Chapter 2

The morning of my wedding day got off to a sudden and very unexpected start when I woke up in my bed to see the Witchfinder standing over me holding a gun up to my head.

"Wake up boy! You've got a wedding to go to ... yours. If I hear one word about you not marrying that pretty little young whore I'll do her the favor of making her a widow instead by splattering your brains all over this wall. Probably be doing everyone a favor actually, so don't give me even the slightest encouragement."

He meant it. I slowly got dressed in my holiday best and at close gunpoint was escorted to meet my fate.

Apparently, the Witchfinder had come in the previous night and after a nights romp with Nancy had found out two things of interest, the first of which was that I had refused to settle for his sloppy seconds, and the other fact was that Nancy was now at her fertile peak and that their next lovemaking ... with the assistance of his powers ... would ensure her immediately pregnancy. The Witchfinder was thoughtful enough to provide his girlfriend with some fool to support and raise his brats ... me!

So the plan was made to immediately get her safely married to me, and then the two lovers could safely commence their baby making — once again with me tied up to "witness the consummation."

Chesterly raced through the ceremony as fast as he could utter the words and pronounced Nancy and me man and wife without slowing down long enough to ask either one of us to say "I Do". The whole time the Witchfinder's gun was pressed up flat against the back of my head. An 'X' was signed for my name in the registry which was another insult as I can read and write just fine, but that didn't matter to anyone else.

As far as everyone else was concerned, Nancy and I were legally married — no debate ... over and done with.

The Witchfinder took every opportunity to kiss the young bride, and moments after the ceremony was final he swooped her up to go begin her honeymoon, which once again I got to witness while being tied and gagged in the chair.

My darling bride wasted no time stripping for her lover, and with contempt she pulled the wedding flowers out from her hair so she could greet her boyfriend properly by releasing and sucking his cock while on her knees and swallowing eagerly his first gushing load of semen.

The proper lovemaking this time started with a small magical ritual as Witchfinder determined that indeed his lover was ripe and ready to immediately conceive his child, which she was willing and even eager to do so. A few more candles were lit and then some oil was gently rubbed into her lower belly while his hand glowed slightly as he channeled power. The womb thus prepared, they wasted little time thereafter and over that long day he filled her cunt at least five different times with his seed.

About evening, their urges for sex temporarily sated, the Witchfinder cut my bonds loose, but he had one final indignity planned for me. Directing my attention to the sopping overflowing cunt of my bride, he directed me to clean up the mess that he had made.

"Be a good hubby now and get down between her legs and with your tongue clean up every drop of my cum from your wife. Maybe, if you're very lucky you can stop my seed from impregnating her and maybe you'll even be lucky enough to father her child yourself, someday."

His gun, once again held against the back of my head left me with no choice. He bade me to clean her out slowly, using just my tongue ... and I did so. It was no worse than eating one of Mother Turner's experiments with old half-rotten dewmelons, I told myself, and it beat the alternatives, dying or another savage pistol-whipping that would knock out some teeth for sure, or even worse. It's very hard to be brave and defiant with a gun held up to your head.

The job seemed to take forever, and hearing my 'wife' and her lover discuss how they could next tease and humiliate the "wimp cuckold" made every second seem like an eternity. At last the job was done to his satisfaction and they let me slink out of there without any other ideas for my use, such as cleaning the copious mixture of cum and my wife's juices from off of the Witchhunter's cock as well.

I retreated to my hidey-hole safely out of town and brooded plans of revenge and escape.

The Witchfinder only stayed one additional day after our wedding, making certain that he left my wife with his child growing inside of her. He announced that he would return again in the early spring to "renew his acquaintance with my bride before her pregnancy became too advanced for more fun", he added with a wink and a spur of the boots into his horse, as he galloped away.

There was no chance of getting the wedding ceremony annulled, even after I made it quite clear to everyone that I would never lay even a single finger on the whore, let alone ever properly consummate our wedding. Apparently, consummation by proxy was entirely legally acceptable. The Matrons normally did not condone divorce and certainly not in the case of a young couple with the wife already with child. The fact that it was not my child was quite irrelevant to them. Nancy was now my wife... permanently, and her things were moved into my small house.

Maybe it could have been possible to work out some sort of truce between us so that there could have been peace in the household, but it was not to be. I was angry beyond words and resolved to never speak to her in any way, and pretended that she was invisible to me. Nancy on the other hand, talked incessantly about her lover, the real father of her growing child, and how he was a better man than me in every possible way.

To rub in my humiliation, she asked Matron Garland for the chair that I had been tied up in, and placed it into the corner of her bedroom. "All ready for when my lover next visits us", she smugly announced to everyone in town, bragging how her wimp husband would be forced once again to watch her lover make a complete cuckold of him, and get valuable pointers on how a real man makes love to a woman,

This suited my plans just fine. It was only the warming thoughts of my revenge the next spring that got me through those long cold, cold winter nights.

It was very early in the spring when the Witchfinder returned to our town ... and not a day too soon as far as I was concerned. I was clearing the rocks out to clear a new patch of old topsoil when several townsmen came to gently, but firmly collect me and bring me to my house where the Witchfinder and my wife were waiting for me ... this time in the indignity of my own house.

I let them deliver me into the hands of my enemy without complaint and if they had been wary, they could have seen that for the first time in months there was a smile on my face. Once I found myself bound to my wooden prison chair to await the scorn and humiliation of my pregnant wife and her lover. I had long prepared for this day and I was exactly where I wanted to be.

I cleared my mind of thoughts of revenge and focused only upon surface impressions of anger and of my own patheticness. The Witchfinder would not concern himself with me and my tears for long, and his attentions would soon be well engaged elsewhere. Indeed my darling wife could barely restrain herself from cramming his cock into her mouth as quickly and hungrily as possible.

Soon ... oh soon!

It was so hard restraining myself, but I wanted them to finish their first real lovemaking, and for them to make their usual diatribes against me, my small farmer cock, how my wife had to go to the arms of others to be properly satisfied. Their rancor temporally sated, they would once again resume more active and energetic lovemaking that would last for hours. I would be invisible to them, unseen and virtually forgotten.

Then and only then would I act. I've been waiting months for this day, and I could wait a few more hours if necessary to act at just the right moment. My face feigns anger and shame but my heart beats slow and calmly with anticipation.

I'd made all of my preparations so very carefully these last few months. My cuckold chair of shame was big strong and sturdy, but normally my helpless prison had been carefully and secretly modified. Several old broken razor blades were taped to the bottom of the back of the chair, where my bound fingers could reach them. In moments my rope bounds could be easily cut — I'd practiced this maneuver several times until I could do it quickly and effortlessly without disturbing my rutting hosts in any way.

Their first bout of love making complete and their need to degrade me temporally sated, the lovers soon found other more interesting distractions. Soon they were not bearing me the slightest mind. It was now time to act.

Their fucking was so loud and enthusiastic that they never noticed the cut ropes slide off of me. It was even easier than I had rehearsed.

Now, my freed hands reached further under the chair where an old revolver pistol awaited my questing fingers, taped securely hidden underneath. I'd cleaned and test fired the revolver several times at my hiding place until I was 100% it would work flawlessly. This gun was one of my finest treasures rescued from an old automobile in the skeletal lap of its former owner who undoubtedly used it then to relieve his own misery. Tonight, I will use it to relieve the misery from my life.

No challenges, no gloating, no chance for my revenge to be prevented. I will fire two bullets into the back of the Witchhunter while he ruts with his whore. He will be nude, defenseless and without any protective magics prepared ... I hope. I cannot risk looking into his eyes before I fire. Shooting a man in the back is not honorable ... but neither is cuckolding a man openly at gunpoint. I know that I can live with this decision.

The gun slips right out of the tape under the chair without catching and feels warm and inviting in my hand, like it belonged there. The Witchfinder was loudly grunting and I could see a new river of semen flood out his previous load out of his whore's well-used cunt.

I fired my first two rounds without a moment's thought and the bastard came hard while he went from this world. A fitting ending.

Arising from my cockold chair I smiled while looking my whore wife in her eyes and I fired another round directly into the head of the Witchhunter ... just to make sure. T blood splatter splashed all over her covering her face and breasts and my former wife was now screaming loud enough to wake the dead.

Let her scream as much as she wants, no one will dare come or think of intervening.

Taking his combat knife from his boot, I then cut off the Witchhunters balls and prick, stuffing his balls into his blown out mouth cavity. Left in my hand was his prick with its golden jeweled cockring. It glowed in my hand, beckoning to me, offering itself for my taking. With a slight 'click' sound the ring detached itself from its previous mount and fell bare, still hot in my hand. I tossed the severed penis away onto the dirty floor and pointed my gun at Nancy. What happened next still surprises me to this day.

"Undo my pants and get my cock good and hard, whore!" I ordered her with a confidence that I had never felt before. I didn't see her as the faithless slut of wife that she was, but just a whore to be used for my temporary amusement and pleasure.

Nancy obeyed and wasted no time getting my cock at least as erect and large as her lover's had been. If she was surprised to discover that the 'boy' she had so long abused was at least as much of a man as the stranger she had thrown him over for, she didn't say. My cock was keeping her mouth nice and occupied. The late Witchfinder had certainly been improving her sexual education as it didn't take long at all for my load of cum to fill her mouth to bursting and I had to force her nose shut to make her swallow every drop.

I put the cockring into her shaking hands and ordered her with the gun to her head to put the ring into place and she obliged. I wasn't quite sure how it fit into place and was held there, but as soon as the point of the ring entered my piss hole I felt it 'come alive' and felt it expand inside me as it grew and curved out, piercing the skin under my cockhead. With another slight click, I felt it lock into place securely, forming a tight ring that penetrated and pierced my cock, with the jewel facing forward in the front.

Still rock hard, I knew just how to 'christen' my new cock decoration. Rolling the late unlamented Witchfinder off of the bed, I rolled my blood covered wife onto her hands and knees and for over the next hour proceeded to sodomize her ass while whipping her with the Witchfinders heavy leather belt until my arms were exhausted and I blew my load that felt like volcanic lava deep up into her bowels.

I had never made any final decisions concerning I would deal with my faithless wife. Most late nights while thinking over my plan, I had decided to shoot her as well, or maybe use the Witchhunter's knife on her. Sometimes some little part of me thought that it was unfair to also kill her innocent unborn child. Killing her too would have caused me no unrest of my conscience, but taking the child as well, might. Now I was having an entirely new set of second thoughts ... she was young, stupid and ambitious. None of those were sins worthy of taking her life. She had spent her life doing exactly what the Matrons had told her to do, and when they told her to do it. Maybe she hadn't really wanted to be a farmer's wife and saw this unexpected liaison as her only possible means for escape. Now things had gone as wrong as they could possibly get and I was still in a quandary about how I should complete my revenge...