This is a description of the ‘testing my limits’ day I spent with my housemate Sara on 13th May 2006.
I’ve written it up as a story continuing on from my medieval (See #01 Andreabound in the Oubliette, #09 Andreabound in the Iron Maiden and #10 Andreabound between the trees).
This story starts where the last one left off. Wrongly accused of witchcraft by the town’s magistrate, I’d been taken into the forest by the castle guards and tied between two trees to be used as their entertainment. They’d left me stretched there for the night expecting me to be awaiting their return in the morning to carry on with their games.
However, I’d managed to wriggle free of the ropes that bound me to the trees and flee into the forest; tired, hungry, thirsty and naked!
For a while I just ran blindly; desperate to be away from the scene of my rape and the possibility of recapture. Eventually though, exhaustion overcame my need to flee and I stumbled to a halt; leaning against a tree, breathing heavily and sweating freely despite the cold.
Once I’d caught my breath, I looked around me and realized with a growing horror that I was utterly lost in the rapidly darkening forest. I didn’t know where I was or even which direction I was traveling. This was hardly surprising as I had never been in the forest before in my life. Those few people I knew who had to travel through the forest on business, always stuck to the roads and like many of the villagers I’d heard endless tales of what happened to people who foolishly wandered off the road into the depths of the forest. Predictably, none of them was ever seen again and needless to say the consensus was that the forest held some unspeakable terror. I say unspeakable, but of course these tales were used to warn children of the folly of disobeying their parents and wandering off out of sight of their parents. My own parents had told me such tales to keep me in line when I had been younger. Over the years the tales had faded to a distant memory, but tonight the stories, of unwary travelers meeting a gruesome end at the hands of the denizens of the forest, came flooding back all too clearly.
I knew I had escaped one grisly end for another, perhaps even more terrifying and I sank down onto my knees weeping with the fear of it. I think it was partly the remembered horrors and torment of the previous weeks of captivity and torture as much as the unknown horrors of that night that caused huge shudders to rack my body.
Eventually, despite the fear and hunger and thirst that had a hold over my body, exhaustion won out and I slept where I lay.
I was awoken by a nearby howling and I shrank even further into the vines and creepers that surrounded the bottom of the tree where I’d fallen asleep. Then I came to my senses. I hadn’t been eaten; yet. But I would be some creature’s breakfast soon, if I didn’t move and find a way out of this dark forest.
I say dark forest but the forest seemed not quite dark. I realized the dawn was slowly approaching and the sky was noticeably lighter in one direction. At last I could tell north from south. Thinking back to my headlong rush into the thick of the forest; I didn’t have a clue as to where I had run but I knew I had left the road on the west side and I hadn’t crossed the road again. Therefore I must still be to the west of the road, so I pushed myself unsteadily to my feet and walked towards the slowly lightening sky.
After an hour or so I suddenly stumbled out of the undergrowth onto the road. I quickly backed into the tree-line as I didn’t want to be spotted in my present condition. I felt both, huge relief at reaching the road uneaten, and total anxiety at what lay next for me; I couldn’t stay on the road, I couldn’t simply follow the road home – I was a fugitive in my home town but I couldn’t follow the road out of the forest in the other direction and walk into the next town along the road without first finding food, water and something to wear. I stood there for a while, looking longingly at the road and by implication civilization, before realizing that, however unpalatable the alternatives; staying where I was, or slinking back into the forest, were not sensible options.
I would have to move along the road one way or the other. I knew I couldn’t simply return home and pretend none of this had happened; that old life was dead to me. And if I tried to return, most likely I would be dead too. So I decided to move away from my old town and towards the unknown. Maybe there, I could make a new start.
Walking through the undergrowth at the side of the road proved too slow and I knew I needed to get a move on before the road got busy with the morning’s traffic. I decided to take a risk and walk at the side of the road, ready to leap into the trees if I heard anyone coming along the road. This way I was able to make fairly good progress.
Trudging along the side of the road I fell into a better mood. The rising sun was warming my back and despite my hunger I felt more hopeful of the future than I had for several days. Then as I turned a slight bend on the road I came across an unexpected sight. There was a house; just there at the side of the road. I’d never heard stories of anyone living in the forest. Who would live here?
Approaching the house after determining there was no activity inside, I found a window slightly ajar and taking one last look around I gathered my nerve and slipped inside.
Finding myself in the kitchen I looked around for food and drink. There was plenty; and it was fresh. That meant someone must live here I thought. But right now I was too hungry and thirsty to care. I crammed as much food into my mouth as I could and chewed hungrily; interspersing bites of the delicious bread with gulps of cold water from a pitcher on the kitchen table.
Suddenly I heard a noise. Someone was walking towards the kitchen. I looked frantically around for a hiding place and spied a small pantry. I just managed to get inside it before the kitchen door opened. I peered through the gap in my door as a servant girl entered the kitchen. Luckily she didn’t notice the crumbs I had left. She was happily humming a tune as she went around her task of preparing breakfast. I watched as she cooked a meal and laid silverware on an ornamental tray. Whoever the breakfast was for, obviously lived well but I guess the size of the house should have told me that already.
Breakfast was almost complete and I was thankful I had managed to eat before being subjected to the delicious smells created that morning by the servant girl. If not I might have been tempted out of my hiding place to steal the food right from under the girl’s nose. I had worried that she might need an item from the pantry and I would have been discovered but it looked like I would remain undetected for now.
Then without warning the girl walked towards the pantry and I knew the game was up. I cast around for an escape route but there was no other way of the pantry. I felt about with my hands in the semi-darkness and my right hand closed on the handle of a pan hanging from a shelf. And so as the servant girl opened the pantry door I struck. The saucepan connected with her head and the girl slumped soundlessly to the floor. I was worried that I had killed the poor girl and bent down to check on her. With relief I saw she was still breathing, but I knew I had to get out of here fast.
There was no other choice but to take the girl’s clothes. I guess apart from the bump on the head which would hurt like mad when she regained consciousness, that she would be in a heap of trouble but my need was greater than hers and so with out delay I stripped her of her clothes and dressed myself. There was a long coarse dress with loose sleeves and a white apron with matching bonnet. I debated about the bonnet but realized it would help hide my face on the road, so I put it on, tying the strings under my chin.
I had just finished pulling the poor unconscious and now naked girl into the pantry when the kitchen door opened and an older voice called “Sara, where is the master’s breakfast. You know better than to keep him waiting”.
“Uh huh” I answered, pulling the bonnet down over my face and turning away from the door so I couldn’t be recognized. I debated with myself abut making a run for it. I looked at the door leading to the outside; it was barred and would be slow to open. I looked at the window I had used to enter the house; that too would prove to be a slow exit. I was trapped; again. There was no choice but to play along so I lifted the tray and walked towards the kitchen door.
Keeping my head down as I passed the older woman, I noticed she was wearing a similar outfit to mine. I froze; what if she wanted to engage her fellow servant in small talk? But the woman had lost interest and was moving off down the hallway, presumably to start her own duties.
What to do? I would deliver the breakfast and then return to the kitchen open the outside door and make my way to freedom. The only problem with this plan was that I didn’t know where breakfast should be delivered to. This dilemma was solved as a voice came from behind the door in front of me.
“Girl! Where is my breakfast?”
I opened the door to the room and, making sure to keep my eyes downcast and my head tilted down to ensure the bonnet hid my face, I approached the man I found sitting up in the oversized bed. I placed the breakfast tray on a small table at the side of his bed and started to back out towards the door.
“Drapes!” he shouted. “Have you forgotten your duties?”
“Sorry sir” I answered automatically and only realized my mistake as his hand grabbed my elbow and pulled me towards him.
“You’re not Sara. Who are you?” he asked reaching with his free hand to lift my chin and gain a better look at me.
I’m a new girl, sir” I answered. “Sara took sick in the night.”
His hand continued to lift my chin until my eyes were forced to meet his. Shit! It was the magistrate; what were the chances of that?
“You!” he exclaimed; the light of recognition, clear in his eyes too. I was undone. But he was obviously taken by surprise and I used the moment of confusion to break free of his grasp and make for the door.
“Mary!” he shouted and before I could reach the door it flew open and the woman I had earlier passed in the hallway was standing in my path. I continued to run at her hoping to push my way past but she was a bulky woman and moved to block my way.
I was trapped yet again. The window; I thought and started moving in that direction only to find myself captured by the magistrate who had overcome his initial shock and leapt out of bed to apprehend me. I put up a fair fight but it didn’t take the pair of them long to subdue me.
My hands were quickly bound behind my back with the sash from the drapes and the Magistrate ordered Mary to gag me to prevent me from casting a spell upon them. Fat chance! And in moments, I found myself gagged, bound hand and foot and thrown unceremoniously on the magistrate’s bed.
At that moment the servant girl I had knocked out in the kitchen lurched into the room. She saw the magistrate and, remembering her nakedness, self-consciously covered herself with her hands.
“What happened to you” Mary demanded of her. The girl looked too embarrassed to speak but the magistrate answered for her.
“She the victim of this witch’s spells; can’t you see that?” he cried. “Get her some clothes Mary, I’ll take care of this animal.”
By the time Mary and Sara returned the magistrate had dressed himself. He told the girls to take me down to the wine cellar while he finished his breakfast.
“String her up well and make sure she doesn’t speak” he told them.
I wriggled as best I could but was no match for the two women; tied up as I was. They easily bundled me out of the room, through a door in the hallway down some dusty stone steps and into a dark cellar. I was left on the floor while they lit some candles and in the flickering light I could make out the room I had been brought to.
It was a stone cellar mostly empty but with a few racks of very dusty bottles against one wall. There were various rings fixed into the other walls and the roof. I eyed these, uncomfortably. In another corner was an untidy heap of stuff it was difficult to make out from my vantage point. The older woman, Mary, went over to this corner and returned with some lengths of rough looking hemp rope. Working as a team, the women quickly had me stripped again and standing on my toes with my arms stretched far above me to a ring set in the roof.
The women stood back to look at their handiwork and I hung there for a few minutes until I heard the cellar door open and the unmistakable footsteps of the magistrate approaching.
“I’ve had enough of this witch” he said walking around me appraisingly “She’s embarrassed me by attempting to escape her inquisition. I’m going into town to summon the witch-finder general perhaps he can deal with her properly. Meanwhile you girls take care of her. Mary, I charge you do not let her speak for one moment or she will cast the most dreadful spells upon us all. Sara, you have my permission to do as you will with her. But do not mark her or kill her; that is the job of the witch-finder and we must therefore deliver this girl unmarked to him. I will be back before nightfall”.
With that he took off up the stairs and moments later I heard the heavy front door slam shut.
“Well, Sara, you heard the master” Mary said “She’s all yours; I have housework to do – it’s washing day and I can’t let the master’s clothes go unwashed. Now don’t you take that gag out no matter what, do you understand”.
Sara waited until the older woman had gone upstairs before she came forward and stood in front of me. She pulled her hair back to display an ugly bruise.
“Look what you did to me, witch bitch” she spat “I’ll pay you back for that and your spells won’t save you this time. Now you just stay there a while, I have to fetch a few things from upstairs.”
I found myself alone in the cold cellar. Candles flickering around me just made the place seem even more sinister than it probably was. I shivered anyway whether from the cold, or in anticipation of my fate, I couldn’t tell.
It wasn’t long before Sara returned carrying with her a bundle of items I couldn’t make out in the semi-darkness. She dropped the items on the floor and approached me. Taking a rope she wrapped it round one of my ankles and feeding the other end though a ring set in the floor, pulled my ankle out until my foot was no longer on the floor. I struggled to maintain my balance on one foot. Sara tied another rope around my other ankle and similarly pulled it out to a ring until I was fully suspended from my wrists. The thin rope they had used to tie my wrists so tightly dug in painfully as my whole weight hung on my arms.
“Shall we start gentle?” Sara teased approaching me with a needle she had pulled from her pile of objects on the floor. I shook my head furiously and pulled back as far as I could but stretched as tight as I was and with my ankles pulled out to the sides I couldn’t get away from her advance.
“No, no, no!” I wailed in fear, but of course all that came out was a muffled cry. Sara held my breast in one hand and, with her other hand, pressed the tip of the needle against the side of my breast. I looked down in horror. Surely she wouldn’t do this? But I was wrong and the needle pressed harder and harder against the side of my breast until it finally pierced the skin. I screamed in pain and terror as she pushed the needle through my soft flesh until it reappeared the other side. In truth, the needle only went just under my skin for half-an-inch or so before resurfacing but I had never contemplated such torture being performed on me and I was in complete shock.
The shock only lasted until Sara approached with the second needle. This time I knew what was in store and I thrashed about in my unyielding bonds and made as much noise as I could. All to no avail, as the needle entered my breast parallel to the first. Some minutes later, Sara stood back to admire her needlework skills. By this time, I had six small needles threaded into each breast; three just above my areola, and three below. I shook my breast to try and dislodge the invaders but they were firmly embedded into my breasts. I cried out “Take them out, take them out!” but again, only a muffled cry escaped my lips past the efficient gag. And again it was ignored. Sara knelt down and started to play with my pussy, using her fingers to tease my clit until I felt it enlarge.
“Looks like your witchy cunt wants some attention too” she said “maybe I can practice my tapestry skills down here”.
She let me thrash about fruitlessly for a while and waited until I’d quietened down before adding “Shame I’ve run out of needles, eh? Never mind, there’s plenty of other things I can do instead”
To my surprise I felt my ankle ropes being loosened from the rings and I was able to stand on my toes again, relieving some of the pressure on my hands. Then I was slowly lowered to the floor.
My hands immediately moved to my breasts to pull out the hated needles but I found my hands were too numb to grasp the needles. Sara merely pushed me onto my stomach and, sitting on my back, pulled my hands over my head where she began to untie them. I was too exhausted and numb to fight back and the pain of having the needles pressed into the floor was making me feel faint. I couldn’t really resist her as she pulled my hands behind my back and retied them there; even tighter than before. The thin rough hemp was biting into my hands and this was made worse by a rope that she wound around my neck and attached to my wrists; pulling them high up my back.
Sara stood up and grabbed the ropes still attached to my ankles. She threaded them back through tow rings but this time rings that were fixed to the roof far above me. Pulling slowly on the ropes she lifted my legs into the air until my weight was resting on my upper body and tied the ropes off. I wriggled around and managed to turn over so that the weight of my body wasn’t resting on my tortured breasts any more.
Then heaving on one rope at a time before tying it off and pulling on the other rope, Sara slowly hoisted me into the air. Up and up I went until I was hanging upside down with my head about a foot above the ground. Another rope went around my neck; this time, a noose. Next Sara dragged a heavy weight over from the corner of the room until it was positioned right underneath my head. The other end of my noose was threaded through a ring in the weight and pulled tight until I stated to gurgle. I was now suspended above the ground my ankles pulled far apart and my neck held fast to the floor. My hands tied uselessly behind me. At least upside down, my wrists weren’t pulling on the rope around my neck so tightly.
Now Sara approached me holding a device I recognized as a cat o’ nine tails. She swung it experimentally in front of me a few times. The whip looked short and floppy though; and I hoped it wouldn’t hurt too much. I already had a good idea of where it was going to be landing.
Sure enough after a few practice swings Sara proceeded to whip my exposed pussy. I steeled myself for the worst but strangely the cat didn’t hurt too much. I wondered what she was up to.
It was only sometime later as the gentle whipping continued that I realized her game. This wasn’t an exercise in pain it was about endurance. Sure the cat didn’t sting too much but the repeated application of the whip on the same part of my body was starting to have an effect. At first I felt a slight warming around my pussy with an occasional sharper sting when she connected with a particularly sensitive spot. But as Sara continued to whip my pussy the pain changed from warm to hot to burning to unbearable.
Over and over and over she kept hitting the same spot on my body and I began to long for her to move to other spots to inflict her torture. Of course I had no say in the matter and so the slow torture went on and on. Eventually, despite the relatively gentle blows she was landing on me I found myself contracting my body in reaction to the lashes. I tried to keep still as the effect of curling my body was to tighten the already tight noose even more. But the reaction was becoming involuntary. As try as I might, I found my body reacting in a way I couldn’t prevent. Worse: every blow made me jerk my hands toward my bottom in a futile attempt to ward off the blows. This pulled on my neck in the other direction. Was this her intention? Was this a planned part of the slow torture or just an unhappy accidental side-effect?
Whichever it was, I found the combination of growing agony on my pussy, the restriction on my neck and, the knowledge I was unable to stop any of it, too much and I could feel the most incredible orgasm building. Sara sensed it too and suddenly switched to whipping my breasts. Suddenly, the new sharper, pain overwhelmed me and my impending orgasm died.
“No pleasure for you yet my witchy friend,” she said “Pain first, pleasure later” With that, I was slowly lowered back onto the floor. Sara left one leg up in the air and, releasing the other from the ring, she tied that ankle back to my thigh. I was still unable to move, one leg held high in the air, one tied to itself, and my neck still tethered to the weight.
She left me in this position while she went back to her pile of toys and returned with a short riding crop. I had felt the sting of this before and groaned knowing what was to come.
The riding crop landed firmly on the sole of my upturned foot. Ouch, that hurt; another place I had never been struck before. I had heard the soles of the feet were a particularly sensitive place to be hit and I could vouch that the rumors were true. Over and over Sara struck my foot. I wriggled my toes as much as I could but it was impossible to prevent her blows landing on her chosen spot. Before long I was jumping around in my bonds like a demented thing the noose alternatively tightening and loosening as I squirmed wit the pain.
“Oh lie still, you baby” Sara said and pushed me over onto my front. This position just made an even easier target of my foot and the blows continued unabated. Now each time I jerked with the pain, my breasts were dragged across the rough floor. Apart from the additional searing pain this caused, I was worried the needles would catch on the floor and tear my breasts.
So I tried my best to lie completely still and eventually I managed to ride each blow so that I could remain still and not cause myself more agony.
But of course as soon as Sara realized I had mastered that particular predicament she moved her attention somewhere else. I had long ago closed my eyes to help manage the pain and so it came as a complete shock when the crop landed on my pussy instead of my foot. I yelped with pain and jerked involuntarily. The renewed application of the crop on my pussy was even worse given my pussy was still burning from the earlier attentions of the cat.
Now I was caught between needing to turn over to protect my breasts and the knowledge this would just give Sara a better target to aim for.
For a while Sara enjoyed this game as I alternatively struggled to turn onto my back and then over again onto my front and then on my back again, and so on; each time pulling the noose tighter around my neck. The crop didn’t let up for a minute through all of this and if anything the whipping got harder and faster until my screams blurred into one long uninterrupted howl.
At this Sara stopped and out down the crop. She leant over me and pulled out the needles, causing a fresh trickle of blood to flow down my breasts. Going back to her toy store she produced a long thick pole the end of which was rounded. Holding one end she maneuvered the other, until it was pressed against my tortured pussy and pushed the end past my clenched muscles.
Sara looked at me and with an evil grin said “Play time!”
In my position, there was nothing I could do to prevent her from moving the pole in and out of my pussy. It was thicker than anything I’d had in there before and was rubbing against the sore areas she’d earlier created with the cat and crop. Nevertheless, Sara knew what she was doing and before long I was humping the pole as it slid in and out of my moistening pussy. The long-awaited orgasm swept over me and, lost in my ecstasy, I almost pulled against the noose long enough to make myself unconscious.
Luckily Sara was watching for this and untied the noose. Then she started again. And again. And again.
At first it was pleasurable, the torture had got me hot and the orgasms were a welcome release from that heat. But as they just went on and on, I began to realize the orgasms were a form of torture too. Again, I could do nothing to stop this overdose of ecstasy; any more than I could have stopped the earlier pain. And of course, this knowledge just served to send me over the edge once more; adding to the agony of my enforced pleasure.
Eventually I lost count of the orgasms and must have passed out as I awoke to find myself being pulled to my feet. My legs had been tied and my arms were still not free but I managed to stand and allow myself to be moved upstairs to the magistrate’s bedroom; even if, every step on my whipped foot was pure agony.
Once upstairs I was tied spread-eagled to his bed; Sara fussing around me, slowly tightening each limb in turn until I was stretched as tight as a drum. Then she started all over again with the pole; sliding it in and out of me and alternating this with licking my pussy until I squirmed with pleasure.
I held out as long as I could but my body betrayed me and I found myself bucking in time with the onslaught of the pole. I lasted five minutes before the first orgasm overtook me. The second took even less time and, before long, I was wracked by orgasms that came in such quick succession that they blurred into one long moan of pleasure. Sara moved over me inventively licking and kissing and fondling me to keep the flow of orgasmic pleasure going as long as possible.
This time I didn’t faint but rode it all out and loved every second.
Sara stepped off me and towering over my restrained body said “I’m done with you for now witch, maybe that’ll teach you to accost a poor servant girl just doing her duties. Lie here and think on the things the witch-finder general will do to you. This day will seem like a holiday in paradise compared with what you have in store. But first I’m sure the master will like the present I’ve left for him.”
With this she left the room and shut the door, leaving me to contemplate the tortures awaiting me once the magistrate returned.