Witch Hunter: dark medieval paranormal romance (Witches of the Woods Book 1)

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Witch Hunter: dark medieval paranormal romance (Witches of the Woods Book 1) Page 12

by Steffanie Holmes


  He smiled, then rose. I craned my neck against the leather restraint, and watched him walk to a rack on the wall and remove something. He walked back to the table again, pulling over a crude wooden stool, and sat down next to me.

  "Do you see this, Ada?" Ulrich held up the device. It looked like a miniature clamp from a blacksmith's shop. A thin metal screw protruded from the side. "My father used this to loosen tongues and break fingers, but I find it has a much more interesting function on particularly reticent villains, such as yourself."

  Ulrich leaned over me and grabbed my taut nipple in his mouth, teasing and pulling it with his teeth till it was hard as a rock. The stubble on his chin scraped against my skin. I gasped against his touch as the sensations swept through my body.

  After giving the tip one last lick, Ulrich pulled away from my breast, and fastened the clamp around my engorged nipple. Before I could protest, he gave the screw a quarter turn so that the metal screw dug into my sensitive skin. Oh, how my chest tightened in pain!

  “Aaaaarggh!” I cried out as Ulrich turned the screw tighter and the clamp bit deeper. His fingers danced across my stomach and found my slit. My body surged with energy as he caressed that little bud, all the while my nipple ached from the screw's harsh bite. He teased me open and, as the clamp bit still deeper, he thrust a finger inside me. I moaned against him, straining against the shackles for more of this pain and pleasure.

  “You may cry out with pain, Ada,” Ulrich grinned as he raised his fingers in front of my face. “But down below, you are wet with lust.”

  He was right. His fingers were slick with my own juices. Ulrich grinned wider as he gave the screw another quarter turn, then thrust two fingers deep inside me.

  "Oh, oh!" I cried as I felt his fingers caressing my inner walls. My whole breast stung, and that fire only made the sensation of his fingers moving inside of me more powerful. I was on the edge. I was about to lose myself in it …

  And then, it stopped. Everything stopped.

  Ulrich retracted his fingers, and released the pressure on the clamp, leaving me trembling with desire, longing for him to finish what he had begun. My muscles ached from the strain of the rack, and my whole body ached for him, my sex trembling in anticipation of his next move.

  "More," I moaned. "Please?"

  "It would be my pleasure," Ulrich replied, as he turned the wheel of the rack. The whole bench gave a creak, as if it were an old door in need of oiling, and it started to move beneath me, each end pulling away from the centre, and pulling me tight with it. My muscles strained as I felt my limbs tugged in opposite directions, the leather straps holding my wrists and ankles pulling me tight. Ulrich disappeared from my vision. I tried to turn my head to see him, but found it impossible. The rack held my body rigid, my muscles screaming for release, my core begging to be touched again. I was completely at his mercy.

  Ulrich appeared again, leaning over me, this time holding a candle he'd taken from the wall sconce, tiny rivers of wax running down the sides and pooling on the iron holder. He smiled wickedly at me as he held the candle over my stomach, and began to tilt it.

  "No!" I cried. "Oh, Ulrich, don't!"

  But it was too late. The first drop of wax hit my stomach, and I screamed as the heat seared through my skin.

  Ulrich bent down, kissing the spot where the wax had fallen, his fingers seeking my bud, swirling around that little spot until my body flushed with desire once more. Then he tilted the candle again, letting another wax drop land on my stomach, higher this time – getting ever closer to my hard, swollen nipples.

  I winced as the heat burrowed through my skin, searing me inside. My whole chest tightened in pain. Ulrich’s fingers continued to stroke me, and the burning of the wax became one with the burning between my legs.

  My limbs strained against their bonds, and I gritted my teeth as Ulrich tipped the candle again, splashing wax just on the bottom of my breast. This time as he stroked and swirled around my folds, he cranked the wheel of the rack. My arms ached as they were pulled tighter, every muscle and sinew of my body straining to hold my delicate frame together.

  Now my breasts pointed high into the air. As I watched, helpless under my restraints, Ulrich tipped the candle again, pouring a river of wax onto my erect, cold nipples – first one, then the other. I screamed as the pain arced through my body, my breasts burning from the sting of the wax. While I howled, unable to move, Ulrich buried his face between my legs, his tongue finding that special spot and nursing it, pummelling it with wet, furious strokes until I could take no more.

  I cried out as the orgasm claimed my body. I could do nothing as the heat rushed through my limbs. It was as if a river of fire flowed through me, the flames licking at my toes, my fingers, my cheeks, my ribs, and I was powerless to save myself. In my chest, my breasts still stung with the pain of the wax, but the pain and pleasure had become one, so I no longer recognised one from the other.

  When the fire within me faded into a soft, warm glow, Ulrich bent over me and pressed his lips to mine. He tasted sweet, and I knew I was tasting my own juices on his lips. "How was that?" he asked.

  I tried to open my mouth to reply, but I found that I could barely speak, so stretched and taut was my body. "Amazing," I croaked out.

  "I am glad. But don't relax now, my Ada. There is plenty more we can explore together in this room. Are you ready for more?”

  “Y-y-yes, but can you let me free of the rack? My body feels as though it’s been torn apart.”

  With rough hands Ulrich unlocked the shackles and pulled me from the rack. My limbs tingled as blood rushed back into them, and I slumped across his shoulders, gasping in full breaths and enjoying my freedom from the shackles. Ulrich threw me over his shoulder, his warm hands cupping my ass and stroking my thighs. He walked slowly across the room, navigating his way carefully between the devices so that he wouldn’t hit me. I flexed my fingers, rubbing my wrists to get feeling back into them. It felt good to be free from the restraints.

  But that freedom would not last long. Ulrich dropped me on the cold floor in front of a tall wooden frame, its horizontal and vertical struts braced by the stone wall and low wooden rafters. All sorts of ropes and chains hung from the frame, and at the side was a large, ominous windlass. I wondered what it could possibly be used for, but decided I would rather Ulrich just show me.

  Ulrich pulled me to my feet, strapped my ankles into two iron cuffs, which were attached to a ring set into the ground. I stood, naked, shivering with excitement, as Ulrich cranked a winch and a chain descended slowly from the ceiling, coming to a stop right before my eyes. Ulrich took another pair of shackles, hooked them to the chain, and placed my wrists inside, snapping them shut. I was now trapped in an upright position, my back to the frame, my eyes fixed on Ulrich, who was grinning wickedly once more.

  “You look very beautiful,” he whispered. “To see a strong woman submit, it is an incredible thing.”

  I didn’t quite understand what he meant, but I beamed at his praise. Ulrich leaned over and kissed me again, his tongue darting around my lips. I leaned forward to drink in more of him, but all too quickly he had enough of me and pushed me roughly away.

  "I must examine you for the Mark of the Devil." his teeth dug into my earlobe as he whispered, "I must examine all of you."

  I gulped. I had heard stories about these examinations. The witch hunter would poke and tear at the victim’s skin with large needles and tweezers, looking for patches of skin or strange birthmarks that they believed were placed upon the witch during the pact she made with the Devil. My mind flickered to the small birthmark on my outer thigh - a strange dark splodge I’d had there since birth - the only remnant I had of the terrible night that had taken my mother. I wondered how Ulrich planned to handle its discovery.

  As I watched, Ulrich stepped back and cranked the winch. The chain began to retract, and my arms rose up above my head. I was pulled forward and my arms and shoulders began to take my weight as he tu
rned that crank tighter and tighter. Oh, not another machine to tighten and stretch me! I didn't know how much more strain my limbs could take.

  "Hold on to the chain with your hands," Ulrich said, as he heard me whimpering. "It will take some of the strain."

  I did as he instructed, and found it relieved some of the pressure in my shoulders. Soon I was standing on the balls of my feet, then my tiptoes, then finally my feet had been entirely pulled from the ground. I was stretched out before him, my limbs screaming in protest. Ulrich gazed up at my body with a wicked smile.

  First, he knelt down, and grabbed my ankle, running his fingers between my toes, and over the pads of my feet. I gasped as his fingertips ran over my like feathers, raising the hairs on my legs.

  Next, Ulrich ran his hands up my legs, feathering his fingers over the backs of my knees. Stretched out as I was, I couldn’t move away from his tickling. I choked and chortled as my whole body shivered from his touch. “Please, stop! I can’t take it!”

  Immediately, Ulrich drew away his hands. “Is that really what you want?”

  “Huh?”

  “Do you want me to stop? Ada, I don’t want to do anything that doesn’t please you. I am enjoying myself immensely, and I want you to, also. Do you want me to stop?”

  The tickling, though painful, had made my whole body rigid and alert. Every whisper of the air caressed my skin.

  I shook my head. “Please, don’t stop.”

  “Good.”

  Ulrich reached up and grasped my breasts, pulling them upward. I gasped as he pinched my now burned and swollen nipples, sending fire through me. It seemed as if his hands were everywhere, on the back of my neck, caressing my thighs, running down my back, sending delicious shivers through my whole body. Ulrich bent between my legs, spread my lips wide, and slid one finger inside of me, then two, then a third. The warmth of him made my breath catch. He touched that special place, his fingers swirling around it, flicking it and pressing it until a moan escaped my lips.

  "No mark so far," he said. "But I haven't checked everywhere yet."

  Ulrich moved on to my ass, cupping each cheek and pushing them upward, his fingers exploring between them. I gasped at the rudeness of it, but I was so aroused, so hungry for him, that his probing only pushed me further toward the edge. Just as I felt my body might burst from the intensity of the touch, Ulrich stepped away, leaving me aching and bereft.

  "I see there is no sign of the mark," he said, looking me over once more, his brow furrowed. I almost laughed when I realised he’d been so focused on other parts of me that he hadn’t even noticed the birthmark on my thigh.

  "But I know that the devil lives inside you, Ada. I think this pretty skin needs some marks of its own."

  I watched as he went to a rack behind him and withdrew a long, thin object. As he stepped into the torchlight again I could see what he held – a leather whip with three tails, each tied with a knot. A masterpiece of the saddler's art.

  I understood immediately what he intended to do. I strained against my cuffs, trying to wriggle away from him, but of course it was too late.

  "No," I whimpered. "No, no."

  He smiled. "Oh, yes."

  "Please, Ulrich. I'm scared." I'd seen whippings in the village square before. Men had their backs torn into a bloody pulp for crimes like theft and adultery. I fought against my panic as I realised the same thing was about to happen to me. I started to sob.

  Ulrich set down the whip, and cupped my cheeks in his, kissing away the tears on my eyelids. "Please, Ada. You must trust me. The village will expect to see my marks upon you, so I must inflict this pain now so that you will be able to escape the burning later.”

  He was right, of course. The townsfolk would expect to see whip marks upon me. I shuddered at the thought, but I knew he was right.

  "Please," I whispered, my voice catching on the lump that had formed in my throat. "Be gentle."

  His warm lips kissed away my tears. “Do not worry. I am not a butcher. It would be a crime to break such beautiful, alabaster skin."

  Ulrich bent down and kissed me, long and deep, his warm tongue seeking out every corner of my mouth. I breathed in the scent of him – a scent of blood and scent and burning wood. Tendrils of his black hair fell across my face, tickling my skin. I longed to be able to reach out and entwine my fingers in it, to pull him closer to me and forget the horrible world outside. But I could not. I had to be brave, and in a few days, Ulrich would be able to set me free.

  Ulrich pulled away from the kiss, his intense gaze boring into mine. He walked behind me, and I braced myself for the lash of the whip, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to force down the panic that threatened to overwhelm me. Trust me, Ulrich had said. And so I would trust him. But the sting didn't come. Perhaps he had changed his mind, after all? Surely he would not be so cruel …

  Crack!

  I screamed as the whip lashed across my bottom, like a flame ripping over my skin.

  Crack! Crack!

  Ulrich laced a pattern of fire across my delicate skin, starting from my bottom and moving up my back. I broke down, screaming for mercy. After ten strokes, he came around in front of me again, and placed my left nipple in his mouth, I watched, my ass stinging, as he worked that nipple with his tongue, teasing it gently so that it stood erect. Ulrich slipped his finger inside my wetness again, pressing it back and forth as he danced his thumb over my clit. I moaned, half in agony, half in ecstasy, as the cold air in the dungeon caressed my stinging behind.

  "See?" Ulrich said, holding up his fingers for me to see. They dripped with juices. "You are enjoying your punishment." He pressed his fingers between my legs again, and kissed me, his tongue entwining with mine. It felt so good to have him pressed up against my prone body, his lips warm against mine, and his fingers worked away at me. The warmth spread out from my stomach, rising through my chest, encasing my neck, my face. When the warmth reached my brain, it exploded in a fiery heat, consuming my whole body. I screamed as my body sighed with release, straining against my bonds.

  The orgasm flowed through me like a wave crashing against the shore. After a few moments it faded into a warm glow. My body sagged against the restraints, my muscles screaming from the strain of holding myself up.

  "Please," I begged him, my voice muffled by his lips. "I feel as though I'm on fire, and my shoulders are being pulled from their sockets."

  Ulrich leaned over and turned the winch again. The pressure on my shoulders relaxed. He wound me down so I was able to stand on the ground again, then unlocked my hands from the cuffs. Weakened by the pain and the pressure building inside of me, I collapsed into him.

  "Careful," Ulrich held me upright, taking my weight in his strong arms. "We can't have you faint on me yet. I have plenty more in mind for you. Back on to the rack with you–"

  Before Ulrich could finish his sentence, I reached down and grabbed his cock, running my fingers up and down the length of that thick shaft. Now it was his turn to moan against me, pressing his body closer, until he had pushed me hard against one of the stone pillars that held up the ceiling of the chamber. Steadying my back against the pillar and trying to ignore the stinging pain that shot from the welts on my ass, I placed both hands on his shaft, running them down in a continuous rhythm.

  “Careful, Ada,” Ulrich growled. “You don’t know what you’re playing with.”

  I pumped him harder. Ulrich cupped my chin in his hand and buried his tongue in my mouth, the force of his kiss knocking my teeth against his. I stroked him faster, increasing the pressure in my hands. I was done with games – my body was ready for him.

  Ulrich sank deeper into me, his body forming a perfect seal around me, as though we were meant to fit together. But then, he seemed to rally himself. Summoning all his strength, Ulrich grabbed me under the arms and lifted me up. My hands tore away from him as I flew through the air. He slammed me face down onto the rack, furiously pushing my hands and feet into rings at the base of the legs, clamping th
em shut. I was bent over the table like a horse, my stinging buttocks pointing high.

  Strange. Ulrich relished being in control, but he couldn’t handle me pleasuring him in return. How long had it been since he had a woman outside of his dungeon? How long since he’d felt comfort and fulfilment from the sexual act? I wondered if I would have another chance to touch him, to show him that submitting could be enjoyable, too.

  Ulrich bent down in front of me and kissed me again, more measured this time. He was back in control, where he clearly felt safest. I returned his kiss with abandon, showing him that I was ready for whatever he had planned next. My body hummed with anticipation once more.

  He removed his tongue and stuffed a leather strap into my mouth. "There," he said. "Now you cannot moan too loud. You are at my mercy, Ada. Does this please you?"

  I nodded my head vigorously. He smiled. "Good. Then we shall begin."

  Ulrich turned away from me and turned the wheel on the side of the rack. I could feel pressure in my wrists and ankles. The machine was pulling my limbs closer to the floor, stretching me tight across the table. He turned the wheel again and, satisfied it was where he wanted, he placed a notch in the wheel. Thankfully, he had left me with a bit of slack, so I could move my shoulders and hips ever so slightly. I strained against the leather in my mouth, wondering what was coming next. I watched him move to another wheel, and he started to slowly turn it. Strangely, this wheel did not pull my limbs further apart, stretching me until my bones popped from their sockets, as the device was designed for. It was pulling the legs of the table outward, spreading my legs apart, and making me wider before him. I could feel the cool air of the room caressing my inner thighs, and the sensation caused me to shiver. I felt vulnerable, my wetness aching as Ulrich opened me up like a flower. I couldn't move a muscle against the tautness of the bonds.

  When Ulrich was satisfied my legs were where he wanted them, he came to stand behind me. I could no longer see him, but I felt him slide his finger from the base of my neck, running it down my body, over the curve of my back, across the welts on my buttocks, and down, deep into my slit. He stroked me inside a couple of times, then removed his finger.

 

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