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Advance info, new story: ‘The Witch and the Executioner’

Last autumn, I presented my story 'The last Witch of Bamberg' at this forum, which was based as strictly as possible on historical facts and focused on real people, even if the details of the descriptions naturally came from my imagination.

As an alternative, I would like to introduce you to a pure fantasy story that I wrote a few years ago, but which I have now completely revised. I got the original idea for this new story 'The Witch and the Executioner' from a collection of mostly shorter stories, which were freely accessible on the page Grenzbereich.org, which has unfortunately been discontinued in the meantime. I took parts of the initial situation from the original story 'The witch girl Luisa / Das Hexenmädchen Luisa'. I would like to take this opportunity to express my thanks to the authors of Grenzbereich.org at the time.

It is not entirely by chance that my sad heroine is called ‘Johanne’ in this story; of course I was thinking about Joan of Arc (Jeanne d’Arc, she signed with ‘Johanne’ herself), because the two young women were about the same age. But this is where all the similarities end.

The Witch and the Executioner

The content

Johanne, a pretty, young country woman who is still almost a girl, is accused of being a witch. Although she is innocent, she has strong opponents: The village cop needs her admission to have bewitched him in order to exonerate him from the charge of fornication and adultery. The landlord seeks in her the culprit for the sudden death of his healthy boy and he seeks revenge.

Soon Johanne is defenceless at the mercy of the executioner, who fights an unequal ‘game’ with her and tries to defeat her in his own way through torture. In the worst agony she loses this fight. Her ‘just’ punishments are terribly humiliating and extraordinary cruel...

This is a witch fantasy based on the witch hunts of early modern times in Europe, but without strictly adhering to the historical model. The story is told from the point of view of the executioner and torturer who tries to put himself in his victim's thoughts. He accepts his job, which secures his income, but he makes his own thoughts about it...

Chapter 1 – Prologue

A young woman waits 'impatiently' for her embarrassing questioning to begin. She is accused of being a witch. She insists on her innocence, but the inquisitor and her torturers are determined to wrest a confession from her with great agony. They give her a lot of time to reflect...

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Accused witch is waiting for her torture ... or is it starting with a witch test, the needle pricking?

She's been waiting for more than one hour; she kneels on the hard floor. Her arms are spread wide; her wrists hang from the ceiling on heavy chains. Her skin is flawless and beautiful. She sweats even though the room is cool and she is completely naked. Her upper body has sunk forward; her beautifully rounded, full breasts hang down wonderfully; they are a feast for the eyes, but a provocation for her torturers. She feels tired, but at the same time eaten away by her fear. Again and again her gaze wanders through the torture chamber. She sees pliers, whips, clamps, ropes, long needles and gruesome devices, the meaning of which she can only guess at. A coal fire is glowing before her eyes and she can feel that it gives off much more than just warmth.

Again and again the words of the examining magistrate go through her head: "Confess amicably, girl! Spare yourself the torture. You have to burn at the stake as a witch one way or the other..."

Nobody wants to hear of her innocence or about malicious accusations. Her judgment already seems to be certain: She has committed fornication with the devil, she nourished him with her large breasts, and she wrought evil spells... But she would never get involved with the devil or any monster ... And if she could do magic, she would get out of this dark place and free herself.

She is still clinging to a small spark of hope: Justice would prevail; everything will turn out for the better. It is in the human being to think like this: "Hope dies last."

Suddenly she hears footsteps in the corridors approaching... There are men who speak in coarse voices. Her heart beats loudly, beats up to her neck. She wants to sink into the ground now ... at least go to a toilet ... but still chained she remains kneeling on the hard stones. She has to face the torture now; because she doesn't want to make a false confession ... she is not a witch.

She doesn't know her malicious slanderer. She is defenseless and alone, but she shares her fate with thousands who lived in the wrong place at the wrong time and were exposed to false, even absurd suspicions. But the allegations against women as witches have been confirmed again and again by brutal torture and cruelly extorted confessions ... so they had to be true after all.

In the end she should burn alive at the stake as an appropriate punishment for the horrific 'exceptional crimes' she committed as a witch ... Her sinful body must be destroyed by fire, but she must be purified through pain, as a last resort to save her soul...


Notes: I borrowed Arthur Miller's drama 'The Crucible', which is about the development and course of the Salem witch trials (New England) in 1692, with the idea that the dance of a small group of naked girls in the moonlight triggers the witchcraft madness and witch hunt.
Today it is undisputed that the worsening climate at the beginning of the modern era (Little Ice Age) spurred the witch hunts. After storms, drought, floods and bad harvests, witches were repeatedly searched for as culprits. This aspect is also taken up here in my story.

Chapter 2 – Black Mary or how it all began

They say 'small cause but big effect' and that's how I experienced it when the witch madness and witch hunt began in our county. Until then, this was a quiet stretch of land, where I found my livelihood as an executioner and torturer only with great difficulty. Seldom there was a tramp whom I had to question seriously; or a thief had to be judged with the sword. If I was lucky they caught an adulterous couple who denied all serious sins. That gave me the opportunity for embarrassing interrogations, later for the preparation of the pillory and finally to whip the couple in the market place for punishment.

A few years ago everything suddenly changed when the black Mary and her sister Anna were arrested on charges of being witches. At that time, seven girls were caught dancing naked in the forest by moonlight around a fire and obviously not quite in their senses. They were seized and closely questioned, but some of the girls just slurred... Immediately it went around, this was a witch's dance and the girls had enjoyed magic potions. The town mayor tried to appease the incident and classify it as the prank of cocky girls, but the matter slipped out of his hands. Many people were shocked, the priest, the provost and finally even the bishop interfered.

What happened? The previous summer was cold and rainy, the harvest was poor, crops and grain grew poorly and got rotten in the fields. The prices of bread and other food rose and many people went hungry during the winter. Necessity is inventive, but it also allows people to look for guilty parties ... God couldn't be blamed for it, so it had to be witches. There was also hardship in the surrounding counties, and in the spring the first witches were burned at the stake there.

In our county, too, the call was getting louder to look for evil weather witches and to burn them at the stake. It was precisely at this point in time that the girls had to meet to dance on the first mild spring night by the moonlight, drinking wine and soon be completely naked...

The girls became frightened and their parents pushed them to make statements that exonerated them. Instead, Mary, as the oldest of the group, was accused of being a worshiper of the devil along with her sister Anna and of seducing the younger girls with potions and making them mindless. The two sisters were arrested and repeatedly interrogated. But the two testified that they had bought wine for the group of girls and that soon they were all drunk. At another time they would have got away with it, but now the provost and the bishop demanded that the two sisters be tried as witches ... and they found many supporters with their demand.

I was given the task of embarrassing the two girls of marriageable age, but so far I had no experience with young witches. The only witch I'd tortured until then was an ugly old woman. But she had already confessed when I put the thumbscrews on her. So I went to work optimistically and did not expect much resistance. I should be wrong.

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Seven girls at the witches' dance in the moonlight

I was introduced to Mary with the words: “This is Master Egbert! He will help you to find the way to the truth and to break away from the devil ... even if this can be a very painful path for you."

I liked that I was helping the girl and not just torturing her. But I soon realized that Mary was putting my help to the test and that I had to wrestle with the young woman very seriously. Yes, she required all of my art and creativity as an experienced torturer to defeat her...

Even as a young woman she had something to offer: She was quite slim but still had well- filled breasts; not lush, but nicely rounded. She could certainly please men as well as the devil. Even her sister Anna was a natural beauty, a bit smaller and lighter type, but it with fuller breasts and reddish brown hair.

The mayor of our city, who doubted the allegations, asked me that the 'girls', as he called them, should not be tortured with particular severity, as it was usual with the allegation of witchcraft. He was probably still hoping that he could have the young women only flogged for immoral behavior instead of burning them at the stake.

So I got the assignment to help the sisters find the truth. I should torture them more carefully; nevertheless, the provost and bishop insisted on charges of witchcraft and expected me to force confessions. It was not an easy task, because as easy as it looked at first, the two girls did not want to admit that they were witches.

I prepared myself well and came up with mean and effective torture methods that could not be considered brutal, but in any case did not leave any serious marks on the girls' bodies... I repeatedly asked my younger sister where she was particularly sensitive and what she was would probably feel the most terrible torture without using coarse pliers, burning sulfur or red-hot iron. Fortunately for me, my sister had the ability to develop a malicious imagination, so that we later came up with diabolical ideas to torment the witches with torture ... or should I say, to help them find the truth. But I was not yet prepared for the great resistance that awaited me.

I decided on Anna first. Confronted with the allegations of the younger girls and tortured in a very serious way she confessed only after 10 hours, what we wanted to hear, but it was an uphill struggle. At the strappado I broke at last her will. I pulled her up under the blanket with her arms tied behind the back and left her swinging up and down. What was Anna screaming! But she has confessed not until I additionally hit her with a stick and whip and finally attacked her with a burning torch too.

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Anna is tortured, hung up by her arms, beaten and finally forced to confess

Anna confessed to having ridden out for the witches' Sabbath, but her sister Mary had seduced her and only Mary was a real witch who could brew magic potions. So my struggle began with the elder sister, who now had to load the main blame. Our tough fight was to last for two days and it was demanding everything from both of us.

Despite my painstaking struggle for truth, I avoided me pelting Mary with burning sulfur, or tearing her joints on the rack. I didn't attack her with red-hot irons, or crush her legs in torture boots. For this I locked her in her cell completely immobile, in a stork, which robbed her of sleep and a lot of willpower. During the torture and questioning, I let her ride the wooden horse, which means she had to sit on the pointed edge of a trestle for hours. Nevertheless, she remained obstinate.

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Mary is locked in the stork (scavenger's daughter) at her cell for hours and she has to ride the wooden horse while interrogated – both 'gentle' but yet very cruel methods of torture.

I realized that I had to attack the young witch more viciously and remembered what my sister had told me. Finally I squeezed her tits pretty badly, wedged in a vice between two boards with sharp pens. She was crying and begging to stop, but I kept squeezing until the blood flowed and it hurt me to watch. Even so, she still endured the torture surprisingly bravely. She fought hard against the inevitable admission of being a witch. Already impatiently I pressed hot pot lids on her injured tits, further pierced her breasts with thorns and with hot needles; I poured hot water over her delicate skin. She kept screaming, but she just didn't want to admit to being a witch.

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"You have nice, soft tits, girl, but you are defenseless against this press... I know it hurts and you are in great need... It seems to me that your magic powers are of little use to you in this clamp. You cannot free yourself from your chains either. See, your fight is pointless. Give yourself a push, say you're a witch! Or do I have to keep turning the screw? Think about your poor boobs! It would be your entire fault…"

At first I was unsure of myself and thought to myself that the girl might just have been used as a scapegoat for all kinds of misery. But the longer I fought with her, the more certain I became: Yes, she must be a witch, otherwise she would have given up long ago. This thought, but also the victory that Marie denied me, spurred my zeal. I always realized that she was much tougher than almost any other man I had previously tortured. I just had too little experience with young witches to defeat them quickly and successfully.

In my anger at my weakness and her strength, I attacked her next weak point. I beat her with a bundle of whips between her widely spread legs until her pussy was just raw meat. Then I poured hot wax over it.

Her screams were terrible, but finally she cried: "Yes, yes, I confess... Stop it... I'm a witch!" I didn't give Mary a rest; I pulled her on a ladder and let her hang until she admitted everything what her sister and the other girls had burdened her with.

That was my hard-won triumph over the witch girl and it was at the same time her bitter defeat after so much pain and agony. I finally knew I could defeat witches too. Satisfied, I bought myself some wine and a good meal in an inn. But I had Mary locked up in her cell again; her eyes were blank, she looked exhausted and she kept crying. Suddenly I even felt a little sorry for her, in any case my resentment against her was gone. I had to acknowledge that she was a serious opponent, and that deserved my respect.

The two sisters were burned at the stake together. Anna was granted the grace of being strangled before the fire was lit. Mary, on the other hand, as a 'head witch' (I had wrested this confession from her) was burnt with a glowing iron in her left breast on her way to the stake, before she was chained to a stake with her bare torso to be burned alive. Soon her skirt was burned too and she could be seen naked in the flames.

Once again I felt my tingling triumph and her deep defeat as I burned the glowing iron with the W for witch and devil's whore deep into her soft and sensitive breast. I looked into her begging eyes and heard her pleading not to do so. Yet she knew as well as I that it had to happen. Without hesitation, I pressed hard. Her boob gave way, it hissed, smoke rose, I smelled grilled meat. Then I heard her scream and pulled back the branding iron.

Even when her breast was branded, the young witch's screams were horrific, but later in the fire of the pyre Mary screamed so horribly that some spectators ran away. We were all not used to hear screaming like that at the time. But many people said, “Only a witch can scream like that!” Fortunately for her and for us, the smoke soon suffocated the girl.

I had made good money with the two witch sisters: 3 days of torture, adding branding irons and pyre, this all with a lot of preparation time and extra bonuses for new tools and my particularly difficult work. Today I have great respect for Mary, who so bravely fought against my torture and defeat. Precisely because she demanded so much from me and because she and Anna were the first young witches I defeated.

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Witches burn at the stake

The matter was not without consequences: with every storm, with accidents, with diseases of animals and humans, with children who were stillborn or mothers who died in childbed ... everywhere, people suddenly saw witch work and there were increasing anonymous ads. Mary and her sister Anna suddenly shaped the new image of the witch: They weren't old and ugly … no, they were more mysterious, young and beautiful.

Suspicion was often caused by little abnormalities such as dark spots, pointed or too lush breasts in young women who had not yet nursed children, but who were said to be involved with the devil. Especially young widows were frequently accused, because if the man died so early, the devil was in the game because he wanted the witch on its own.

The bishop even offered a bonus for all witches who were discovered and convicted through appropriate evidence. The advertisements soon came together in so frightening numbers that there was great fear. Indeed, busty girls and young widows in particular had to worry because they were accused of witchcraft in large numbers. Although many of the ads were not followed, the witch fires soon burned across the county. I found the opportunity to refine my torture techniques on the mostly young women.

The bishop soon found himself compelled to rein in the hut of witches so that things didn't get completely out of hand. Bonuses for ads against witches were quickly abolished and suddenly it was said that most witches were wiped out, thank God, but we should continue to remain vigilant. But there were still accidents and a lot of misfortune ... so there were also ads against alleged witches, but the number decreased.

I got a lot of work and at the same time I had a good income, finally I could live in prosperity. Together with the sister I devised very special torture tools for witches, or I modified devices that were already common. Slings with weights and thorns; clamps with teeth; clips with inserted needle tips; hot pot lids that were domed – a perfect fitting for witches' breasts; pliers with sharp tongues on their mouths; or I used surfaces for sitting and kneeling added with nails and sharp wedges... Everything that hurt at particularly sensitive body parts, could find use.

The witch burn dragged on for almost two years. After repeated discussions between the bishop, mayor and the sovereign, the witch hunt was finally stopped. It was announced that the witches had been completely exterminated. Anyone who still wanted to display a woman for witchcraft had to show very precise evidence and pay an 'advance payment' for the costs of the investigation. Almost all interest waned and many people became tired of the witch hunt, which had caused a lot of unrest.

For me as an executioner, however, suddenly there was hardly any work left. I had to deal with tramps and thieves again. Only occasionally did I come across pretty and young women as denying adulterers who came under torture, but mostly they confessed much faster than I would like; then the only task left for me was to whip her publicly. Unfortunately, I only saw the bare back of the sinner, which was covering with welts and slowly turned bloody. While the audience could also watch how she pressed her soft breasts against the whipping post in pain and distress.

I was worried because, as an executioner without the witch hunt, I would not be able to continue my prosperous life much longer. But I also wondered what the bishop or mayor would tell the people when the next storm hit, when there was another cold, wet summer and hardly anything to eat? But the next two summers stayed friendly. At least I had my peace and quiet and lived on savings, which I ultimately owed to black Mary and the witches' dance of the seven drunken girls...
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Note: In the last chapter we met the executioner, they call Master Egbert. He is the narrator and one of the two main characters of this story. Here in the third chapter we meet Johanne for the first time; she embodies the second central person. We will follow the fate of this heroine to her tragic end in the further course of the story.

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Johanne as she could be, in carefree days...

Chapter 3 – Johanne

I was looking forward to what was waiting for me in the dungeon. A young woman had been sitting there for a few days. She should be tried as a witch. I hadn't noticed much until they sent the village cop to me and let me know that I should be ready for an embarrassing questioning and had to prepare everything. That was not at all inconvenient for me, because I urgently needed money and they paid well for carrying out a witch ordeal. I was also in the mood for some serious torture.

Someone who confessed just after I tightened thumbscrews at his fingers was a weakling in my eyes. But accused witches were mostly serious opponents; they were strong-willed and stubborn. I loved fighting unruly young witches under torture - the more difficult my victory, the more valuable it was, and the more delicious I felt their defeat - but how long had I missed this?

She was almost a girl, just 19 years old, about the same age as black Marie back then ... and she was a pretty, buxom thing too. That made wonderful feelings and memories arose in me. There was hard work waiting for me - she certainly didn't want to confess and burn at the stake - but I would have fun doing it as well.

During the years of the witch hunt, I had acquired as Master Egbert a good reputation for torturing girls and women very effectively, because almost always I got them to confessions in one or two days, although I refrained from particularly brutal torture methods. That had developed into a special challenge for me, even if nobody asked me to do so later.

Of course, after such a long break, I was extremely pleased with my new assignment. In the meantime, our cautious mayor had retired and had been replaced by a councilor with poor characters whom I had only briefly known. Johanne, as her name was, was accused of witchcraft. She was a thorn in the side of an influential land lord as well as a village cop.

Johanne should have actually bewitched the village cop. As a result, he became mad about love and attacked the girl, so it was said... His wife caught them both after she was called by an attentive maid. Johanna had brought the family crops, but there were two glasses of wine on the table, the girl's blouse was torn wide, the cop had thrown himself on the girl, he was obviously about to rape the buxom maiden, he was just coming to his climax and flooded the girl's lap as his wife stepped in. Nothing could be hidden or glossed over.

Soon the whole place was talking about the incident. The new mayor asked the cop to clarify the incident publicly. Now the harried man is said to have discussed the matter with the land lord. The two men were good friends and after this conversation the village cop accused Johanne of having bewitched him with a magic potion, he reported the peasant girl as a witch.

She is said to have given him the witch's potion, not only to beguile him. Through her magic she wanted to get him to poison his wife so that he could marry Johanne instead of her. That was an extraordinary accusation. The girl was hastily arrested.

She was interrogated several times, but Johanne denied all allegations. Good coaxing and even threats didn't helped. She insisted that the village cop had urged her to drink the wine, that he then tore her shirt and attacked her, that she defended herself as best she could, but that he twisted her arm very painfully and began to rape her.

Ultimately, the councilors discussed with the judge whether the torture should be used against Johanne. First the majority was against it, just because they were not sure who was lying, the village cop or the girl. The maid's statement also spoke for the girl, and there were concerns about starting witch trials again.

The cop got into bad trouble; he was facing charges of rape, false accusations, and perjury. But then the land lord intervened. He accused Johanne to be a witch too. He claimed her of having bewitched his healthy born boy, whereupon the boy suddenly died, although the doctors could not find a cause. But Johanne repeatedly brought his wife fruits during and after the pregnancy. He asserted the malicious girl had bewitched the fruits or she killed the boy with her evil eye.

Faced with such grave allegations from two distinguished personalities, charges were brought against Johanne, who continued to deny everything. My work could and must begin. After a long pause, I was up fighting against a young witch again.

I was up early. My tools were ready to hand in the torture chamber and I started a fire in the fireplace. The Land lord had advised me not to forget any of my instruments, because Johanne should be tortured with all severity. His whole resentment was directed at the girl who should have brought his newly born, healthy son to death through her witchcraft. I advised not to act against them with the utmost severity, because my experience told me that it was better to slowly but steadily increase the victim's agony. So there is no end in horror, but horror without end, until she got weaker and weaker, finally gave up and confessed.

For me every confession of a witch was not only a victory over the wicked girl but also over the devil inside her. After hard torture work and fighting, it was wonderful to hear it from her mouth: "Yes, I confess, I’m a witch!"

I decided to pay the delinquent a visit before the judges arrived. She was a very pretty, well-built peasant girl. She certainly hadn't suffered serious hunger and had developed well as a young woman. Her plump breasts thrust out under her thin shirt with force; the nipples hardened in the cool air of her cell stand out nicely and clearly.

I fell in love with her the first time I visited her in the dungeon cell. Of course, that wouldn't stop me from torturing Johanne as an accused witch to the point of confession and I would certainly torture her exciting tits without pity. No restrictions were placed on me, but I decided to exercise restraint with this witch girl too, even if no one asked me to do so after the old mayor was no longer in charge. I just had to realize what my job was and that she was a witch and not a cute girl.

I thought about the last young witch ... that was a long time ago... Instead of attacking her gorgeous plump tits with the pliers, I could rather prick them with needles, beat them with whips, straps and boards, tie her tits with ropes, and attack them with clamps and squeezing tools… Yes, that would definitely give us both a lot of pleasure! ... For me the lustful joy, for her more the painful nature ... I would wrestle honestly with the girl and in the end defeat her, just like black Marie years ago.

On my way to her dungeon cell, I began to hear noises. They came from exactly the cell in which Johanne was. The first thought that struck me was of the devil. Should he visit the witch girl to give her consolation before the torture, to make her insensitive to all torment? Clairaudiently I crept carefully to the dungeon door. It stood ajar.

As I listened, I heard threatening words, then a loud ‘no, please not’. It were the voices of a man and the girl. I stuck my head out to peer through the crack. What I saw surprised me. It was not the incarnate devil that I saw! The land lord leaned over the girl and pressed her. Johanne was widely spread out and naked on the straw. She had been tied up and bound; her shirt lay beside her in the straw. How was that possible?

The land lord must have bribed the guards with a considerable amount of money to open him the cell door and to prepare Johanne completely defenseless for her surrender. I felt very angry, how could these guards dare to do such a thing without my consent?

For a moment I felt the desire to intervene to put a quick end to this rampant hustle and bustle here in 'my dungeon', but then I decided differently and watched the event in the pale light of two torches that were lit on the wall.

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Johanne is locked in her cell and helplessly spread out for shameful abuse

Johanne tried to withdraw from the man, but she was helpless at the mercy of him. The Land lord tore at her hair and pressed a scrap of cloth into her mouth. She moved her head frantically and he struggled to put the gag inside her mouth, but he finally succeeded. The man's intrusive hands immediately began to feel, squeeze and knead her full breasts. A little later he pushed himself powerfully between her thighs and began to rape the young woman.

Grunting like a boar, he thrust ruthlessly into her lap. With wide eyes she stared into space while the guy brutally assaulted her. Soon the Land lord's groans began to change, his thrusts became calmer, his body straightened up and his hands clenched into the girl's tits.

It was getting dangerous for me. If the land lord noticed that I was watching him go about his horrible activities, I would be a serious danger to him and that would certainly not be good for me...

I withdrew from the door without a sound. While I quietly disappeared, the land lord was striving towards his climax; his muffled groaning could be heard in the hallways. I quickly went back to my torture chamber. There I exercised patience and waited until the aldermen and his clerk arrived.

During this time, jealousy began to gnaw on me. What occurred to the land lord to take away my privilege over the body of the young witch? It was I who was allowed to abuse her - at least that's what I thought. If it were known what he had just been up to, his reputation would be ruined. Not only that, the seriousness of his allegations would also be called into question. He could hardly excuse himself hypocritically and claim that the effect of the spell with which the witch had cast on him is still having an effect and that she had driven him into her dungeon cell without will and had previously bribed the guards…

On the other hand, as the injured party, the land lord even had the right to abuse the witch girl, so to speak as compensation... He could claim his right to her 'thigh debt'. But he shouldn't have simply force her pussy services and rape her; he should have obtained his right from the judge.

I wondered why the respected and influential man took such a risk just to rape a beautiful but dirty witch girl in her gloomy cell. Surely he could have bought three whores for the bribe he gave the guards. No, there had to be a plan, an intention behind what he was doing ... an evil intention.

For a moment I felt sorry for the girl. It must have been a terrible humiliation for Johanne that she was abused by the two men who wanted to make her a witch and put her at the stake. Was this part of the land lord's revenge on Johanne?

I had doubts about the allegations made by the land lord and the village cop. They were looking for someone guilty of their own misfortune or wrongdoing and they wanted to punish this poor girl terribly. But I had a clear job to do as an executioner ... I wasn't a judge or a prosecutor for the girl, I was her torturer now. Actually, I didn't care about the witch's or the sinner's guilt. It was about to make her confess...

Then it occurred to me that there were opinions that it was appropriate to rape an accused witch in her cell or during the torture. On the one hand she had already lost all of her honor by the serious allegations; on the other hand it was proved that desecrations could weaken the witch's will so that rapes were a perfectly permissible part of a witch torture. Whether you were raping her or attacking her pussy and breasts with the pliers, it really didn't make much difference ... but it only was my job!

As a reaction to my frustration at not having a chance with Johanna now, I felt the desire for cruelty in me. I was allowed everything; I didn't have to impose any restrictions on myself - why should I do it? In any case, I wanted to torment the sinful body of the wicked girl according to all the rules of my art of torture. Let's see how the little witch will like it when I not only smash stick by stick on her beautifully rounded bottom, but also let the tough leather strap rage between her wide open thighs ... when I hit her soft tits until they jumped wildly with joy ... when hot needles get pricked deep into her big boobs...

Poor little witch, first you are raped by your slanderer and then I let my frustration on you… But as an accused witch, Johanna had to reckon with any meanness. Witchcraft was an exceptional crime, even the well-founded suspicion was enough and she had lost all her rights, there was no assistance, protection or fairness ... on the contrary, everything was allowed, every means was right to elicit a confession from her! For now, however, I just wanted to play a bit with Johanne, I wanted to stir up her fears, get to know her behavior ... Oh yes, this anticipation!

Suddenly there were footsteps in the hallway, then a voice. The aldermen and the clerk came. Now it would finally start, but they told me not to lead the girl straight into the torture chamber, there would still be visitors.

I found Johanne in her cell again in her shirt and untied, only one foot was chained to the wall ... The land lord's visit was almost well covered up... But on closer inspection I saw his tracks: tears on her cheeks, red prints of his hands on hers breasts and between her legs, the girl's pussy was visibly leaked.

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Johanne as you can imagine her in person...


Chapter 4 – Presented to the councilors

When I went into the dungeon cell to get Johanne, she didn't even look up at me. Even when I untied her from the chain and tied her hands behind her back, she was completely absent. It was only when I pushed her outside through the door that she awoke from her stupor. For a moment it even seemed as if she wanted to withdraw from me. However, my determination did not allow any resistance.

She started to sob.

"Please, I haven't done anything."

I dragged her roughly with me.

"You've done nothing? I'll get the truth out of you. So don't bother to lie to me!"

Indignation aroused in her.

“Nobody wants to hear the truth. I am supposed to be a witch only because the land lord and the village cop want it that way after they both have raped me."

I shrugged my shoulders.

“I don't care what kind of argument you have with the land lord and the village cop. You should confess to be a witch, I'll be paid for your confession and I'll take surely care of that."

But first, at the order of the lay judge, I led her into a bright and large, octagonal room in the tower above the rather gloomy torture chamber.

The judge, the alderman and the clerk looked up from their papers. I led Johanne to the table behind which they were sitting. The clerk looked her up and down carefully, while the judge began to nod meaningfully.

"Well, Johanne, do you know why you are standing here today?"

She looked down and said nothing.

He frowned.

"Well, I suppose you don't plan on talking to me much here. That's why I don't want to waste a lot of words. I just want to tell you the essentials. As you know, you are accused of witchcraft, this is an extremely serious crime. For this reason you will have to face a witch examination here today... Depending on the result we will come to, it is quite possible that I will have to hand you over to Master Egbert for torture ... if you do not confess amicably. If you don't want to be exhibited as a suspicious witch, embarrassedly examined and not tortured, then I'll give you the opportunity to confess now amicably. "

Hardly noticeably she shook her head. “I'm not a witch, I'm not to blame. It was the cop and the land lord, they attacked and raped me."

"You are getting bolder and more vicious, witch girl, after our honorable village cop you now also want to accuse the land lord of evil deeds."

I knew she was right, but I said nothing. I was the one who was supposed to torture her and not to judge the girl. The gentlemen gave me work and wages; there was no reason to interfere.

The judge rose, “Then let's begin your shameful examination. I would have wanted to spare you that too; because for that you have to be completely naked... We need as many witnesses as possible if we are looking for witch marks on your body. But if you are unreasonable... Call the councilors, I have asked them to be ready!"

Johanne was startled and literally froze. The clerk left the room to fetch the city council representatives who were waiting. Obviously her stubbornness had been expected and I was pleased with her behavior. I was allowed to take off the girl's clothes and examine her body all over the place. Obviously, most of the councilors did not want to miss this spectacle.

"You have beautiful blue eyes, girl, a mouth to kiss and beautiful blonde hair – you should comb them a little," I said to her. "Nevertheless, you are accused of being a witch and that's why I am your torturer and this task I will comply very seriously now... That's why I particularly like your eyes now, when they are full of fear and uncertainty... I’m curious how I will like your eyes when you have to undress in front of so many men...

At first she looked at me hopefully, because of my compliments; but then more and more anxiously. I hurried to scare her further. “I'm even more looking forward to freeing your plump tits from your shirt. When I look at you like that, I am sure that your boobs will be a feast for the eyes for me and the gentlemen assembled... And most certainly your tits will be the culmination of the torture that awaits you."

I was already enjoying the fear and shame in her eyes at my words.

"Do you understand why you have to be completely naked now and under torture?" I ask her. Reluctantly she shook her head.

“I want to explain it to you. The first thing I will do is look for witch marks all over your body in front of the assembled city council, even where you can usually hide them well. The men will then form their own judgment and then probably go again to drink their deserved beer. But I will take you to the torture chamber... I will have to attack you all over your body with my torture, especially where you are most sensitive, if you do not confess amicably."

I looked at Johanne sternly. "Do you now understand why you have to be completely naked at the witch examination and torture?" The girl nodded in fear and was visibly shocked. Yes, I liked her that way.

We could already hear a jumble of words and footsteps in the hallway. The door opened and the clerk entered the room with nine councilors.

"Thirteen pairs of eyes, what an honor for you, witch girl, because 13 is a witch's number," the judge stated with satisfaction. "Stand in the middle of the room and strip naked in front of us so that we can examine you," he ordered her sternly.

Johanne visibly caught her breath, surrounded by me as the hangman and twelve other, mostly older men, she was supposed to be completely naked as a girl and let herself be looked at.

I pushed her from the edge into the middle of the room, the clerk sat down next to the judge and alderman, while the nine councilors spread out around the girl. She may have felt surrounded and trapped. Johanne stood petrified. All eyes rested on her and tense calm filled the room.

"Now show us your whole body, you have to prove that you have nothing to hide from us!" The judge admonished.

“Shall I rip her clothes off? They're not of great value anyway!” I asked.

The judge looked at the girl again sternly. "Should he do it, or will you do it voluntarily?" I have to take any resistance as an indication of your guilt!"

She took a deep breath, pressed her lips together, and nodded convulsively. "I'll do it," she finally managed to get out of the tense silence of her observers.

“Look at me and ignore the other men. Before God we are all naked and if you do not want to confess, it is your duty to submit yourself naked to the witch test and, if necessary, to torture,” said the judge.

Johanne still hesitated. I saw her struggle with herself.

"Come on, girl, put the scraps down! Show us your whole beauty" I told her. "The gentlemen have come to see you naked; we don't want to keep them waiting long."

To my surprise, she gave herself a jerk, grabbed the straps of her bodice and pulled them open.

In fact, she began to undress. Very few girls I had seen delinquent did it themselves.

She handed me her bodice, then with trembling hands she pulled the cord of her skirt and let it slide down. She took the brooches from her shirt, hesitated for a moment, and took off her skirt. The girl stood there only in her long undershirt.

She looked pleadingly at the judge. A strict "Come on, take it all off! The sooner you get it over with the better."

Finally she obeyed. With a downcast look and a flush of shame, Johanne grasped the material at her knees and pulled her shirt off over her head. The dark blonde wool on the triangle of her pubic came to light, her well-rounded bottom, her navel, then her plump tits jumped out from under the fabric almost like torpedoes.

The men acknowledged this longed-for moment with a clearly audible “Oho!” Johanne immediately tried to cover her shame and boobs with arms and hands.

"Now show us your beautiful tits and your pussy too. We have to check whether you offered your breasts to the devil or even your lap ... because he leaves his mark."

I pulled her left hand from her breasts behind her head and she let it happen without resistance. Then I pulled the right hand off her pussy as well. "Put your hands behind your head and pull your elbows far back so that you can present your beautiful tits to the gentlemen!" Again she reluctantly obeyed and kept her eyes lowered in shame.

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Johanne has to bare herself in front of the councilors

“That's right, close your hands tightly behind your head and hold them like that no matter what. Each of the men present here has the duty to examine you thoroughly and he has the right to touch you on your body wherever he thinks it is necessary. You have to put up with that and you should look everyone in the eye if he asks,” the judge ordered her. "And now turn around very slowly! After that Master Egbert will begin your examination."11

My gaze wandered over her wonderful body. I liked what I saw. It was almost a shame to torture this beautiful girl, let alone burn her at the stake. Her pretty face had a wide mouth, and her blue eyes betrayed fear, shame, and insecurity. Her blonde hair was somewhat disordered and formed a nice wave on the back of her neck. I loved her open hair and it wasn't too long so that I didn't have to tie it up. The only thing that worried me was the thick wool on her pussy, which had to be gone for a proper check.

Her breasts protruded beautifully and excitingly, they were exceptionally well developed for her age. Without question, it would be a pleasure to knead and shape the tits with strong male hands or to see how they jump while running or even under the whip. Her teats and the wide areolas around them were pink. I loved a nice brown, but that didn't matter. The cool air stream tightened the skin of her breasts and made them a little rounder and firmer, crowned by small buds that hardened quickly. She had a well-rounded ass and bulging thighs. The little one was a really pretty, seductive thing. It had to be really hard to resist her charms.

The judge warned Johanne once more sternly, then the girl slowly began to turn, her eyes down, under the lustful gazes of her audience.

“Look at us!” The judge demanded without pity.

And so she slowly turned again and again on the spot and looked through her observer with petrified eyes.

"Should I search her for signs of her witchcraft?" I finally asked. The judge nodded and Johanne stopped.

"Spread your thighs two ells, leave your hands where they are ... then stop as if you were rooted to the ground!" I demanded.

Reluctantly, she took her legs apart.

"Is that two ells?" I hissed at her harshly.

Johanne winced and promptly obeyed. She quickly spread her legs a whole step, that was even more than I asked for.

I went behind Johanne and started looking for suspicious stains on her back, buttocks and the back of her thighs. Her skin was delicate and evenly beautiful, there were only a few and only very small spots. I ran my fingers over her skin. I didn't just want to see her body, no, I wanted to feel it too. I didn't find anything special on her back, just a small, brown spot on her bum. It was just a mole, sure, but the clerk carefully noted it down.

I took my time; I gently cupped the girl's buttocks with my hands, pressed them lightly and pushed her cheeks apart. A really cheeky, firm girl's bottom, ready to be chastised with a cane or with a hard hand. It's just a shame that the land lord's cock had already raged between her thighs ... and the cop before that too.

But now it was time to look at the front. My gaze quickly found the way to her breasts, which I immediately touched. She had really gorgeous, bulging boobs. They were soft and firm at the same time, suitable for punishing them with whips and thongs, and even for misusing them as pincushions. I thought about how the little witch would squeak?

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Exhibition and examination of an accused witch

Johanne was visibly uncomfortable with my checking. But my searching hands could not find anything suspicious apart from the provocative fullness of her tits ... the shape and size of her breasts were a noticeable feature of this little girl. But I had to find a sign from the devil to make sure the charge was justified.

I put my middle finger over her left areola, just under her nipple, and slowly dug it deeper and deeper into her soft breast with circular movements until I felt her rib bones. Johanne breathed deeply and moaned softly, it visibly hurt her and I had already found a weak point in her for her later torture. Then I poked my finger in her right breast.

I forced myself to let go of her plump tits, wandered down over her flawless, beautiful, soft belly down to her pubic area. I slowly ran my finger through her frizzy pubic hair and noticed how Johanne was breathing deeper. I had to get on my knees and could smell her abused pussy, which I didn't like.

Then suddenly I winced with excitement. There it was, the spot we were looking for! It was hidden in her pubic hair and therefore it was highly suspect.

"Here is a witch's mark, a sign of the devil!" I shouted, "Under the roots of her pubic hair ... we have to shave it!"

Johanne winced at my words, but the judge and the other gentlemen pushed closer to the girl to see the unmistakable sign with their own eyes. I carefully pulled her pubic hair apart to reveal the small but dark spot.

“For true, that's interesting and very suspicious! A dark spot at this point ... If that's not a witch's mark,” commented the judge. "What do the gentlemen think?" There was immediate broad agreement.

The men huddled by my side and took the opportunity to get a close look at the naked girl.

The spot was rather small and yet noticeable on her fair skin, hidden in her pubic hair.

"A stigma diaboli ... at her shame – she has been marked by the evil at the place of her sin!" I exclaimed. "Should I prick her with the needle or do we want to wait for the barber?"

“Witch pricking with needles makes sense with older women, but girls like her bleed everywhere. The stain in the well-hidden place is proof enough! She gave herself to the devil,” said the judge with obvious relief. But it seemed to me, that he didn't want to take any risk with the needle and a bleeding wound.

“Let's send for the barber… But gentlemen, in the meantime please check with your own eyes and fingers what we have found. You can look at the witch girl and touch her anywhere to get an impression,” the judge decided after a brief consultation with the alderman.


Chapter 5 – A shameful Examination

For Johanne a particularly embarrassing and unpleasant procedure began. I wrapped a rope around her wrists to hold the hands behind her head at the neck. I tied a spreader bar three feet long between her feet so that she could neither flee nor escape the grip of intrusive male hands on her most delicate body parts.

Each of the nine councilors began to look closely at the girl and touched her. They shaped her breasts, cheekily pinched her bottom; they ran their fingers through her pubic hair, looked for the little mole and touched it in order to check the mark of the devil; they slid their fingers deep into the crevice of her pussy, only to shrink back when they felt the wetness that the land lord had left there. Sometimes cursing, they withdrew to make way for the next one.

I saw how Johanne suffered. Everyone grabbed her boobs, which were hurting her long before the men finished their exams. And it was even more embarrassing for the girl when they examined her pussy with intrusive fingers. Soon I saw red spots where they had pinched her buttocks and I saw fingerprints on their tits. And certainly some meanness was whispered in her ear what I couldn't understand.

Then I saw a councilor pushing two fingers deep into the girl's lap, but when he felt the wet brew of the girl's abuse on his fingers, he quickly withdrew his hand. "Fucking witch whore!" He scolded loudly.

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A dark spot on Johanne's pubic hill is said to be the mark of the devil.

When all the councilors had finally examined the girl's body in detail, the judge said: “So, we come to the decision now, gentlemen. All those who felt the work of evil when touching the suspicious witch's body, but especially on the dark patch in her pubic hair, may touch the Lord's cross and then step on my left side... But if you had the impression you saw and felt just a normal mole as a dark spot in the girl's pubic hair – that mean you think this girl only carries the usual sins inside her body, as we all do – then please step to my right side... If you are ultimately unsure, put yourself in the middle."

The mayor, who was among the councilors, made a quick decision; he stepped on the left without hesitation. Others followed, noticeably unsteady, but they all finally stood on the judge's left side. Only the youngest among the councilors wanted to line up on the right, but then decided to go in the middle.

"And you, Mr. Konrad?" The clerk got up, hurried to step up to the girl, nervously searched for the stain over her pubic area with his fingers, then touched Johanne's breasts and nipples almost reverently and finally went a little uncertainly to the judge's left with the words: " Yeah, I think she's drawn."

“What's your opinion, Master Egbert?” I didn't want to interfere in the decision of the city council. "If you allow, Your Honor, it is not my job to decide and judge here ... My job is to accompany the delinquent on her way to the truth and to urge her very seriously to confess if she's guilty." “Yes, of course, you do your job and we do ours,” the judge apologized.

Immediately the indecisive, young councilor hastened to explain himself: "When I feel the girl's breasts, they are soft and beautiful ... But her tits are a little creepy to me ... I mean, how they push towards me ... But for that the accused not yet must be a witch..." "And the dark spot in question?" "Well, I'm not sure... I couldn't feel the devil at all... What I felt was a magical seduction that emanates from this beautiful girl."

“Thank you very much for your assessment, Johann, it's quite okay for you to admit your uncertainty. You are still young and inexperienced, but a really good observer,” remarked the man in the robe approvingly.

"And how about you, Martin?" Even the alderman did not miss the opportunity to approach the distraught girl again and touch her. But then he said: "I think I shouldn't make my judgment now ... the time will come to judge Johanne, but that will be later..."

The judge was a little surprised. "Of course, Martin, we will both discuss and judge later... But what is your impression?"

"Well, I would like to agree with Councilor Johan: I'm not sure about the rather small spot, but the girl's large breasts are very noticeable..."

I looked into the eyes of the other councilors and I also saw their uncertainty. It seemed to me that at that moment many wished that they had positioned themselves in the middle and not to the left. But they wanted to hide their own insecurity, so they all followed the herd instinct and their mayor as leader.

"Are you all sure of your decision?" The judge asked the other gentlemen.

"Yes, I have no doubt! She's a witch!” The mayor replied, but the others were silent. "Apart from the dark spot in the girl's pubic hair, did you find anything conspicuous that supported your decision?" The man in the robe wanted to know.

"Yes, her tits!" One shouted. "Her boobs jump out as if they wanted to attack me..." He got broad approval. "Sure, her boobs are too big for this little girl; she must have fed the devil." "And her pussy is dripping," another councilor said grinning.

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Johanne is humiliating exhibited in front of the councilors and is shamefully examined by them.

The judge stated with satisfaction: “Nine of us recognize the signs of evil on the girl's body as a dark spots above her shame. Two more feel the presence of the devil on her large breasts. Obviously many others have this impression too. Nobody among you recognizes innocence or missing signs. That is a clear vote for the guilt of the young witch... Add to that there are serious accusations... If she doesn't confess now, Master Egbert has to subject her to the embarrassing questioning!"

I pushed the trembling, naked girl in front of the judge still with her hands bound behind her neck.

"Well, Johanne," he addressed her with both kindness and severity. “You are accused of witchcraft on the basis of serious testimony and you wear the marks of evil on your body, above your shame and inside your breasts. So you have to be considered a witch, nobody has recognized your innocence... There are two bases for your judgment, the third and only thing that is missing now is your confession. And be sure, we will force that if you show no insight... So go into yourself, ease your conscience, confess here and now that you are a witch... Spare yourself the terrible agony of torture."

Johanne almost shivered with fear, but she kept shaking her head and saying: "No, I'm not a witch, that's not true!"

“Don't speak of the truth, witch,” they called out to her, but she wasn't intimidated. “These are false accusations; it must all be a mistake, a misunderstanding. It's a harmless mole on my body that I hardly noticed before ... And my breasts have just grown well..."

"You lie! Admit you have fucked with the devil and you have witch tits,” someone of the crowd shouted. The judge asked for silence and turned back to Johanne:

“Turn around and look each of the councilors in his face and eyes! Almost everyone has recognized the hidden spot in your pubic hair as a mark of the devil... And look at your heavy breasts, aren't they too big for a girl of your age? I knew your mother; she didn't have nearly as big breasts as you. You had to reveal yourself completely naked to a jury of 12 men, you couldn't hide anything, praise God, and the traces of your evil doings as a witch with the devil were recognized. See, your game is over ... confess!"

“No, no… Nothing has been recognized! Yes, I have big breasts, but most men like it, even though I don't want to stand out ... but that's not why I'm a witch! So far everyone has told me that I have beautiful breasts... And almost all of you have a small mole somewhere."

“We're not here to argue with you, witch! You tried to seduce the village cop with your tits and an enchanted drink, the land lord saw you with his wife and his child, who died a little later. Three cows got sick after you milked them ... Who knows what other mischief you've caused. And we really have to assume that you presented your big tits to the devil... They filled with milk, which made them swell up. Don't lie, be sensible; confess to me and these gentlemen here and now that you are a witch!"

I turned Johanne around so that she was looking at all the men in the room, but she looked down. Slowly she shook her head. "That's not true, I'm not a witch," she said in a low voice. "And my breasts don't give any milk ... I'm just a girl."

“Go inside,” repeated the judge. “If you confess now, I can still be lenient, cause you a quick death. But if you confess under the torture, I will let you burn alive and you will bear the terrible pain of the torture as well. Be sensible, spare yourself all this sorry, confess now!"

Johanne started to cry, then she pulled herself together again and said: "I'm not a witch ... I'm innocent of all of this!"

“Witch girl you play well, but that won't do you any good. If you are unreasonable and obdurate, then you have to face the torture”, said the judge and turned his gaze to me.

He spoke to the girl again: “Master Egbert will do his duty if you don't want it any other way. He has learned his trade well, many stronger women than you have already been tortured and confessed to be a witch ... not a single one has withstood his torture."

The man in the robe went up to Johanne and changed from a strict to an amicable, fatherly tone: “I want to meet you, Johanne, as far as I can. You are now relieving your conscience and only confessing here and in front of all these witnesses that you presented your breasts to the devil and you gave him your milk. Then I will spare you the torture and a lot of terrible suffering for today. I'll give you a day to reflect and tomorrow we'll talk about the other allegations of witchcraft. - This is an extremely amicable offer, it would be crazy of you not to accept it."

The judge was a shrewd fox, her admission to have served the devil with her breasts was enough for burning at the stake and in addition it required to put branding irons or claws on her plump witch tits. Tomorrow he would confront her with it and demand all further confessions, first the fornication with the devil, then her evil sorcery ... or she would still have to be tortured.

I saw Johanne hesitate; now to escape the pressure of torture was tempting. I was already afraid of being robbed of my work here. I looked at the girl expectantly. She took a deep breath, looked at the floor, and then slowly shook her head. "I didn't give my breasts to the devil, I would never do something like that, because I'm not a witch." She only whispered, but everyone could hear it.

I was relieved, but I hardly expected otherwise. A witch did not give up so easily, all witches fought with me on torture.

“Good, if you want it that way. You will regret your stubbornness, because I will never again be able to judge you with this mildness ... I promise you, you will confess everything we want to hear from you, but the longer you resist, the harder the judgment must be against you ... Before you mount the stake, you should receive branding irons, tongs and claws on the most sensitive parts of your body!"

Then he turned to me. "So, Master Egbert, do your duty now and don't spare the young witch!"

The judge's speech earned applause from his councilors, but Johanne stood there petrified and trembled with fear.

"Stop, let's wait!" The mayor shouted. “We should give the witch girl the opportunity to experience pain and purification in our presence. Maybe that will persuade her to make an amicable confession after all."

The judge looked at the mayor in surprise. "Of course," he said at last, "We can start the serious questioning here too... If the gentlemen want to take that much time?"

The councilors murmured their approval, hesitantly at first, then resolutely. Nobody wanted to miss a little taste of the torture on this beautiful girl. I was a little annoyed because I'd rather have gone to the torture chamber alone with the beautiful witch; but I tried not to let my frustration show.

"Master Egbert, what do you suggest, what should we start with? It should be possible to carry it out here in this room."

"Well, I could fix the witch very uncomfortably and then hit her hard with a stick and whip, that will be quite painful in the long run and it will put her to the first test."

"That is a good idea. Please start the preparations immediately! "

While I was getting the necessary tools and making arrangements, the barber arrived to do his job. Her frizzy pubic hair, together with the shaving cream, soon fell down between Johanne's thighs in thick flakes. A beautiful, hairless pussy emerged, only her lap mouth pouted a little, as he was exposed to all glances. But soon her pussy would not only be exposed to view, but also defenselessly attacked by the whip...


For me as an executioner, however, suddenly there was hardly any work left. I had to deal with tramps and thieves again. Only occasionally did I come across pretty and young women as denying adulterers who came under torture, but mostly they confessed much faster than I would like; then the only task left for me was to whip her publicly. Unfortunately, I only saw the bare back of the sinner, which was covering with welts and slowly turned bloody. While the audience could also watch how she pressed her soft breasts against the whipping post in pain and distress.

I was worried because, as an executioner without the witch hunt, I would not be able to continue my prosperous life much longer.
That's right - no-one thinks about the excecutioner's living! It's all about the "rights of the accused" and "danger of false confessions".... if you didn't want a confession, why did you hire him?


That's right - no-one thinks about the excecutioner's living! It's all about the "rights of the accused" and "danger of false confessions".... if you didn't want a confession, why did you hire him?
Thanks for your hint! It is certainly justified to think first of the victims and their indescribable suffering, when they were accused as witches. But little is known of executioners and torturers. In many witch stories they are described as sadistic or completely callous people who either enjoyed the torture or who were completely indifferent to the fate of the victims. But were they really like that? How must they have suffered emotionally too if they were in no way convinced of the guilt of the victims and knew that they only forced the desired confessions for their clients... And all the property of convicted witches was confiscated, there were many who did benefited from the witch hunt.


Thanks for your hint! It is certainly justified to think first of the victims and their indescribable suffering, when they were accused as witches. But little is known of executioners and torturers. In many witch stories they are described as sadistic or completely callous people who either enjoyed the torture or who were completely indifferent to the fate of the victims. But were they really like that? How must they have suffered emotionally too if they were in no way convinced of the guilt of the victims and knew that they only forced the desired confessions for their clients... And all the property of convicted witches was confiscated, there were many who did benefited from the witch hunt.
Well, this one doesn't seem too bothered as long as he makes a living.


Well, this one doesn't seem too bothered as long as he makes a living.
The executioner of this story has achieved modest prosperity through an earlier witch hunt (Chapter 2). He realized that the torture and execution of witches offered him work and good wages. Charges and judgments are not his job, he is responsible for the confessions, but they are forced confessions. He tries to hide the question of guilt for himself, the judge is responsible for this (Chapter 3 and 6 below). He sees his job as a challenge at the same time, of course no woman wants to confess to being a witch and burn at the stake. He sees accused witches as serious opponents whom he thoroughly respects. To defeat them anyway on torture gives him a 'victory' - this view is certainly reprehensible...
But in any case as an executioner he is an important cog in the clockwork of the witch hunts that dragged on in Europe for over three centuries and for some dcades in the New World.


Chapter 6 – Stick and Whip

I would have preferred Johanne to myself, but I could understand the mayor's and his councilors' wish to watch this beautiful witch to be tortured a little, naked of course. So I prepared a pole with a hole for Johanne's neck in order to fix her head and arms spread out wide. A chain is attached to it that leads to the ceiling to keep the girl in an upright position. I also got sticks to hit and a selection of whips to whip her... That should be enough for a first demonstration.

When the barber had finished shaving the girl's pussy, I let Johanne kneel upright on the hard floor with her arms outstretched on the chain and bar. She had to stick out her breasts nicely in this position, but first I attacked her from behind so that she just held out her tits towards her visitors. But yet it was clear that her plump boobs also asked for one of my attention and for a punishment.

Soon the mayor and the councilors had gathered around us again after a stimulating conversation in the hallway, no one wanted to miss this introduction of my torture art and of Johanne's pain. And I was determined to give the beautiful witch a first, serious taste of humiliation and pain.

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A very painful demonstration begins for Johanne

Without warning, I hit her with a slim stick. Oh how she twitched, moaned and gasped for breath to present her breasts to the gentlemen even more excitingly. So it happened in quick succession. Soon her back was full of red welts and she began to whine and cry. Undeterred, I continued my punches until 24 blows. Then I stopped and looked at the judge. He just nodded and asked Johanne if she wanted to confess, but she shook her head.

“As you like… Please go on, Master Egbert!"

I saw the girl suffer, but she seemed to think she could take my beating ... but this was just the beginning. I grabbed a long cane and started pounding her bum with it. She was soon twitching and writhing in exciting ways. I knew no indulgence and kept hitting the beautifully rounded buttocks of the young witch until she lamented, moaned, sobbed and tears flowed. But I didn't stop until 24 harsh lashes when her bottom was reddened appropriately and well covered with welts.

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Johanne experiences humiliation and pain in front of the councilors

I knew no indulgence and kept hitting the beautifully rounded buttocks of the young witch until she lamented, moaned, sobbed and tears flowed. But again I stopped only after 24 lashes when her bottom was reddened appropriately and well covered with welts.

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For Johanne, the demonstration will be even far worse than feared

Again I looked at the judge and he repeated his question, but Johanne remained stubborn. I had not expected otherwise. But now my attacks have become more vicious. I grabbed a bundle of whips and hit her protruding tits with it, alternating right and left, sometimes from top to bottom, then across.

She squeaked and wanted to protest. "Oh, please not my boobs!" "What did you think?" I asked back. "Of course I'll attack your tits!"

It was a delight to see her heavy tits bouncing and jumping under my blows, as they first turned soft red, then dark red and finally purple.

Johanne begged at 12 lashes I should stop, but I gave her unwaveringly the second dozen. Soon she cried out at every stroke, her whole face reddened, more tears flowed and everyone saw the misery in her tearful and fearful looks. I kept hitting her boobs. The bundle of whips was quite soft, but it stung her delicate skin and at the same time had a depth effect inside her breasts. Slowly, her pink buds also changed color until they were cherry red and protruding provocatively hard.

So she took the second dozen lashes on her tits while screaming and crying. Finally the judge asked again if she wanted to confess, but Johanne just sobbed and cried.

"It seems to me that the witch is obdurate... I have to seriously attack her in the torture chamber," I interfered.

The judge looked questioningly into the crowd and again the mayor spoke up: "I think the witch girl will certainly like an encore on her tits, it seems to me that her boobs are very sensitive!"

I was supposed to attack her breasts again, that was vicious; but I had to say with appreciation that this man understood what torture was all about - identifying weaknesses and attacking them without indulgence.

I looked into Johanne's face, her reddened eyes and the tears on her cheeks betrayed pain and suffering. "So we'll start the next round on your plump boobs... The mayor wants to see how you like it, witch." She seemed desperate to me, but she just shook her head.

I decided to proceed with a flat, narrow leather strap. It bit much deeper into her soft curves and let her boobs jump in a wild dance ... and yet it didn't cause any serious damage. Soon her screams broke out, but I didn't stop before a dozen lashes. More would have ruined her tits early on, I wanted to avoid that. I was sure that her purple breasts were already a place of burning agony.

Johanne’s head sank on her chest and she began to cry uncontrollably, but she still didn't want to confess. Instead, she whined, "Oh, my boobs, my poor boobs... It hurts so much!"

"If the judge agrees, we will take a short break to relax," suggested the mayor... "And then Master Egbert attacks the wicked witch girl here in front of everyone between the legs at the place of her sin." I was again astonished, the man had taste and he really knew something about torture. The judge nodded in agreement.

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Johanne is helplessly spread for the vicious attack between her legs

While the gentlemen were drinking their deserved beer after so much excitement with the buxom witch girl, I prepared Johanne. I tied her with the back on a wide bench with her legs wide apart. Two guards helped me with my work, so I still had time to have a beer myself.

Half an hour later it went on, the councilors returned, Johanne was perfectly prepared with her legs wide apart and she should now feel the strap I had chosen for her: soft, not too heavy leather, two cubits long and a thumb wide.

It was clear to me that I had not only forced Johanne into an extremely shameful attitude, but that she was now about to experience very special suffering. Surely her tits were already burning like fire, her back and bottom ached on the hard wood, but she would soon feel hell between her legs.

When everyone was gathered, I struck. The young witch twitched her thighs wildly and moaned excruciatingly, but she couldn't protect her pussy in any way.

Smack gossip ... smack ... smack ... I beat her viciously, again and again I hit her pussy with the strap while she moaned and soon began to scream. Her pussy seemed to be absorbing blow after blow and initially just blushed. But then her pubic lips began to swell. She screamed and soon she was begging me to stop. "Oh please, I can't take anymore; it's enough for my poor pussy."

"When it's enough for your pussy, me and the judge will decide," I said with a grin. “I'm sure your witch pussy wants to be kisses a lot more by the biting leather.” I looked at the man in the robe and he just nodded.

I kept slapping between her legs, her whole body tensing up, and I realized that this was much more than just a warm-up for the torture. But no confession without suffering ... At twenty she seemed to be at the end of her strength, but a witch deserved no mercy and so I continued until the 24th blow. Johanne lay there, completely exhausted.

Did she really think she'd been through it by now?

For a moment I wondered: Was Johanne really a witch, or was she the victim of malicious accusations and misjudgments by the gentlemen gathered here? Then I quickly pushed the thought away. The only thing that mattered was that she was accused of being a witch and that I was supposed to get her to confess ... only that was my job. Her confession, nothing else mattered; everything else was the job of the judge and these gentlemen.


The executioner of this story has achieved modest prosperity through an earlier witch hunt (Chapter 2). He realized that the torture and execution of witches offered him work and good wages. Charges and judgments are not his job, he is responsible for the confessions, but they are forced confessions. He tries to hide the question of guilt for himself, the judge is responsible for this (Chapter 3 and 6 below). He sees his job as a challenge at the same time, of course no woman wants to confess to being a witch and burn at the stake. He sees accused witches as serious opponents whom he thoroughly respects. To defeat them anyway on torture gives him a 'victory' - this view is certainly reprehensible...
But in any case as an executioner he is an important cog in the clockwork of the witch hunts that dragged on in Europe for over three centuries and for some dcades in the New World.
Certainly takes quite a load of doublethink - but better that than manual labour or starvation, eh?


Chapter 7 – The needle pricking

“Do you finally want to see that you cannot endure this tough test in the long run, Johanne? Would you rather confess now that you are a witch or do we have to continue the painful interrogation?"

She sobbed. "Oh please have mercy, my poor pussy, my poor boobs ... everything is just fire ... So believe me, I'm innocent, I'm not a witch!"

"Unfortunately, these are not the insightful answers we want to hear from you, Johanne," decided the judge and looked questioningly into the assembled crowd.

"How about hot needles, Master Egbert?" The mayor asked. I didn't like how much he interfered, but I had to agree, hot needles, that made sense now, especially on her battered breasts and swollen pussy. Already violently attacked as it was, hot needles would kindle a real fireworks display.

I briefly discussed with the judge: One more attempt here with red hot needles, then I would take them to the torture chamber and release the assembled gentlemen for their other important tasks.

I left Johanne bound to the bench with her legs wide apart, got myself needles and lit candles. Everything was quickly and perfectly prepared for my attack.

I let the tip of a finger-length needle glow in the candle and then brought it to her right breast. “Johannes look flew to me briefly. Then she closed her eyes and clenched her teeth in preparation for the pain."

“Clever little witch”, I thought to myself, “but it won't be of much use to you.” I took her hard, dark red nipple between the thumb and forefinger of my left hand. I immediately felt the heat of her nipple and felt the little bud pound with her heartbeat. But it was time for her to suffer more. Determined, I stuck the needle deep into her most sensitive berry. The needle was no longer glowing, but it was burning hot. There was a brief hiss and Johanne twitched wildly, she tensed up and tore at her ropes. Without hesitation, I pierced her bud with the hot pen. I held the teat firmly squeezed between my index and middle fingers and pressed the needle deeper and deeper into her breast with my thumb.

Oh dear, how it hurt! Her high-pitched screams rang through the hall, while she was tearing her ropes even more violently; but she was well secured.

I looked at my work with satisfaction; the young witch's right nipple was impaled like a berry.

I noticed how some of the councilors were frightened and stepped back; others stared in amazement at the needle that was sticking a little bit out of the pierced bud. "The witch won't confess without pain," I remarked to reassure them.

Immediately I heated the second needle in the candle flame so that I could turn to her left nipple. I recognized the horror in Johannes' face, she shook her head violently and then looked at me pleadingly. When I stabbed her bud a horrific scream broke out, but I stuck the heated needle through the excited teat as carefully as I had done on the other side before.

It must have been an unbearable pain for the girl ... and all without the most brutal way and the glowing hot pliers. I was a little proud of my sister's idea.

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Johanne's nipples are impaled with heated needles, an idea of the torturer's sister.

It took time for Johanne to recover, she lay there panting for a long time and looked in horror at her breasts with the pricked pens, which rose and fell in an exciting way to the rhythm of her hectic breathing ... like small pieces of meat to be eaten. It was good work, just a small drop of blood, otherwise pain and horror.

"Don't you want to finally confess, Johanne?" The judge asked in a concerned tone. “I am ready one last time to renew my offer from earlier. - Did you offer your breasts to the devil, maybe he made you do it?"

His tricks and persuasion didn't work. A witch was not that easy to defeat, I knew that, her confession would certainly take a lot of effort. Johanne shook her head weakly.

“No, please believe me, I never breastfed children or the devil with my breasts. Milk has never flowed out of my boobs."

"You are lying, you have fed the devil with your large breasts," said the judge harshly. He was good at alternating between a worried tone and severity... Trying the girl once and then intimidating again… And he didn't allow any excuses.

I thought, I wanted to increase the suffering of the young witch considerably again. Unfortunately, Johanne was lying on her back, otherwise there would have been an opportunity to vigorously heat the needle heads with a candle flame, with the result that the heat slowly but inexorably and cruelly penetrated from the needle heads into her pierced nipples. That would certainly have brought her to the verge of despair. When I was wondering what alternatives I had, the mayor intervened again:

"I think we councilors could help the young witch think a little before we go back to our work ... Her tits are big enough, anyone who wants to participate can stick a needle or two into the witch's tits ... So that nobody has to wait a long time, we can split up between her two tits and form a third row between her legs ... there we can help the witch girl to tame her unbridled lust with a leather strap."

The judge was as visibly surprised as me. “Well, for all I care, if Master Egbert has no objections.” I didn't like the matter at all: This time it wasn't just about the mayor's interference in my work... What he suggested was 'lay torture'. The gentlemen certainly had no experience in handling the needle, it would be a terrible torture for the girl ... But as a witch she deserved no sparing and I found it difficult to contradict.

The alderman also obviously had concerns and discussed first with the judge and then with the mayor. A nod finally signaled to me that the 'lay torture' should begin for the fun of the councilors. I submitted.

"For hot needles you need a lot of experience to prick them at the right moment ... But nice, pointed needles for her plump witch tits ... the gentlemen may try their hand at it if you want ... and you may whip the delinquent harshly with a short leather strap between her legs."

Some of the councilors were immediately enthusiastic, others were reluctant, but soon there were 3 men each on either side of the girl and between her legs. I made the men’s work a little easier by tying strings over and under Johanne’s breasts and pressing their tits a little in between. Then I gave a few tips on how to squeeze her plump boobs even better with the hands and how to prick, namely quickly and powerfully ... and rather leave a needle halfway and took a new one than fumble with clumsy fingers for a long time.

Soon the gentlemen were working on her tits in twos, one squeezing Johanne's breast, the other pricking the needle. A third one raged between her legs. Since I had already tortured her pussy badly, I chose a light and particularly soft strap for the men.

The girl's plight was great and I was afraid she might be broken at the hands of the councilors and not by me. Needles were stuck into her tender tits from both sides at the same time, while she was also beaten between her legs. It was real torture and certainly not only a taste of it.

Most of the councilors were quite clumsy at pricking needles, as I expected, but at the same time they were brutal at lashing with the leather thong. So there was miserable wailing and shouting from the young witch, which quickly spoiled the fun of some of the gentlemen in their meritorious work. I was told to close the girl's mouth.

I pressed a piece of wood between Johanne's teeth and fixed it with two strings behind her neck. So she could only moan pitifully while the councilors continued to beat her pussy, sticking needle after needle into her plump tits and pressing the wicked beasts rather clumsily deeper into her feminine flesh.

I quickly realized that this was no longer about confessions, but only about the cruel fun of the councilors. Johanne couldn't even have spoken or confessed with the wood in her mouth. At least the piece of wood kept her from biting her tongue in pain.

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The councilors find joy in their lay-torture and transform Johanne's breasts into pincushions. Her mouth is closed, so that she doesn't scream so horribly.

The gentlemen wandered around in a circle, for example pricking the right breast, then pricking the left breast, finally pounding the pussy - or starting at another position. But some did not stop at one round; they started a second one with enthusiasm... Others quickly turned away again. They didn't have the heart to prick the girl's beautiful breasts, or they were just too clumsy.

So that the guys didn't completely ruin the girl's labia and breasts, I limited the allowable lashes per person to two between her legs; but still a terrifying number came together. And no one was allowed to put more than one needle into each breast.

Johanne must have suffered terribly as the councilors slowly turned her breasts into pincushions and her pussy into a place of terrible agony. Of course that was her torture and as a witch she deserved no pity. At least I noticed how some of the high-ranking councilors turned into unrestrained beasts while others withdrew. I finally realized that I had to stop this group torture so that there was still something left of the victim for me...

When I counted 13 needles, seven on the left and six on the right breast, I said, “It's enough! Thirteen needles are now inside her boobs, that's the number of witches.” That ended the pricking of the needles at once and the blows between her legs a little later.

“Take her with you to the torture chamber, Master Egbert!” The judge hurried to leave the further torture to me as an expert.

This was the indication that the councilors were saying goodbye. Some left relieved, others rather sad. Surely some of them would have gladly continued to torture, or at least seen how I force the witch girl to confess. But some of the councilors seemed to me to have their doubts about what they were doing... They looked very thoughtful and probably wondered if this was the right way to bring the truth about Johanne's guilt or ungilt to light.

Only the mayor demanded that he be allowed to whip Johanne's pussy again. "Take the gag out of her mouth; I want to hear the witch girl scream!" I didn't want an argument with the influential man who paid me. So I did what he asked.

Again and again he hit Johanne between the legs and was obviously happy about her screams. Fortunately, I had chosen the soft leather strap to strike; otherwise there would hardly have been anything left for my pliers on her pussy...

"Enough for today, you did a good job, mister mayor... Confessions take time", with these words I stopped the zealot and finally pushed him away. I was relieved when he followed the other councilors to leave.

I untied Johanne and led her with two guards down to the torture chamber. She was struggling to walk at all and was far too weak to resist. Again and again she holds her hands on the pierced breasts and between her beaten legs. Finally, she was allowed to pull the needles out of her own tits and to coat her pussy with a cooling ointment. Again there were sobs, tears, moans...

What should I do with her now? All of my planning was gone because her torture was well advanced.

Notes: I have deliberately avoided the otherwise more common witch pricking with needles as part of a witch's test; it has already been described many times elsewhere. Instead, I wanted to show how high-ranking councilors can suddenly become enthusiastic torturers when the opportunity arises ... but also, of course, that others turn away. But they all remain 'followers'.
And again the note, this is a witch fantasy that takes up many ideas from that time, but does not represent a description as faithful as possible of a witch hunt and witch trial in the early modern times or in the late Middle Ages.
Here the judge is also the inquisitor or the witch commissioner, as a rule these were separate persons. In one way or another, that didn't change anything about the lack of any rule of law in witch trials. Witchcraft was considered a 'crimen exceptum', an exceptional crime. In addition to the witch, they always saw themselves exposed to the devil as an opponent – the good aim justified every malicious means. Did they have problems with wrong confessions and misjudgments extorted under torture? God would not allow that, or would make up for the poor sacrifice in heaven, that was the usual argument.


Chapter 8 – Raised by the Arms and beaten

At first I thought of showing and demonstrating my torture tools to the girl in the torture chamber in order to intimidate her a little more. But I quickly realized that in her condition she was far too little receptive to seriously scare her now. So I decided to continue her torture after she freed herself from the needles in her breasts and took some air. Only the judge, the alderman and the clerk followed me to the embarrassing questioning and two guards who helped me.

Blood was dripping from her nipples, her tits had turned purple, her pussy was almost black and swollen, but I only noticed that for a moment. I tied her hands behind her back and began slowly to pull them up towards the ceiling with a chain. When she started to moan, she was already sticking her ass out wonderfully and her tits were hanging down nicely from her chest. To further limit her ability to react to my attacks, I put an iron ring around her neck, spread her legs with a bar and connected the ring around her neck to the spreader bar between her feet with a chain.

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Johanne is painfully pulled up by the arms behind her back; then she is humiliated in a hunched position and with her legs spread apart.

I was satisfied to see that she was completely helpless at my mercy... And I was determined to wrestle very seriously with the witch girl for a confession now. The judge motioned me to begin the torture. I dismissed the guards, not without thanking them and calling out to them: "Be ready, there is certainly still something to do for you..."

I started pounding Johanne's bum with a cane. There I had hit her with a stick before and her reactions were correspondingly violent and hectic. But I didn't stop with beating her butt, I repeatedly gave her a series of four blows, twice her ass, once each of the right and left thighs from behind. The pain forced Johanne to move uncontrollably, especially when I hit the tense muscles of her legs. The only way for her to react was to lower her upper body further while increasing the pull on her shoulders, causing a sharp pain to shoot into her joints.

Johanne was in a really awkward position, but I hit her hard and without a break. The young witch accompanied my work with tears, moans and screams.

After the first dozen blows I pulled the chain higher until she howled and I beat the witch girl again. She twitched and screamed until she ran out of air to scream, then she only gasped and moaned.

After the second dozen blows, the alderman asked worriedly: "Johanne, don't you want to confess? You see, there's no point in continuing to defend yourself against the inevitable."

She just gasped and said nothing. I pulled the chain a little higher again. Then I grabbed a fresh cane and started the third dozen lashes on her bottom and thighs. She tried to stand still, but she couldn't avoid a violent twitching with every blow. I finally took a breath myself and took a break. The back of her legs and bum were covered with red and purple welts.

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Johanne's buttocks and thighs are covering with many red welts.

"Come on, talk! Don't shame! Better tell us about your atrocities”, the judge began his questioning. “I want to hear everything from you now. My goodness, you have been caught... Get rid of the devil, your time as a witch is over now!"

She sobbed. "I'm not a witch... I haven't done any harm. Please believe me!"

"Pull the chain higher, Master Egbert!"

But I expressed concern that her shoulders could dislocate, then we would have to call a doctor and the torture would have been seriously interrupted. Instead, I pondered some other meanness. I grabbed two wooden staples with sharp nails inserted into their mouths, which I could pull out or push in deeper. I attached two short chains to the bracket for weighting it down with lead. This, too, was an idea that I had developed together with my sister.

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Malicious clamp with a ring for weights and nails on the tips, the depth of which can be adjusted to bite into the flesh of the nipples.

I pulled the nails all the way out, opened the clamp a little with two small wedges, slid the tip over one of her nipples, and snapped the clamp shut. Johanne looked at me with horrified eyes. But the evil came only now. With flat pliers I pressed the nails into the excited bud of her left breast in order to fix it securely there.

"Aaaahhhh uuuhhhh aaahhh … ouch!" The girl's reaction was extremely violent. Undeterred, I hung a lead weight on the bracket of the chain. Johanne accompanied it with an intense groan.

"I know the beasts bite badly," I said to her, "but at least the weights don't fall off your tits that way."

I repeated the process on her right breast and hung some lead on her other nipple as well. Her draped boobs drooped a little lower and her teats stretched. My intention was that her tits would soon be swinging violently with the weights, which were painfully tearing at her nipples with the nails.

I grabbed a wide leather belt and pulled it powerfully and clapping loudly over the girl's beaten bottom. Oh how she twitched violently, moaned loudly and wiggled her breasts wonderfully, so that the weights on it swayed wildly back and forth, which caused the hunched witch further discomfort.

I came in a rage and I ran blow by blow over her bottom, which soon took on a purple hue that slowly covered the dark red welts. Johanne shrieked, desperately tugging at her chains, but I continued to hit her bottom with the leather belt until Johanne's voice became hoarse from screaming and I finally got out of breath myself. So I took a break and let go of her for a moment.

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Johanne is hung with biting clamps with lead weights at her nipples

"Confess, Johanne, spare yourself this suffering," the judge admonished her sternly.

She shook her head weakly.

"No, I can't admit, that are all lies!" She sighed. "You just want me to come to the stake so that I can no longer tell the truth about the land lord and the village cop."

I was impressed by her courage and determination in spite of her great suffering. Her bum must have been a fiery place of misery and her sensitive teats should only have felt biting pain.

"You will still reflect and confess, little witch, I understand my craft well," I intervened and hung her breasts with additional weights so that they were very clearly elongated and far down.

I changed the leather belt for a riding crop and from then on I hit her lengthways across the back, which now also covered itself with further red welts. As I pulled one biting lash after another across her back, her tits began to rock and jump wildly, driven by the weights and her twitching. Unfortunately, the gentlemen had a much better view at her breasts than I, who was standing behind the girl.

The tears were already pouring down when I stopped and gave us both a little break.

"Don't you want to confess?" The alderman asked this time. Johanne shook her head. "Oh please stop beating me ... I can't take it anymore," the young witch wailed.

"Come on; don't be stupid, you have to confess first!" I interfered.

I hung the third weight on her tits. "Oh no... Aaahhhuuuhhh … ouch!" She responded.

I took a bundle of whips and hit her between the legs from behind. She screeched loudly. That was mean and badly, I knew that. The councilors had already raged between her legs, but I wanted to subdue her.

I delivered more blows to her pussy. Johanne howled, moaned and repeatedly gasped for air, she didn't have the strength to scream.

When I finished this sentence, too, she seemed to be at the end of her strength.

“Leave her alone, Master Egbert” the alderman tried to give the girl a break and the judge supported him.

“Come on, girl; tell us all your sins! Make a start. Each of us has sinned, including you. If you don't want to be a witch, at least tell us all your other serious sins! As long as you confess your sins, we don't have to torture you any further."

The judge indicated to me to relax the rope a little from above and so I gave Johanne some relief. I was angry. Instead of giving her relief, I would have preferred to raise the intensity of her torture; because I realized how she was getting weaker and weaker. But judge and alderman were content with intermediate steps instead of wrestling the only essential confession from her: "Yes, I am a witch!"


Chapter 9 – Johanne confesses her sins

Johanne decided to tell unpleasant things now rather than continue to be tormented and beaten by me. She stayed hanging on the chains in her unhappy, stooped posture, but I relieved her tits of the weights and clamps, as the alderman had requested.

"Oh please," she said, "release me from these terrible chains, my neck is in pain, my legs are shaking, my whole body is totally cramped ... And I would have to empty my bladder... Then I will confess everything, I'll confess all my sins to you..."

"For an accused witch this is definitely an appropriate posture ... Certainly quite uncomfortable, but it helps us to have a serious conversation, as it has often been shown," the judge decided. "And if your bladder squeezes, all the better; that only makes you more open too... So, start talking and confess all your sins to us!"

"Oh please..." "No relief, it's decided!"

"Well, yes my sins... I stole bread when I was hungry," she said after a moment's hesitation. "I lied to my parents and the priest..."

She seemed to be saying whatever came to her mind; the main thing was not to admit that she is a witch ... And in any case, some recovery from the torture ... even if her uncomfortable posture and the bladder plagued her. But the judge was right, that was appropriate for an accused witch.

"You haven't confessed all of your sins to the priest, is that true?" Johanne nodded uncertainly.

“That is surely not all ... What else? You gave yourself up to the lust of your thighs! Was that what you kept from the priest?"

Johanne swallowed, shyly avoiding his looks. The judge immediately increased his pressure on the witch girl:

“We spoke to your brother; he testified that he heard you moan lustfully several times in your bed while he was unable to sleep himself. Is that true?"

She nodded her head. "If my brother says that, it will probably be true… But maybe he moaned with pleasure himself and was only thinking of me, his big sister."

"Don’t distract from your sins! As a girl you gave yourself up to the lust of your thighs ... and you didn't confess anything about it to the priest, right?"

Johanne blushed. "Yes," she finally admitted.

“You can't keep your fingers off the place of your sin, can you? Do you do it every day? "

Johanne shook her head. "Only sometimes," she whispered, embarrassed.

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Johanne can't help but play with her fingers at the place of her sin...

"Sin is sin, how often does not matter ... But we know from your brother that you have been doing it for a long time ... And he said something else: You go for a walk at night in the moonlight, sometimes you come back soaked."

"Is it forbidden to walk over meadows that are soaked with dew in the moonlight?"

"No, it is not forbidden ... unless you have sex during the night with boys or even with the devil in person!"

"No, that is not true! I like it when the crickets are buzzing and I can look at the starry sky. "

“So, so, the crickets and the starry sky. Don't evade my questions! You met boys in the woods and on the meadow at night!"

"No, not in the forest, not at night..."

"Where then? Relieve your conscience! "

Johanne sighed and was silent.

"So you have been meeting with the devil?"

"No, no! Not with the devil."

"Who was it then?"

“A stable boy dragged me into the barn. I was scared, I was like frozen ... He pulled up my skirt, he took me from behind ... I did not want that!” I saw tears running down Johanne's cheeks.

"Like the animals do it?" Asked the judge; she nodded.

"It's a grave sin ... I'm sure you seduced the fellow!"

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Johanne is abused by a stable boy in the barn

"No, I definitely haven't seduced him ... how should I?"

"With your tits, don't be so simple-minded! But you didn't fight back - did you? "

“I wanted to fight back, but he twisted my arm. It hurt so much, I was scared and had to let him have his will."

“Well, you had to let him have his will. Did you scream and call for help?"

“I wasn't allowed to, he put a hand over my mouth and under my nose. I almost suffocated and had to promise him to stay calm."

"And later? Did you tell your parents or the priest something? ”Asked the alderman. Johanne just shook her head. "I was ashamed."

"How long ago was that?" "A few years already, I don't like to remember."

"But you can certainly remember that you felt pleasure while doing it, although you may not want that at all."

"I felt pleasure? I was raped and deflowered, I was afraid I would get pregnant. It was just pain and fear! "

“Did you get pregnant? Did you abort your unborn child?"

"No, no ... luckily I didn't get pregnant."

“You did it again? With the devil!"

“No, not with the devil, I would never do that, I'm not a witch! But I had a friend... "

"Did you seduce him or did he seduce you?"

"I do not know. Why does one have to seduce the other if both want it?"

"When I look at you like that, I already have the impression that you seduced him ... with your plump breasts."

"How can I help that I have such large breasts?"

"Who knows if your big boobs aren't your fault? And now you even wanted to seduce the village cop with your plump boobs?"

"No, that is not true! I would never give myself to this disgusting guy! He attacked me!"

"Why are you lying to us?"

"I'm not lying, it's the truth!"

"But you gave yourself to the devil?"

“No, no, no, definitely not! I would never do that!” Johanne shouted indignantly.

Already feeling close to his goal, the judge gave up visibly disappointed. He nodded regretfully.

“You are a sinful girl in every way and you are most certainly a witch! Torture will follow torture until you confess. I leave Master Egbert a free hand. What he thinks is right, he should do with you. So, better confess now, otherwise you'll have to go through hell!"

She shook her head in resignation and more tears flowed.

"No ... I've committed some sins, but I'm not a witch, definitely not! I didn't try to seduce the village cop, but he attacked me, just like the stable boy before and later the land lord here in my cell ... I don't know any magic potions and I can't make any. On the contrary, the village cop wanted to make me docile with wine!"

“Isn't it strange that three honorable men attacked you, as you claim? It looks a lot more to me that you are a great seductress!” The alderman said.

"I should flog you harshly for your sinful activities, but there is much more to it here," the judge decided.

“Then whip me if you think I deserve it. Yes, whip me, even if I've suffered so much here ... But then let me go. I am not a witch and I have now confessed all of my sins to you. If you continue to torture me; I could only confess lies in my need... Is that what you want?” Johanne said defiantly.

The clerk carefully noted all statements. Shrugging his shoulders, the judge turned from her and turned to me.

“Do your duty, Master Egbert. The land lord wants a confessing witch and not a sinner. So do your best. The sooner she confesses, the better it will be for the girl too!"

“I will do what I can, mister Judge! And I'll get her to confess,” I said firmly. "Be certain, I'll get the witch to talk ... about those things that really interest us."

"But don't overdo it, it must all be in its rightful order," warned the alderman, "you too can take a break." Then he, the judge and the clerk left the torture room to eat something; but I stayed behind with Johanne.

“We'll be back in the afternoon, call us in case the witch confesses beforehand! And let the girl hang when you take a break ... It helps her to think ... and there will be time for her to pee later, she must control herself," the judge said as he left. But the alderman asked me, "Do you need any helper?"

"No, I can get along best with the witch girl on my own, even if it takes some effort!"

I wanted to do without guards and support for the time being, because I finally wanted to be alone with Johanne, my witch.


Assistant executioner
First of all I would like to extend my appreciation to Rupert for his writings which had to have taken a great deal of time and effort both in the way of historical research as well as creative writing. Of all the endless scenarios which can be incorporated into BDSM fantasy, my personal preference is in this theme of early modern European witch pursuit. Perhaps the element which attracts me is the commingling of sex with torture and bondage. The history of that time shows clearly that those who chased the witches had mostly sex on their minds with theology and legal concerns serving as a cover for deeper desires. From the Malleus Maleficarum onwards it was women having sex with the Devil which captivated the minds of legal professionals. The questioning under torture or at least under threat of torture centered on women getting a little bit too much pleasure from their own bodies and it was up to law professors, judges, torturers and hangmen, etc. to stamp out that evil by any means possible.


First of all I would like to extend my appreciation to Rupert for his writings which had to have taken a great deal of time and effort both in the way of historical research as well as creative writing. Of all the endless scenarios which can be incorporated into BDSM fantasy, my personal preference is in this theme of early modern European witch pursuit. Perhaps the element which attracts me is the commingling of sex with torture and bondage. The history of that time shows clearly that those who chased the witches had mostly sex on their minds with theology and legal concerns serving as a cover for deeper desires. From the Malleus Maleficarum onwards it was women having sex with the Devil which captivated the minds of legal professionals. The questioning under torture or at least under threat of torture centered on women getting a little bit too much pleasure from their own bodies and it was up to law professors, judges, torturers and hangmen, etc. to stamp out that evil by any means possible.
The sexual aspect certainly plays an important role in the witch hunt – after all, a witch's career began with her seduction by the devil; after that she regularly met the devil at the witches' Sabbath and fornicated with him – nevertheless this was more of a side effect, a kind of deadweight. Of cause the convicted witch was exposed in front of the audience because she was tortured with branding irons or red-hot pliers on her way to the stake – or at the stake itself, her clothes caught fire and burned immediately. The accused witch often was also bared during torture, and while in her dungeon cell she was helplessly exposed to sexual assault.

The idea, however, that witches were caught and tortured for the fun of torturers, is certainly far from reality... Just as unrealistic is the overcrowded torture chamber, which resembled a large hall, and where half a dozen torturers tormented as many witches (picture). Torture wasn't for anybody’s fun, it was about confessions ... and usually everything was properly recorded. Witch commissars or inquisitors were present and the torturers followed their instructions according to mostly fixed rules.

witch torture_modern lithography.jpg The overcrowded torture chamber as a large hall is a modern idea...

witch torture.jpeg Then more like this way...

One should also not forget that the witch hunts at the beginning of modern times took place at a time of great upheaval that shook people: The discovery of new continents moved Europe from the center of the world, the Copernican view of the world moved the earth itself from the center of the universe... The Christian unity of faith disintegrated, religious wars raged, the climate deteriorated considerably (little ice age), there was confusion, hunger and need. After surviving the plague, smallpox and syphilis were brought in from America...

People looked for guilty parties and saw witchcraft in many things – because all these processes could not be explained at that time. Only with the Age of Enlightenment the witch craze did gradually disappear again. But 'witches' are still persecuted in some villages in India, New Guinea and parts of Africa...
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Assistant executioner
The sexual aspect certainly plays an important role in the witch hunt – after all, a witch's career began with her seduction by the devil; after that she regularly met the devil at the witches' Sabbath and fornicated with him – nevertheless this was more of a side effect, a kind of deadweight. Of cause the convicted witch was exposed in front of the audience because she was tortured with branding irons or red-hot pliers on her way to the stake – or at the stake itself, her clothes caught fire and burned immediately. The accused witch often was also bared during torture, and while in her dungeon cell she was helplessly exposed to sexual assault.

The idea, however, that witches were caught and tortured for the fun of torturers, is certainly far from reality... Just as unrealistic is the overcrowded torture chamber, which resembled a large hall, and where half a dozen torturers tormented as many witches (picture). Torture wasn't for anybody’s fun, it was about confessions ... and usually everything was properly recorded. Witch commissars or inquisitors were present and the torturers followed their instructions according to mostly fixed rules.

View attachment 1009796 The overcrowded torture chamber as a large hall is a modern idea...

View attachment 1009860 Then more like this way...

One should also not forget that the witch hunts at the beginning of modern times took place at a time of great upheaval that shook people: The discovery of new continents moved Europe from the center of the world, the Copernican view of the world moved the earth itself from the center of the universe... The Christian unity of faith disintegrated, religious wars raged, the climate deteriorated considerably (little ice age), there was confusion, hunger and need. After surviving the plague, smallpox and syphilis were brought in from America...

People looked for guilty parties and saw witchcraft in many things – because all these processes could not be explained at that time. Only with the Age of Enlightenment the witch craze did gradually disappear again. But 'witches' are still persecuted in some villages in India, New Guinea and parts of Africa...


Assistant executioner
As to the actual history of the witch persecutions it's of course true that everything was done with a serious intent and that no one would ever admit that there was any other motivation than trying to punish the crime of crimes and to protect human society from its very worst enemies. Everything done had the cloak of religion draped over it, and the entire procedure had a definite pattern with all measures taken done in accordance with the regulations of court procedure, especially after the promulgation of statutes in the time of the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V. When you read accounts of those trials there is a script of actions taken in regards to the accused witch with little deviation allowed, at least in idealized circumstances. Torturers worked in a definite sequence beginning with the supposedly "milder" degrees such as the thumbscrews and then worked their way upwards, tending to end with pain applied to the most sensitive parts of the body, the genitalia. The story you've composed does a good job in relating the feelings of shame as the accused is exposed to the sight of a male audience. All of these things done in an age where people, especially women, were clothed from head to foot normally. The days of sling bikinis being yet far off.


Chapter 10 – Alone with the witch girl

Finally I was alone with Johanne in the torture chamber and I wanted to stay alone for the time being. Two feelings wrestled inside me. On the one hand I was allowed to do what I wanted now, on the other hand I had to get the little witch to confess under all circumstances. There were witches who would rather let themselves be tortured to death than admit even a fraction of what they had done. But I didn't want to spoil my mood. Why think about the end if I haven't really started yet?

First of all, I wanted to increase her level of suffering. I pulled her arms up on the chain again until she was clearly moaning. Then I began to hit her with a soft leather strap alternately over her ass and thighs, over her back and finally again on her pussy between the legs. I saved her freed tits for the end to whip them.

It was just a little rewarming, but Johanne twitched, gasped, moaned and became noticeably weaker. As she hit her pussy and tits, she screeched pathetically. Without giving her shoulder relief, I grabbed her hair and pulled her head up so she had to look at me.

"Say, what are you willing to do to make me gentler against you?"

She met my challenging gaze.

“I know what you want. All men want it. But aren't you afraid to stick your cock into a witch?"

I nodded appreciatively.

“Well parried, little witch. But with that you've given yourself away ... So it's clear that you're a witch. It's just a shame that there are no witnesses here."

I looked at Johanne, actually I liked the girl ... But she was a witch, I wasn't allowed to be kind to her in any case. And so I thought about my answer.

"No, I'm not afraid of you... I see, here in the torture chamber you have no power... And neither does the devil. However, the miserable land lord was already inside you ... That's why I don't prefer the opening between your legs. I want you to take my cock in your mouth ... I'll hang a crucifix around your neck ... just to be careful; then I'll be safe from your witchcraft in any case. "

Her big, tearful eyes looked at me with strange astonishment. Not that she was horrified, but rather a bewildered look showed, as if I had spoken of hell or a terrible sin...

I tore her hair.

"Have you never done that before?" She shook her head.

"What is? Are you ready for it? "

She nodded.

Almost surprised by her consent, I loosened her chain a little. I gave in so much of it that she wasn't in much pain, but she still realized that I could continue the torture at any time. Her mouth was now fixed at the appropriate height.

She looked at me expectantly but uncertainly. So as I had promised, I hung a crucifix around her neck. Not that I really felt any safer that way, but I wanted to stick to the rules and intimidate the young witch.

I opened my trousers and my excited cock jumped out. She looked shyly at the floor.

"Put it in your mouth," I ordered. "And don't bite! If you bite me I'll burn out your teats and your pussy with a red-hot iron on the spot!"

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A little distraction and relaxation from torture is good for both parties

While I pressed my cock to her lips, she hesitantly opened her previously tightly closed mouth. I felt her wrestle with her reluctance. She took a deep breath and parted her lips a little wider. Immediately I pushed my cock in between demanding. She finally opened her teeth and I penetrated her. I grabbed her by the hair and began to push her head a little back and forth in my rhythm, sliding her tongue and lips over my penis...

She had a wonderful fuck mouth, I saw that immediately. It felt really good to fuck her virgin witch mouth ... even if there was a bit of a risk for me; a witch's teeth remain unpredictable and dangerous. But she remained gentle, her lips were soft and moist, her tongue a little rough. Her mouth was a perfect fuck and soon I was extremely excited.

“If I cum in your mouth right away, you will swallow everything nicely and lick it off thoroughly. I don't want any suspicious leads, you understand?"

She seemed to understand and much faster than I would like, I discharged myself into her oral cavity with great pleasure. Johanne choked a little, but she swallowed everything down well, then after a warning she also licked my cock very thoroughly clean.

Relieved, I pulled my penis back and closed my trousers again. That had done really well, now I had free thought to focus on her torture.

"Please, Lord, let me go now!"

I laughed bitterly.

“You are not quite at ease? If I let you go, it's my turn. The crime is called supporting witchcraft. Besides, I saw the devil in your cell, how he attacked you fervently. Without question, you are a witch!"

She protested miserably. “No, that was the land lord. I..."

"Hush!" I pressed a finger to her mouth. “It was the devil in the shape of the land lord! I'll drive the lies out of you..."

She shook her head in despair.

“No, please don't torture me any further! You promised to spare me ... I'll do whatever you ask for."

I yanked her head up by the hair again.

"You are a thoroughly rotten bitch ... You don't really think I'll let you go just because you've sucked my cock and I'm allowed to fuck you? We're all alone here and you're chained up. I could have taken you either way ... as I like it ... And I'll do what I want with you! … Sure, you were a little nice to me, but you had no other choice… I also have my duties, you are a witch and I am your torturer, so the roles in our game are unchangeable! "

I saw her resigned look; a glimmer of hope seemed to dissipate. But then she tried desperately to find a new way.

“But, I'm not a witch. Really not! So believe me ... It's unjust!"

“Who knows what is fair and just. I would have preferred to get to know you differently ... But now it has come to that. You're a witch and I'm paid for you to confess."

She looked at me in disbelief. "Then you come on the trestle now, there you can think about it carefully ... and I'll allow myself a break. But first, I'll allow the guards to have some fun with you ... I need their help, so we both have to be friendly with them. I can't afford a torturer. Before you, there were no more witches here, with whose torture I could earn my money. "

That was treason, I knew it. Her reproachful eyes pierced me ... But I needed help from the guards and she was a witch, she had no rights at all. Offering them the witch girl's whore services was an option that didn't cost me anything.

I called three guards and asked them to cleanse the girl of the devil. At first they looked at me puzzled, but they quickly understood.

“This is mean … this is a sin! You mustn't do that!” She shouted angrily, but she was completely defenseless.

Now one after the other began to rape Johanne. The guards pumped in the witch girl, they moaned and discharged, giving way to the next one. She cursed and called me a "bastard", but with her curses she only affirmed that she was a witch. I watched the guards fucking her.

One of the men immediately fucked her pussy, the second wanted to take her from the front and the third waited for his opportunity. But the young witch didn't want to use her mouth to serve the guard in front of her. She turned her head away in disgust, even when he tore at her hair. I quickly realized that I had to do some convincing with the girl.

When I stepped threateningly to her side with pliers in my hand, Johanne protested: “Yuck, it stinks, it's disgusting!” “As a witch you can't be so picky and you should show a little more hospitality, we need these men's help…"

I supported my hint by firmly pinching her left nipple and brutally dragging her boob down until she moaned. Then I showed her my pliers again. "Should I bite you with it?"

"No, not the pliers ... I'll do it ..." Obviously reluctantly she opened her mouth and let the guard's surely unwashed cock enter. "Good girl," I said appreciatively.

Soon I was watching the guards fuck. I loved how her battered tits jiggled and how she grimaced in pain when the next guard entered her injured pussy. I liked to watch a witch get fucked on torture, especially in a low stoop position like Johanne, whose big tits swayed gracefully to the beat of her rapist.

Johanne literally screamed to be used by both sides ... and I felt like taking her from behind again, but I'll save that for later.

witch and torturer_27.jpg 27
Spread out and well secured, Johanne is raped by the guards

When the three men had amused with the young witch and relieved themselves in her, two more guards came to have fun with the young witch. I let them do so. One fucked her from behind, the other from the front, and she was even insightful and well behaved. Soon it was dripping from her lap and semen oozing from her mouth and running down the insides of her thighs.

I could let this girl fuck for a whole day instead of torturing her, I thought to myself... Maybe at some point she would confess to being a witch so it would finally stop. But how many men would it take? Many many!

A few tears ran down Johanne's cheeks, but otherwise she endured the great rush and the rough treatment quite bravely. I realized more and more that she was a 'strong witch'. She wouldn't make it easy for me to get a confession from her. But that was exactly the challenge that I loved as an executioner and torturer.

When the guys were done with her, I freed Johanne from her chains. I took advantage of her daze and along with the last two guards; I dragged her to the witch trestle, also known as the wooden horse. It is a pointed, triangular wooden construction that the young witch had to sit on with her legs spread apart. For the first moment it wasn't that bad, but within an hour the hell could creep between her thighs ... Especially after she was attacked quite badly several times there.

She offered little resistance and eventually gave in to her fate. I tied her hands behind her back to a ring that hung on a rope from the ceiling. I pulled the rope so far that she had to bend forward and no longer could relieve her weight backwards. Then I tugged on her thighs, making sure that the sharp wooden edge slipped between the lips of her pubic. Johanne grimaced painfully and groaned.

Immediately I bent her knees and tied her feet on the sides of the horse in more iron rings. In the back of her knees, however, I hung stone weights so that she could increase her low body weight and so that she could not relieve her thighs.

"So, there you will find time to think for the next hour," I said cynically and looked into the terrified eyes of the girl, who looked at me pleadingly again.

"And if you feel like it later during your interrogation, you can always rest for an hour on this trestle ... and also spend the whole night on it, if you want."

I left the room demonstratively to eat something, but I left Johanne to her torture on the wooden trestle. It was clear to me that after the many blows she had received on her pussy, sitting on the witch's trestle would quickly turn her into a cruel torment that would bring her to the edge of despair. I would just have to wait ... My sister once had to endure three quarters of an hour without a beating and she told me it was unbearable. But I didn't intend to let Johanne sit there in peace...

witch and torturer_28.jpg 28
Johanne has to ride the wooden horse to find time to think

I went to eat, but after half an hour I came back to check on her and to feel her despair. Johanne immediately begged that I should give her some relief.

"I'll do what you want, Lord, if you let me down here. It's unbearable."

“You probably enjoyed sucking cocks and fucking, my little witch. But first you have to admit that you have gotten involved with the devil, otherwise I'll let you sit on the hard edge of the witch's trestle for the rest of the day. With that I keep my promise not to torture you so badly anymore. So, will you confess to be a witch, Johanne? "

Her gaze showed pleading and despair, while she shook her head more resigned than determined.

"As you wish! For a witch like you, that's an appropriate seat for a lunch break."

I turned away and left. As I looked around, I saw panic in her eyes ... So it was good, I was on my way to break her will without destroying her beautiful body. Only with good persuasion you could never get a confession from a witch ... That required a lot of pain and even more despair.

I loved to see how witch girls had to ride the wooden horse, because I could pass the time relaxed while they suffered a lot from pain, hardship and despair. So I let Johanne suffer and languish on the wooden trestle for another half an hour while I went to have a beer. When I came back she whined at me that she couldn't take it any longer, and she pleaded that I should take her off the trestle.

"You have to confess first!" I harshly said to her.

“I will say everything you ask, but I am innocent. If I lie here, it is also a serious sin..."

“No excuses! You've already sinned too much. Confess now and purify your conscience!"

With more tears in her eyes she just shook her head again. She was just as stubborn as the wooden trestle she was sitting on. But she was slowly getting weaker...
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Chapter 11 – The meaning of torture and pain

I made one last attempt to break Johanne on the wooden horse, knowing that the nerves between her legs were slowly going numb. So I had to bring her back from sitting quietly to moving on the wooden trestle. To do this, I hit her tits with a long, soft bundle of whips. Always alternating from right to left, then back in the opposite direction.

She screamed but it was a delight to see her big boobs dancing and jumping wildly under my lashes. After the first dozen lashes, her tits were already burning, but I kept hitting them without a break. When she caught the second dozen blows, she just gasped and moaned. Her tits glowed, but obviously this new pain had only distracted the girl from the misery between her legs. She was crying, but Johanne still didn't want to confess. She was a really tough witch; she was a real challenge for me.

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Johanne's breasts are whipped on the wooden horse so that she not only sits, but also rides the horse properly

I allowed myself the pleasure of stretching her tortured tits from her nipples, pinching the small buds in my fingers and finally kneading and shaping her breasts as a whole with my hands. Oh how hot her boobs were and still beautifully soft and malleable in my hands.

"Stop! No more, stop!” The girl screamed desperately, but I continued to knead her hot tits vigorously with my fingers like cake batter and then clap my palms under her beautiful, soft boobs until they jumped up and down in time with my hands.

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John's breasts are pinched, stretched, kneaded while she is still sitting on the witch's trestle.

I remembered, this was only foreplay so far, for a serious torture I needed more than a whip and my hands, I needed pliers and fire...

I loosened her ropes and helped Johanne get off her wooden horse. Immediately she dropped to her knees and grabbed herself between her legs. For a moment she was exhausted, but also relieved. But soon the blood seemed to flow back into her bruised tissue and a veritable fireworks display began there. Johanne jumped up, hopped around, moaned and cried out loudly. She grabbed herself between her legs again and again while she let her tits jump up and down like mad. You could have believed that the devil would have got into her, but I knew from my sister that it was just a devilish tingling between her legs when she regained her feeling there.

I called two of the guards to get her back under control. I immediately let Johanne hang under the covers with outstretched arms for further torture and again spread her legs with a pole. Now I could attack her from all sides and everywhere.

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Johanne has to face her next torture, completely helpless

She was still moaning and trembling. It seemed to me that she was hardly susceptible to further pain at the moment, her own fire burned too much between her legs.

"Maybe it will help you to find the truth if I torture your tits and your pussy a little more severely with a hot pair of pliers."

"No, no," she yelled. "Oh, please don't! Not my pussy … not my breasts again!"

After all, Johanne reacted to a threat and she was easy to approach. I would have wanted to torture the young witch even more now ... but that had time until her pussy had calmed down so that she was ready for new pain. I released the guards.

I liked talking to a beautiful witch girl while they were tortured and suddenly I felt like it. So I took my time to explain the matter to her.

“Your guilt has already been proven by the devil's mark above your pussy, Johanne. Also, you tried to threaten me with your witchcraft here in this chamber ... You may find it nasty and vicious how I torture you; but I only do what is my duty... And it only seems to you that I'm cruel to you, but I'm not cruel ... on the contrary! I am doing you an honorable service because the pain can purify your soul."

She looked at me in surprise.

“Yes, in order to save your soul, we have to torture your sinful body until you break away from the devil and confess. He has taken hold of you deeply ... I notice how you defend yourself against the inevitable. So it's going to be a tough struggle, but I must win this fight. Only if I break your will, which is ruled by the devil, I can save your soul ... but in any case you have to admit that you are a witch!"

"And if I confess what you want to hear ... even if it's not true ... will you save me further torture and the fire at the stake?" She asked in a weak voice.

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Johanne enters into a conversation with her torturer ... better than glowing pliers!

“No ifs and buts! Confess your grave guilt and accept your punishments. As a witch you deserve the fire at the stake, there can be no mercy ... Your sinful body is always lost, we have to destroy it to free your soul from the hands of Satan, to purify and redeem your soul through much pain."

She shook her head in confusion, but I went on to explain, “The torture is only a beginning, the pyre fire must finish the work. It will be a terrible and cruel path for you, but you alone are to blame... But you can shorten your suffering by confessing now... And in the end you can be grateful that we take care of your soul."

“What if I'm innocent anyway?!” She shouted defiantly.

"You are surely not innocent ... or God will help you and he will send us a sign..."

"How can you be so sure ... If God wanted to help me, he would never have allowed all of this here..."

"Of course, God has good reasons not to help you ... because you are guilty! But you can end all of this quickly. It's very easy, you just have to say: I am a witch."

Johanne's looks showed me that she was still resisting a confession. The extremely severe pain between her legs had brought tears to her eyes, but she still looked pretty and beautiful ... too beautiful! She was a temptress ... She was a witch! Why couldn't she be ugly, that would make my job so much easier.

"Do you understand why I have to torture your pussy and breasts?"

"Because it hurts me in particular?" The girl hesitantly joined in the conversation.

“Exactly, your boobs and your pussy are the most sensitive. But there are other, important reasons to torment you right there... Think about it!"

“I don't know,” said Johanne uncertainly. "Think about it!"

"Because you particularly enjoy tormenting what makes me a woman and what causes me particular pain and great shame?"

“Yes, shaming you is also part of your embarrassing questioning. You have given yourself up to the devil, so it's only fair to shame you... It may also be true that I enjoy torturing you because of your femininity. But I am entitled to a little joy; the torture is hard work even for me! But there are much more important reasons to torture your pussy and your boobs."

She just looked at me fearfully now. "Think about it! I want you to understand what I'm doing with you!"

Johanne was visibly embarrassed to continue talking about her intimate areas, but as an executioner and torturer I continued to look at her encouragingly - and it was certainly better to talk about unpleasant things than to be tormented with hot pliers on the breasts and shame... Even if it was just a delay.

“The priest says the pubic cleft between my thighs is the place of my sin. Maybe you want to torment me where you think I’m most sinful."

"It is exactly like that! With your lustful lap you gave yourself up to the stable boy and a friend, more importantly, there you made your covenant with the devil. You seduced the village cop and the land lord and received them both in your lap in sin. Yes, your pussy has opened to men and to the devil in hideous sin. I have to punish you for that, that's why I have to torture your pussy. Do you understand that?"

Johanne sighed, but she seemed to understand. "But what about my tender breasts?"

"Think! What guilt are you hiding there? "

"I don't know, my breasts are blameless."

"Not correct! With your big tits you seduced the village cop and the land lord, you tempted young boys. Worse still, you offered them to the devil as your udders to feast him on your milk! "

“All of this is not true! I am a girl, my breasts have no milk."

"Too bad, I hoped you would finally show some insight... The devil closed your tits well, your milk just shoots out for him."

She just shook her head again. I looked sternly at the witch. "Do you understand now that I also have to pinch your teats with hot pliers?"

"Oh, no, please don't," moaned Johanne, "I beg you, not my breasts again, not my pussy, not with pliers..."

“Come on, you understand! Accept the pain to atone for your grave sins ... or confess! I'll not only bite you with pliers… I will now get the pliers and place them in the embers of the fire for you. Until they are nice and hot and glowing, you still have time to think about ... 'I am a witch'; there are only four words that I want to hear from you ... and then we forget the hot pliers in the embers. This is an offer you really shouldn't turn down."

Almost tenderly, I grabbed her right nipple and gently rolled it between my fingers. “It would really be a shame to crush this beautiful berry with glowing hot pliers, wouldn't it? But I have to do it if you refuse to confess.” I enjoyed the fear in her beautiful eyes and hoped that she understood a little better why I had to torture her in a very special way. I also hoped that Johanne was now really seriously considering a confession.

Note: In reality, executioners and torturers probably did not take the time to explain things to their victims or to have in-depth conversations with them. Likewise, they usually had much less respect for the accused and tortured witches than the kind that resonates here in the thoughts and conversations of 'Master Egbert'. I like to give victims some respect and honor, even if this story is not written from their perspective. Their fate was very hard and cruel anyway. In addition, with these conversations I want to convey something of the from today's perspective very strange thoughts of that time.
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