WitchFall

His Sinister Vengeance

As soon as the front door closed, Mathis drug me halfway across the room and to the table.

He caught my hips and tossed me atop the edge of it. I leaned back and my palms flattened on the table to balance me. Trying to stay as far from his as possible.

He caught his wig and tossed it to the side.

“What are you doing!” I cried.

“You don’t worry about that.” He lowered enough to catch the hem of my skirt between my ankles and hoist it up. Tossing it around my hips.

“Mathis!” I cried in objection.

He quickly lifted his shirt against his flat abdomen and plucked at the strings binding his breeches. Freeing them enough to lower around his hips. He reached inside and pulled his half-hardened staff from within.

I yelped and lifted my knees enough to put my feet on the edge of the table and moved to scurry backward across it. Knocking over a candle.

He tilted his head to glimpse me with my thighs spread and my knees up before giving me an appreciative look. “Quite beautiful actually. I can’t wait to feel all that softness…”

“No!”

He lunged forward and caught my hips, dragging me to the edge of the table.

I tried to maintain my footing, but they slipped off. Forcing me to sit straighter and pressing me closer against that hard bit of flesh which was suddenly pressed along my crease.

“Stop!”

Though I didn’t know a lot, I knew enough of what occurred in the stables and what made a woman a lady to be aware that if he pierced me with that, my honor would be forsaken, and I’d never be any good for a husband.

I shook my head desperately.

He tipped his hips to stroke his bit of hard flesh against my inner lips as he pulled the shoulders of my dress down to my elbow. Yanking the bodice side to side until it rested below my pert breasts. The small globes shoved upward to overhang it.

It felt as though he’d taken a hot iron to my back.

I was suddenly freezing cold. My n*****s hardened and I felt myself growing moist where he rubbed me.

“Mathis don’t. I’ll be dishonored.”

“You soon will be anyway.” He said cryptically. His green eyes intent on me as he leaned forward to press his palm to the table on each side of me.

“Better breathe.” He whispered with a smirk.

“Wh-why.”

Then I felt his hard length pressing between my lower lips and invading the softness to stretch me open for him. Filling me to brimming. A filmy barrier made him hesitate. But still looking in my eyes, he shoved through it. Making my back arch until my shoulders flattened against the table.

Next to me the tipped candle caught the cloth afire. Blooming into an orange flame as he entered me. It spread wildly and I tossed my head to look at it. Panting nervously.

“Don’t worry about that.” He waved a dismissive hand and the fire doused as if a bucket had been thrown on it.

The black hole in the tablecloth smoking haplessly.

Warlock magic.

I yelped and clawed at the tablecloth.

He growled low in his throat and stroked deeply into me. Withdrawing until only the heavy tip lingered inside. Then he eased back in. Embedding deeply again and making me gasp from the foreign feeling of being pushed open.

“What have you done?” I murmured tearfully. Though what he was doing didn’t hurt, beyond that first pulling sensation, I understood I was ruined. And I knew he would tell what he’d done to me.

This is his vengeance.

For me telling on him.

“Do you know why I’m doing this to you?” He continued methodically pressing in then pulling out and caressing the inside of me. Building the tension which seemed to roll through me in wild waves.

He began thrusting harder. Making my small breasts bounce. The flesh moving up and down in rhythm to him stuffing inside me. Suddenly my back bowed upward, and something tightened in me. Making me clench around him.

He groaned and his hips ground into the soft insides of my thighs as he began to spasm, his head falling back in pleasure as he came.

“What have you done?” I asked softly.

“Whatever I want. When I want.” He smiled down at me. Tilting his head in a way that said he was intrigued by what he saw.

Me. Sprawled over his table. Half-naked and sweating.

Giving a lopsided grin, he tossed down my skirts. Catching my forearm, he pulled me from the table onto my feet and shaking legs.

It took me a moment to steady myself. Holding the edge of the table, as I clutched at myself. Feeling a new soreness. Something I’d never experienced before.

“That will pass.” He said dispassionately. “But you may want to tuck your pretty t**s back in before I throw you down and have you a bit rougher.”

My brows drew together as I gave him a broken glance. Peeling out my bodice I obediently tucked them in. Having utterly forgotten they were out in all my misery.

He swept up his powdered wig and secured it back over his head. Adjusting the pins to secure it as his eyes flicked back toward the Dining Room doorway. “They’re back.”

“How do you know?” I whispered confusedly. Still unsure exactly what’d just happened.

“I can hear them.”

***

Mayor Marx escorted Udora in.

I still had drying tears on my cheeks as I met her look.

‘What?’ She mouthed.

I shook my head. Not wanting to answer her. I couldn’t tell her what happened.

I can’t tell anyone.

“Hmm…” Mathis strolled toward her.

And I was suddenly very afraid he’d do to her what he’d done to me.

“No!” I cried out.

“Ssh.” Mathis put a finger to his lips as he looked at me over my shoulder.

Udora was a good woman. She was young and pretty and had already caught the eye of one of the village men. By the end of the year, she’d be married and soon after she’d have a few young and live happily. She was the sweetest girl in our village.

Everyone knows that.

Mathis caught her jaw a bit more gently than he’d held mine, and slowly turned her face one way then the other. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, he made a disapproving clucking sound.

“Here, ‘tis.”

“What?” Mayor Marx asked.

“This.” Mathis pointed to a dark freckle just below her ear lobe. “The kiss of the devil. A witch’s mark.”

“No!” I lurched forward and caught Mathis’ sleeve. Whispering under my breath. “I gave you what you wanted. Let her go.”

He glanced at me over his shoulder. “I had intended to, had you not disobeyed.”

“Keep her there.” He pointed to Udora. Ordering the Mayor as he pulled me aside.

“You come to my bed. Tonight. For me to do to you as I wish. And each night after that until I tire of it, and I’ll let her go.”