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A Research Trip To Little Brampton
- Thread starter thehangingtree
- Start date
It is 2 PM Thursday if I have my days right and I have figured out the church bell correctly. I can’t see the clock tower from the cell. A guard comes in and walks to Mary’s cell and tells her it is time to prepare her to be hanged. She looks past him and says to me “Promise me you will watch. I need to know I have one friendly face watching!”
“I won’t like it but you have my word” I reply.
As she is led away she says “Have you ever had witch-meat veal?”
I shake my head no and she says to the guard escorting her away “Please see that she gets a taste. I want an unbiased opinion as to how I taste.”
-Barbara Moore, sands of time running out!!! Where is the elf-warrior Erin when I need her?!?!?!
The archbishop’s illegitimate daughter is not brought directly to the gallows. Instead she is brought to a well-lit room with her wrists bound behind her back. A woman named Ulrika chops at her hair with scissors and says “I don’t know what you did to piss the archbishop off but he wants your hair cut short enough everyone can see you face while you hang and instead of a noose a rope will be tied around your neck so it won’t tighten.”
“What does mean” Mary asks.
Ulrika tells her “You are in for a really slow hanging!”
“Fucking great” Mary replies. “My ‘crime’ is being his daughter.”
“No shit” Ulrika says.
“No shit” Mary replies as her long hair drops to the floor.
I am brought to a room with my wrists in cuffs and am place in a line with other women condemned as witches. One after another we are photographed by some kid that I doubt could grow ‘peach fuzz’ much less a beard and mustache. He gets to me and asks me to stand straight and smile. I ask him who is what this is about.
Disgustingly cheerfully he says “I am ‘Spike’ Sharp from the Crux Chronicle. We have the annual contract for the Little Brampton Harvest Festival year book. There will be a picture of you here and one next to it when you are hanged with your name and ‘bio’! Now come on- shoulders back and smile- come on, quit slouching! You don’t want your tits to look saggy at your age, do you?”
He gets the former but he can stuff a 2x4 up his ass before I will smile!
While this is going on three of the nuns that seduced Barbara Moore in the inn at Eastwick are led from Little Brampton in painful disgrace!
The fourth, the novitiate Sister Perpetua (look up the name some time) is in chains in the Little Brampton church’s cellar- hell, it’s a dungeon! Two men walk in- we know them as Gunner and Bull. The flip a coin and Gunner says “Too bad, Sister. Bull called tails and that’s what it is. Sister Perpetua looks up and says “But I have born a child! I am not a virgin!”
“Sister you took a vow of celibacy when you entered the convent. That makes you a ‘virtual virgin’” Gunner explains.
She rolls over and says “I beg you sirs defile this sinful vessel of Lucifer the best you can.
They did…
Tree
“I won’t like it but you have my word” I reply.
As she is led away she says “Have you ever had witch-meat veal?”
I shake my head no and she says to the guard escorting her away “Please see that she gets a taste. I want an unbiased opinion as to how I taste.”
-Barbara Moore, sands of time running out!!! Where is the elf-warrior Erin when I need her?!?!?!
The archbishop’s illegitimate daughter is not brought directly to the gallows. Instead she is brought to a well-lit room with her wrists bound behind her back. A woman named Ulrika chops at her hair with scissors and says “I don’t know what you did to piss the archbishop off but he wants your hair cut short enough everyone can see you face while you hang and instead of a noose a rope will be tied around your neck so it won’t tighten.”
“What does mean” Mary asks.
Ulrika tells her “You are in for a really slow hanging!”
“Fucking great” Mary replies. “My ‘crime’ is being his daughter.”
“No shit” Ulrika says.
“No shit” Mary replies as her long hair drops to the floor.
I am brought to a room with my wrists in cuffs and am place in a line with other women condemned as witches. One after another we are photographed by some kid that I doubt could grow ‘peach fuzz’ much less a beard and mustache. He gets to me and asks me to stand straight and smile. I ask him who is what this is about.
Disgustingly cheerfully he says “I am ‘Spike’ Sharp from the Crux Chronicle. We have the annual contract for the Little Brampton Harvest Festival year book. There will be a picture of you here and one next to it when you are hanged with your name and ‘bio’! Now come on- shoulders back and smile- come on, quit slouching! You don’t want your tits to look saggy at your age, do you?”
He gets the former but he can stuff a 2x4 up his ass before I will smile!
While this is going on three of the nuns that seduced Barbara Moore in the inn at Eastwick are led from Little Brampton in painful disgrace!
The fourth, the novitiate Sister Perpetua (look up the name some time) is in chains in the Little Brampton church’s cellar- hell, it’s a dungeon! Two men walk in- we know them as Gunner and Bull. The flip a coin and Gunner says “Too bad, Sister. Bull called tails and that’s what it is. Sister Perpetua looks up and says “But I have born a child! I am not a virgin!”
“Sister you took a vow of celibacy when you entered the convent. That makes you a ‘virtual virgin’” Gunner explains.
She rolls over and says “I beg you sirs defile this sinful vessel of Lucifer the best you can.
They did…
Tree
Where is the elf-warrior Erin when I need her?!?!?! I really didn't say that. No need. Erin always has my back. She just has to find her way to Little Brampton in time, that's all.
I am not fooled for a minute ... "Spike" Sharp looks an awful lot like RR in disguise ... and my boobs are not saggy either! 
No wonder Tree gets all those shots from THAT angle ... the rodent is barely 8 inches tall.
I kept my word and watched for Mary. I almost didn’t recognize her with her beautiful hair bluntly cut short but she looks up at my barred window and winks. ‘How can she stay so calm?’ I wonder doubting I can keep stoic tomorrow. A rope is tossed over the gallows’ cross beam.
-Barbara Moore
The rope slaps against my shoulder and bounces off. The hangman asks me if I am ready. I reply “What the fuck does it matter if I am or am not? Just get this over with!”
He wraps the rope around my neck and ties a knot that won’t slip. He slides three fingers under the loop under the loop says most satisfied “You will have a long time to please the crowd.”
“I can hardly wait. Are we going to chat or are you going to hang me” I ask as Reverend Lynch reads what a despicable bitch I am. I yell at him “Shut the fuck up and just hang me!”
The crowd agrees and he gives up berating me as half the crowd drowns him out yelling ‘Hang the witch’ as the other half chants ‘Hang the bitch’! He nods to the hangmen and I am lifted from the platform. I could never imagine what this would feel like! I look down at the platform shrinking below my feet as the rope pulls me higher by my neck!
-Mary, the archbishop’s daughter
Mary does not give the crowd the expected ‘show’. Her ‘dance’ was limited to small kicks and twitches though those lasted more than a half hour…
She told me she would die with dignity. I didn’t understand what she meant. I mean being hanged naked how could you have any dignity? That was until I watched her hang as still as she could manage. In the cool fall air her breasts contract to accentuate her tumescent nipples.
The church bell tolls twice. I know it is past 2 PM. Mary has been hanged for more than a half-hour! I beg her to just die but her eyes keep darting around as she slowly spins back and forth from the rope and we occasionally make eye contact. Did she really smile at me just then?
There are two other witches hanging and a third being taken down. She’s just with-meat now. One of the witches has been hanged for 30 minutes and is also dead but won’t be taken down for another half-hour and the third has been hanged for a quarter-hour and is slowing her dance of death yet is still more spirited than Mary’s was when she was first raised. The church bell tolls three times. Mary has hanged three-quarters of an hour and is still not dead!
-Barbara Moore
The hangmen and a couple town elders gather below the still-living Mary.
One elder says “We have another witch to hang in just less than a quarter hour and need this space.”
One of the hangmen says “Leave it to me and tell Dorothy Brown to have a spit ready for this veal witch-meat.”
From my cell window I watch as one of men pulls Mary higher while the other undoes loops of the rope from which she hangs from the cleat that held her above the platform. I don’t understand what they are doing until her neck is against the crossbeam of the gallows. Her face noticeably darkens as the rope around her neck crushes arteries and her throat. Her body stiffens with pain.
After a few moments with the back of her neck pinned against the gallows’ crossbeam she begins to thrash as noose has shut her throat and her vision begins to blur as the fresh supply of blood to her brain is cut off!
The thrashing quickly becomes small twitches. To my and everyone watching the hangmen loosen their grip and Mary plummets towards the gallows’ platform! As she falls towards the deck her eyes open wide and her mouth opens to scream but no sound came from her crushed throat.
As fast as she drops the rope is drawn tight and her fall stops abruptly with her toes less than a foot from the platform. She doesn’t even twitch again.
I look down from my cell and know she is gone…
-Barb Moore
Tree
-Barbara Moore
The rope slaps against my shoulder and bounces off. The hangman asks me if I am ready. I reply “What the fuck does it matter if I am or am not? Just get this over with!”
He wraps the rope around my neck and ties a knot that won’t slip. He slides three fingers under the loop under the loop says most satisfied “You will have a long time to please the crowd.”
“I can hardly wait. Are we going to chat or are you going to hang me” I ask as Reverend Lynch reads what a despicable bitch I am. I yell at him “Shut the fuck up and just hang me!”
The crowd agrees and he gives up berating me as half the crowd drowns him out yelling ‘Hang the witch’ as the other half chants ‘Hang the bitch’! He nods to the hangmen and I am lifted from the platform. I could never imagine what this would feel like! I look down at the platform shrinking below my feet as the rope pulls me higher by my neck!
-Mary, the archbishop’s daughter
Mary does not give the crowd the expected ‘show’. Her ‘dance’ was limited to small kicks and twitches though those lasted more than a half hour…
She told me she would die with dignity. I didn’t understand what she meant. I mean being hanged naked how could you have any dignity? That was until I watched her hang as still as she could manage. In the cool fall air her breasts contract to accentuate her tumescent nipples.
The church bell tolls twice. I know it is past 2 PM. Mary has been hanged for more than a half-hour! I beg her to just die but her eyes keep darting around as she slowly spins back and forth from the rope and we occasionally make eye contact. Did she really smile at me just then?
There are two other witches hanging and a third being taken down. She’s just with-meat now. One of the witches has been hanged for 30 minutes and is also dead but won’t be taken down for another half-hour and the third has been hanged for a quarter-hour and is slowing her dance of death yet is still more spirited than Mary’s was when she was first raised. The church bell tolls three times. Mary has hanged three-quarters of an hour and is still not dead!
-Barbara Moore
The hangmen and a couple town elders gather below the still-living Mary.
One elder says “We have another witch to hang in just less than a quarter hour and need this space.”
One of the hangmen says “Leave it to me and tell Dorothy Brown to have a spit ready for this veal witch-meat.”
From my cell window I watch as one of men pulls Mary higher while the other undoes loops of the rope from which she hangs from the cleat that held her above the platform. I don’t understand what they are doing until her neck is against the crossbeam of the gallows. Her face noticeably darkens as the rope around her neck crushes arteries and her throat. Her body stiffens with pain.
After a few moments with the back of her neck pinned against the gallows’ crossbeam she begins to thrash as noose has shut her throat and her vision begins to blur as the fresh supply of blood to her brain is cut off!
The thrashing quickly becomes small twitches. To my and everyone watching the hangmen loosen their grip and Mary plummets towards the gallows’ platform! As she falls towards the deck her eyes open wide and her mouth opens to scream but no sound came from her crushed throat.
As fast as she drops the rope is drawn tight and her fall stops abruptly with her toes less than a foot from the platform. She doesn’t even twitch again.
I look down from my cell and know she is gone…
-Barb Moore
Tree
Nicely done Tree. A finely detailed and drawn out description of a witch's hanging told from both the point of view of the victim, Mary, herself and from that of an interested observer ... me!
Captures well my thoughts and feelings as I witness this horrific preview of my own fate.
The neck crushed against the crossbeam part was a nice original touch to the scene.
Nicely illustrated too.
All in all a great post!
Captures well my thoughts and feelings as I witness this horrific preview of my own fate.
The neck crushed against the crossbeam part was a nice original touch to the scene.
Nicely illustrated too.
All in all a great post!
Thursday evening of the Little Brampton Harvest Festival…
After Mary was hanged I had no stomach for watching the ones that would follow. I perch on the cells cot. I can smell what they call witch-meat being roasted on spits over apple and hickory wood and others in being baked in the ovens that were Ingrid’s back in medieval times knowing sometime late tomorrow I will either be spited or in an oven. I’d puke if I had anything in my stomach.
I do look out the barred window late in the evening as I hear a huge cheer go up. I see they have little the wood pile that the Countess of West Brampton is on top of chained to the stake. It’s being done earlier than the last three days. As the flames rise up to her body she curses the crowd with words I didn’t think a titled woman know!
-Barbara Moore, running out of time…
If you checked around the Earl of West Brampton, Damien Wragg, is nowhere to be found. He is watching on RR Platinum Video Channel at his estate on the island nation’s west coast with his fiancé. Of course they have yet to announce; they have to wait until the Countess is burned at the stake.
Damien Wragg notes that Barbara Moore was most astute in noting that the Countess was burned earlier than usual. She had to be as the Earl’s and Countess’ daughter, Lady Melissa, must be burned at the stake that night also.
It’s all part of a complex pre-nuptial agreement. I suppose ‘off with her head’ isn’t in style over there anymore. This Wragg clan could be worse than Tree’s NW Arkansas relatives…
I am brought from the cell over the Market Square to the dungeon they call the ‘church cellar’ and am bound standing in chains. I’m told it is a longer walk through the crowd when I am hanged. I have an unexpected visitor though he is not a surprise. He lights a Marlboro and says “Hi, Barb. How are you doing?”
“How the fuck does it look, Tree” I ask. “I’m not in the mood for small talk tonight!”
-Barbara Moore
I think I can understand that. She asks if I am going to hang her tomorrow and clumsily I reply “You hang today but no I won’t be involved.”
“It’s past midnight?” she groans. “Did you see what they did to Mary? She would have lasted even longer if they didn’t ‘assist’ her. Oh god, if they do that to me…”
“I doubt they will. As big a bastard that Chancellor Wragg is I don’t think he’s a match for his cousin the archbishop. Still taking a quarter hour to croak while being hanged is no picnic and I haven’t seen any of them go quicker than…”
“Tree, would you just shut up a leave!”
She seems upset.
Meanwhile Sister Perpetua gives her last confession to Mother Superior, Sister Confessor, and Sister Penance.
One would think being hanged for 15 minutes then being live roasted should be adequate penance but that is for her being a witch. To the nuns she confessed to being quite aroused at the thought of being led through the crowd and being hanged naked before them; so much so she had being touching herself in a most lewd and sinful way! She is taken to the church cellar where while other nuns prayed the rosary she would receive 33 lashes from Sister Discipline’s whip!
For the rest of her last night on earth she would be restrained so she could not satisfy her arousal.
This would not quench her arousal- quite the opposite- but she could do nothing to satisfy it!
Tree
After Mary was hanged I had no stomach for watching the ones that would follow. I perch on the cells cot. I can smell what they call witch-meat being roasted on spits over apple and hickory wood and others in being baked in the ovens that were Ingrid’s back in medieval times knowing sometime late tomorrow I will either be spited or in an oven. I’d puke if I had anything in my stomach.
I do look out the barred window late in the evening as I hear a huge cheer go up. I see they have little the wood pile that the Countess of West Brampton is on top of chained to the stake. It’s being done earlier than the last three days. As the flames rise up to her body she curses the crowd with words I didn’t think a titled woman know!
-Barbara Moore, running out of time…
If you checked around the Earl of West Brampton, Damien Wragg, is nowhere to be found. He is watching on RR Platinum Video Channel at his estate on the island nation’s west coast with his fiancé. Of course they have yet to announce; they have to wait until the Countess is burned at the stake.
Damien Wragg notes that Barbara Moore was most astute in noting that the Countess was burned earlier than usual. She had to be as the Earl’s and Countess’ daughter, Lady Melissa, must be burned at the stake that night also.
It’s all part of a complex pre-nuptial agreement. I suppose ‘off with her head’ isn’t in style over there anymore. This Wragg clan could be worse than Tree’s NW Arkansas relatives…
I am brought from the cell over the Market Square to the dungeon they call the ‘church cellar’ and am bound standing in chains. I’m told it is a longer walk through the crowd when I am hanged. I have an unexpected visitor though he is not a surprise. He lights a Marlboro and says “Hi, Barb. How are you doing?”
“How the fuck does it look, Tree” I ask. “I’m not in the mood for small talk tonight!”
-Barbara Moore
I think I can understand that. She asks if I am going to hang her tomorrow and clumsily I reply “You hang today but no I won’t be involved.”
“It’s past midnight?” she groans. “Did you see what they did to Mary? She would have lasted even longer if they didn’t ‘assist’ her. Oh god, if they do that to me…”
“I doubt they will. As big a bastard that Chancellor Wragg is I don’t think he’s a match for his cousin the archbishop. Still taking a quarter hour to croak while being hanged is no picnic and I haven’t seen any of them go quicker than…”
“Tree, would you just shut up a leave!”
She seems upset.
Meanwhile Sister Perpetua gives her last confession to Mother Superior, Sister Confessor, and Sister Penance.
One would think being hanged for 15 minutes then being live roasted should be adequate penance but that is for her being a witch. To the nuns she confessed to being quite aroused at the thought of being led through the crowd and being hanged naked before them; so much so she had being touching herself in a most lewd and sinful way! She is taken to the church cellar where while other nuns prayed the rosary she would receive 33 lashes from Sister Discipline’s whip!
For the rest of her last night on earth she would be restrained so she could not satisfy her arousal.
This would not quench her arousal- quite the opposite- but she could do nothing to satisfy it!
Tree
Dorothy Brown
Brown Sugar
View attachment 436554 Somebody please tell me why this clown in the silly yellow hat keep showing up at my worst moments!
Secretly, he is probably in love with you
I think you look great with that sweaty 'never got to bed' hair though your jewelry is a tad over the top...View attachment 436554 Somebody please tell me why this clown in the silly yellow hat keep showing up at my worst moments!
Dorothy, the Boys from Detroit will see you now!
Tree
...I love Dorothy, too!!!
Friday morning, the last day of the Harvest Festival…
Sister Perpetua is scheduled to be the fourth to be hanged this morning. Before her three witches will be hanged, with one hanged every quarter-hour starting at 9 AM.
It is finally the day I dreamed of. Last night I prayed today will be the living hell I so justly deserve. An iron yoke is fixed around my neck and wrists. After I am brought outside from the church cellar a heavy chain is attached to the collar of the yoke and fixed around the neck of another witch while another heavy shorter chain connects our ankles. Her manacles are chained to a cart pulled by a serf and riding triumphantly in it are the Duke and his new bride the Duchess of the Northern Forest. I cannot be more honored to be led to my execution by such an esteemed couple!
(The Duchess is great-niece of Archbishop Wragg. The woman chained between the cart and Sister Perpetua was the wife of the Duke of the Northern Forest. The Archbishop himself annulled her marriage to the Duke after personally accusing her of witchcraft- and a health stipend from the Duke. Five years later the young Duchess would hang from the gallows in the market square of Little Brampton, but that is a story for another time.)
We are led through the streets of Little Brampton from the church to the gallows. The crowd along the way is made up of finely dressed citizens and roguish hooligans that cheer the Duke and Duchess and mock and jeer the first wave of witches. The short chain attaching my ankle to the other witch’s makes walking difficult and my generous tits heave and sway with every step and my tumescent nipples stand out like a cow’s udders in need of milking and do not go unnoticed by the heckling crowd!
As we are led into the market square the gathered throngs cheer. I look up and see the gallows loom large before us. Oh, if I could touch myself for a moment I would rub my dripping cunt in front of this jeering crowd and really give them something to hang this witch for!!!
-Sister Perpetua, certain to be damn to be Satan’s bitch in Hell for all Eternity!
Tree
I don’t think convent life was a good fit for Sister Perpetua anyway… just saying…
Sister Perpetua is scheduled to be the fourth to be hanged this morning. Before her three witches will be hanged, with one hanged every quarter-hour starting at 9 AM.
It is finally the day I dreamed of. Last night I prayed today will be the living hell I so justly deserve. An iron yoke is fixed around my neck and wrists. After I am brought outside from the church cellar a heavy chain is attached to the collar of the yoke and fixed around the neck of another witch while another heavy shorter chain connects our ankles. Her manacles are chained to a cart pulled by a serf and riding triumphantly in it are the Duke and his new bride the Duchess of the Northern Forest. I cannot be more honored to be led to my execution by such an esteemed couple!
(The Duchess is great-niece of Archbishop Wragg. The woman chained between the cart and Sister Perpetua was the wife of the Duke of the Northern Forest. The Archbishop himself annulled her marriage to the Duke after personally accusing her of witchcraft- and a health stipend from the Duke. Five years later the young Duchess would hang from the gallows in the market square of Little Brampton, but that is a story for another time.)
We are led through the streets of Little Brampton from the church to the gallows. The crowd along the way is made up of finely dressed citizens and roguish hooligans that cheer the Duke and Duchess and mock and jeer the first wave of witches. The short chain attaching my ankle to the other witch’s makes walking difficult and my generous tits heave and sway with every step and my tumescent nipples stand out like a cow’s udders in need of milking and do not go unnoticed by the heckling crowd!
As we are led into the market square the gathered throngs cheer. I look up and see the gallows loom large before us. Oh, if I could touch myself for a moment I would rub my dripping cunt in front of this jeering crowd and really give them something to hang this witch for!!!
-Sister Perpetua, certain to be damn to be Satan’s bitch in Hell for all Eternity!
Tree
I don’t think convent life was a good fit for Sister Perpetua anyway… just saying…
Sister Perpetua’s turn comes up and the irons are removed from her wrists (witches are not allowed such extra weight when they are hanged) but before she has her wrists tied behind her back she steps up to the waiting noose and grabs it. Looking at the coarse rope loop she asks the hangman “Could you lower it a bit?”
To the amazed delight of the crowd she pulls the noose under her chin…
…then pulls the knot behind her head.
The rope is so thick and rough! It is the perfect tool to send me to hell!
She pulls the knot down shrinking the loop closing the noose only enough to be satisfied she can be raised by it and brushes her hair out of the rope not wanting her hair to interfere with the bite of rope against her skin.
It feels alive as it scratches against my neck!
She adjusts the noose to where she thinks it will take its longest time to do its deadly work.
Her right hand feels the rope the hangmen will hoist her up with while her left hand holds the noose in place.
Is there a more perfect way to go? The three hanged before me all lasted well more than a quarter hour. The one next to me is still kicking pretty strongly. I look back at the spit racks and smell the aromatic smoke of hickory and apple wood coming from the bed of coals. I should still be alive when they take me down and skewer my body! With any luck I could still be alive when they put this vessel of Lucifer’s over the coals.
With the noose set Sister Perpetua tried to reach for hot wet cunt but the hangman grabs her wrists and crosses them behind her back before she can touch herself and a rough rope binds them there. She isn’t sure if what wets her thighs is cum or piss but her mind is filled with euphonium that she doubts any other witch hanged this week felt. The hangmen pull the rope and her flesh bunches above the loop on the side farthest from the coiled knot…
“What a fucking slut” a young man yells and is followed by someone yelling “Pull the witch up so she can dance for the Devil!”
Oh, yes, pull me up so I might entertain my lover! The bell tolls three times and I feel the tug on my noose! It’s my time!!!
The hangmen easily hoist the nun up and the noose tilts her head.
It begins with ‘teaser pull’ that forces me onto the balls of my feet. The second pull has my feet leave the deck. With each pull I rise higher above the crowd and I feel the vibration run down the rope and into my neck. With three long, strong pulls my feet are almost above the heads of the large men that just hoisted me up.
My naked body is swinging from the noose is displayed to all in the market square. Even though I cannot touch myself I have the most exquisite orgasm of my life!
I feel the rope vibrate and as I slowly spin from the rope I see them lowering the dead witch at the other end of the gallows. They toss her off the back of the gallows and place a noose around the next witch who will be hanged at the top of the hour. The stupid wench is crying and begging for mercy. Take it like I am you bitch! I twist around in time to watch them ram the spit into the dead witch’s ass, through her body, and out her mouth. Oh, how I hope I survive that long enough to feel the heat of the coals!
Below me a witch is placed to take over my noose. Could my quarter hour be over already? That wasn’t bad!
Sister Perpetua has been hanged less than three minutes at this point.
They make no move to take me down, and the euphoria of being hanged is fading rapidly. This is starting to hurt! My neck feels like my body wants to separate my head from it. Breathing is becoming difficult both by the pressure on my throat and phlegm building up that I can’t spit out and snot dripping from my nose. And the noose I had admired as thick and rough now feels like thin band saw wrapped around my neck! Tears blur my vision and no matter how hard I try I can’t free my hands tied behind my back. My feet search for purchase but find none. My erotic fantasy has become a painful reality!
Sister Perpetua has been hanged for just five minutes
Damn either let me down or let this be over! I’ll take Hell over this!
Less than half-way through the quarter hour Sister Perpetua is flailing wildly- they all do. At ten minutes into the hanging she loses control of bodily functions. The Reverend Lynch wishing to make sure all knew she had bellows “The witch has pissed and shat to try to purge Lucifer from her body but it be to no avail. He has his claws firmly clasped to her heart and soul! She will either die by noose or over the fires of Dorothy Brown’s roasting!”
If Lucifer is my lover I beg he takes me now. He does not…
Sister Perpetua is barely aware that she has been lowered to the gallows’ deck and can only groan as strong hands work to open the noose without regard to how much her tortured neck is jostled. She is tossed off the back of the gallows onto a wood table forcing the stale air from her lungs. She blinks and opens her eyes another witch is hoisted up with the same noose she had just occupied. She is rolled over to be face down and she realizes she is about to be run through with spit. This whole fantasy of hers has become a really bad idea and she passes out.
When she comes to she feels the warmth rising from hot coals and smells the apple and hickory smoke melding with the aroma of Dorothy Brown’s secret baste of honey, lemon, butter, and 14 herbs and spices . The horizon rotates before her eyes and she feels her body slip about as the iron cage she is bound in rotates and realizes it is she that smells cooking! She tugs with her arms and legs but again there is no escape. With a raspy voice brought on by her damaged neck she says “I was supposed to be spit-roasted!”
He keeps slowly turning the crack and says “If you were you’d be dead by now. The archbishop promised you’d be cooked. If you had died being hanged Dorothy would have spit-roasted you but since you didn’t you get done a live long-pig witch-meat. If you don’t like it you can take it up with Dorothy Brown in a few hours. She’s a bit busy now entertaining some American VIPs from Detroit.”
“A few hours- I can’t last that long!”
“Ah, Sister Perpetua I think you will last long enough to see the sun set and the harvest moon rise.”
…and in less than five hours Barbara Moore will go to the gallows.
Tree
To the amazed delight of the crowd she pulls the noose under her chin…
…then pulls the knot behind her head.
The rope is so thick and rough! It is the perfect tool to send me to hell!
She pulls the knot down shrinking the loop closing the noose only enough to be satisfied she can be raised by it and brushes her hair out of the rope not wanting her hair to interfere with the bite of rope against her skin.
It feels alive as it scratches against my neck!
She adjusts the noose to where she thinks it will take its longest time to do its deadly work.
Her right hand feels the rope the hangmen will hoist her up with while her left hand holds the noose in place.
Is there a more perfect way to go? The three hanged before me all lasted well more than a quarter hour. The one next to me is still kicking pretty strongly. I look back at the spit racks and smell the aromatic smoke of hickory and apple wood coming from the bed of coals. I should still be alive when they take me down and skewer my body! With any luck I could still be alive when they put this vessel of Lucifer’s over the coals.
With the noose set Sister Perpetua tried to reach for hot wet cunt but the hangman grabs her wrists and crosses them behind her back before she can touch herself and a rough rope binds them there. She isn’t sure if what wets her thighs is cum or piss but her mind is filled with euphonium that she doubts any other witch hanged this week felt. The hangmen pull the rope and her flesh bunches above the loop on the side farthest from the coiled knot…
“What a fucking slut” a young man yells and is followed by someone yelling “Pull the witch up so she can dance for the Devil!”
Oh, yes, pull me up so I might entertain my lover! The bell tolls three times and I feel the tug on my noose! It’s my time!!!
The hangmen easily hoist the nun up and the noose tilts her head.
It begins with ‘teaser pull’ that forces me onto the balls of my feet. The second pull has my feet leave the deck. With each pull I rise higher above the crowd and I feel the vibration run down the rope and into my neck. With three long, strong pulls my feet are almost above the heads of the large men that just hoisted me up.
My naked body is swinging from the noose is displayed to all in the market square. Even though I cannot touch myself I have the most exquisite orgasm of my life!
I feel the rope vibrate and as I slowly spin from the rope I see them lowering the dead witch at the other end of the gallows. They toss her off the back of the gallows and place a noose around the next witch who will be hanged at the top of the hour. The stupid wench is crying and begging for mercy. Take it like I am you bitch! I twist around in time to watch them ram the spit into the dead witch’s ass, through her body, and out her mouth. Oh, how I hope I survive that long enough to feel the heat of the coals!
Below me a witch is placed to take over my noose. Could my quarter hour be over already? That wasn’t bad!
Sister Perpetua has been hanged less than three minutes at this point.
They make no move to take me down, and the euphoria of being hanged is fading rapidly. This is starting to hurt! My neck feels like my body wants to separate my head from it. Breathing is becoming difficult both by the pressure on my throat and phlegm building up that I can’t spit out and snot dripping from my nose. And the noose I had admired as thick and rough now feels like thin band saw wrapped around my neck! Tears blur my vision and no matter how hard I try I can’t free my hands tied behind my back. My feet search for purchase but find none. My erotic fantasy has become a painful reality!
Sister Perpetua has been hanged for just five minutes
Damn either let me down or let this be over! I’ll take Hell over this!
Less than half-way through the quarter hour Sister Perpetua is flailing wildly- they all do. At ten minutes into the hanging she loses control of bodily functions. The Reverend Lynch wishing to make sure all knew she had bellows “The witch has pissed and shat to try to purge Lucifer from her body but it be to no avail. He has his claws firmly clasped to her heart and soul! She will either die by noose or over the fires of Dorothy Brown’s roasting!”
If Lucifer is my lover I beg he takes me now. He does not…
Sister Perpetua is barely aware that she has been lowered to the gallows’ deck and can only groan as strong hands work to open the noose without regard to how much her tortured neck is jostled. She is tossed off the back of the gallows onto a wood table forcing the stale air from her lungs. She blinks and opens her eyes another witch is hoisted up with the same noose she had just occupied. She is rolled over to be face down and she realizes she is about to be run through with spit. This whole fantasy of hers has become a really bad idea and she passes out.
When she comes to she feels the warmth rising from hot coals and smells the apple and hickory smoke melding with the aroma of Dorothy Brown’s secret baste of honey, lemon, butter, and 14 herbs and spices . The horizon rotates before her eyes and she feels her body slip about as the iron cage she is bound in rotates and realizes it is she that smells cooking! She tugs with her arms and legs but again there is no escape. With a raspy voice brought on by her damaged neck she says “I was supposed to be spit-roasted!”
He keeps slowly turning the crack and says “If you were you’d be dead by now. The archbishop promised you’d be cooked. If you had died being hanged Dorothy would have spit-roasted you but since you didn’t you get done a live long-pig witch-meat. If you don’t like it you can take it up with Dorothy Brown in a few hours. She’s a bit busy now entertaining some American VIPs from Detroit.”
“A few hours- I can’t last that long!”
“Ah, Sister Perpetua I think you will last long enough to see the sun set and the harvest moon rise.”
…and in less than five hours Barbara Moore will go to the gallows.
Tree
Back later... all be well
…and in less than five hours Barbara Moore will go to the gallows.
Time for reflection. I have but five hours left. If you don't believe me, read above. See. The word of Tree can never be doubted (well maybe a little
). I don't mind being hung so much. They haven't fed me or given me much to drink, so I should get through it without scatological embarrassment, although if the morning air is brisk enough I could suffer tumescent humiliation. But what me worry. I am not too eager, however, to be roasted on a spit like some suckling pig. I do wonder, though, how I might taste. Oh banish the thought. Now I only have four hours and 50 minutes left. Best to get some rest.
Time for reflection. I have but five hours left. If you don't believe me, read above. See. The word of Tree can never be doubted (well maybe a little). I don't mind being hung so much. They haven't fed me or given me much to drink, so I should get through it without scatological embarrassment, although if the morning air is brisk enough I could suffer tumescent humiliation. But what me worry. I am not too eager, however, to be roasted on a spit like some suckling pig. I do wonder, though, how I might taste. Oh banish the thought. Now I only have four hours and 50 minutes left. Best to get some rest.
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Friday afternoon, 2:30 PM, the last afternoon of the harvest festival and one hour before they come for the witch Barbara Moore for her execution…
‘This is gone beyond strange?’ I wonder. Could Chancellor Emeritus Despard Wraggs really stand by while the young Barbara Moore he mentored is hanged from the Little Brampton’s Market Square’s gallows? He could not go that low, could he?
Stranger things have happened and you have just entered the Twilight Zone’ –Rod ‘THT’ Sterling
I know I’m really not welcome but I go to see Barb anyway. She confirms my suspicions greeting me with “What the fuck are you doing here Tree?”
“I’m doing fine, thank you” I reply. “I thought I’d come by and see if there was anything I could do for you before… you know. Maybe a pack of Madame Wu’s or…”
“How about getting me out of here? You can shove your Madame Wu’s up your ass!”
I probably could but I think I will pass. She seems upset. I tell her I would gladly rescue her but those that know the ‘lay of the land’ are busy rescuing a crucified Resistance fighter named Messaline in WW II.
“Don’t you have your fucking Glock? Just blast me out of this!”
“I had to check it and the thirty 19 round clips at the archbishop’s country estate east of Eastwick. I was invited over for a late formal dinner tonight with the extended Wragg family. They are serving witch-meat. I have never had it. Have you, Barb?”
“Goddamn it Tree I never had. You realize I am going to be the witch-meat?” she yells.
“Spit-roasted or oven-baked” I ask. She seems really pissed…
I walk out of the church cellar and through livery stable. I see the witches staked in cages and ask if any them are Kim Kardashian.
I get nine middle fingers flashed at me. This is not my night…
-Tree
In the catacombs of the church (it is really a dungeon) I am locked in irons… like I was going anywhere anyway. With my arms in irons crossed behind my back my only escape from the lecherous crowd looking at and lewdly commenting about my body is looking down and even that is no real relief as when I look down I see what they are leering at; I am naked and taken awkward steps towards my death with my ankles tethered in shackles joined by a short but heavy chain between them that is fixed to the chains binding the woman’s ankles that leads this four witch coffle to the gallows. That’s me second from the front.
They cannot possibly hang me! This has to be some sick joke Despard is pulling on me! We are led in a circuitous route to the gallows so we can pass as many of gathered throng. It is good business I guess- they do charge admission to get into the square during Harvest Festival.
We pass the piled wood stacked around the stake and I look up. In near shock I exclaim “Siss, what are you doing?”
“I’m working on eliminating my bikini tan lines” she snaps. “What the hell does it look like I am doing? They are going to burn me to close out the Harvest Festival!”
“But why” I ask.
“I came to see you and they decided I had to be a witch of your coven. The only good thing is I’ll get to watch you hang!”
-Barbara Moore with time running out
Tree
‘This is gone beyond strange?’ I wonder. Could Chancellor Emeritus Despard Wraggs really stand by while the young Barbara Moore he mentored is hanged from the Little Brampton’s Market Square’s gallows? He could not go that low, could he?
Stranger things have happened and you have just entered the Twilight Zone’ –Rod ‘THT’ Sterling
I know I’m really not welcome but I go to see Barb anyway. She confirms my suspicions greeting me with “What the fuck are you doing here Tree?”
“I’m doing fine, thank you” I reply. “I thought I’d come by and see if there was anything I could do for you before… you know. Maybe a pack of Madame Wu’s or…”
“How about getting me out of here? You can shove your Madame Wu’s up your ass!”
I probably could but I think I will pass. She seems upset. I tell her I would gladly rescue her but those that know the ‘lay of the land’ are busy rescuing a crucified Resistance fighter named Messaline in WW II.
“Don’t you have your fucking Glock? Just blast me out of this!”
“I had to check it and the thirty 19 round clips at the archbishop’s country estate east of Eastwick. I was invited over for a late formal dinner tonight with the extended Wragg family. They are serving witch-meat. I have never had it. Have you, Barb?”
“Goddamn it Tree I never had. You realize I am going to be the witch-meat?” she yells.
“Spit-roasted or oven-baked” I ask. She seems really pissed…
I walk out of the church cellar and through livery stable. I see the witches staked in cages and ask if any them are Kim Kardashian.
I get nine middle fingers flashed at me. This is not my night…
-Tree
In the catacombs of the church (it is really a dungeon) I am locked in irons… like I was going anywhere anyway. With my arms in irons crossed behind my back my only escape from the lecherous crowd looking at and lewdly commenting about my body is looking down and even that is no real relief as when I look down I see what they are leering at; I am naked and taken awkward steps towards my death with my ankles tethered in shackles joined by a short but heavy chain between them that is fixed to the chains binding the woman’s ankles that leads this four witch coffle to the gallows. That’s me second from the front.
They cannot possibly hang me! This has to be some sick joke Despard is pulling on me! We are led in a circuitous route to the gallows so we can pass as many of gathered throng. It is good business I guess- they do charge admission to get into the square during Harvest Festival.
We pass the piled wood stacked around the stake and I look up. In near shock I exclaim “Siss, what are you doing?”
“I’m working on eliminating my bikini tan lines” she snaps. “What the hell does it look like I am doing? They are going to burn me to close out the Harvest Festival!”
“But why” I ask.
“I came to see you and they decided I had to be a witch of your coven. The only good thing is I’ll get to watch you hang!”
-Barbara Moore with time running out
Tree
I am so pissed at you Tree that my eyes glow ... See?
I am so pissed at you Tree that my middle finger twitches ... See?
OH SHIT! This is really happening to me. Second in line! Why am I in the middle? Why do some of the people in the crowd have long sticks? Why do they all look so stern? Are they suffering from constipation? They should eat less grain! Where is the gallows anyway? Why am I being paraded around like this naked? Is this just another of Tree's wet dreams, and all will be well when he sleeps off the Seagram's? Why did Dottie like this post? Does that mean I am in even bigger shit than I think I am? Wasn't Rod Serling's "Twilight Zone" only a half hour show? Shouldn't it end soon. Or, how about at least a commercial break? How come everything is in color rather than black and white? Am I rambling? Wouldn't you be if you were headed for the gallows in a Tree yarn? So many questions and so few answers. Fuck you Tree!(Another good episode Tree ... keeping us entertained as always
)
Glad you liked it... remember I just report what is going... Keep breathing deep while I type the next episode... and while you still can...View attachment 437020 I am so pissed at you Tree that my eyes glow ... See?
View attachment 437021 I am so pissed at you Tree that my middle finger twitches ... See?
View attachment 437022 OH SHIT! This is really happening to me. Second in line! Why am I in the middle? Why do some of the people in the crowd have long sticks? Why do they all look so stern? Are they suffering from constipation? They should eat less grain! Where is the gallows anyway? Why am I being paraded around like this naked? Is this just another of Tree's wet dreams, and all will be well when he sleeps off the Seagram's? Why did Dottie like this post? Does that mean I am in even bigger shit than I think I am? Wasn't Rod Serling's "Twilight Zone" only a half hour show? Shouldn't it end soon. Or, how about at least a commercial break? How come everything is in color rather than black and white? Am I rambling? Wouldn't you be if you were headed for the gallows in a Tree yarn? So many questions and so few answers. Fuck you Tree!
(Another good episode Tree ... keeping us entertained as always
Glad you liked it... remember I just report what is going... Keep breathing deep while I type the next episode... and while you still can...
breathing deep is what I do best ... how long do I have to hold it?