Sir John’s Fancy
by Belisarius

As he entered the tap-room Sir John’s nose wrinkled and he reached into his sleeve for his handkerchief. The smell was; as usual, of sour beer and even sourer piss. His eyes were soon taken by the sight of a young woman, barefooted and wearing a thin, none too clean, shift, under which she shivered uncontrollably.

“Has this girl eaten this morning?” he asked severely.

“Ye mean the witch, sir,” said Garside, the village constable.

“No, I mean this young girl, whether she’s a witch or not has yet to be decided. Bring her some breakfast and something warmer to wear.”

“Ah, well, Sir John, we’s thinkin’…….”

“I couldn’t care less what you’re thinking and I’ve told you what to do, am I to repeat myself?”

For the first time the girl looked up at him, though her face showed no gratitude. He could see that she was very beautiful, with wonderful raven hair, a body shaped by angels and long, slender legs.

“She’s a witch, Sir John, she don’t deserve no breakfast nor nothin’ ‘cept hangin’,” put in one of the village crones.

“Madam, I am the magistrate here, I will decide whether this should go further…. Or not, as the case may be.”

The inhabitants of the inn grumbled in the background as Sir John Curtis, Bt, raised the girl to her feet and led her gently to a nearby chair.

The constable returned with some cold porridge and a hunk of very inferior bread.

Stale and cold or not, the girl devoured the food rapidly and swallowed great gulps of the small-beer which had been brought with it.

Once the accused had eaten, Sir John called the court to order, “Very well, let us begin, firstly child, what is your name and are you of this village?”

“Aye, sir, I’m from here, but I wish I weren’t and I am Jane Lee, daughter of Samuel Lee, once the miller, out by the bridge.”

“An’ he was no good either,” shouted a voice from the crowd.

“Yeah, a cheating thief…. “

“Always weighed short measure….”

The accusations rang around the room.

“Silence, this session will be carried out in good, fair order, or I’ll know the reason why not.”

The crowd stirred but nothing more was heard from them.

“Who accuses this woman of witchcraft?” asked the magistrate.

From the shadows at the back of the room a tall, thin faced man, completely dressed in black pushed himself forward.

“You’re not of this village, so who are you?”

Thomas Andrews, sir, witchfinder.”

“We’ve had no one of that ilk here since the war.”

“I have the honour, sir, of carrying on the work of the great Matthew Hopkins – the Witchfinder-General.”

Sir John groaned inwardly, this, he decided, was going to be more complicated than he had thought. “All right,” he said wearily, “What precisely is the prisoner accused of.”

“I call my first witness,” said Andrews, “James Martin, come forward.”

One of the crowd stepped forward clutching his hat nervously.

“You are Martin?”

“Aye, sir, Ye’ve known me many a year.”

“Yes, I know that, but we’re in court on the business of His Majesty, so what is your evidence?”

“Ah saw Jane Lee,” Miller pointed at the accused, his eyes widening as he spoke,” Ah saw ‘er of a midnight, she we’re on the roof of ‘er cottage…. She we’re wi’ a black cat.”

An onlooker swooned and someone shouted, “Aye, it’d be ‘er familiar…..”

“Black cats are an unfamiliar sight around this village, I suppose,” the baronet tried hard to keep the sarcasm from his tone, but failed.

“Aye, sir, black as pitch ‘twas…..”

“It’s scream was horrible to hear, sir……”

“Aye like the gates of Hell openin’…….”

The courtroom erupted with the sound of everyone wanting to add their comments.

“And then what happened?” asked the magistrate once he’d brought the court back to order, which took a minute or two.

“She flew off, sir, like a bird, a big, black as Satan, bird.”

“Flew off, eh, well, as far as I’m aware England has no laws against flying.”

“She flew off towards the moon, sir, an disappeared into it.”

Sir John shook his head, “Have you any tangible evidence, Master Andrews? If not I’ll close this case now.”

“Yes, sir, she gave divers persons potions to cure them of the gripe but it did nothin’ but make their hearts burn. Burn like fire, sir……”

The magistrate turned to the accused, “Have you anything to say about this?”

Jane sat quietly for a moment and then said softly, “Aye, sir, I gave them nothin’ but a concoction of herbs, mainly sage and rosemary. I’ve given it a hundred times afore an’ everyone bin grateful…… Till now, till ‘ee’s come,” she pointed at the witchfinder.

“I can find no fault with this woman…..” began Sir John, however, he was soon interrupted.

“Sir, at least, she should be examined more closely, to be sure she’s innocent.”

“You’ll be wanting her bound and thrown in the river next,” accused the magistrate.

“No, sir, no, we just need a mite more time to be sure of her.”

John Curtis didn’t know what to do. Though the girl was probably somewhat fey, he felt sure that the whole accusation was rubbish, for he didn’t believe that any such fiends as witches existed. However, the court was a buzz as most of the population had taken bees into their collective bonnets. He had to remember that the men here weren’t slaves, it was true that they were mainly his tenants, but they were English yeomen and when roused they were not a body to be taken lightly – as the first Charles had found out to his cost and his son; the current James, would also discover if he continued to press for a return to Popery.

“Very, well, we’ll keep the girl in custody until tomorrow morning at ten.”

“Thank you, sir,” said a smiling Thomas Andrews.

“Mind, she’s to come to no harm, keep her warm and fed and comfortably housed,” ordered the magistrate before he left the inn.

* * *

Sir John Curtis, baronet, finished his supper and planned to enjoy an hour or two in his library before retiring, however, he felt uneasy. He knew not why he felt so, but he did. The young Jane Lee kept filling his mind with her dark eyes and very red lips, he wasn’t sure that he should have left her to the care of Andrews and Garside.

He downed the last of his claret and decided to return to the village to be sure that all was well there.

Half an hour later he dismounted at the door of Garside, the village constable, and quietly entered that man’s cottage.

Andrews was there holding in his right hand a birch cane, “Now, bitch, ye’ll confess or ye’ll have another taste of this.”

Before him, naked and bound on to the table, knelt Jane Lee. Her eyes showed her fear and her head was encased in a scold’s bridle, made of lengths of iron part of which was a hinged piece which kept her mouth open and her tongue down, little barbs lined the bottom of this section to discourage movement, causing little trickles of blood to seep from the corners of her mouth.

“She won’t be able to confess much with that thing around her head,” the magistrates voice was calm and cold.

Garside jumped backwards as though scalded, “Sir John……,” he stuttered.

Andrews remained calm, “Just trying to save some time in the morning, sir, this treatment usually brings out the truth,”

“Torture, has not been legal in this country for many years and so such confessions so obtained cannot stand in law.”

“Mgghhhhhh…., Ahhhhhh…..,” the prisoner moaned and writhed in her bonds. She had been placed in the centre of the table, her ankles were crossed and tethered to the table legs, ropes from her slightly spread thighs led to the opposite legs. Her arms were pinioned together and from her wrists a further cord had been thrown over a beam placing her in a painful strappado. Her bonds were tight forcing her flesh to fill our on either side of the cords and her breast hung swaying and glossy with glistening sweat.

As he glanced at the shadowy cleavage of her bottom and the darker hint of the opening of her sex, Sir John noticed, with some dismay, that his member was stiffening and increasingly so when he saw that her breasts had also been severely tied with thin string so that her nipples were nearly as erect as his cock felt.

“Untie her and allow her to cover her nakedness.”

“Please, sir….. All is not as it seems…..,” pleaded Garside whilst Andrews stood by impassively, his arms folded across his chest.

“It all seems very clear to me and I can tell you that your days as constable are near to ending.”

At this the Garside clasped his hands together, “Please, Sir John, I give my word, this is not what you think.”

“I know that I gave clear orders that this girl was to be treated well and when I return; unexpectedly I might say, I find her being put to the torture. Well, I’ll not have it, fetch the carter and bring her along to the manor.”

“Yes, sir, certainly, sir,” cried Garside obsequiously, hoping to mend his fences.

The witchfinder stepped forward, “You make a grave mistake here, sir, the girl is unholy, I’ve seen it with my own eyes, I swear I have, her lewdness goes beyond anything I’ve seen before.”

Sir John turned from the doorway, “Rubbish, she’s a slip of a lass who’s given ignorant folk stomach aches with her herbal remedies and no more than that.”

“That’s not how the village’ll judge it tomorrow, if you set her free.”

“You won’t be here to see it, leave at once and do not interfere with my people on your way,” replied the baronet before shouting, “Constable, see him away from here, make sure he goes, your position depends upon it.”

An hour later, as he was sipping appreciatively a glass of madeira, Sir John heard the carter arrive and a short while later Garside, the carter and Jane Lee were brought before him.

“Ah don’t know where t’put this lass, Sir John,” said Mistress Hadley, his housekeeper, looking Jane up and down with an expression that reminded him of the last time he’d tasted sour milk.

“Servants’ quarters, perhaps?” he suggested mildly.

“No, room, sir, none at all. Ah were thinkin’ maybe the barn.”

“No, it’s too cold and she’s suffered enough already. Give her my mother’s old room.”

Mistress Hadley’s hands covered her cheeks even at the thought of it, “Why, sir, that’s a proper lady’s room….,” she gestured towards Jane, “…’ this aint no lady, sir, no, nor never will be.”

John Curtis rose to his feet, “Perhaps not, Mistress Hadley, but I’m master here, the girl will spend the night in the room I’ve specified. A fire will be made up, a warming pan placed between clean, linen sheets and the girl is to be bathed and fed. Do I make myself clear?”

The housekeeper had once bounced her master on her knee, watched him grow up and knew that when he used the tone of voice he just had there was only one thing to do – jump to it.

“Yes, Sir John, as you say.”

The baronet smiled kindly at the witch girl and shooed her away.

* * *

It was two or three o’clock in the morning when John Curtis became aware that he was not alone in his bed. He turned over with a start and came face to face with Jane Lee.

“For Heaven’s sake, girl, what are you doing here?”

Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight which flooded the room, making them look as bright as newly minted silver coins, “I come t’say thank- ‘ee, sir.”

“Good, well, that’s all right, but you’d best return to your room.”

“Ah’ve never had such a room, sir, all warm an’ cosy an’ the bed so soft an’ clean……”

“Yes, I’m pleased you are comfortable, now……..”

His words were cut short as he felt her hand push up his nightshirt and begin to caress his cock, which immediately showed interest.

“Stop….. Jane, stop…….” His cries became fainter as he felt her mouth close around the top of his penis and her tongue began to make short circular movements.

“Y’like that, sir,” she took a breath from her labours before quickly beginning work on him again, his member becoming thicker and longer with every caress of her mouth.

The baronet lay back and gave in to his lust, his mouth open and his breath coming in short, expressive pants.

At last he came and he could hear the sound of her as she swallowed his cum.

What could he do now, he thought, he’d just engaged with a girl, well below his station, in a lewd act. It wasn’t unusual for men of his class to take village girls and servants into their beds, but it wasn’t his way.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last, feeling embarrassed.

“Ah’m a bad, wicked, girl, sir……..,” she said and then began to howl.

“Shhhhh….. Please, be quiet, Jane…. The whole house’ll hear.”

“No, Ah can’t, sir, Ah’m so evil…. What they say’s true….. Ah’m bad, very bad… Ah should ha’ left y’alone.”

He took her in his arms and she cleft tightly to him, the warmth and softness of her body made him feel like not letting her go.

After a while he heard her sobbing, “There, there, Jane, don’t worry, you’ve nothing to fear from the court – or the village for that matter.”

“It’s not that, sir, Ah done wrong, done wrong again.”

The baronet remembered how her tongue had brought a depth of pleasure that he hadn’t known existed, “Never, mind, nothing too bad has happened……..”

“Ah must be punished, the Good Book says sinners must be punished…….”

“No, not necessarily …. Try reading the New Testament instead of the Old.”

“It’d no good, sir, Ah can’t read, but even if Ah could, I still need to be punished,” She widened her eyes and stared into his, “…… Will ye punish me, Sir John? Ah know ye’d teach me better ways…..”

“Me! No, girl, I couldn’t….”

“Take me out t’the barn, bind and tie me to a post and hurt me, please, I need to be hurt, please, sir, please, ‘tis the only way Ah can get forgiveness,” she broke down and began to sob loudly.

As she spoke visions of this beautiful creature, naked, bound and at his mercy flooded into his brain in bright, basic colours and he found that he was very much tempted to let the lass have her way, but common sense eventually guided him, “No, Jane, it’s impossible…..”

“But, ye’d like t’hurt me, sir, Ah know thee would.”

“The barn will be freezing cold, every servant in the house would be aware of what was going on…..”

She broke into sobs again, “Oh, oh, I know what’ll ‘appen, ye’ll send me away…. away to prison for bein’ so lewd an’ bad….”

He took her in his arms, “No, never fear that…..”

“Ye’ll take me t’the court an’ they’ll want me hung……”

He made up his mind, “You’ve no case to answer, you will not need to return to the village.”

She showered him with kisses and her fingers began to approach his penis again, but he took her wrist and held it firmly.

She began to howl, “You’re goin’ t’send me away, aren’t you, sir. Ye don’t want a dirty, rude, lass wi’ ye. Ah can sense it, an’ this is the first place Ah’ve felt safe an’ cosy an’ warm.”

“Shhhh…, shhhhh…., Don’t take on so, quiet now, you’ll not be leaving here…..”

“Ye promise? On your word…. As a gentleman?”

She was staring up at him, her black hair framing her face and her eyes glistening with shining teardrops.

He took her in his arms and she folded herself into him, he kissed her hard and his kisses were fervently returned. She began to writhe, using her pelvis to thrust herself into his awakening cock. Before he knew it his fingers were all over her breasts and had made their way down to her moist opening.

“Ohhhh…., Ohhhh….., sir, Ah’ve never felt the like o’ this before,” she moaned and pushed herself on to him with even greater force.

Though he felt instinctively that what he was about to do would change his life, he couldn’t shake off her spell; and he was sure that that was what it was, he rolled on top of her and allowed her fingers to lead his penis deep into her. There followed the most pleasurable ten minutes he’d ever enjoyed in his life.

* * *

The court convened again the following morning at ten-o’-clock, he took his seat, looked straight at the jurymen and said, “The girl, Jane Lee, has no case to answer, it is, therefore, dismissed.”

He was surprised to see that there was no reaction from the villagers, in fact he sensed a feeling of relief.

“Ah’ll write up the verdict, as usual, Sir John,” said Garside quietly, as the spectators filed out, “Before I quit my post.”

“As to that, I probably acted somewhat in haste…..”

Garside beamed, “Thank ‘ee, sir. We all knew that Jane is no more a witch than I am…. Though she is a bit different……”

“In what way?”

“Can I explain, man to man, like?”

“Explain in any way you wish.”

“Well, that torture session, sir. It looked bad, o’ course it did, but the fact is, Jane likes it.”

“To be tortured?”

“Well, not too severely, sir. It started as a joke on St. Stephen’s feast day a year or two ago. We tied her up an’…. well, one thing led to another.”

“A joke, you say?”

“Since then, every now and again, she joins a group o’ us, for the fun of it, and…… well, ye saw what we were up to.”

“What about the damned witchfinder? What was his part.”

Garside blew out his cheeks, “He came upon us, at the inn, sir, an’ took the whole thing seriously. Then, last night, he began to hurt Jane much more than our intentions would ha’ been. We we’re all pleased that you turned up and took her to safety.”

“I see. So, she likes being tied up and tortured, but not too severely?”

“That’s it….. Ye’ll not mention it to our wives, will ye, sir?”

“Your secret is safe with me, though, her maidenhead was left intact, I trust.”

“That it was, sir, Jane is as pure as fresh milk.”

“You got rid of Andrews, I don’t want him poking into village affairs again?”

“That we did, sir, put ‘im on his horse an’ on his way.”

“Good, however, I hope you all realise that your little encounters with Miss Lee will now come to an end.”

“Aye, sir, it’ll be as you say,” replied the constable, breathing easy as it appeared his position was safe.

* * *

As the years rolled by Jane Lee became a fixture in the house of Sir John Curtis. She cured ailments, learned to read as well as behave as a lady should and dressmake and in her spare time she fucked the life out of her master.

On 5th November, 1688, the day that William of Orange landed at Torbay ultimately to drive out James II, Jane gave birth to a son who was named Robert Lee, his father’s name missing from the parish register.

In 1701 the War of the Spanish Succession began and Queen Ann gave Sir John Curtis a commision to raise a regiment of infantry. So, Colonel Curtis went to the wars. He marched to Blenheim, fought at Ramilles and Oudenarde and in all of the those actions he never suffered so much as a scratch, though he’d been in the thick of the fighting. Then just before Malplaquet, he was joined by a draft of replacements led by the twenty-one year old Captain Robert Lee. Half way through the bloodiest of Duke John’s victories a musket ball struck Colonel Curtis in the lower chest which rendered him hors-de-combat and the surgeons claimed he was likely to die before the end of the day.

“Not so,” cried a determined Robert Lee, “I will not have it so.”

The surgeons shook their heads, “There’s nought human hands can do to keep him alive.”

“I’ll take him home and see what can be done there.”

“Home? Home! He’ll not live to be clear of this charnel field.”

But, Robert Lee would have his way and after a journey of extraordinary difficulty; including a three day wait for the North Sea to be fair enough to cross, Sir John Curtis came home.

Jane kissed him fervently, but knew that he had not long to live.

“Fetch the vicar and my lawyers…..,” the baronet cried.

“To-morrow…….,” began Jane.

“No, now…. I’ll see them now, I may not have to-morrow.”

Two hours later the required men arrived and were brought before the baronet who sat in his favourite chair beside a roaring fire.

“Mr Summerson,” Sir John wasted no time speaking to the priest, “I’ll have you marry Mistress Jane and myself.”

The vicar coughed awkwardly, “I’ll read the first of the banns out on Sunday……”

“Can’t you see I’m dying, you damn fool, I’ll be married now.”

“I doubt that that’s possible, Sir John…….”

“Sir, I took you, a poverty stricken scholar, from Cambridge University and gifted you of your Living, in my church. That favour must be returned….. Now….. Do you understand?”

“Aye, sir…. I’ll do it and make it right….”

The master of the house turned to his lawyer, “This is to be written up signed by me and witnessed this night. I happily accept, the boy, previously known as Robert Lee, as my well beloved son, as such he will inherit both my estate and my title.

“It’ll take as little time as I can make it,” said the lawyer.

“Good, but make it certain…. Absolutely certain, so I can pass out of this world a happy man.”

It was done as the baronet requested and by ten the next morning, Robert Lee was Sir Robert Curtis and Lady Jane Curtis was a widow.

That night as she gazed at a million stars, Jane gave a long sigh of relief, her eyes glittered as she whispered, “Thank thee, good Hecate, for my deliverance.”

The End

Copyright© 2012 by Belisarius. All rights reserved.