OUTLANDER Fanfiction The Capture and Martyrdom of Claire Fraser in the New World

[fumetto]

Prehistory

This story is based on Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series and Starz's TV show under the same name. The story starts roughly when the latest season of the show (S6) ended, and diverges from the 6th book (A Breath of Snow and Ashes) at chapter 90.

(Book and season 1) Claire was a WWII battle nurse in English army. Soon after the war ended, Claire and her then husband, Frank Randal, was visiting Scottish Highland when Claire stepped through a standing rock in a mysterious stone circle and landed in 1743. There she met a young Scottish warrior, Jamie Fraser, and fell into love with him and married him.

(Book and season 2) Armed with her knowledge of the future, Claire and Jamie tried to stop the impending Jacobite rising of 1745, when Scottish clans united under Bonnie Prince Charles in rebellion of English rule. They failed in their mission and was dragged into the war. The night before the doomed battle at Culloden, Jamie was determined to die in the last stand of the rising; and sent pregnant Claire through the stone back to the safety of 20th century.

(Book and season 3) Frank took Claire back in; and together they raised Brianna, her daughter with Jaime, in Boston. Claire became a successful surgeon; yet, unable to let go of her past love, her marriage with Frank fell apart. In 1968, after Frank had died in a car accident, and Brianna had grown into an] young adult, Claire learned that Jamie did not die in the battle of Culloden. Instead, he was imprisoned by the English for years then released. Claire travelled through the stone again, reunited with Jamie in 1766.

(Book 4/5/6 and season 4/5) Along with Jamie's nephew, young Ian Murray, Jamie and Claire moved to the New World. They acquired a large parcel of land in the wilderness of North Carolina mountains, attracted immigrants to settle there as tenants, and established a thriving settlement called Fraser's Ridge. Brianna, and her 20th century boyfriend, Roger MacKenzie, both travelled through the stone to find Claire and Jamie. They got married and settled down at Fraser's Ridge, and had a son named Jemmy. However, troubles were brewing. Richard Brown was the leader of a nearby committee of safety, a militia self-appointed as the law enforcers in the countryside. His brother, Lionel Brown, led a group of armed thugs to raid Fraser's ridge. They kidnapped and brutally raped Claire. Jamie rescued her and killed off Lionel Brown and his gang.

(Book 5/6 and season 6) Tom Christie, an acquaintance and rival in the English prison with Jamie after Culloden, settled on Fraser's Ridge along with his young adult son Allan and daughter Malva. Claire liked Malva and took her in as the apprentice of her medical practice. However, Malva got pregnant and falsely accused that Jamie was the father of her unborn baby. One day Claire discovered Malva’s body in her garden, her throat slit by unknown assailant. In an attempt to save the unborn baby, Claire cut open Malva's belly to take the baby out, but she was unable to keep the baby alive. There had long been rumors and suspicions that Claire was a witch, due to her advanced and unconventional medical knowledge and practice. Malva's murder put Claire and Jamie in the center of a storm. Seizing this opportunity for revenge, Richard Brown and his safety of committee arrested Claire and Jamie to travel to Wilmington for trial. Tom Christie came along to ensure Frasers' safety and a fair trial. Halfway through this journey, Jamie and Claire were forcefully separated by Brown's men. The story of Claire's ordeal started from this point...



The main characters of the forecoming parts:


Claire Beauchamp Randall Fraser is a nurse, later a doctor, and a time-traveler who has lived both in the 20th century and the 18th century. While on a second honeymoon in Scotland with her husband, Frank Randall, Claire inadvertently travels two hundred years into the past, where she meets and eventually marries Jamie Fraser. As the primary (and sole first-person) narrator of the Outlander novels, Claire is compassionate but medically ruthless, with a quick tongue that tends to get her into trouble.



James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser is a Scottish soldier and landowner. He is well educated and has a knack for learning languages. Raised to be the future Laird of Lallybroch, he is a natural leader, from the homestead to the battlefield. He first meets Claire on his return home to Scotland from France.



Brianna Ellen Randall Fraser MacKenzie is the second daughter of Claire and Jamie Fraser. Brianna did not know the story of her true parentage until after the man she had thought was her father, Frank Randall, had died and her mother took her to Scotland, where she told Brianna and Roger MacKenzie about her journey through time and her life with Jamie.



Lord John Grey is an English soldier and diplomat. At age sixteen, he meets the infamous Jamie Fraser before the Battle of Prestonpans, and the two do not meet again until he becomes the governor of Ardsmuir, a Scottish prison. They form a tenuous friendship, which soon becomes complicated by the fact that Lord John has fallen in love with Jamie.



Neil Forbes is the local lawyer in Cross Creek, where his most prominent client (until 1775) was Jocasta Innes of River Run. In early 1770, he purchased a sawmill in Averasboro. The same year, he made a proposal of marriage to Brianna Fraser of Fraser's Ridge, but she declined his suit. This rejection, in combination with several altercations with her father, Jamie Fraser, contributed to Forbes' animosity toward Fraser family



Phillip Wylie is a wealthy plantation owner in Edenton in the colony of North Carolina.
Little is known of Phillip's personal history beyond that he came into his wealth at a young age. Through his wealth he moves in high ranked social circles knowing people with various levels of influence.



Richard Brown is a resident of Brownsville, and the brother of Lionel Brown and Thomasina Brown.
Richard and his brother Lionel have both been a source of trouble for the Fraser family since their first encounter in 1770, when the brothers attempt to kill Isaiah Morton, a member of Jamie Fraser's militia.



Tom Christie is the father of Allan Christie and uncle of Malva Christie. He joined the Stuarts during the Jacobite Rising of 1745, and was imprisoned at Ardsmuir, where he met Jamie Fraser
The son of a self-made merchant from Edinburgh, Tom inherited his father's business as a young man. When the Stuart Rising began in 1745, he paid a visit to O'Sullivan, the quartermaster-general and adjutant for the Jacobite army, and came away from the meeting as a commissary officer. He followed the army through the campaign, but left it at Nairn the day before the Battle of Culloden. He had left it too late, though – driving a commissary wagon, he was waylaid by a government troop of Campbells, and they arrested him.



Ian Fraser Murray is the youngest son of Ian and Jenny Murray. He is most commonly referred to as Young Ian, to avoid confusion with his father.
The events on the day of Young Ian's birth prove a rather inauspicious beginning to an eventful life. His uncle, Jamie, living in a cave at the time, had come down to the house to be with his sister when she went into labor. The elder Ian was not there at the time, having been arrested and taken away to deal with the matter of who rightfully owns Lallybroch. There were redcoats still lingering in the district on the day Ian was born.

 

[fumetto]

Chapter 1

Claire screamed and kicked hard, but she was no match to the two men who jumped on the wagon. They held her down firmly and the wagon took off. Her eyes were fixed on Jaime, who was struggling against the six men holding him down. "Claire!" He yelled desperately, but a man hit him hard on the back of the head with the butt of a rifle, and he fell to the ground, his strong and powerful body limp. "Jaime! Jamie!" Claire squealed, her voice hoarse, and her heart sank like a stone. Then wagon turn a corner and Jaime was out of her sight.

Half an hour later a few riders caught up with the wagon, led by Richard Brown and Tom Christie. "Bastard, you fucking bastard!" Claire cursed at Brown. "What did you do to Jamie?" "Nothing! We are just making sure to send him safely home." Brown grinned cheerfully. "As for you, dear mistress Fraser, we will see to that you answer for your crime. Your neck must look very handsome hanging from a noose."

"Tom, you must go back, you must save Jamie." Claire turned pleadingly toward Christie. "Trust me, mistress, Mr. Fraser is safe. Mr. Brown's men will not harm him. He gave me his word of honor." Tom Christie said grimly. "And you trust his words?" Claire demanded incredulously. "Yes, I do. Your husband can take care of himself. I swore to keep you safe until you receive a fair trial. I will not leave you out of my sight." Said Tom Christie firmly. He reached out, gave Claire's hand a reassuring squeeze, and walked back to his horse.

The small procession continued down south until sundown, then gather around a campfire to have their supper. Tom Christie brought Claire some food, but Claire was in no mood to eat. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind, most of them about Jamie. She stood up to retire to the wagon, but Matt Hodgson, one of Brown's men, stopped her in her track. Richard Brown walked over, made a dramatic bow to Claire, and said, "Mistress Fraser, we would like to invite you to stay for the night's entertainment." "Entertainment?" Claire was confused for a brief moment, then tried to turn and run away as understanding sank in. However, Hodgson and Peter Dewson, another Brown's man, grabbed her arms and pushed her firmly against the wagon. She landed a kick on Dewson's shin, who grimaced but didn't budge. Hodgson locked one of her legs between his own, and Dewson promptly got her other leg. "Let me go you filthy pigs! Let me go!" But her protest was swiftly cut short by a punch by Brown in her belly that took the wind out of her.

Tom Christie hurried over and yelled out: "What is god's name is this? I demand you to stop it this minute!" Brown gave him a broad grin. "Calm down, Mr. Christie. It is just some harmless fun, everybody involved will like it, Mistress Fraser included. You are invited to have your turn too. How long since you last tasted the sweet body of a woman?


Long enough for me." "God and law do not allow rape!" Tom Christie protested loudly. "I am the law, right? After all I lead the committee of safety. As for God, putting a murderous witchy bitch into her place is doing lord's bidding, isn't it?" Christie was about to protest further, but one of Brown's men pulled out his dirk and stuck it to his waist and forced him to step back and sit down.

Brown turned back to Claire, who was immobilized by two men against the wagon. "Your mother must be proud of you for treating a woman like this!" Claire hissed at him. "Well, my mother would be proud of me bringing justice to a witch and murderess. Now let's see what is on the schedule tonight." He made an exaggerating bow. Claire spitted at him, but he merely wiped away the spit with smile on his face. Then with one swift movement, he tore open Claire's gown and bodice, exposing her thin shift. Wet with sweat due to her struggle, the shift is nearly transparent in the firelight. Brown swallowed at the sight of her nipples, grabbed the shift and torn it down. Her breast popped right out, areolas and nipples dark in scarlet rose color again fine fair skin. "Exquisite indeed!" Brown murmured and kneaded her breasts appreciatively. "I suppose you are not young anymore, with silver in your hair, but working for devil certainly has its benefits". "You will go straight to hell you bastard!" Claire hissed. "Possible, but if I do, I am sure you will be waiting there for me." He sank his head to her breast, sniffing, licking and flickering with his tongue. "Ah, witch you may be, I cannot find fault with your bosoms."

Claire struggled violently. Annoyed, Brown held her chin tightly and stared right into her eyes. "Madam, you have a beautiful face, very beautiful indeed. I heard that my brother and his men beat you all black and blue, even broke you fine little nose. Ah, how very tasteless of them! I shall be very reluctant to do the same, very. To think of ruining your beautiful face like that, hmmm... So please, don't force me to." Claire froze at this as memory of that horrific night with Lionel Brown's gang rushed back to her mind. Brown smiled at her reaction and leaned over to lick her earlobe. She turned her head away in disgust but did not protest further.

Thus satisfied with the effect of his threat, Brown turned his attention to the lower half of the body of his helpless victim. Skirts and shift fallen to the ground, and Claire stood in stark nakedness in the fire light. It was a marvelous body. She was well-proportioned, with long and slender limbs, heavy and firm breasts, narrow waist and well-endowed hip. Her skin was creamy, smooth and supple, accentuated by the scarlet areolas and nipples and the dark bush between her thighs. the only mark that decades had left on her was the somewhat faint one on her belly, a souvenir from Briana's birth.

Brown swallowed audibly at the sight. Behind him, his gang stared hungrily, eyes glittering as a pack of wolves surveying their prey. Tom Christie, sitting across the fire with his head hanging low, looked up and his jaw dropped, then he caught himself and lowered his head quickly, face in deep red. Brown chuckled, "oh well, it was the hard work of escorting you so far south, mistress. But I have to say we are getting some fine payback, aren't we, lads?" Laughter and jeer rose from his gang, but Claire held her head high in defiance, her eyes were almost spitting fire.

Brown slid two fingers through her bush, parted her slit and rubbed against her folds. Claire squirmed in vain trying to get away from him. Brown drew back to appraise his fingers, "hmmm, a bit dryer than my liking, but let's fix that". He licked his fingers, slid into back down to her slit, and pushed up into her vagina. Claire jerked, but bit down her lips and didn't make a sound. Brown pushed his finger all way up, slid down, then all way back again for a few times. "Nice and tight, nice and tight", he said gleefully, withdrew his fingers, and sniffed deeply to take in Claire's scent.

Brown's breeches dropped to the ground, and his dick stood hungrily. He made another deep bow to Claire, "Mistress, let the entertainment begin, shall we?" Matt Hodgson and the other man push Claire down onto the wagon platform, her face and ample bosoms pressed tightly against the wood floor. Her legs were pulled open forcefully, completely exposing her backside. Her round and full buttocks, her dark anus and her bushy quim were all in full view of Brown and the men. Many of them reached down into their breeches. Tom Christie stole another glance and hastily turned away; his hands curled in tight fists. Brown stroke against her dry slit impatiently, then rubbed a bit of spit on his own dick, and thrusted right into Claire's sex. Claire only let out a muffled painful grunt and stayed silent afterward. Brown's thrusts were slow and deliberate at first, but soon replaced by a increasingly urgent rhythm. He pounded Claire's vagina hard and fast, hands pulling her arse wide open. Then with a satisfied howl, spread his seeds deep inside her.

"How do you like that, whore?" Brown asked as he came off Claire. "I am not a whore, and you are a pathetic rapist!" She pushed the words through of her clenched teeth. "Jamie will kill you, I promise you!" Brown laughed hysterically at this. "I am sorry, but you do realize that you will never see Mr. Fraser, ever again, right?" Claire felt a cold shiver passed through her spine. "But you promised not to harm him!" "Ah, I am honored that you trust my promise." Brown chuckled. "Well, I am flexible in this regard, and given your prophecy I shall seriously reconsider if it is worth keeping this promise." He continued cheerfully as Claire's heart sank to the bottom. "But don't worry, he is safe, and I mean him no harm at all. It is just that he won't set foot on this land again, at least not before your body had rotten away for a long long time."

Brown's men already lined up behind him with their breeches down and cocks up. They took their turn to ravage the poor woman; their cum overflew from her vagina. Claire suffered through the ordeal quietly. As her last claim to dignity, she refused to let her painful cry add to the rapists' excitement. But silent tears slid down her cheek freely. As the last man pulled up his breeches, Brown turned to Tom Christie. "Come on Mr. Christie, it is your turn. I assure you it was the finest entertainment." "No, you will be judged before god for this hideous crime!" Tom Christie growled. "I know you want it; I saw you peeking at her quim. Am I not right?" "You are a devil, Mr. Brown, and I will not suffer this!" Tom Christie stood up and stomped away amid the laughter and jeers of the men.

Matt Hodgson pulled Claire up, her body unsteady with exhaustion and hurt. He turned her around and forced her to kneel before him. He held his smelly half stiff cock to her mouth. "Suck it, bitch! I want you to suck it hard so that I can have another go!" His companions cheered loudly. "No way you filthy pig, I will never suck your tiny pathetic cock!" Claire retorted. Hodgson rubbed his cock on her lips, but Claire turned away in disgust and kept her mouth firmly shut. Getting impatient, he grabbed her hair and pinched her nose tightly. When her mouth was forced open to take in air, he thrusted his cock deep into her mouth. "Lick it, suck it, or else ... Aoooooo" He could not finish his sentence before Claire bit down hard on his cock. Hodgson let out an inhumanly cry, but he could not get away as Claire would not let go. Brown jumped over and slapped her hard, Claire fell over and Hodgson was finally released. He staggered back, holding his appendage. Bleeding profusely, it was still attached, but just barely. "Help, help!" He cried out. His companions, watching the scene half alarmed and half amused, came over to wrap it with handkerchief. "You probably won't have any use of it from now on." One of the men shook his head. In a furious fit, Hodgson pulled out his dirk and lunged at Claire.

"Stop it you fool!" Brown knocked him over before he could reach Claire and cut her throat. "Remember, I don't want her damaged now. Don't you dare to put your knife to her. I want to see her hang naked from a noose, her arms and legs thrashing as she fights for air that will never be there, and she loses control of her bladder, what a sight that will be." "But we can hang her right here and now!" Hodgson protested. "No, she is a witch and a murderess, she deserves a much larger audience, doesn't she? She will be paraded through the town, and the judge may well order a multi-day execution, fitting for a witch and whore that she is. I certainly would not deprive her of that honor.”

“Now you only have yourself to blame.” Brown continued, wiping blood off Claire’s lip and chin. “What fool would stick his cock into the mouth of such a vixen without teaching her manners first?” He turned to the men gathering around her. “Maybe a touch or two with a red-hot iron will stimulate Mistress Fraser to oral excellence, what do you folks think?" A chorus of "yay" came from the crowd. One man added, “A red-hot iron on the bosom makes a good pussycat out of a wildcat in no time at all.” The men nodded eagerly; many had their hand on their cocks again. “I heard bitches like her love this stuff, better than milk they say.” Another man commented. “Yay, let her drink it!” The crowd cheered.

Brown put a poker into the campfire, watched it turning red hot with satisfaction, and brought it an inch from Claire's nipple. Claire flinched and tried to draw back, but she couldn't move in the grasp of two men. "Mistress Fraser, I am sure you can do an excellent job with your sweet mouth. Can you open it to show us, if you please?" Claire clenched her teeth at first, but fear got better of her when Brown brought the iron so close to her defenseless nipple that she let out a cry of pain and let her mouth stay half-open. Brown turned and grabbed Peter Dewson and shoveled him in front of Claire. "Now you will satisfy Mr. Dewson with your little mouth and tongue."

Dewson looked at Claire and then Hodgson in apprehension and indecision. "Don't worry Peter, Mistress Fraser will be on her best behavior. Won't you, Mistress?" Claire nodded as the poker closed in on her nipples again. "Maybe you will be so kind to lick Mr. Dewson's balls first?" Holding back tears and disgust, Claire stuck her tongue out to lick Dewson's testicles thoroughly. After a little while Peter's cock was firm again, and he stuck it into Claire's mouth. Wishing to end it as soon as possible, Claire sucked it in earnest, and her tongue licked and teased the glans. Soon Dewson turned into deep-red as he grabbed her head and pushed his cock all way into her throat. She gagged in reflects and spewed the intruding cock out, coughing violently. "Put it back!" Brown grabbed her hair. She hastily took Dewson's cock in again and sucked vigorously. In a moment Dewson let out a low growl and exploded deep into Claire throat. Claire tried to spat it out, but Brown bended her head backward and said, "Swallow it!" Claire swallowed and retched, barely able to keep the vomit down.

Excited by the sight, Brown's cock was ready for action again. He pushed Claire back, lifted her legs over his shoulder and shoveled it into her center again.

 

[Jennica2]

WOW. What an incredible work. What a great story. I don't even watch the show and this is terrific. Those are some of the best manips I've ever seen on the forced BJ's! Congrats and thank you!

<3

Jen

 

[Jennica2]

Dewson looked at Claire and then Hodgson in apprehension and indecision. "Don't worry Peter, Mistress Fraser will be on her best behavior. Won't you, Mistress?" Claire nodded as the poker closed in on her nipples again. "Maybe you will be so kind to lick Mr. Dewson's balls first?" Holding back tears and disgust, Claire stuck her tongue out to lick Dewson's testicles thoroughly. After a little while Peter's cock was firm again, and he stuck it into Claire's mouth. Wishing to end it as soon as possible, Claire sucked it in earnest, and her tongue licked and teased the glans. Soon Dewson turned into deep-red as he grabbed her head and pushed his cock all way into her throat. She gagged in reflects and spewed the intruding cock out, coughing violently. "Put it back!" Brown grabbed her hair. She hastily took Dewson's cock in again and sucked vigorously. In a moment Dewson let out a low growl and exploded deep into Claire throat. Claire tried to spat it out, but Brown bended her head backward and said, "Swallow it!" Claire swallowed and retched, barely able to keep the vomit down.

This part is just tremendous. Great description of the blowjob. The forceful control. Grabbing her by the hair. Making her swallow. Soooo goood.

 

[fumetto]

This part is just tremendous. Great description of the blowjob. The forceful control. Grabbing her by the hair. Making her swallow. Soooo goood.

Thanks for the nice words, 2nd storypart is already finished, also the first 4 manips, I need 6 more, then the 2nd part of story will be released, in about 2 weeks. This kinky fanfiction story will be about Claires capture by Richard Brown and his men, will be a little bit different than in series and books.

 

[fumetto]

Chapter 2

The following days passed in a blur. The group settled into a routine. They push south in the days. The men's spirit improved markedly, they laughed, jeered, and made fun of their "whore", Claire, who was tied up in the wagon. Tom Christie followed at a distance, his head hanging low. At night, they stopped for supper, then had their "entertainment". Claire almost got used to it, if such a thing was possible. Under the constant threat of bodily harm and torture she mostly stopped resisting. She just laid there, allowing one after another men, stinking in their sweaty unwashed bodies and their bad breath, to get on top of her, raping her repeatedly, releasing their seeds inside her, on her belly, her breast and sometimes her face.

She took all the abuses without much more than occasional painful grunts. Truth be told, they weren't particularly rough. Brown told his men that he didn't want her damaged. Sex with Jamie could be much rougher than this; both of them often ended up with bruises, and she always liked it very much. But then, that was with Jamie, and she was always turned on and wet, well-lubricated. Taking the assaults dry was always painful, especially the first one. After that, cum served as lubricant which made it a bit easier. She retreated inward as the assaults on her body continues. She learned how to introspect her body a long time ago. Now she used it as a sanctuary. She would let her minds eyes go through her own body parts and organs, taking inventory. Overall, despite the suffering over the past weeks, all of them were in surprisingly good shape, except, when she got to the vagina, she was acutely aware of the foreign objects that repeatedly assaulted her. But she found that she could assert some control over her vagina. Instead of tensing up automatically when the assault came, she could actually relax it a bit, thus making it a little bit less painful. It was certainly nothing even close to pleasure, she could not bear associating that notion with what she was going through, but she found no reasons not to lessen her own suffering, if she could manage it.

It was the 5th, or 6th night after Claire and Jamie were separated. Claire lost count. They were still passing through thick forests like the days before, but the air has a faint salty smell. So Wilmington was close. Claire could not help wondering what laid ahead for her. The prison? That seemed like an attractive alternative of her current situation. And what beyond that? The trial? And the gallows? "I am innocent!" She told herself firmly, but then did the truth really matter? She pushed these thoughts aside.

By sundown they reached the edge of forest. There was an abandoned barn in the open field, standing forlornly in the purplish last light. Its door had fallen to the ground; some wood boards had rotted away; there were holes in the roof. But it made a reasonable shelter and they stopped there to spend the night.

Brown opened a barrel of whisky and distributed it freely. The men drank cheerfully around the fire, louder than ever. Brown even handed a flask over to Claire. She took a gulp. It was good, smooth whisky; both warmth and dread spread simultaneously in her stomach. She recognized it immediately, it was the JAMMF special, the good batches that Jamie made, stolen by Brown in his raid. It brought back the thoughts of the comfort of the Big House, and most of all, of Jamie. Oh Jamie, her heart ached at the thought of her beloved husband. Where was he now? Was he still alive? Brown was firm that Jamie was not harmed, but how could she believe man as vile as a cobra? And how could she believe the hollow assurance of the coward of a man as Tom Christie? She pushed that thought aside as well, and told herself firmly, "he is alive, because he has nine lives; and he will come for me, because he is Jamie, and I am his sassenach."

Jamie would not come before the time for tonight's "entertainment" though. As the men undressed Claire, she kept her face as blank as she could. Fueled by copious amount of whisky, Brown's gang were more raucous and impatient.

Peter Dewson shoveled Claire over to a haystack and ordered, "get on it, on your all four... like a bitch!" “No! Your perverts!” Claire resisted and would not get into the humiliating pose. Getting impatient, Brown unbuckled his bet. He pushed Claire against the wall and slapped her hard on her buttocks with the belt.

“Ahhh!” Claire cried out painfully, her arse bright red in a flash. Another slap landed with a crack. Then Brown turned her over and asked, “are you going to do as told now?” Claire didn’t answer but kicked him on the shin as hard as she could. Furious, Brown slapped his belt right across her tits. The pain on her sensitive parts was much sharper than on her butts, and her cry turned into scream as she doubled over with her arms raised protectively over her breasts. Brown dragged her by the hair to the haystack and threw her onto it. “Now, get on your all four! Do you hear me!”

She complied, got on her hands and knees, her arse lifted high in the air, exposing her sex to the eager thugs, waiting for the coming penetration. One man grabbed her soft and round buttocks. He kneaded them and her bushy mound vigorously, sending sharp pain through her body. Then with two thumbs he parted her lips to open her pink orifice wide for everybody around her to see, bringing a round of lewd cheers from the gang. "That makes a nice nest for my bird." He rammed right into her orifice. His pelvis slammed against Claire’ red butt loudly. “Owww” Claire grunted painfully, lowered her head and shut her mouth and eyes tightly while enduring the assault. But Dewson pulled her hair up and commanded her to open her mouth and take his cock in. It was a wet, sloppy blowjob. Her warm mouth was filled with saliva. Dewson thrusted so deep and hard that she kept made gurgling sound. "That is it, like a bitch in heat!" The sight of naked Claire getting fucked on both ends and her still reddish boobs swaying to-and-fro, drove the men around her mad. They greedily snatched at her breast, her arse, all trying to get a piece of Claire, just as a wolf pack tearing up an innocent white lamb. Matt Hodgson joined them too. He grabbed one of Claire's dangling breasts, pinched and pulled the nipple so hard that she screamed in agony. "Get lost!" Brown dragged him out of the way.

After a moment Dewson said, "let's change up." He laid down on the hay and pulled Claire to sit on top of him, sheathing his cock deep into her. The men standing around competed to put their cocks into her mouth. One man shoveled his cock into her mouth. "It is my turn!" Another shouted. "Mate, have some patience, I may not be long, this bitch sucks well. Ohhhhh..." The first man leisurely thrusted into Claire's mouth, with dreamy expression on his face. "To heck with it..." The second man apparently had no patience, instead just pushed his penis into Claire's mouth as well. With two cocks inside, Claire's mouth overflew with saliva and was about to burst.

She was gagging and chocking but could not make a sound. Two other men each grabbed one of Claire's arms, wrapped her hands on their cocks and ordered her to rub.

Only after the two men pulled their cocks out, when she was able to cry for mercy. "Please, please stop, this is too much." But her feeble plea was immediately choked back as another men pushed his cock into her mouth.

The abuse only stopped a couple hours later. By then Claire was lying on the hay unconscious; her white, fine body covered with cum, slap marks and bruises. Brown spotted Tom Christie, still sitting far from the scene, miserable and half drunk. He walked over to pull Christie up. Christie resisted, but Brown could clearly see his breeches bulging like a small tent. "Come on," he shoveled Christie over to the haystack. "You always want her, don't you? This is your last chance. Tomorrow she will be in a prison cell and off limit!" "No, no, not like this! Not rape!" Christie was almost pleading. "It doesn't matter, she won't even know you did it. See, she is not even sensible." Christie tried his best to resist but Brown could see the desire burning like fire in his eyes. He gestured two men to pick Claire up, took Christie's right hand and pressed it on Claire breast. Uncontrollably, Christie's fingers caressed her silky skin and pinched lightly her dark cherry like nipple. Brown turned her slightly so that her backside faced Christie directly, and place Christie's fingers on her quim, letting them explore on their free will the terrain, her bushy pubis, her soft labia, and the moist opening that led directly the Christie's deepest secret desire. Christie's right hand, the one that had been fixed by Claire with her expert surgical skill and her tender care, shook convulsively on her most sensitive skin, as he battled, lost his war against his own devil. He let out a growl, pulled down his breeches to expose his fully erect and wet-tipped cock. He grabbed her waist, penetrated her with one quick move. Claire let out of an unconscious groan, but her body remained boneless while Christie thrusted urgently into her over and over. It didn't take him long before he made a whiny sound, almost a mewl, and his body tensed and shook. He rested on her buttocks for a moment, red-faced and panting, then his half hard cock left her, drawing out with it a trickle of whiteness. Brown watched with great satisfaction as Christie turned and staggered away, his shoulder hunched in a soundless sob.

Claire woke up confused. She didn't know where she was and what was happening to her, but those didn't matter. Her body knew without a shred of doubt the one thing she urgently needed, air. She struggled to move her arms and legs, but they were all tied up and spread wide; she tried to arch her back but was weighed down by something very heavy; something hard and cold was penetrating her in relentless thrusts; and worst of all, she could not breath. All she could manage was making low chocking sound while wiggling like mad on the hay. Yet at the same time, a strange warmness was spreading from between her legs to her whole body.

Matt Hodgson kneeled on Claire's breasts with grim satisfaction. "Fucking bitch, you have to pay!" He said under his breath. His right hand held a death grip over Claire's throat; his left thrusted the barrel of his pistol, in lieu of his dysfunctional cock, in and out of Claire's vagina. Under him, Claire's face and neck had turn deep red, her eyes rolling back. Her areolas swelled; her nipples hardened into erection. The pistol barrel moved with increasing lubricated ease amid sound of splashy wetness.

Claire's desperate panic was receding as her consciousness started to fade away. Suddenly, with a loud crash, the grip on her throat and the pressure on her breasts were gone. Air rushed in, almost chocking her. Her chest moved up and down fervently. Then she was washed away by an overwhelming sensation, every end of her nerves exploded with brilliance. "Ahhhhhhhh~~~" her loud moan pierced the stillness of the night.

Brown, who just kicked Hodgson off Claire, watched with fascination as her back arched upward, her breasts bouncing, her toes curling, and her legs shaking in vain attempts to close around the pistol firmly lodged in her channel. He bended down and pulled the pistol out; her fluid exploded with it, a few drops splashed on him face. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh", Claire gave another high-pitched scream. He could see clearly her pink and glistening clitoris, firmly protruding from its fold, demanding attention. He pressed the ball of a thumb on it and pushed 2 fingers into her soaking cunt. He rubbed the thumb quickly on her clitoris, curling his fingers and pulling at the inner wall of her vagina, sending waves and waves of sensation through Claire body. "Ahhhhhhhh~~~~ahhhhhhh~~~~", she wailed again and again, her limbs in spasms, her juice flew freely from her cunt. All Brown's men gathered around and watched the spectacle gleefully, hoots and jeers echoed in the barn. Tom Christie sat at the far corner of the barn, his hands tense over his ears.

Brown bent over Claire's deep rosy face as she gradually came down from the peaks of her climax, still panting. "Mistress Fraser, what a show! I have never seen anything like this! I was wondering why you were so cold these days, never suspected that this was what you really needed." Brown lifted the pistol, barrel still glistening, and licked it appreciatively, "Mmmm, that tastes good!” He wiped the pistol barrel across Claire’s lips. “You should taste yourself, so horny!” Another round of loud laughter and lewd remarks came from the crowd. “Such a whore!” “Have you seen her juice, I could fill my cup with it!” “Her moan! If there were a cemetery nearby, I bet she would have raised dead buggers to come fuck her!”

Brown's eyes were still travelling up and down her naked defenseless body. "Well, I hope you can have a quiet sleep now. Because tomorrow morning we will need to present you properly to the good folks of Wilmington, as the whore you are." The disinterested surgeon part of Claire's mind was telling her that it was simply the result of asphyxiation, which was known to trigger strong orgasm. Her brain, confused by the lack of, and the sudden return of oxygen, released powerful dose of dopamine and serotonin into her blood stream. Nothing more than biology and chemistry. Yet Claire shrank back in utter humiliation, the wetness between and under her legs the mark of her shame.

===

Jamie pulled hard on the rope. The sailors around him were all shouting at each other, but he could barely hear a thing. The wind drowned out their voices, the driving rain blurred their vision. In front of them, a wave the size of a small mountain was moving fast at their ship, which was struggling to turn to face it head on.

Yet Jamie wasn't really paying much attention. The same questions were racing through his mind for the thousandth time, where was Claire? And how was she doing? Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the same image, Claire, furious and panicking, held back by two men on a wagon moving away from him... That was the last memory he held of her, before his world turned black.

He woke up with a throbbing headache. His hands were tied, and ankles chained to a wooden post. He was apparently in a cabin, aboard a ship; and judging from the nausea that he got from ups and downs of the ship's movement, it was ocean-going. He wasn't sure how many days he spent in that cabin, overcame by seasickness, vomiting his gut out. But over time, the nausea lessened, and he was finally able to eat some of the stale food thrusted in front of him by a sailor. But all his questions about the whereabout of Claire only got a blank stare in return. The only useful things he learned were that the ship was named Mercury, and they were heading to Scotland. Scotland, his birthplace and beloved home country, he would imagine that in a different circumstance, he would be happy to embark on such a journey, if, his sassenach was by his side. But now it felt like the worst nightmare. The trip would take at least two months, or possibly three; then even if he could find a return ship immediately, it would be almost half a year before he could return to the colony. All when Claire was held by the thug of Brown, sending to jail, putting on a trial for a murder that she did not commit; and God knows what the sentence would be. The thoughts of what Claire would be facing it all alone, without his protection, was tearing his heart out. And the prospect of not knowing what happened to Claire for six months was driving him to the edge of madness.

Then the cabin door opened, the sailor came in and unlocked his chain and untied his hand. "A big storm is coming; captain needs all hands on deck! Move!"

 

[fumetto]

Claire's martyrdom will soon continue

 

[fumetto]

Chapter 3, I hope the audience enjoys this fanfiction story.

Claire could barely get up the next morning. She was exhausted and her body sored everyway, especially her butts, her breasts and nipples, and her vagina, where she took most abuses. Yet Brown forced her to get up and half-dragged her out of the barn. In front of her, the wagon had been completely transformed. Its canopy had been dismantled. Three men were busying fixing two long pieces of lumber to its floor, forming an X shape.

"What?" Claire was confused for a moment with uneasy dread. Brown grinned maliciously, "Well, how do you like it, Mistress Fraser? This is a St. Andrew’s cross. Do you think it would be fitting display of your lovely body? You will be paraded on it, naked, if I may add, through Wilmington so that everybody will see and remember what you are! You will be instantly famous! With such a grand entrance, and your final dance on the gallows, people will talk about you for years... maybe for generations!"

"No, no, you can't do this! You pervert!" In complete panic, Claire turned to run away from the wagon. But Brown's men caught her, pinned her to the ground and stripped her naked. They carried her to the wagon and started to tie her wrists and ankles to the cross. Claire struggled and cursed violently, but minutes later her hands were tied to the cross. She tried to squeeze her legs together with all her strength, but the men ruthlessly pulled her legs open and bounded her ankles to the cross as well. She was helplessly stretched spread-eagle on the cross, her body completely exposed. Brown looked at her smirking, as if enjoying a piece of artwork of his own making. Suddenly he frowned little bit watch Claire's heaving breasts. "I trust Mistress Fraser is not very comfortable in this position. That will not do. Let's make her more comfortable." He then ordered his men to tie ropes around her breasts to the cross. Her boobs, forced forward by the tight rope around they, turned red and protruded prominently. Brown nodded with satisfaction to this sight.

Tom Christie, alarmed by the commotion, ran out of the barn to see what was going on. He was stopped by Brown's men and could not get close to the wagon. But he continued to protest loudly. "You can't mistreat her like that! You promised that she would be treated fairly." "Oh, this is certainly fair treatment, I can assure you, for a witch like her, and a murderess, and a whore." Brown winked at Christie. "Apparently you agreed last night, didn't you?" Deflated, Tom Christie's head hang low; his face turned deep ruby. "But this is indecent, at very least you need to cover her up..." He continued feebly. "Oh, well, well, I applaud your sense of propriety. Let's cover the whore up." Brown turned to his men. "For now..."

Then they set off towards Wilmington. The road was uneven, and wagon bumped along. It was very uncomfortable for Claire, tied to the cross. Yet she paid little attention to the physical discomfort, as her heart was filled with fear of what was waiting for her in Wilmington. She was covered only by a blanket wrapped around her. While it did cover most of her breasts, her torso, her thighs and her bushy mound, her legs below knees and one of her shoulders were still exposed; and the top of one of her ample breasts, and a bit of her cleavage were visible. Worst of all, she wasn't sure at all this little protection would stay when they entered Wilmington.

Her worst fear turned into reality just before noon. As they approached the town, buildings and shops started to appear, and the road was getting busy. Brown signaled the procession to stop. He jumped off his horse and walked over to Claire. "Show time, mistress!" With a bow, he pulled the blanket off Claire, exposing her naked body. "No! No! Please cover me up!" Claire cried and pleaded to no avail. Securely bound to the cross she couldn't do anything about. "Matt, come over here." Brown called out. Hodgson pulled out his pistol. "No, no, no..." Claire watched with horror. "Can't properly show you without your favorite toy, can we?" With a wicked grin, Hodgson penetrated her with the pistol barrel. "Ahhhhhh..." Claire screamed out in pain. Brown patted her mound happily. "Now we have a show!" He turned to his horse and gestured the group to start moving again, leaving the pistol lodged in Claire's channel. Christie again protested feebly but was easily silenced by two men drawing their pistols on him.

Crowd quickly gathered around and followed the group as they moved into Wilmington. People were very much scandalized and even more excited at such an unforgettable sight, a beautiful woman, stripped naked and bound to a cross, paraded through the town. Her breast bounced against the ropes tied around her chest, her sex on open display with her legs spread wide apart. Leading the procession, Brown shouted proudly, "Good folks for Wilmington, come to see our committee of safety at your service. We have apprehended Claire Fraser, this despicable witch and murderess, to bring her to justice." People gasped at his vivid description of Claire's accused crimes. Someone shouted, "Justice for the girl and baby! Hang the witch!" That attracted a loud cheer from the crowd. Another yelled, "No, you cannot hang a witch, they would come back and haunt you. A witch must be burnt, that is the only way to kill them off for good." A louder cheer of approval came from the crowd. Claire desperately proclaimed her innocence, yet the crowd paid no attention to her plea; and some people started to throw garbage at her.

A fashionably dressed woman stepped out of a shop when she spotted the procession. "What is god's name..." at first, she was confused with the sight, then her jaw dropped as recognition sunk in. "Is that Mrs. Fraser?" She asked incredulously. Only less than a year ago, they had been enjoying a tea together and congenially chatting about happenings in the colony, on the party held in honor of Flora MacDonald, the famous highland woman who daringly engineered Bonnie Prince Charlie’s escape at the end of the rising, some 30 years ago.

"Yes!" Brown answered cheerfully. "She is arrested for murdering and witchcraft, we are bringing her here for the trial, and the gallows!"

"Murder, witchcraft, and gallows!" She gasped. "Really? How?"

"Well, long story short, Mr. Fraser was sleeping with a younger called Malva Christie from Fraser's Ridge, and made her pregnant..."

"Oh my, Mr. Fraser, I would have never guessed!"

"That's a lie! Jaime never slept with Malva! The baby was not Jamie's!" Claire cried out urgently.

Clearly more interested in scandals, she ignored Claire. "What happened then?"

Brown made a dramatic gesture of slashing on his own neck, "this wench, well, Mistress Fraser, slit her throat one day! As if that was not enough, she even cut her belly open and took the unborn baby out to kill it!"

"Holy father!" The woman exclaimed and made an exaggerating gesture of fainting.

"No! I didn't kill her! She was already murdered by somebody when I found her." Claire pleaded. "Believe me, please!"

"Are you denying cutting the baby out also?" Brown asked.

"I was only trying to save the baby!" Claire implored.

"Then why did people find you holding a dead baby?"

"The baby was too small to survive. I could not save him, I tried, I just couldn't." Streams of tears ran down Claire's cheeks.

Brown turned to the woman, "See, excuses, excuses and excuses!"

"What kind of person would do such a horrible thing." She looked at Claire in disgust and crossed herself. "May the God deliver justice!"

"You can count on that!" Brown nodded. "And we are here to make sure of it!"

The woman looked up and down Claire's naked body with insatiable interest. Her gaze moved below her hairy sex and landed on the pistol between Claire's thighs. "What is that?"

Brown leaned over in pretended secrecy but spoke in rather loud voice. "It may come as a surprise, but not only is Mistress Fraser a murderess and a witch, she is also a whore!"

"A whore!" The woman took this news with apparently delighted surprise, "How so?"

"You wouldn’t believe it, Mistress, but she came so hard when fucking with that pistol, ummm, sorry for my language, but her squirt splashed me, standing three feet away!"

"Oh my, oh my!" She was both appalled and thrilled with this gossip goldmine. "I would never even think that kind of things are possible!"

"They are rapists! These thugs raped me!" Claire cried.

"I don't think that was rape at all, judging by how much you enjoyed it, I'd say we did you a fine service!" Brown declared.

"Whore! Whore!" The throng roared with laughter and hoot, drowning out Claire's teary plea. Claire was left utterly humiliated, wishing that she could shrank into a hole in the earth, or simply die on the spot. Yet bound and helpless, all she could do was to close her eye, trying in vain to blocked out the insult hurled at her ears, and the rotten cabbages and tomatoes hurled at her body.

The crowd was thickening by the minutes, it appeared that the entire town had poured out on the street. A gleeful festival atmosphere permeated in the air. Everyone was trying to get a glimpse of the gorgeous naked body of this horrendous witch. A few hundred yards away, in an imposing building in the center of the town, a middle-aged man was drawn by the ruckus to his window. He pulled out a monocular to scan through the scene, and his gaze landed on Claire's naked body for a long while. He frowned, before summoning a redcoat to his room. "Captain Webb, please see to that peace and rule of law are not disturbed by this farce."

Brown's group moved through the crowd towards the gaol at the pace of a snail. Over an hour later, they were only a couple of hundreds of yards down the road, in front of the town's main church. The church door flung open and out came a bald middle-aged man in black frock. "I am Father Finn, why is this disgraceful indecency happening right in front of our Lord's house!" He demanded in outrage.

After listening to Brown's accusation and completely ignored Claire's appeal of innocence, he boomed in indignation, "Such unspeakable evil will not go unpunished!". "Yay!" A chorus of agreement rose from the mob. Father Finn raised his hand to silence the crowd. "Look at her!" He pointed a finger at Claire and turned his gaze across the faces of the people around. "This is what a woman working for devil looks like! She will burn in hell forever, after we burn her alive at stake!" He unfastened a whip from his waist, and continued, "But before that, she must pay for the insult to the Lord, appearing in front of his holy house in such an indecent state!" "Flog the witch! Flog the witch!" The mob's excitement reached at a fervent level now and they demanded blood. Apparently satisfied with the effect of his speech, Father Finn turned to Claire, whip in hand. Scared for her life, Claire continued to plead for her innocence. Tom Christie also yelled, "you cannot convict her without a trial!" But nobody paid them any attention. The prospect of seeing this beautiful woman flogged naked on the spot sent jolts of anticipation and excitement through everybody.

"Crack!" The first thrash with Father Finn's full force landed on Claire's protruding breasts, leaving bright red marks. "Awwwww..." Claire wailed in agony. Then a second lash landed on her lower abdomen and her mound. The throng let out a collective cheer at each lash. Very few paid any attention to the yell coming from behind the crowd.

"Bang!" A musket shot rang before Father Finn could lash out the third time. Everybody turned to look. A squad of red coats, led by Captain Webb, had arrived at the scene. Captain Webb said sternly, "This disturbance to peace must stop now! The accused should be transferred to the gaol immediately! Whatever her crime was, it should be for the judges to decide. That is the rule of law!" The mob jeered at them, but the soldiers pushed through and arrived in front of the wagon. Father Finn stared at Captain Webb, "Well, I will make sure that the law is applied to the witch swiftly, with its full fury!" Captain Webb bowed, "I have no objection to that!" Then he turned to Brown: "Get her off the cross and put clothes on her!"

A while later, Claire finally arrived at the gaol, cladded with nothing more than a half-torn shift, hands bound behind her back. She was still shivering with fear, pain, humiliation, and outrage.

A stocky man sat behind the desk, eyeing her disheveled state with open interest. "Hah, the famed witch on a gun barrel has arrived!" He stood up and said with apparent delight. "I am Mr. Johnson, Sheriff Tolliver's assistant. At your service, mistress." He inclined his head slightly, not taking his eyes off Claire's cleavage visible through the shift. "I don’t think I need a introduction of your crime by now. Everybody in town is talking about it. I will send you to the cell in a moment. But I am afraid all prisoners are subjected to a search first, to ensure safety, if I may." He walked around the desk and laid his hand on Claire. Claire tensed but didn't say anything.

He started to pat down Claire, then he grabbed Claire's tits over the shift. "You bastard!" Claire spat at him and stomped firmly on his foot. "Ouch!" He let out a cry of pain and jumped back. Brown's men grabbed Claire and bended her over the desk. "Looks like this bitch kicks!" Mr. Johnson cursed, wiping off the spit. Brown winked at him, "yeah, she is not a meek one. And she bites too, so be careful."

"I warn you, mistress, this kind of unruly behavior won't be tolerated here. And we have plenty of ways to teach you discipline in our dungeon." Mr. Johnson roared.

"Your dungeon?" Brown sounded intrigued. "I would very much like to have a tour of it."

"I believe that can be arranged, Mr. Brown." Mr. Johnson nodded, "with proper procedure." Turning his attention back to Claire, who was pinned to the desk by Brown's men. "Now, let's finish our search first." He lifted the shift to expose Claire's rear end. Claire tried to kick backward, but her legs were caught and restrained by Brown's men as well.

Johnson took a moment to admire Claire's white round arse, and her exposed anus and slit. "Mmmm," he said gravely, "there were cases when inmates hid dangerous things in their cavities, so it is necessary to search there too".

He flexed his index finger and pushed it right into Claire's anus. "Ouch!" Claire jerked and cried out in pain. But Johnson persisted to thrust the finger in and out of her anus, and soon pushed the middle finger in as well. He started to stretch Claire's asshole with both fingers, and pushed a third finger in. Amid Claire's painful whine, he commented with a satisfied smirk to everybody around, "as you can see, she could hide a lot of stuffs in there." This drew another round of lewd laughter from Brown' men and weak indignant protest from Christie. Johnson ran his thumb along Claire's folds. "Not to mention the other, bigger hole. We shall check there in a moment."

Before he could turn his attention to Claire's vagina though, a firm voice came from behind. "I think further inspection should not be necessary, Mr. Johnson. Let's just send the prisoner to her cell." A tall thin man walked in. He shook the hand of Brown. "Sheriff Tolliver, your servant!" He looked up and down Claire with distaste, and asked, "so you are Mistress Fraser?"

"Yes I am. And this is how you treat women here, like barbarians?"

"Well, this is not an inn for you to stay, madam. I suppose it won't be as comfortable. And you are accused of serious crimes, murder and witchcraft I believe." He said sharply, but Claire could sense a hint of uneasiness in his voice.

"I am innocent! I didn't kill anyone, and I am not a witch."

"Well. Every prisoner walked through that door claimed the same thing. It is not for me to judge anyway. You said you weren't a witch. Then what are you?"

"I am a healer. I help people recover from their illnesses and injuries through medicine and surgeries."

"Hmmm, Fraser?" Sheriff Tolliver's eyebrow raised. "Ah, I remembered now, a few years ago a Mrs. Fraser performed surgery on the governor's secretary, well, the previous governor's secretary, on the stage of the theatre. Was that you?"

"In the foyer actually, but yes, that was me."

"Well, so you are a healer indeed." Sheriff Tolliver inclined his head and extended his arm. "This way, mistress, let me show you to your cell."

The cell was small and dim, enclosed on three sides by stone walls, and by iron bars on the other side. A small, barred window seven feet off ground let in the only natural light. A pellet bed occupied one end of the cell; on the other end, a small table with wash basin on top and chamber pot under it, completed the furnishing. A young, small framed and plain looking woman sat on the bed. "You are going to share this cell with Mrs. Ferguson." Sheriff Tolliver opened the gate to let Claire in. Christie tried to pass Claire's medical box to her, but Sheriff Tolliver took the box over. "Only clothing allowed in the cell. I will keep procession of Mistress Fraser's other personal effects in my office."

As Sheriff Tolliver locked the gate, Christie held out a hand to Claire. Claire did not take it. Christie sighed. "I am very sorry for what happened to you Mistress Fraser. But place trust in God! He will deliver the righteous to safety."

Claire said coldly, "so you believe I am righteous? Yet you allowed such unspeakable things done to me? It is hard for me to have trust in anything now."

"I am deeply ashamed that I could not protect you. But I will try my best to make sure that you walk out of here a free woman." He bowed and left.

 

[gjpain]

It would be very interesting to write about Brianna's martyrdom some time soon!

 

[fumetto]

It would be very interesting to write about Brianna's martyrdom some time soon!

Brianna will appear in the course of the story, together with her mother Claire she will have to suffer a lot. But I am always open to suggestions.

 

[gjpain]

But I am always open to suggestions

I'm not sure what you have in mind about Claire, probably she will end up crucified, though I would suggest a painful- humiliating impalement for Brianna to fulfil the second beggest fantasy in here, maybe you can make Claire watch her daughter suffering. Then you can place the bitces to face each other, one crucified and the other staked alive screaming in agony.... well thats just my ideal scenario, I'm curious and waiting for the next chapters of your story!

 

[fumetto]

I'm not sure what you have in mind about Claire, probably she will end up crucified, though I would suggest a painful- humiliating impalement for Brianna to fulfil the second beggest fantasy in here, maybe you can make Claire watch her daughter suffering. Then you can place the bitces to face each other, one crucified and the other staked alive screaming in agony.... well thats just my ideal scenario, I'm curious and waiting for the next chapters of your story!

Thanks for the tips, but that would be a bit too brutal for my personal taste, and I'm supposed to like the story. So impalement or crucifixions leading to death will definitely not be in the story. But Claire and her daughter will have to endure all kinds of cruel abuse and torture, and there will be situations where one has to watch the other. Generally I reject snuff, mutilation and other bloodthirsty fantasies, and prefer the lighter fare, but this is all the more violent, I hope the rest of the story remains interesting for you.

 

[fumetto]

Chapter 4

Claire could hardly catch her breath. She was running in a dark forest, she could hardly see anything, but behind her she could see a dozen or so eyes, glowing green in the blackness. Suddenly she came to a halt, as a huge grey wolf emerged out of nowhere and blocked her path forward. The group of chasing wolves surrounded her, leaving her nowhere to go. The huge wolf gave a toothy grin that reminded her of a certain person, and stood up on its hindlegs, exposing a large, erected penis. It walked up to her and started to shovel the penis to her mouth.

"No!" She woke up, with her heart pounding and her body shaking and sweaty. "Hush, hush, it is OK." A quiet voice came from behind, and a lip lightly touched the back of her neck. A soft hand reached out and settled on her waist tentatively. "It is OK, just a nightmare." Sadie Ferguson whispered in her ear again. Her hand patted Claire lightly on the belly, and slowly moved upward to her round bosoms. "Let me comfort you, I can make you forget."

"No, you can't, and I don't want to either." Claire took Sadie's hand, gently but firmly moved it off her body. The bed they share was small, there was no more than a couple of inches between them, but she moved a bit farther towards the edge. "At least let me hold you. You will sleep better that way." Claire froze for a moment, as the memory of Jamie rushed back to her. In their spacious bedroom, on that feather bed with enough room for four or five people, Jamie always slept holding her tight, often with one of her breasts in his palm. She used to sleep very well in that position indeed.

But she pushed Sadie's hand away, and after a second or two, she reached out, grasped Sadie's hand, and gave it a light squeeze. They fell back to sleep, hands chastely, but firmly, linked.

The next day was uneventful. Sadie and Claire were led to a big room to do laundry for the barrack in town. They got three meals; food was rather stale, but at least they didn't go to sleep feeling hungry. For the first time since separated with Jamie, Claire was not assaulted for a whole day. Yet Claire still tensed up every time she felt the eyes of Mr. Johnson upon her.

It was by the late morning when Johnson came to the laundry room to fetch Claire, saying that she was needed in the office. Sadie gave them a worried look, opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it and turned away.

Johnson led Claire to the main building. Instead of entering the office, he pushed her along the corridor. "Where are we going?" Claire demanded. "You will see in just one moment... and here we are." They reached the end of the corridor. Claire was staring at a dark stone staircase going down. Brown and three of his men emerged from a corner and surrounded her. "No, you can't!" Claire wanted to escape but had nowhere to run. Brown's men dragged her down the staircase, through a heavy metal door that Johnson unlocked, and threw her to the cold, stony floor.

Johnson locked the door behind them and lit the numerous candles on the wall. Claire felt her blood froze in her vein as the flicking candlelight revealed the dark secret of the room. It was a spacious room, with many stone pillars supporting the structure above. There were all sorts of torture instruments, some of them Claire had seen in illustrations about Spanish inquisition. The walls were lined with pincers, spikes, whips, and many other objects, sharp or blunt. Claire could not help shivering as the thoughts of these ominous-looking things touching her skin and flesh creeped into her mind.

Johnson turned to Brown, "So this is the dungeon you wanted to see. I am here to give you folks a tour. And I am really thankful that Mistress Fraser is here so that I can show you exactly how each of these wonderful instruments works. And please undress our good mistress, these instruments work the best on women when they are naked."

All Claire's scream, struggle and curse were in vain. Soon she stood in front of John and Brown, held tightly by two men, with not a thread to cover her white creamy skin, her full and round breasts, her dark curls between the thighs, and the hint of slit just blow the bush.

"First of all," Johnson pointed to the left, "is the bread and butter of any torture chamber, the rack." He instructed Brown's men to tie Claire to it. They spread her arms and legs wide apart and fastened her wrists and ankles securely; her naked body squirmed futilely on the rack like a fish out of water. "The beauty of it is that," Johnson declared, "once you have her tied down to it, you can do all sorts of things to her without difficulties." He stuck two fingers rudely into Claire's vagina, poking and stretching it, drawing curses and gasps of pain from Claire. Ignoring her, Johnson continued, "for example, completing our incomplete cavity search would not be any problem." He withdrew his fingers, examined them critically, "rather dry... emmm, still, smells good", he put the fingers to his nose to take in the slightly tangy aroma. "Well, there are so much more you can do."

Taking a pincer off the wall, Johnson closed in on one of Claire's nipples and twitched. "Awwww!" Claire cried out in pain. "Don't be afraid, mistress, it is not going to be that bad for you, not today." Johnson reassured Claire. Turning to Brown, he said apologetically, "you see, Mr. Brown, in a real interrogation, it would be totally different, I would pull much harder, and I might even put the pincer into fire first to make it red hot. But this is just a tour, and Sheriff Tolliver is an uptight fella, and he forbids any torture of prisoners, unless it was ordered by a judge."
Claire hissed, "then what are you doing to me?"
"Well, mistress, this is just a lighthearted demonstration of these instruments for the benefit of Mr. Brown. I assure you it is nothing comparing to the real thing, which, by the way, you are likely to go through, as a murderess and especially as a witch, unless you confess willingly."

Fear and rage struck Claire hard as this prospect sank in. Still she protested, "Is this what you call fucking justice?! Forced confession through torture?"

"Of course that is justice, otherwise why would any witches like you confess?" Johnson answered reasonably and turned to Brown. "But that will be another day. Anyway, Sheriff Tolliver just doesn't want to see any physically evidences of torturing, so, we cannot really mark her, at least not obviously. So, spikes, nails, needles, can't really do those today." He picked up a spike and poked on one of Claire's breasts, drawing a painful hiss from her. "But there are many more instruments here and I can show you how those work."



Brown's men took Claire off the rack, and under Johnson's instructions, started to bound Claire with a lot of ropes. They first tied Claire's wrists behind her back; then they looped the rope around her upper torso. The rope tightened deeply into the top and bottom of her breasts, forcing them to protrude prominently. Then they weaved the rope in intricate patterns, around her abdomen and buttocks, and down around her legs to her ankles. By the time they were done, poor Claire looked like a carefully wrapped bundle. Johnson looked up and down her tightly bound body with great satisfaction, and declared, "now the fun part!" He laid her on the floor on her stomach, and brought over a bundle of ropes hanging off a pulley fixed on the ceiling. He tied the ends of the ropes to the rope around her breasts, her wrists, her buttocks and her ankles. Then, pulling the other end of the rope over the pulley, he lifted Claire off the ground rather easily. Claire gasped as the ropes dug deeper into her flesh under her own weight. She was suspended horizontally, her breasts hanging, her wrists pulled back up, her ankles wide apart, her sex helplessly exposed. Her muscles were tense from pain and fear; and her body was slick with sweat.

Johnson gave Claire's leg a slight push to make her spin in the air. "Gentlemen, here I present you with, hogtie!" He chuckled. "Mistress Fraser must be the prettiest hog I have ever seen!" He lifted her chin up. Claire gave him a fiery stare and spat at him. Johnson looked her angry face with great interest. "Your mouth looks full and sweet; I wonder how it feels with my cock inside." He began to loosen his pants.

"Well, my cock had been there, actually all of ours", Brown said, motioning towards his men. “It was very nice indeed ... when she cooperated. But I'd be very careful if I were you. This one bites."

"Ah, I see. Then maybe I should seek some safer ways to enjoy your body." Johnson let go her chin and moved to her side. He pinched the dark pink tips of her breasts. Her white, round breast was at the moment squeezed into elliptical shape, and turned alarmingly red as the rope restricted circulation. Johnson gave her nipples a couple of squeezes, and suddenly pulled them down hard. Claire shrieked and her body arched back. Johnson laughed, "oh dear, Mistress Fraser, if you think this is bad, wait until the actual interrogation. You have no idea."

Johnson walked to behind Claire, where her sex was in plain view as the ropes attached to her ankles pulled her legs open. He reached out, combing his fingers through her short dark curls, and moved upward to explorer the complex terrain around her orifice. Claire flinched at his touch. Yet, bound and suspended in mid-air, she was completely powerless. "Such a nice cunt, I so wish I could do something to it with our instruments." He took a whip from the wall and swung at Claire's pussy. Even though he clearly did not apply much force, Claire gasped and convulsed every time the whip connected with her most sensitive flesh.

After a while Johnson stopped and said with some regret, "Well, we have to loosen her bound unfortunately. It wouldn't do if her tits turn purple."

The tour continued as Claire was put on various torture instruments, cage, pillory, wood horse, and many others. Light torture was applied, painful, but not enough to leave clear marks on her.

Seeing Claire's enticing naked body, bound and suspended in so many different positions, tortured in various ways, Brown and his men all had rock solid cock-stand. "I know we can't mark her, but we can fuck her, right?" Brown asked. "We will be gentle; we will leave nothing more than our seeds on her."

"Hmmm, you know, that is not really allowed either...strictly speaking." Johnson said in an uncertain tone.

"Well, I suppose you can find a way to make it work." Brown took out a small bag and handed it over to Johnson, coins clinking inside.

Johnson took a quick peek inside and pocketed it neatly. "OK, there is one more instrument I want to show you, one of my favorites." He motioned the men to drag Claire over to a low wooden platform at far end of the room. On it there were four metal shackles fastened in a straight line. The man forced Claire to bend over on the platform, and secured her ankles and wrists with the shackle. Hopelessly restrained, she was locked into a humiliating position, with her backside high up in the air.

Johnson gave Brown in an exaggerating bow, "I present to you, Mr. Brown, the ass of Mistress Fraser. It is all yours, just at the right height, for your convenience."

Brown could barely wait. He dropped his pants immediately. But Johnson motioned him to pause for a moment. Johnson rubbed his fingers on Claire's exposed anus. "You know, this is the best position to explore her asshole."

"Do you mean buggery?" Brown was surprised. "But ..."

"Sodomy certainly is not limited to men, and when done to a woman there is nothing wrong with it. I can assure you it is a very exquisite experience, much tighter than her cunt." Johnson explained. He pushed two finger into Claire's rectum, and stretched it a few times. "From my experience, I think Mistress Fraser's butt hole has never been visited by a cock, not even by Mr. Fraser's cock. Am I right, mistress?"

Claire cursed him with the foulest language she could think of, but that only drew the chuckles from Johnson and the men around her.

Johnson grabbed Claire's ass cheeks and spread them as far apart as possible, stretching her tiniest hole out. "So, her ass is still a virgin. As my honored guest, Mr. Brown, you have the opportunity to take her anal virginity. What would you say?"

Brown swallowed. "I say why not!" His cock is apparently eager and ready.

Johnson said, "well, better start slowly. She is still very tight there, and your endowment seems quite impressive."

Brown spat on Claire's anus, rubbed it a bit and poked his finger into it. Claire wiggled madly, but a couple of Brown's men clamped down her buttocks to steady her. Brown rubbed some saliva on his own cock and stuck it to her tiny opening. He gave it a few try but her anus refused to open for such a large foreign object. He pushed down his hands on her butt cheeks to spread them out as much as possible, while pressing his glans stubbornly against her orifice. Slowly the opening widened a bit, swallowing the tip of his cock. Yet every push he made was met with stiff resistance, as her anus continued to reject his big cock. After a number of attempts, only half of his glans went into her.

Getting impatient, Brown spat on her anus again, then made one powerful thrust, the resistance finally gave way as her butt hole opened to let his length in. Claire let out a piercing scream as excruciating pain shot through her from the bottom. "You like that, right? Bitch!" Brown grinned hideously. Oblivious of her painful cry, he started to move his big cock inside her rectum, which was filled to the point of bursting. "Mmmm, it is really tight..., you are right, Mr. Johnson... ohh..." The muscle inside her narrow channel convulsed around his shaft and squeezed his glans more tightly than anything he had experienced.

Within a few moments, Brown picked up speed. He pumped into her hard and fast, his balls slapped her perineum repeatedly. "Oh my, oh my, shit... shit..." He stiffened, and slammed one last push deep into her, then spilled himself inside her rectum.

One by one, Brown's men penetrated Claire's anus. Her painful cry gradually settled into a gasping sob. After the last of Brown's men took his turn, Johnson went over to inspect Claire and her backside with interest. She was completely spent, yet, locked into this shameful position, her now bright red butts were still lifted high up, as if inviting more assault. Her ass hole was swollen and visibly stretched bigger. Cum overflew from it, down her quim and her legs. "I have to say, mistress, your ass is a big mess, but I never pass an opportunity to stick it into the ass of a beautiful woman like you." With that Johnson plunged his eager cock into Claire's much ravaged anus.

It was in the mid-afternoon when Claire was led back to her cell and left there alone. She curled into a ball on the bed, shaking all over. She had lost her voice yelling, screaming and cursing, her wrists and ankles sored from bruises, and worst of all, her butt hole had intense burning pain, a constant reminder of the abuse and humiliation that she had just suffered. After a moment, she sat up slowly, and looked around at the items in the cell. There weren't much, but there were somethings that she could work with. If she broke the chamber pot, she could make a blade, and cut open the vein on her wrist. Most people did it the wrong way, a crosscut, blood did not flow out fast enough and would usually clog before the bleeding became lethal. The trick was to make a long cut along the vein, the amount of blood loss from such a wound would certainly be lethal, and she would probably pass out in a couple of minutes. Yet, making such a cut with a blade as dull as a piece of broken earthenware, with a hand as shaky as hers for the moment, was never going to be easy. Then there was the barred window. She could tear her clothes into long piece of strands to make a rope, tie it on the bar to make a noose. It was not going to be an easy death, she would be struggling for many minutes, or longer as her hands and feet might get some grip on the wall in that uncontrollable effort to open her own airway, thus prolonged the agonizing death. But it would probably work, eventually.

While Claire was debating which piece of clothing she should tear up to make sure the rope was as strong as possible, a chirp of a bird broke her train of thoughts. She jerked and looked up to see a little bird singing on the ledge of the small window. A ray of afternoon sun painted the outline of the bird golden. Memory rushed back to her, and she collapsed on the bed, tear running freely down her cheek. Years ago, almost 200 years into the future, in her house in Boston, during that 20-year separation from Jamie, a separation that she was convinced would be eternal at the time, she always pretended that birds singing on her windowsill were carrying secret messages from Jamie. She would close her eyes to listen to their songs, imagining Jamie talking small nonsensible talks to her. That was exactly what she was doing now. She could feel Jamie's voice in her ears, in his tone of talking to a startled mare. She could feel his strong arms around her, rocking her in that comforting rhythm.

At length she stopped crying. She lifted her head and wiped her face dry, her mouth tightened and her chin firm. "I have been through two fucking wars, I lost my daughter, I lost my husbands many times, I had been imprisoned, abused, and raped before. I had gone through all those and, I survived." She said to herself. "I will survive this too. Jamie is out there looking for me, he will get to me, he always does. All I need to do is to stay alive. I will get back to Jamie one day, and Bree, and Jemmy and all the people I love."

She laid on her back, closed her eyes and started to practice her introspection again. It was a relief to "see" that her organs were still in surprisingly good shape, given what she had gone through lately. After a while, she forced her mind to focus her anus and rectum. She could clearly feel the damage done there. She breathed in deeply and started to apply her technique of relaxation. A calmness enveloped and her, and she could see in her mind's eye faint blue glows shooting through her damaged parts. Blue was the color of healing, Master Raymond once told her, decades ago in Paris. After a long while, when she opened her eyes, she felt rejuvenated. While she could still feel a faint throbbing pain in her bottom, it didn't bother her much anymore.

 

[fumetto]

Claires story will be continued at the end of august.

 

[Harsh Martinet]

Claires story will be continued at the end of august.View attachment 1213833

Great illustration!

 

[Harsh Martinet]

Great illustration!

Nothing like a beautiful brunette in peril

 

[fumetto]

Chapter 5

Claire and Sadie's laundry routine returned for the next couple of days. Christie visited her once. She only asked him one question coldly, "Did you hear only thing about Jamie?"

"I am sorry, Mistress Fraser. For all I know, Mr. Fraser was put onboard a ship bound to Scotland. I don't have any more news about him." Christie said apologetically.

Claire turned away, made it clearly that she has no interest in talking anymore. Christie sighed. "There has been unrest in the town. The rebels are getting bolder and the garrison here is having a hard time to control them. The judge had left the town. So, I think it will be a while before there can be a trial. I will stay in town for as long as necessary. Please let me know if there are anything you need, I can bring them in my next visit."

"You can't get me the things I need. Just leave."

"I see. See you in a few days. Please take care."

The next day, while working in the laundry room, Claire could hear faintly screams of a woman. She froze, the dark memory of her own ordeal a few days ago flooded back to her. But the sounds seemed to come from upstairs. "What was that?" She asked Sadie.

"I think it must be Mrs. Tolliver. She had been pregnant for quite some time. I saw her a couple of times a while ago. She must be delivering."

Claire felt her breath became a bit easier. However, as the screams continued into the afternoon then early evening, her relief turned into worry. "She might be in trouble. The labor is lasting very long. Is this her first?"

"No idea." Sadie said. "Don't worry, I am sure the sheriff has gotten her all the help she needs."

Claire was not convinced, but apparently there was nothing she could do.

Sheriff Tolliver came to their cell in the night. He looked tired and worried, but he straightened his back and squared his shoulder before speaking to Claire.

"Mistress Fraser, you are a doctor. Do you know how to deliver a baby?"

"Yes, why?"

"Then you must come with me. It is an order." Sheriff Tolliver made an effort to sound stern and authoritative.

"And what if I don't?" Claire felt anger simmering in her chest. "You will drag me to the dungeon and rape me?" She challenged him.

Sheriff Tolliver was taken aback, and in a moment his stern facade crumbled. "I am terribly sorry for what happened to you, Mistress Fraser. Please, I need your help. My wife and her unborn baby need your help, and they did not do you any harm. The town's doctor had escaped the town, and the midwife is nowhere to be found. You are their only hope now. I am afraid that, that..." His voice caught. "They may both die without you help. Please."

"Sheriff, I am a doctor, I swore an oath to help people in need of medical help and I intend to keep my oath." Claire said solemnly.

Mrs. Tolliver was a young woman in her 20s, but her exhausted face looked much older now. She had been in labor for 12 hours and was fully dilated, but the baby just wasn't coming out. The maid looking after her was equally exhausted and in distress. A quick examination confirmed what Claire had long suspected. The baby was a breech. Back in her hospital, she would not think twice to give Mrs. Tolliver a C-section. But here, in this stuffy room, even with her medical chest at hand, it was not a call that she could make. She did have the ether, so that could take care of the anesthesia. She could certainly do the operation and was quite confident that she could deliver the baby alive. But without proper antibiotics, Mrs. Tolliver's chances of surviving the infection would be slim. Still if things continued the way it was, the only outcome would be a dead mother and a dead baby.

During the brief lull between two contractions, Claire laid the options out for Sheriff Tolliver who was waiting outside the room. He broke down in tears. "Can you save my wife? As long as she survives, even if the baby can’t, it, it is … OK. Please, please save her, I love her."

Claire's heart ached. She reached out and squeezed his hand softly. "I cannot promise you anything, sheriff. It may soon come to a point when I have no other choice than saving the baby, but before that I will try my best."

She went back into the room, washed her hands and wrists with alcohol, and reached into Mrs. Tolliver's vagina. She had tried many times to adjust the baby's position from outside, without success. In this desperate attempt she hoped that she got some luck and be able to find the feet of the baby this way. She closed her eyes in concentration and slowly an image of Mrs. Tolliver's inside started to form in her mind. In a way similar to her own introspection, she could see Mrs. Tolliver's organs and circulation, even though much less clear and stable. Encouraged, she reached a little deeper inside, while placing her other hand on Mrs. Tolliver's belly. She tried to focus her mind's eyes on her womb, and gradually the image of the baby inside the womb started to form.

"Ahhhh..." Mrs. Tolliver screamed as another contraction started. Her channel clamped down on Claire's hand with crushing force. Claire almost cried out in pain herself. Despite this, Claire stayed focused to see inside of Mrs. Tolliver's womb. The picture became clearer in her mind, she could see the baby in the womb, feet down, one of the feet was very close to the cervical opening but stuck in the uterus. Guided by the image Claire tentatively nudged the foot from outside. But it was stuck fast with the pressure from the mother's push.

As the contraction passed, the pressure reduced. Claire gave the foot another nudge and was very glad to see it moved a bit towards the cervical opening. She kept pushing it until the foot lined up with the opening. The next contraction came, and the foot finally slid through the opening into the canal. Claire smiled at the gasping Mrs. Tolliver. "You are doing great darling; I could touch the foot now. It has 5 tiny toes. Another couple of pushes, your baby will be here."

When the next contraction came, Mrs. Tolliver's push was rather weak. Almost completely spent, she lacked the energy required. Claire yelled encouragement to Mrs. Tolliver while pushing from the outside herself. When the contraction eased, both feet of the baby were in the birth canal. Claire felt very much heartened. The danger was far from over yet. Other parts of the baby could get stuck in the uterus, the cord could be squeezed to deprive the baby life sustaining oxygen, the baby could cause injury and hemorrhage, but at least now both the mother and the baby had a good chance to make it through. Claire carefully checked her mental image of the baby inside and was reassured that the tiny arms and hands were tucked nicely under the chin. She gave the baby a few more delicate nudges to ensure it lined up with the birth canal the best it could be. Then another contraction came. "Push!" Claire yelled. "It is almost there! Don't give up now, the feet are out! Another!" Mrs. Tolliver screamed madly as she gave all her strength. Then suddenly, the baby slid out and was caught neatly by Claire.

Claire automatically cut the cord of the baby and held him up to check his breath. He wasn’t. The flashback suddenly hit her, the last time she held a tiny body like this was beside the bloody body of Malva Christie, her throat and belly cut. She had felt the life in that baby too, a tiny glimmer of blue light, which promptly withered and went out forever. She frantically turned the son of Tollivers over to clear his airway. Then she felt it with relief, the blue light in this tiny body. Unlike Malva’s ill-fated baby, today the light was steady and strong.

"Wahhhh..." The loud cry from the baby announced his arrival to this world. Claire's tear broke dam as a wave of emotion washed over her. Relief, and joy, yes, joy. It felt impossible for her after her recent suffering and humiliation, but she realized that, for the very first time since that horrible morning when she discovered Malva's lifeless body, she was truly happy for the moment. The sheer joy of holding life in her hand and watching it strive, allowed her to escape her worry, her suffering, and her misery for a brief moment.

The moment didn't last long. Sheriff Tolliver walked her back to her cell after midnight. At the gate, Sheriff Tolliver bowed deeply to her. "I don't know how to thank you, Mistress Fraser. I owe you a lot. But unfortunately, I cannot just let you go, it is my duty. And I am truly sorry for what was done to you. I promise that you won't be molested anymore before the trial. And I will certainly testify for your character in front of the judge."

"I appreciate that, Sheriff. But I didn't do it for you to return favor. I did it, simply because it was my calling to help people in need, to help people with sickness."

"I understand, and you have my deepest respect for that. Good night."


Sheriff Tolliver was good to his words. Nobody bothered Claire over the next few days. She and Sadie didn't even see Mr. Johnson at all. Their food improved markedly, and they got warm water to wash every day. Sadie was very cheerful, while Claire wasn't really happy, at least she felt much relieved and a sense of calmness slowly returning to her.

--

Jamie was walking slowly towards the ladder leading down the lower deck, followed by a sailor of Mercury. Like the days before, he had finished the day's work on deck and was escorted below for the night. One thing was very different though. He saw land by noon, a long, dark line on the horizon. He asked the sailor what land that was, only get an eye-rolling answer, "don't know, some island I suppose." By dusk he was convinced that was not true. He could not think of any island of such a size on route to Scotland. It had to be mainland. The storm a week or so ago blew them way off course, and by his estimate, to the north. It might be New England, or may be Canada? Anyway, it would be much closer to North Carolina than Scotland was. Much closer to Claire. His mind made up, and he slowed down. The sailor came up and give him a shove, but he caught his arm in one swift move, turned him around and locked both of his arms behind his back. Before the sailor even knew what happened, Jamie had taken his dirk and had it on his throat. "Easy, I won't harm you if you don't do anything stupid. Let us walk slowly to the stern。" At about ten yards to the stern, he let go of the sailor, threw him down to the deck, ran to the stern, climbed over the railing, and leaped into the ocean.

The sailor sat up; his mouth hung open. Finally, he shrugged, "bugger, why should I care if you drown, or get eaten by sharks, or just starve on the land of god knows where. I will just tell the captain that you fell into the ocean by accident and that is it."

--

Claire was lying on the bed in the still of the night. Tears started to roll down her cheek as she had this bad dream again,
she was running again in a dark forest, she could hardly see anything, but behind her she could see a dozen of hungy wolfes riding on horses and chasing her.

Sadie sensed her silent sob and put her arms around her waist. This time, Claire didn't push her away. The tender touch of another human was indeed comforting. Slowly, Sadie's hand moved up and stroke Claire gently. Claire did not stop her. A while later, Claire fell asleep in the warm embrace of Sadie, one of her breasts cupped by Sadie's soft hand.

She saw Jamie in the darkness. He was giving her his mischievous smile, and licked his own lips suggestively. Claire felt her body tightened up in anticipation. He dropped his head onto her body, leaving a moist trail on his way down. His tongue lingered on her bellybutton, then through her bush and down to her quim. "Jamie, oh Jamie!" Claire murmured, her back arched up uncontrollably to meet his tongue.


Claire's eyes slowly opened as she struggled between her dream and reality. She came to the painful realization that Jamie wasn't actually with her. But the sensation from down below did not cease. Her erotic dream was firmly rooted in reality. Sadie paused the work of her tongue when she felt Claire stirring, raised her head with a questioning look at Claire, but her fingers were still busy at work, adeptly massaging Claire's vulva and anus. Claire let out a moan and her head fell back to the pillow. Sadie lowered her head to resume.

Sadie licked Claire hungrily, her tongue started from the anus, up to the slit and ended at the clitoris. She flicked, sucked, and nibbed lightly. To Sadie, Claire was a feast of all sensory. Her aroma was strong; her slightly salty and sour taste was delicious; the music of her moaning, first low as whispers, then gradually louder and urgent, was like the song of siren. But what Sadie loved the most, was her varied textures, the soft short curls, the roughness around her anus, the tender intricacy of her folds, the slippery slickness inside her opening, and her bud of pleasure, protruding and demanding attention. Full attention it got, as Sadie held it between her lips and teased it with her tongue. Claire wiggled and twisted; all her consciousness now seemed to revolve around that point of singularity between her thighs.

Sensing Claire getting close, Sadie's hand joined the action. She slowly inserted one finger into Claire's vagina, and another; then she pushed yet another finger into Claire's anus. Claire shuddered and tried to wiggle away, like a fish on the line; but Sadie was having none of that. She curled her fingers inside Claire and tugged, while her tongue worked on Claire's clitoris at feverish pace. She was not surprised when Claire's leg clamped down on her, and Claire's inside clenched around her fingers, she was expecting those all the time. What startled her was when the liquid hit her. She stared in amazement for a brief moment as Claire's juice shot out like a jet of stream, then gleefully opened her mouth to catch it, taking it all in.

Sadie moved up and held Claire tight, who was still shaking and panting heavily. She kissed Claire gently on the cheek and earlobe as Claire slowly settled down from her climax. "I hope you liked it." Sadie whispered.

"Yes, I do. Thanks," Claire said, still breathless. "I never thought...".

"I know," Sadie smiled.

"Do you wish to... umm," Claire asked, "I have never... it just..."

"Don't worry, I understand," Sadie said. "If you don't mind, just let me guide you."

She gently lifted Claire's shift to remove it, then took off her own shift as well. Two naked bodies entangled as Sadie kiss Claire thoroughly. Their boobs pressed tightly together, and their hairy mounds rubbed against each other. In a moment, Sadie whispered into Claire's ear: "just lay back and enjoy". Claire closed her eyes and waited for her next move.

Sadie sat up. She tenderly opened Claire's legs and put one of her legs in between. Their legs formed a scissor. Sadie trembled a bit as her slit touched Claire's warm and still soaking wet vulvar. Claire let out another moan at this new stimulation to her hyper-sensitive flesh. Sadie started to move her hip slowly, rubbing her sex against Claire's. Soon Sadie's cunt became flooded as well; their slick private parts slid up and down at increasing pace.


At first Claire was just lying there, letting the sensation washing over her. But gradually she started to move her pelvis in sync with Sadie's movement. They pressed tighter and tighter together, as if wishing to enter each other's passage. Their moan and juice mingled as they push each other toward the peak.

Claire went over the edge first. Her head fell back and her back arched up. Her legs tightened around Sadie's with mighty force was she let out a long wail. Feeling fresh warm juice sprayed on her quim, Sadie redoubled her effort in desperate urgency, and climaxed a short moment later. She fell on to Claire in a crushing embrace, limbs intertwined, echoing each other's every jerk and shake.

A long while later, they laid side by side, naked bodies still slick with sweat. "You know, this Jamie of yours," Sadie said quietly, and added as she noticed Claire's widened eyes , "oh, you called out to him many times in your dreams. He is a really lucky man."

 

[fx2021man]

Thanks for the story, Claire has always been my fantasy. When do we see Brianna, when does the pirate Bonnet arrive and will Black Jack also appear in the story?

 

[fumetto]

Thanks for the story, Claire has always been my fantasy. When do we see Brianna, when does the pirate Bonnet arrive and will Black Jack also appear in the story?

Brianna will appear in some months in Chapter 8, 9 or later, also Bonnet, sorry Black Jack has already died at the battle of Culloden, Brianna
will have a very tough time togeather with her mother.

 

[fumetto]

Chapter 6

In the afternoon Sheriff Tolliver brought an officer in red coat into the laundry room to see Claire. Claire's face flamed up as she recognized the officer who was looked up and down at her judiciously. It was Captain Webb, who stopped Father Finn's brutal flogging of her when she first arrived in Wilmington, naked and bound to a cross for display. It was such a humiliating experience for Claire. But Claire managed to compose herself and gave Captain Webb a nod and murmured thanks to him.

Sheriff Tolliver explained to Claire that the army doctor had deserted, and Governor Martin was looking for a doctor to look after his pregnant wife. Having heard that he recommended Claire to the Governor. "You will still be a prisoner awaiting trial, but I am sure the condition at the Governor's palace will be vastly better than your cell. Right, Captain?"

Captain Webb looked suspicious. "What was she accused of? Murder, and witchcraft, if I remember correctly."

"I am innocent." Claire said calmly.

"I assure you that Mistress Fraser is an amazing doctor, most capable. Not only that she saved my wife and son, you will remember the story that a woman performed an surgery on the secretary of the former governor Tryon in the theatre? That was her." Sheriff Tolliver said eagerly. "And from what I can tell, Mistress Fraser has the kindest heart. I seriously doubt the accusations on her."

Captain Webb nodded slowly. "Very well, then let's go."

The carriage took Claire through the streets of Wilmington, her medical chest on her lap. She peeked out on to the largely deserted streets, with frequent sighting of patrolling redcoats. The tension in the air was unmistakable. Claire did not know when Wilmington fell into the hands of the rebel; such details were far beyond her knowledge of the Revolutionary War; but this certainly felt like the eve of some big changes.

The carriage went through a gate as Captain Webb waved past the guards. They stopped in front of a grand building with imposing stone façade. Captain Webb led Claire through the side door, where a huge black man in uniform was waiting. The man was like a mountain, even an inch or two taller than Jamie, and much thicker everywhere.

Captain Webb said to Claire. "Private Evans will be the guard monitoring you. You will have a room to yourself, but it will be locked from outside whenever you are alone. During the day Private Evans will accompany you when you perform your duties. You are not to roam this building by yourself, not to mention to leave the building. Is that clear?" Then he looked at Claire's grubby clothing in disdain. "Private Evans, please take Mistress Fraser to Mrs. Wright for a bath, and change into some decent clothing. Governor Martin will see her in the evening."

The room was surprisingly large, airy, and luxurious. Mrs. Wright left her with a full tub of warm water, fragrant soap, and a full set of clean, fine clothing. Claire undressed slowly in front of the large mirror in the room. The face in the mirror looked tired. She could see a lot more silver on her head than the last time when she looked at herself in a mirror, in her own bedroom in the big house.

Claire took off all her clothes and slid into the tub. The water was warm, with a faint fragrancy of certain herb. Claire gradually relaxed, while wondering absent-mindedly what herb it was.

Slowly she scrubbed herself, enjoying the water on her skin and the feeling of cleaning herself. She felt a warm sensation running through her vein. Her face became rosy, her breath quickened, her nipples hardened and stood up like cherries. In the back of her mind, she felt a bit strange about the arousal.

Did the Sadie somehow open her gate of desire? However, she let that thought go for the moment. Her fingers started to circle her areola and nipple. Her other hand reached down, where a small fire was spreading between her thighs. Her digits moved through her curls and landed on her slit. With two fingers she parted the labia, and her thumb rubbed the clitoris lightly, letting out a quiet moan.

Invisible to her, a small hole on the room's crown molding slid opened silently. Behind the hole, a pair of green eyes was watching her intently.

Private Evans led Claire into a small but lavishly furnished room, where three sets of dinnerware were laid out on the table. Governor Martin walked in, followed by Captain Webb. The governor was a small middle-aged man. He greeted Claire warmly. "Madam, how nice to meet you. Ah, I am glad that my wife's gown looks great on you." Claire smiled faintly and returned the pleasantry, but when her eyes met the green eyes of the governor, a sense of uneasiness gripped her. She got the feeling that he was appraising her as a prey.

"Your Honor," Claire said firmly, "I must declare that I am innocent of all the charges against me. I am a doctor, not a witch; and I certainly did not murder Malva Christie."

"Of course, of course," Governor Martin replied, "but I am not in the position to make the judgement, that is the job of the judge. I do apologize for all the inconveniences; I hope that you can understand I am bound by rules. But otherwise, I really would like to make your stay here as comfortable as possible. And I deeply appreciate that you are here to take care of my wife. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to let Private Evans know. Mrs. Wright will see to that."

The three of them sat down for dinner while Private Evans stood on guard. The food was delicious, the conversation general yet congenial. However, it became more and more uncomfortable for Claire. The arousal she felt while bathing came back inexplicably, slowly at first, then with vengeance. She could feel her own wetness between the thighs and stiffen herself. She closed her two legs tightly together and twisted uneasily, hoping to get some friction to sooth the itches, with little avail. She had to use all her will power to stop the urge to reach down with her fingers again. The Governor and Captain Webb noticed and asked her if she was uncomfortable. She said politely that she was just tired. As soon as the dinner was over, she stood up to excuse herself.

"Of course, of course, it has been a long day for you madam, I am sure. But just one more thing I need to show you." Governor Martin led Claire through the corridor, then up a flight of staircase, into a small reading room. Then with a grin, he pried at the back of a bookcase, and it swung out and revealed a secret door behind. Claire froze, and demanded: "what is this all about?"

"Come in I will show you." Governor Martin said pleasantly. When Claire did not move though, Private Evans pushed her through the door into a windowless yet well-lit room. In the center was a colossal bed, over it a large mirror hanging off the ceiling. Some instruments that Claire couldn't name hung on the walls. A chill ran through Claire's spine. While this bright, colorful and plushily furnished room looked nothing like the grim dark dungeon at the gaol, it somehow reminded her strongly of that place, and what happened there.

"You can call this our playroom." Governor Martin said, still with a big smile on his face.

Claire tried her best to keep her voice steady. "How interesting! But I really must go back to my own chamber now. I, umm, I need to relieve myself."

"Hah, relieve yourself. Do you mean like you did in the bathtub?"

"What?" Claire's face flamed up with incredulity, shame and rage.

"Come and see for yourself." Governor Martin walked over to a wall and slid a small piece of wood panel aside to reveal a small hole on the wall. Through it, Claire could clearly see the bathroom below, with the bathtub squarely in the center of the view.

"You pervert bastard!" Claire was shaking with rage as she connected the dots. "You spiked my food, didn't you?"

"Ah, a little bit aphrodisiac to help the mood can never go amiss, no? You must be soaking wet by now. Mind you, there was quite a bit in the bath water too, worked like a charm. Such an enjoyable show, and this front-row view was deeply appreciated." Governor Martin chuckled.

Claire raised her hand to slap the Governor's disgusting grinning face, but her wrist was caught be Private Evans's iron grip. He lifted her up like she was a tiny little girl and throw her bodily onto the bed. Before she could get up, he pinned her down effortlessly. Captain Webb undressed her with military efficiency. Claire laid there, bare as a newborn, all her struggle stifled by Private Evans with depressing ease, until she finally gave up and stayed still, waiting for the inevitable. Her body was tense, and her arousal didn't die down at all. On the contrary, all the struggle against male bodies only heightened it.

Governor Martin spread her legs to survey his prize. He prodded a finger into her wetness and draw back to savor her taste. "Hmmm, ripe and juicy, like a peach!" He said with appreciation. "Now, let’s start the play properly."

Governor Martin took a jar of ointment with sharp scent, and started to rub it all around Claire's pussy, then he reached inside her passage to apply it internally. Her muscle convulsed instinctively at the contact with the ointment, as it felt ice-cold. However, the sensation changed to warmth soon after, and getting warmer by the minutes. Worse yet, the sense of itchiness grew stronger than ever. Claire struggled but her hands were pinged down by Captain Webb. She tried in vain to close her thighs, but Private Evans held them apart without breaking a sweat.

Satisfied with the amply applied ointment, Governor Martin picked up a feather, and brushed in across Claire's slit. Claire let out whines between laughter and cry. She wiggled and twisted madly trying to get out of the restraint. Her body twitched and jerked. Yet there was no mercy from the men, instead they appear to take great pleasure at the show she was putting on.

"Please, please stop. I can't take it anymore." Claire pleaded through her tears in shaky voice.

"Wrong answer, madam." Governor Martin kept his assault with the feather. "Say what you actually want, then you shall have it."

Claire's final hold to dignity crumbled. "Please, please fuck me, fuck me now!" She wailed. Her eyes shut tightly, tears of humiliation streaming down.

"Ah, now that is a good girl." Governor Martin motioned at Private Evans, who promptly removed his breeches and exposed his dark cock, enormous even in its hanging half soft state. Claire took it into her mouth without a word and sucked urgently. Soon it expanded and filled her mouth with its astonishing size. Claire turned around, spread her legs and raised her buttocks, tilted up her pink, soaking, and wide open orifice to invite it in.

Claire inhaled sharply when he penetrated her. She knew big cock, for fuck’s sake she was used to it; Jaime's was big, really big. She also knew how it compared with others, because she had been, especially recently, penetrated by many different ones. None of them came close to Jaime's, not even Brown's, damn him, his was big, comparing to others, but not near as big. But this black mountain of a man, his was even bigger. She was sure of that, she never felt so full in the past, it was like her vagina was about to burst. Then he moved, pounding her from behind, his thrust powerful and deliberate. Despite Claire's rage and hatred towards everything that was happening to her, her hip moved urgently in tune with him, rolled and grinded against him, taking his cock in deeper, encouraging further assault; to her itchy, hypersensitive, and unconscionable cunt, the ravage was much needed relief. He was not in a hurry apparently. He kept a rhythm, that slowly, but surely pushed her to the edge. Claire bit down her lips for a while not to make a sound. But then she could not hold back anymore and started to moan. Silently first, then louder, and even louder. Evans's huge instrument went in deeper and deeper, and hit direct on her cervix. Pain mingled with pleasure built up in her belly, and spread throughout her entire body, which eventually pushed her over the edge. Her inside convulsed, her toes curled, her thighs thoroughly wet with her juice. And she screamed, and screamed, in seemingly never-ending waves of orgasm.

Finally, the enormous object withdrew from her vagina, still rock solid as it first inserted into her. Then a voice rang in her ear, at first not making any sense at all. Then gradually, as she settled down from the peak, it started to have meaning. "Amazing, madam, that was a show better than any I have seen in this room. Trust me, there had been many." Governor Martin whispered in her ear and licked her earlobe. "Let's try something more exciting, shall we?"

The fog over her mind had not quite lifted, but Claire knew that she had been turned over and was now laying on top of a solid body. The large and warm body seemed to completely wrap around her. The same ointment was generously applied around and inside her anus, again she felt like her rear was iced, then boiled. She was alarmed when the large solid object started to probe at her puckered hole. "No, no, too big..." she protested weakly, which was ignored completely. The object teased, gently, but persistently at her tiny opening, forcing its way, bit by bit, into the orifice, until as last, the glans sank completely inside, drawing a sharp cry of pain from Claire. While it was not the first time now, as Brown, his thugs, and Mr. Johnson, had all explored her rectum already, this time her back channel was filled by a rod so big that it was unfathomable how it could possibly fit. But fit it did, deep inside her narrow passage. And somehow to her incoherent surprise, even though it hurt when it entered her, it stopped hurting soon after. Thanks to the ointment, her rear was now burning with an uncontrollable itchiness, the existence of the large solid hardness inside was actually reassuring. She even wished that the huge rod could start moving inside her to relieve the itchiness.

But that cock stayed immobile. Something else started to assault her instead. A body laid on top of her, in her semiconsciousness she recognized the face of Captain Webb, whose pungent breath went directly into her nose, and his tongue stuck out, demanding to enter her mouth. She shut her mouth tightly and turned away in disgust. He settled for licking and nibbing her earlobe. His cock was now rubbing against her labia, and alarmingly, was trying to squeeze its way into her other opening. She had no control over any part of her body at this point, but with the large object inserted into her anus, there was little room for another penetration into her vagina, even though it was still dripping wet from her climax moments ago. However, as Captain Webb constantly rubbed and probed at her vulva, which was still hypersensitive with ointments applied on it, Claire again feel fresh waves of sensation starting to buildup between her thighs. She could feel the tip of his cook, sliding, poking, looking for a way in. Gradually the resistance weakened, and the tip half sunk into her opening, while the other, much larger rod still buried deeply inside her other, tighter channel, still patiently waiting.

With a determined push, Captain Webb finally entered her fully. She dimly realized that, for the first time in her whole life, she had been penetrated down there by not one, but two men at the same time. But in her fragmented consciousness it hardly made any sense anyway. What mattered was the sensation that they sent between her legs, and spread all over her body. Both cocks were moving now, tentatively at first; then picking up pace, setting a steady pace; then accelerating. Her passages, burning and itchy from the ointment, stretched to their limits, welcomed the movements with fluid generously released. Squeezed between two men, with two cocks moving fiercely inside her, Claire felt like a tiny boat in the ocean amidst a hurricane, pain mingled with pleasure as she completely lost herself in it. Nothing else really mattered anymore, as her brain could not process it, only the primal animalistic reactions counted. She gasped, she moaned, she screamed. Her vagina convulsed around the Captain Web's cock; her rectum took an iron grip over the huge intruding cock of Private Evans. Her body spasmed, her fingers curled into tight fists, and her legs shook like she was electrocuted. Her fluid flow freely from her cunt; every pounding of the two cocks made a splashy sound.

Then, somebody grabbed her hair and turned her head aside, and something pungent was inserted into her mouth. She swallowed and started to suck instinctively but gagged when it shoveled down her throat. The cock withdrew for a brief moment to allow her to catch her breath, then came back with vengeance. Claire was sandwiched between Webb and Evans, with a Governor Martin standing beside. Three cocks moved simultaneously inside every one of her openings, now at fervent paces.

It felt like eternity, or no time at all, Claire could not tell. The cock in her mouth popped first, hot, musky fluid shot deep into her throat and overflew from her mouth. Captain Webb grunted and pulled out from her vagina and shot his seeds on her face and breasts. Lastly, Private Evans pulled out from her ass; his generous load sprayed out in several powerful bursts, landed on her belly, her curly bush, her vulva, her ass, her thighs, everywhere.

Finally, all the male bodies left Claire. She laid in the bed, completely spent, and stared hollowly into the mirror at her own naked body, with white cum smeared all over.