Joan and Sarah had always enjoyed an easy-going sister-sister relationship, and this holiday away from it all deep in the English countryside was the perfect summer break. A drive down single track roads eventually led them to park the car and continue on their way by foot. The forest was stunning, with its array of brilliant colours and fascinating features, and it was no surprise that they walked for over half an hour in this tranquil atmosphere. They did not pick up on the fact that the ambience of the day changed as they walked, and upon reaching what they thought was a large clearing, they were surprised to find a small village. Nothing unusual in that, Joan thought, probably one of those re-enactment societies out on a social weekend. They approached the small group of people, but became slightly concerned when they were looked at with great suspicion.
Upon speaking to the ‘villagers’, their concern increased as they were unable to understand a lot of what they said. What they could discern, however, were the words ‘devil’ and ‘witches’. Without further ado, the two girls were held by the arms by several of the village men, while others disappeared. One of the men spoke slowly to them: “You are not of our kind. You dress in a strange manner, and speak in a strange way. You must be from the devil. You are witches. We are going to burn you both at the stake as witches.” “Come on, guys, joke over, good re-enacting, I’m impressed. We’re just two sisters enjoying a short holiday.” said Joan. “We are not joking, as you say. Witchcraft is a serious offence in these times,” replied one of them. “What times are we talking about?” said Joan, increasingly concerned. “The year of Our Lord 1466,” came the reply, and from the look on the face of the man who replied, he was deadly serious.
One of the men who had left earlier returned, and nodded. The two girls were immediately taken deeper into the forest until they reached a small clearing. There, before them, were two stakes that had been driven into the ground, with a stone set against each of them: one about 6 feet tall, the other about 4 feet high. Joan gasped loudly when she saw the stakes; there was only one purpose for them – burning a victim alive. What if they HAD crossed some time zone and travelled back in time. But no, surely not! Joan could make out one of the villagers ask “Who should we put to the stake first, John?” The reply was instant: “The short-haired one!” Joan was led to the front of the stake with the taller of stones. Joan’s long black dress was unceremoniously ripped from her, revealing a black bra and matching skimpy black thong. John moved forward with a small knife and cut at the bra between Joan’s breasts. The bra cut, the cups easily fell away to show the full naked 36C breasts of 19 year-old Joan. Although only 5 feet 5 inches tall, Joan’s slim, shapely, beautifully proportioned body was laid bare for all to see. John motioned to the stake, and Joan was quickly hustled forward and pushed up a makeshift ladder. Strong hands positioned her atop the stone with her back to the stake. Within seconds Joan felt a cold chain being pulled tightly around her waist and drawn behind the stake. As the chain was passed forward again John took both ends and very slowly and carefully criss-crossed them between Joan’s breasts. Joan gasped, partly in pain, partly in breathless excitement, as the cold chain was once again pulled tightly against her naked body, biting into her young flesh. A second chain was then wrapped around the top of her thighs and secured behind the stake, and finally John removed her shoes and fastened a small chain around her ankles and the stake. While she was being chained to the stake, other villagers had been stacking dry brushwood all around the stone she was standing on, and when she looked down, Joan realised a considerable amount of wood had been set in place beneath her. John stepped down from the ladder and placed Joan’s dress, bra and shoes into the pyre – she would be having no further need of them. Sarah looked up at Joan, and looked across at the other stake. “Please don’t burn me, oh please don’t burn me” Sarah exclaimed. “I’ll do anything for you, but please don’t burn me!” “Anything?” said John. “Yes, anything, please” replied Sarah. “Will you light the fire beneath your sister? Will you burn your sister at the stake?” “Yes, yes I will light the wood beneath her. I will do as you say. Just show me where to set the wood on fire. I’ll enjoy watching her burn alive anyway!” “That is settled, then. You can burn your sister.” “Sarah, how could you?” shouted Joan. “They’ll still burn you alive as well, you fool.” But Joan’s words were ignored.
A villager passed a burning torch to John, who took it and motioned Sarah to step forward with him. “Are you younger than your sister?” he said to Sarah. “Yes, yes, she’s 19, and I’m 18” said Sarah excitedly, wishing to please John. “19, a very good age for a girl to be burned as a witch. So young, so sweet, yet not so innocent!” “Now, take this torch and place the flame there. That’s right, hold it there for a few seconds, on your sister’s dress, until you see that her burning dress has set the wood on fire”. Sarah did as she was told, and held the burning torch in the wood at the base of pyre, in the centre, on Joan’s dress. Joan looked down in horror as she saw Sarah withdraw the torch and witnessed the soft material of her dress burning fiercely, and small flames taking a hold on the brushwood. Sarah smiled as she moved around the base of the stake taking obvious pleasure in lighting the pyre in several places. While at the back of the stake, Sarah raised her burning torch high and allowed the flame to play on Joan’s naked arse cheeks for a few seconds. Joan screamed in pain at the torture her sister was putting her through. Joan could only stand helpless in the chains with the rough-hewn stake at her back as the first wisps of smoke drifted up around her. The sweet smell of burning wood invaded her senses, and she could not avoid looking down again to stare at the fire that her sister had lit. Sarah had done well! The pyre was alight all around the base, with flames working their way slowly upwards. The ominous crackling of flames on wood now also became clear as Joan focused on all that was happening. Looking out, she could see the crowd of villagers watching with great interest, and at the front, John stood impassively as close as he could to the fire, her sister Sarah with her arms around him, hoping that her actions could save her from the same fate. Joan knew that nothing Sarah would do would save her from the flames, however.
The wood caught fire very slowly – this was not going to be over in a short time, but rather a prolonged burning. Joan got the distinct feeling that this was not the first time John had burned a girl at the stake. Joan could now feel the gentle warmth of the fire beneath her, and the swirling smoke caused her to cough, and she felt her eyes beginning to water as smoke continually drifted over her face. “My God, this is a slow fire; I am going to burn alive slowly. That bastard John knows exactly what he is doing!” she thought to herself. Yet the whole scenario of being the innocent girl chained tightly and helplessly to a stake with a fire rising to burn her was something that sexually aroused her, although she could not fully explain it. She just accepted it, enjoying the pleasure at the moment while dreading the pain to come.
The warmth of the fire eventually reached the point where the heat began to be unbearable, and Joan let out her first cries of fear and anguish. For over 5 minutes now the fire had been gaining in momentum and the flames had taken a strong hold on the wood. Joan felt the flesh on her feet and ankles tighten as the heat from her fire began to slowly roast her alive. Smoke drifted up all around her body continuously, adding to the dramatic effect. Joan’s cry for help only mingled with the loud crackling of the fire as it devoured more wood and crept closer to its helpless young victim with every minute. The top flames drifted aimlessly towards Joan’s legs, until a small breeze concentrated their movement in a single, upward motion. The effect was to fan the flames over Joan’s feet and ankles for a few seconds, enough time for the fire to caress her, to taste her, to let her know that all hope of rescue was over, she belonged to the fire now, and it was going to enjoy every delicious moment of wantonly taking her. Joan screamed when the flames settled on her for those few, fleeting moments. The skin on her feet and ankles blackened and charred easily, and when the flames rose higher and reached her feet, they succumbed to the touch of the fire and ignited. Joan screamed in agony, her pathetic wailing resounding into the tall trees, without a sympathetic soul ever hearing it. Meanwhile the fire, warming to the taste of Joan, now wrapped itself around her feet and ankles, and with the aid of her stake burning steadily behind her, began to spiral up Joan’s legs. There was no doubt now that Joan had been set alight, and was burning alive at the stake. What struck Joan was how easy it was for her to burn at the stake. And now, as she burned steadily, Joan took in the smell of her own body burning. It was as though her senses were heightened: there was the distinctive smells of the wood and her body burning; the sound of the fire crackling loudly as it consumed not only the wood but her young, innocent body; the feel of almost every lick of the flames on her tender flesh that seemed to urge the fire on more, and the sight, as she looked down, of this raging fire now taking her, ravishing her at its will, in a manner most gratifying to the onlookers.
Joan’s thighs first began to blacken, and then they too meekly accepted the ravaging flames. Flames blossomed outwards and swirled around her thighs as their natural shapeliness and fullness opened out towards her hips. Joan could now feel the intense heat on her crotch for the first time, and she could only gasp involuntarily as the heat sensation worked itself on her clitoris. Joan’s thong, providing a ridiculously small covering for her crotch, began to smoulder, and finally burst into flames, providing a brief flurry of fire on her crotch as the material of the thong and her mound of pubes burned instantly. Behind her, her hands were on fire, feeding flames towards the tight, pert, cheeks of her arse, which was now intensely hot and ready to burn. Sweat rolled down Joan’s face as she fought a losing battle with the chains in her instinctive reaction to her burning.
Through all the pain, Joan had no control over what happened next. Flames licking the top of her thighs finally reached her arse and her fanny. They easily parted her fanny lips and the instant, burning sensation on her clit drove Joan to an incredible orgasm. The watching crowd only saw her body bucking and writhing against the chains, her hips suddenly thrust forward for a few seconds, and Joan’s screams rise to an amazing pitch. In those seconds of thrusting orgasmic ecstasy, Joan had inadvertently offered her hips to where the topmost flames were at their most dense. A mixture of intense pain and pleasure flooded her body as her hips and crotch disappeared in the devouring flames, with smoke drifting around her face carrying the tang of her burning arse and vagina to her heightened senses. Her charred and blackened legs were now blazing fiercely, appearing to glow a bright red from being swathed in flames. Sarah stood as close as she could, looking on impassively, but inside, her pulse was racing as she was totally turned on by the sight of her sister burning at the stake. “This is wrong, this is wrong, to be aroused at the sight of my sister’s crotch burning. I can’t wait to see how her sexy breasts burn. Slowly, I hope, but God, it’s such a turn-on.”
Through the strong heat haze, Joan was able to see more wood being piled into her fire, and despite the pain, she looked down again to see the hungry tongues of flame climb eagerly over her waist and reach out for her inviting, naked, breasts. Tiny rivers of sweat ran between her breasts, to instantly dissipate into steam with the heat. Joan’s young breasts, with fully erect nipples, stood out proudly, and began to roast slowly above the rising fire. Her charred legs and waist now served only to complement the wood feeding the fire, and Joan cried out loudly in desperation as the unbearable pain racked her body. Her screams were met with impassive silence from the watching crowd, her sister watching avidly with obvious relish. Joan tossed her head back, but could not hold it up for long, and as she moved her head downwards again, she saw that flames had reached her breasts. Tiny flames were licking around the outside of her breasts, between them, and licking sensuously on her nipples. Joan sobbed as she strained once more against the chains, but in so doing, her breasts simply thrust slightly forward, emphasising her superb curves and offering them to random, wild flames leaping from the wood. The fire needed no second invitation, and before long, Joan’s breasts were enveloped in flames. She pulled her head back instinctively from the heat, but her scorched and singeing hair caught fire as flames wreathed her shoulders. Joan could still summon up enough strength to emit a piercing scream as her hair disappeared in a fireball and her head finally dropped as the fire claimed all of her. Joan and her stake were now a blazing mass; Sarah, watching, could not believe how erotic it had been for her. She had not, however, bargained for what happened next.
“Right” said executioner John, “let’s get this other witch to the stake.” “But you promised you would spare me if I did as you asked!” Sarah said in desperation. “You didn’t think that you could burn your sister at the stake, and not suffer the same fate did you? You lighting your sister’s fire was a bonus for us to see. Now I’m going to burn you, you witch, and enjoy every second as your sweet young body burns.” With that strong hands took Sarah by the arms and propelled her to the waiting stake. She was unable to resist as she was ushered up the ladder and positioned with her back against the stake. The sensation of the cold stone she was standing on hit her immediately. No attempt was made to disrobe Sarah; she would burn fully clothed.
In a state of shock, Sarah stood impassively, sobbing quietly, as the chaining procedure was repeated. The chains bit tightly into her clothing and her flesh, executioner John taking particular care to chain particularly tightly her ankles and the strange shoes with high heels on them. “You promised...” was all that Sarah could say. “I promised nothing, witch!” John said in reply. All was now prepared for the second burning. Sarah was a petite girl, slim, about 5’ 4” tall with 34b breasts. She was wearing a red short sleeved dress which was low cut, and with the chain pulled tightly around her breasts they jutted our provocatively. The hem of Sarah’s dress, normally above-the-knee in length, had been drawn quite high as she was chained to the stake, and was now no more than an inch or two below her crotch. The sight before the onlookers was completed by her red stiletto-heeled shoes, which, by standing on a stone, served to show off her young shapely legs to perfection. Sarah was the object of raging lust among all the men present (and she knew it), and a few of the females as well!
Once Sarah was totally chained to the stake, John lost no time in stepping forward and lighting Sarah’s fire. Very slowly, very deliberately, he lit a fire in several places in the wood, taking care the tiny fires were evenly spaced. Sarah was in a total state of shock as the flames gathered in strength and climbed the wood. She said nothing, but looked out with a disbelieving stare into the crowd, then down to take in the sight of the advancing flames. Smoke drifted up around her, gently raising the hem of her dress occasionally, and drifting through her shoulder length brown hair. “Oh God NO!” she cried out as the flames at last began to have an effect on her. The heat quickly had her screaming, as the stone she was placed upon was lower than that of her sister’s, so the flames were making inroads to her faster. John watched with satisfaction as flames swept over the stone she was standing on, and set her red high-heeled shoes alight. Her shoes burned easily and in seconds her feet and ankles were enveloped as the fire tasted its young victim for the first time. Sarah sobbed, and cried out, to no effect. The onlookers stood with smug satisfaction, taking in the sight of this second teenage girl now burning at the stake. Sarah’s shapely legs had thick smoke drifting up them as her lower legs blackened and then burned steadily. “Magnificent!” one of the onlookers was heard to say. And Sarah was burning magnificently. This time, the stake took to burning fiercely, and flames licking up the stake needed no invitation to wrap tightly around her legs. In very little time her thighs were feeding the flames as her plaintive cries drifted from her red lipsticked lips. With the constant updraught of hot air, the hem of her short dress flapped gently onto her hips, exposing her skimpy thong for all to see. At last, the hem of her dress dropped slightly, only to be touched by the waiting flames. Immediately the thin material of the dress ignited and flames raced around the hem of the dress, then began to lick up wildly around her hips. Sarah’s thong dissolved in the flames and slim tongues of fire began to work on her hips and fanny. Sarah’s gasp, and the expression on her face, could be equally an expression of deep pain and anguish, or a total orgasmic rush. In seconds, her hips and arse were bright red as flames took a vice-like control of them, while flames continued to burn her dress at what was to her an alarming rate. Soon, her dress was completely burned away, singeing the tips of her hair in the process. As flames drove up over her waist and stomach, what remained of her bra first scorched and smouldered and then simply ignited. The onlookers were treated to the sight of her pert, naked, young breasts for a few seconds, then the flames reached them and they were enveloped in flames hungry to devour them. Sarah tossed her head from side to side in desperation and pain, but this only served to fan the flames reaching for her shoulders, and her hair caught fire. The lashings of hair spray she liked to use fuelled the fire, and in seconds her hair was a fireball. A final scream came from her pretty lips before the flames claimed all of her. Sarah had burned her sister at the stake, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Now she had suffered the same fate.
The villagers, once they had piled a great deal of wood onto both pyres to burn the girls totally to ashes, returned to the village satisfied that they had repulsed the devil’s attempt to put his disciples among them. They would go back to the fires in an hour or so to ensure that nothing remained of the burnings.
In the pub that night, John and Steve discussed the day’s events. “It was very fortunate that those two young girls wandered into our medieval re-enactment village”, said Steve. “The ‘Online BATS Re-enactment Society’ does hold a great event each year, and this time we had no need to choose one of the girls from within us to burn at the stake”, he continued. “Yes”, said John, “those two sisters were beautiful young girls, absolutely perfect for burning. And they satisfied everyone’s desires. You like to see a girl burned naked; I like to see a girl clothed, burning slowly from her high-heeled shoes upwards. The sight of the hem of her short skirt or dress catching fire is always something special.” “And the authorities know us a medieval re-enactment society, so a fire is nothing unusual in our midst, as we have satisfied all the Forestry Commission requirements as to the site,” continued Steve. “Their car…” “Has already been taken away, and it will have disappeared to a crusher already. One of the benefits of have a scrap metal merchant as one of our number,” added John. John raised his glass and said “Here’s to a very successful conclusion to the 2005 BATS. We look forward with great anticipation to burning the next young girl in 2006.”