Chapter 3

The possession of her body by the malevolent witch was an accomplished deed by the time that Bonnie decided she would marry the minister and make a home for him and his lovely daughter. She had discovered that the man of the cloth had the ability to carry her to the apex of orgasm in any of her openings and she did not want to lose his attentions to some other man-chasing widow with a mean-spirited nature.

She still was submissive to the Master at Arms who regularly beat her backside red in front of the prisoners to further degrade her sensitivities. He had no idea that the evil witch inside her found his depravity refreshing in a land of petty perverts.

Bonnie held the opposite side of the wooden table tightly so she would not slip when the Master applied his much-feared cane with unerring accuracy on her tender bottom. She was forced to sob with the passion of tortured flanks and the knowledge that a dozen men were watching her disgrace. She also was fully aware that the final torment was yet to come when the enforcer of law would stretch her nether hole with his monstrous tool of "Justice". He had given her justice on numerous occasions and she was astonished at the way he was able to maintain a hard erection for so long a period of time. Many times she had gone into the final throes of orgasm with multiple explosions whilst he pounded away non-stop to the cheers of the troublemakers incarcerated in the jail.

She didn't look over her shoulder because she knew the Master did not want to see her face when he was inserting his tool into defenseless brown eyes. He liked to stay focused on the objective and watch the entire operation as her sphincter was forced to open in helpless surrender. The prisoners were laughing at her discomfort and the sight of their laughing faces made her ashamed for the fact she was enjoying the session too much for her own good. The ancient witch hidden deep inside her core loved this kind of play and she was tingling with pleasure from the top of her scalp to her toenails.

It was difficult for Bonnie to adjust to the thought that she might marry the widowed minister and become a family with him and his teenaged daughter. In fact, she was not that much older than the daughter and the father had mistaken her rump for his daughter's on a dark night. Not that he was taking advantage of the young girl, just being familiar in the closeness of a darkened room. She knew he had a bit of a fixation on the daughter and it didn't bother her at all to call him "Daddy" when the lights were out. At this point, Bonnie knew that the two personas had merged into one and in many respects the resulting personality was superior to either party. It was true that the witch was powerful, but Bonnie had a strong personality of her own and it went back generations into the mystical beginnings of the region and the beliefs of the "Old Ones" ones who had knowledge of secrets that remained unseen for hundreds of years. She felt that the new Bonnie was more Bonnie than witch and she did her best to control the impulses of the mean-spirited witch and direct her attentions to the demands of being successful in a society that valued power and wealth more than goodness and idealistic intentions.

Young Emma knew there was a change in the relationship of her new friend Bonnie and her father but she was not certain of the extent of their ardor. She pretended to be sound asleep one night and listened to her father mounting the pretty maid and silently pounding her until she was forced to sigh and whimper her sweet surrender. It was what the young girl needed to confirm their union.

The marriage bans were announced the following Sunday and the Master at Arms laughed out loud in the back of the church. Bonnie's face was red and several of the previously incarcerated males smiled behind their hands knowing her service to the Master was common knowledge.

Emma was overjoyed and she baked a cake to celebrate the announcement. It was a delicious cake even if she ran out of the oil and had to use butter. The father snuck into the girl's bedroom and anointed Bonnie's backside with his sticky emission tiptoeing back outside so as not to wake up the daughter. After Bonnie cleaned up the evidence, the younger girl slipped into her bed and snuggled up tight to her bosom. Eventually, they became intertwined like lovers and scissored their legs into a happy massage of feminine folds. It was something entirely novel for Bonnie but the crafty witch of yesteryear knew the way of these things with her extensive experience in midnight covens under the light of the moon. She guided Bonnie's movements with sensuous control and the young girl fell into a swoon of contentment that knew no bounds.