WARNING! You must be 18 or over to read these stories of rape and non-consensual sex. This story is all fiction and no characters in it are meant to resemble any real person. That’s the legal part. Here’s the important part to me. This is fantasy, by the author, to be shared with readers who share in such fantasies. That is the story’s sole purpose for being here. In the real world, this sort of behavior is simply not acceptable, period, by any of the laws or morals of any humane people. That means you too. If you actually hurt someone without their informed consent, just stop. Take a deep breath and stop right now. That’s not your right. A surprising number of subs exist out there, so take the time to meet one and make your corner of the world a better place. Don’t trash two lives letting your frustrations get the better of you.
A Colonial Trial
Sarah sat awkwardly on the floor of the ice house. They’d given her a blanket, but the building was well-built, and very cold even in the summer season. The floor’s chill sucked the warmth from her bottom and her feet as she sat leaning against a wall, shivering in the darkness, waiting their return for her. It was her trial day.
Both light and sound suddenly flooded in as the thick door opened from the outside. Sarah looked up the stairs to see a contingent of townsfolk sent to fetch her, and she could hear the crowd behind them. “Up, Sarah Miller,” Joshua Glendon ordered her. “You shall go to your trial now.” Sarah knew better than to argue or resist him or anyone else. These people were all she knew, unpleasant as she found most of them. She longed to live in a large city, across the ocean, or even in Boston or New York. But such was not to be. She stood and walked on unsteady legs up the stairs.
The heat of the day hit her hard. After shivering for more than half a day in the dark, the crashing return of heat and light gave her an instant headache and her belly grew queasy at once. She stumbled and slowed, but was shoved rudely forward. Joshua’s hands were not unkind, but they were firm and strong nonetheless. They marched her to the center of the town. She saw as they approached that the public trial would be held not in the church but rather in the square. Many were gathered, some not even from her town. She was attracting outsiders’ attention.
At the center square she saw they had quickly assembled a makeshift courtroom. There was a judge’s bench, two tables with chair, and two punishments. Behind the judge, on her right, was a hangman’s noose and gallows. On her left was a set of wooden stocks. She would either dangle or she would stand with her limbs constricted, but one or the other would be her fate. She had no illusions of freedom and justice.
“The trial begins!” Joshua announced loudly, his voice reaching the entire crowd. “His most honorable magistrate Thomas Sinclair shall preside over these affairs today. For the community argues the honorable Reverend Osborne Climewater. The accused is Sarah Miller, aged twenty years, with the honorable Cadwallader Goodeman arguing for her behalf.”
“Counsels and the accuses shall be seated,” Sinclair said as he took his seat. “State the charges.”
“Sarah Miller stands accused of fornication, adultery, witchcraft, blasphemy, and theft!” Joshua announced loudly.
“The plea?”
“Innocent, your honor,” Goodeman said.
“We begin with the charge of witchcraft, which is the most serious of all,” Sinclair said. “Mr. Climewater, please state the case.”
“Honorable and good court, the accused, the unmarried Miss Sarah Miller, while being caught committing the first two of the charges listed against her, responded with curses and language befitting only one who has consorted with the Devil himself. When she calmed down and realized her error, she sought to hide her guilt with more polite language, to misdirect our attention from her initial virtual admission of guilt!”
“If the court pleases,” Goodeman said, interjecting, “Angry language during a legal apprehension is no kind of evidence. Are we to repeat the Salemers’ folly in creative collection of evidence?”
“This is not Salem,” Sinclair said. “Be wise not to insult the town, good sir.” He turned down and scribbled a note on his pad before him. “The accused will have her body checked for signs of witchcraft. We shall proceed in these matters with grace and wisdom.”
“The community wishes this check to be carried out with all haste, sir,” Climewater said. “And only by a person or persons of such repute that no question of dishonesty can come from their report!”
“We do protest!” Goodeman yelled, rising from his seat. “Sarah Miller has spent her entire life mistrusted and put upon by this town for her unconventional personality and demeanor. What single person or small group can be trusted with such a task who would not be tempted to lie and to fabricate testimony indicating witch’s marks where none exist?”
“You yourself would be present at the examination,” Sinclair stated as the townsfolk grumbled loudly.
“And the court would grant me veto power over such testimony?” Goodeman asked, inciting further murmuring from the assembled audience.
“This I would of course protest!” Climewater yelled.
“The objections on all sides are noted and considered valid,” Sinclair stated. “The examination will be done in full public view!”
“What!” Sarah cried, jumping up from her own seat. “That can’t be!”
“The accused will remain silent or find herself wearing a scold’s bridle!” Sinclair roared at her. “Public examination, being the only acceptable policy in this instance, shall begin at once. The accused will stand on the gallows platform bereft of all clothing of any kind, and all male citizens of the community and those present will step past her, examining her for witch’s marks upon her body. The bailiff will escort her up!”
Joshua approached her. She stood trembling, her heart racing. This seemed impossible. “You must do this,” he said firmly.
“Am I to be shamed?” she cried, even as her feet carried her forward. “I am a virtuous woman!”
“Not according to the charges, you are not!” Climewater shot back.
“Your honor, I protest the presence of the noose during the examination,” Goodeman said. “Sarah Miller should not be forced to stand in such proximity to a punishment she is threatened with, nor should her image to the town include a noose hanging near her head to suggest guilt!”
“The noose will invoke sympathy!” Climewater retorted.
“Then both sides agree to remove it for now,” Sinclair said. “Bailiff, remove the rope from the gallows.”
Sarah continued up the steps as if in a dream, while the townsfolk shouted and cursed her. She stood only a few feet up from the ground, but it was enough to display her like a prized hog. She was relieved, though, when Joshua removed the noose.
“If you do not strip yourself naked, I will have to,” he told her. “It is not up for argument.”
Her mouth agape, and tears rolling from her eyes, Sarah began to undress. Her fingers fumbled, but she managed to unfasten everything, though some fabric tore during her attempt. Removing the outerwear was unsettling, but as the warm breeze began to flow over bare skin, she felt herself growing faint with shame and horror. So many eyes were looking at her. Boring into her. Locked on her most intimate regions.
“Your honor, please!” she wept as she was reduced to her last bits of underwear. “No man has seen me this way since I was a baby!”
“She is accused of fornication and adultery!” Climewater shouted.
“Accused, not convicted!” Goodeman shouted back.
“The community must be certain!”
“Now you are changing up your arguments!”
“Enough!” Sinclair shouted, banging his gavel. “Prosecution?”
“The accused was apprehended in a state of reduced dress,” Climewater stated smugly. “She cannot claim modesty in front of all men.”
“Defense?”
“Sarah was apprehended partially undressed, not fully,” Goodeman said. “She was at least as covered then as now. There is no evidence that any man has ever seen her bare bosom nor her pelvic regions.”
“The issue, though, is examination of her body for witch’s marks,” Sinclair said. “The accused will strip herself completely and totally naked or it will be done to her.”
“Please!” Sarah begged.
“Now, Miss Miller!” Sinclair barked. With shaking hands, Sarah pulled off the last of her clothing. She stood there, from hair to her toes, utterly bare. Joshua gathered up her clothing and carried it off to the judge’s bench for safekeeping.
“There will be no loitering. It takes little time to check her body for the marks. Every adult male present will circle one time around the accused and look for said marks on her body,” Sinclair announced. “The accused shall keep her arms raised above her head and her feet at least two feet spread apart. Do it, Miss Miller!”
Sobbing, Sarah raised her arms and spread her legs as the mass of townfolk approached. They were men she’d known all her life. Old men she’d called mister since she learned to talk. Young men she’d known attending the school house and church as a girl. And then there were the strangers, men from out of town. Sailors. Merchants. Visitors from other towns up and down the coast. All surged forward in order to circle her and get a good, close look at her naked body. It was a small gallows. They stood just feet away. Taller men could lean forward and practically taste her nether regions.
She closed her eyes to block out the sight, and to avoid eye contact. Tears ran freely from her eyes, and snot from her nose, as she stood shamed and inspected. There were hundreds of them, come to leer at her, and it took over a half hour to cycle through them, leaving Sarah spent and exhausted. At least fifty observers claimed to find a mark, stopping the line, but Sinclair at least rejected all of them as mere body variations and not witch’s marks.
“I petition the court to allow Sarah Miller to step off the gallows and put her clothing back on,” Goodeman said.
“Objection! She could be using her powers to hide her marks,” Climewater protested. “A witch has many tricks!”
“What do you propose?” Sinclair asked.
“She should remain unclothed at least for the duration of the trial, and preferably for the duration of her sentence!” he shouted. He pointed at her. “Right there, up where she can hide nothing from us!”
“Oh Lord!” Sarah cried.
“Calm down, counsel,” Sinclair said. “The accused shall remain undressed for the time being, but shall be allowed to rejoin her counsel at her table, seated.”
“Come with me,” Joshua said, holding out his hand. He guided her down the steps and back to her seat where she gratefully sat, though the feel of wood on her bare butt was disconcerting at the least.
“At present, the charge of witchcraft is not substantiated,” Sinclair said. In the absence of further evidence, the charge will eventually be dismissed. What of the charges of blasphemy?”
“She used unclean curses during her apprehension, your honor,” Climewater stated. “They are written here.”
“Approach and show me that document,” Sinclair said. He began reading. “Damn you all to hell. Rot in hell. God damn you. Your God is a bastard?” His eyebrow rose on the last item.
“Only after one of the constables told her, and I quote, ‘The God I know smites an adulteress. What about yours?’” Goodeman replied.
Sinclair nodded and continued. “I’ll see you all in hell. God will smite you. Rot in hell, again. And again.” He set the paper down. “Counsel, really?”
“All verified and uncontested,” Climewater replied.
“And irrelevant. I’ve heard worse dining at the tavern. The charge of blasphemy is dismissed. The charge of witchcraft will be dismissed unless a witch’s mark is found on Sarah Miller’s naked body during the time of her enforced nudity. That time will end either with her exoneration, or at the conclusion of whatever punishment she is sentenced to.”
Sarah gasped but kept her mouth shut. She knew she would never be exonerated. That meant time in the public stocks, naked, or being hung, naked.
“Moving on, there is the matter of adultery. But I see no name listed for who she is supposed to have fornicated with. Is this an error?”
“The, uh, male miscreant ran off into the night, your honor,” Climewater stated. “He was never identified. Miss Miller has refused all directives to provide that name.”
“Well I don’t wish to belabor that point forever. Sarah Miller, I am ordering you to provide the name of the man you were caught having unlawful sexual relations with,” Sinclair stated.
“I committed no breach, your honor,” she said.
“Stand up!” Sinclair barked. Sarah nervously stood, exposing herself once again to a larger crowd.
“I committed no breach, your honor,” she repeated.
“Your honor, I remind the court that Sarah was not found completely undressed. Her most private areas were still covered.”
“They could have already finished,” Climewater stated.
“I’ve never been with a man!” she cried.
“Stop, everyone. Stop!” Sinclair said. “Miss Miller, are you refusing my order to provide that name?”
“I’m saying nothing, your honor!” she sobbed.
“Then you are guilty, at least, of contempt of court. The charge of adultery is dropped, for lack of evidence that the man was married. But for contempt of court, you will spend one full calendar day in the stock provided.”
Sarah felt like she’d been hit by a raging bull. It knocked the breath out of her. She’d known it was coming, but now it was real. A day. At least one day and maybe more. Locked hand and foot in the stocks, stark naked, in public. Surrounded by people, men, women, small and vicious children even, looking at her naked, mocking her naked. Maybe even beating her naked.
“I request the court drop the charge of fornication!” Goodeman stated. “There is no way to prove Sarah Miller committed the crime or not!”
“She claims to be virginal!” Climewater shouted back. “I contend there is a clear way to check her claim, by the examination by touch of the inside of her vagina! And only the examination by the entire town can suffice for full honesty and integrity of the outcome!”
“No!” she screamed, starting to look around for a way to flee. It was all too much. Too nightmarish. Such a violation seemed impossible. Sinclair couldn’t really agree to it.
“Agreed,” Sinclair said. “Miss Miller will stand before this bench and make her vagina available for physical touch inside, by every adult male present here. She will keep her arms above her head to avoid interference, and she will keep her legs spread as before to provide good access.”
“Your honor, this is outrageous!” Goodeman said. “An overly zealous spectator is bound to take it upon himself to break her maidenhead and accuse her on that false evidence!”
Sinclair paused to consider Goodeman’s words. “I shall go first,” he finally said. “Then you, then Mr. Climewater, and then our bailiff Mr. Glendon. All in full view of one another. And then the males of the gallery will take their turns. But I assure anyone thinking of mischief that if I catch anyone breaking an intact maidenhead, I will have that person hung. Further, on withdrawing his fingers from Sarah Miller’s vagina, he shall show his fingers to the accused herself, and then to both counsels and to myself. Sarah Miller, you are ordered to keep your eyes open so that you might participate in this portion of your own defense. Failure to look at any man examining you will be treated as evidence of your guilt. Do you understand? Do you understand me?” he nearly shouted, as Sarah’s crying made her hesitate to answer.
Sarah walked as a zombie to the spot on the grass in front of the bench, facing the audience. She winced and wept as Sinclair pushed two fingers into her vagina while she had to stand there, arms raised and legs spread. He poked at her. She could feel him. Then he pulled out and showed her his fingers, clean of any blood. The two counsels were next, though Climewater scowled as he pushed almost too hard. She was by then thoroughly revolted by these old men, and Joshua’s fingers were the most humiliating to take, gentle though they were.
“The preliminary result is that the accused is virginal!” Sinclair announced. “We shall now have universal affirmation of this fact, and I remind everyone of my warnings against cheating!” For over an hour, Sarah stood unmoving but for her trembling as man after man stuck his fingers into her vagina. Long, short, thick, it didn’t matter. Some were even remarkably cold given the weather, but they went up into her all the same. She was a shaking wretch by the time it was done and she was allowed to be seated again.
“The charge of fornication is dropped, though the court does believe Sarah Miller intended to fornicate at the time of her arrest,” Sinclair said. “That brings us to theft. Mr. Climewater?”
“Your honor, the accused is of a very low reputation, and it is on record that the court believes she attempted adultery, which is a crime against man and God. There have been many unsolved thefts in our town.”
“Mr. Climewater, is that really your best argument?” Sinclair asked.
“The accused was arrested in a room above the gem cutter’s shop owned by Samuel Wilson, less than a day after Wilson reported a significant theft of cut and polished gems worth over one thousand pounds. Clearly the accused or her paramour had the opportunity and ability to enter that building without permission.”
“Irrelevant, your honor!” Goodeman interrupted. “Sarah Miller was searched, as was her domicile. No contraband was found!”
“She hid them well, or her partner did. I ask that Sarah Miller again be compelled to name her accomplice in fornication, under penalty of a year in the stocks if she again refuses!”
“This is very serious,” Sinclair said. “Sarah, under penalty of an additional four days in the stocks for refusal to answer, I direct you to name your accomplice at this time!”
“I, I, no!” she wept.
“The sentence of four additional days in the stocks is noted,” Sinclair said. “Continue.”
“Your honor, Miss Sarah Miller, already a fallen woman of ill repute, was not completely searched! These gemstones were small, and could easily be hidden in her anus! I want all willing volunteers in the audience right now to be allowed to visually and/or physically inspect the inside of her rectum, in public, for evidence that she hid the gems there!”
Sarah cried out loudly, unable to even form words. She sobbed again, sitting on the chair, shaking, weeping loudly, as hundreds of people pondered her lurid fate.
“Well, um, this is most unusual,” Sinclair muttered, looking taken aback for once.
“Justice, your honor, justice demands it!” Climewater shouted. He stood up and pointed to Sarah, sitting alone and weeping at her seat. “Is that creature, that fornicator and low-life to be allowed to steal from our community with impunity?” He was shaking and red-faced with seeming rage. “Shall we allow sluts and whores to rob us blind?”
“This is important,” Sinclair agreed. For the first time Sarah considered saying her partner’s name, just to end the spectacle. She was tempted. But watching the crowd turn on him, probably to rip him to shreds, was too much. She tried to pretend he couldn’t see her even then. “Very well. The accused, Sarah Miller, will be fitted with an anal speculum and bent over to allow visual examination of her anus. All adult males will make a visual inspection. All volunteers may also make a tactile inspection if they so wish. Recess is ordered while an anal speculum is obtained.”
“No need, your honor! I have one right here!” Climewater said with a wide grin.
“Indeed,” Sinclair said slowly. “What luck.”
“Judge, you can’t do this to me!” Sarah cried. “You just can’t do this! It’s just not right!”
“Be silent!” Sinclair roared. “I decide what’s right!”
“Then your decisions are as corrupt as this town!” she screamed.
“Enough! I order Sarah Miller to wear a scold’s bridle, except when she is called to testify, until the end of her sentence.”
“I have one with me, your honor,” Climewater said.
“Then fit it on the girl!” Sinclair snapped. “Lest we be subjected to any more outbursts!”
“I’ll do it,” Joshua said. “’Tis my duty.”
“Step aside, boy, I’ll do it myself!” Climewater snapped. “Hold her. Hold her still, damn you!”
Joshua was almost reluctant to hold her, but did so while Climewater fastened the metal head harness around her skull, forcing the steel bit into her mouth and over her tongue. The sharp spikes quickly convinced her to hold her tongue still or have it cut.
Then they bent her over and Climewater pushed the speculum into her anus. As he adjusted the screws, Sarah cried out incoherently as she felt the edges parting her hole wider and wider. Soon it hurt. Then it was excruciating, making her scream. And then, finally, it was done expanding.
“Very well, begin the inspection now,” Sinclair said loudly as the people surged forward. A reflecting mirror shone sunlight into her anus as man after man went past her to peer inside her bowels. Perhaps one in five stuck his fingers into her and roamed around her innards, seeking gems that weren’t there. A horrid hour later it was over. The speculum came out but the scold’s bridle remained as her only adornment.
“Very well. This court has heard enough. It is not proven that the accused is a thief. The charges of theft are dropped. The charge of witchcraft will remain open until five days have passed and Sarah Miller has completed her time in the stocks. Bailiff, secure the girl to the stocks!”
Sarah rose on rubbery legs as Joshua guided her to the newly-built framework. She was forced to stand with her legs parted wide. Her feet were almost three feet apart. She had to bend over and put her necks and wrists into holding holes that were locked down around her. She just stood there, staring through her tears at the spot on the ground that would be her view for the next five days. She just stood there, senses and wits dulled, wondering what had happened.
“Your honor, I request a guard be placed nearby to secure the accused honor against impure defilement!” Goodeman shouted over the crowd.
“Denied,” Sinclair said. “Let her own family look out for her interests.”
Sarah heard it all. Her own family, that was a laugh. Most refused to talk to her, and the rest used only epithets. In the hours left of the afternoon, the town square remained full and busy, with people surging all around her as she stood. It took about a half hour for the first projectile to hit her. A piece of rotten fruit, a tomato. She never saw her assailant, but his aim was good, striking one of her large, dangling breasts on her left side, setting her tit swaying for a few seconds.
But it was the coming darkness she feared most. There would be nothing to stop anyone from coming at her. From raping her. It was unstoppable at that point, she knew it.
Sometime well after dark it happened. She heard the footsteps behind her just seconds before she felt the hands on her hips and the unfamiliar, hot pressing of flesh to her crotch. She’d wanted so desperately for her first time to be with her chosen lover, and the worst bad luck in the world had derailed it. All afternoon she’d watched for some sign that her would-be lover was watching over her, protecting her perhaps. He was a strong and strong-willed man, but was it fair to expect him to do everything? To defy the whole might of the town? He had to play along and wait for time.
But now, unless that was him behind her, she would lose her virginity to some other man. The hot penis pushed its way into her. She gasped and shook. It felt good. It felt like what she’d wanted. But it was the wrong man. It was an anonymous man, mostly likely one who would rape her and walk away from her. She had no way to look behind her, nor could she even speak to ask him.
“Uh, uh,” he grunted, pounding at her womanhood. She cried, shamed and hurting. The bursting of her maidenhead was brief but intense, putting to lie all the examinations earlier. She was wet. It was actually mostly true. She was wanton. She was whorish, by the standards of her town. She just hadn’t had the chance to act it out yet. Now she just had to stand and take it, and her own wishes and actions mattered for nothing.
He finished the rape. It had lasted at least ten minutes, during which Sarah tried not to cry out lest she cut her tongue on the bridle. She felt hot fluids deep inside her. It should have been wonderful. But it was definitely gross, in its own way. She knew what it was, having one time and one time only given her lover an oral pleasuring. But this was different. It was supposed to be special. Well, maybe it was special for the guy behind her. Unless it was her lover playing games on her, which was possible. She pretended it was him. Pretended it was his strong hands on her and firm manhood in her.
She heard the sounds of him fixing his clothing. Was he going to walk away? It would be safer, or would it? Who would believe her if she reported being raped? Actually, everyone probably would. But no one would care. Not about her. Such was her standing.
But he walked around the stocks. She strained to see him as he came into view, but his face was in shadow with the moon behind him. She made a sound. Not a word, lest she move her tongue on the spikes, but a sound. An imploring sound. And he moved, and she caught his face.
Osborne Climewater himself stood over her, grinning down. He touched her cheek, as if to caress her. “Oh, the demands put upon the town reverend,” he said.
Sarah nearly cried out in relief. It was him at last. She hadn’t lost her virginity to a stranger after all!
“For a moment, I was afraid Tom really would put you in here for a year and a day,” he said. “Good thing cooler heads prevailed, huh? Not that you wouldn’t have looked cute in this contraption all winter long.” She tried to smile.
“Yeah, we fucked it up royally,” he said. “But I won’t abandon you. The next five days are going to be rough on you. I guess your fantasy of sex with many men will come true. But don’t worry about me. I’ll wait, and then we’ll leave this festering sewer behind us. Those gems, they’re really worth over three thousand pounds. We’ll be set up for a life of modest luxury, somewhere down in the West Indies I expect.” Sarah smiled again.
“You really were surprised today, weren’t you?” he asked, and she nodded. “Well, I know how you’ve talked. Try to pretend it was arranged. It kind of was. I’ll make sure the dirtier vagrants are kept off the square. But as I can’t afford to be seen here, I bid you good night, and good sex.” He leaned down to kiss her through the scold’s bridle and then was gone. Sarah sighed. It was going to be a long five days, but probably a worthwhile one.
