Accused

The mob had left. Only Betty and Reverend Parris remained in front of the house. "Child," said the holy man. "I believe it is best if you get some rest."

"Thank you Father, that woman and her evil ways make me quite weary," replied the servant Elizabeth Hubbard as she put her hand to her face.

"She will receive her due, do not worry about that. Go now, rest, and may the Lord spring his glory onto you,"

"Thank you, Father. The Lord is grand." She sighed. "Goodnight."

The Reverend part ways with her and Elizabeth headed into the house of her masters. "BY THE GRACE OF GOD I HAVE DONE IT!!!" she exclaimed as soon as she shut the door behind her. The only being that was home to take in her joyous cries was the dog that lay idly in the corner.

She gaily twirled in the single room house reflecting on her triumph. She knew there was a good chance of it working, but she couldn't be sure until it actually happened! She had her mistress, Mary Best, hauled away to the town penitentiary! Her great storytelling had the entire town denounce her as a witch! God, they were so gullible, she thought to herself.

At this point the dog, noting the movement of his mistress's servant, approached Betty for some attention. Normally the woman hated the mutt. But now she was in too good of a mood to care. Instead, she would entertain herself. Bending her knees she stroked his furry coat.

"Notice one more of your masters are absent?" she remarked, diving into a monologue. "Well, she is not returning ever again. They took her away in wonderful fashion. Oh what a great sight it was indeed! The brutality, the ill-intentions...your mistress, the great Mary Best, a blithering fool will get what she deserves..."

The last thought spurred bitter thoughts toward Mary. That woman had it all: a decent upbringing, a complete family, prosperity, a reputable identity! Betty had none of those. An orphan at an early age, abandoned by parents she never even knew, forced to live in the most impoverished of conditions, bouncing around in servitude of abusive families that were a lot better off than her.

When Betty became the maidservant of the Bests, Mary became the embodiment of a life she never had, of a life she wanted. Even though Mary did nothing directly to her, she began to internally despise her mistress. But she could not act on it. She had to endure it, just waiting for the ideal chance to get rid of the woman.

She clutched of the mutt's face and spoke to him with great ire in her voice. "Miserable beast! I despised having to look after you. I only did because that woman commanded me too. If it were up to me, I would have you dead!"

Grabbing a hold of herself, she returned to a calm tone and once again stroked his soft head. "But she loved you as I do your master. And soon he will come to the recognition that he does so me. He will realize that I am the woman for him, not that, that...whore!" she said invoking the language of the mob.

Letting go of the canine, she leisurely strolled over to the Bests' marital bed and plopped down on to it like she owned it. With arms outstretched, she claimed it as her sleeping place tonight.

But before she called it a night here in their bed, she replayed the events in her head. She first consulted Reverend Parris about what she had "seen." He agreed with her that Salem had their latest witch in the making. Parris put in a request for the arrest of Mary Best and voila! All in a day's work, literally! Cue the howling mob! The timing was all by design of course. With no William around to protect his darling wife, the crowd could and would really have its way with her. And oh how they manhandled Mary! The destruction of her dress, those hands all over her perfect little body...they spared few liberties with her!

No one could tell by the serious look on her face but Betty was very excited the wild sight in front of her. There was a devious smile just inching on to her lips. Where she could, she intervened to further apprehend Mary, such as the assertion that her mistress had sex with the devil. It was a truly ridiculous comment even for the servant girl, but hey, it worked! Mary's own humiliation of herself hit another level after she said that. Her own body betrayed her and essentially aided the mob's cause. It was all too rich and arousing

Did Elizabeth truly believe Mary was a witch? Betty didn't actually see any spirits. To be honest, she didn't buy the idea of witches. The girls, namely Abigail Williams, who started the accusations, were playing some mad game that was costing the lives of many women. In fact, the truth didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. All she knew and cared for was that the town would stop at nothing to follow through with her accusations. This was their craze. This was their mania...and Betty knew an opportunity when she saw one...

They would come up with incriminating tests for Mary that would be impossible to pass. This was the pattern of all the other women who were brought to justice. Betty could count on the fact that they would likely abuse, incriminate, condemn, and finally burn the witch. And then, only then, the servant thought as she felt the left side of the bed – WILL'S side – would she be out of their lives and she'd be free to go ahead with plans. She drifted off to sleep with the pleasant thoughts of destroying Mary's life and snatching her loving husband away from her.

"Soon," she mumbled, "soon, Will..."

***

When they arrived at the jailhouse, Mary Best was unceremoniously dumped into her cellar, which really amount to a 10 by10 room with brick walls and nothing in the middle, not even a cot. She would stay there for a few months before she would be put up for trial.

The first thing she noticed was the extremely cold conditions. She was sure she'd freeze tonight if she didn't get some protection for her slim body. She signalled to the sentry for aid.

"Please sir, I pray you, retrieve some garments to protect my body."

The man got up and walked over to her. She stared into his grim eyes and he ogled her frightened yet delicious body from top to bottom.

"CLOTHES?! You want clothes?!" He burst into laughter. "What a stupid request from a witch!"

Mary dropped her head. How could he be so inhumane? How could he deny her this basic facet of life?

"You do not deserve even a stitch on your pitiful evil form." he explained. "Let all that possesses you remain in the open." In truth, the guard just wanted to keep her body exposed for his viewing and using pleasure.

Having been denied, Mary woefully retreated into the filthy cell. She lay down in a fetal position just trying to keep her body warmth within her persons. As she shivered from the great cold, she wondered where Will could be. She needed him now more than ever. She wanted his reassuring words and arms to comfort her. Will would get her out of this mess, she was sure of it. He had a way with people. And he would stop at nothing to protect her, a symbol of their untouchable love. If only he would get back from his errands, if only...

***

The bright sun emitted through Betty's windows awoke the girl. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she stretched her form and smiled at her great state. She looked over to Will's side and just envisioned waking up to that wonderful man every morning.

"It would be a certain improvement over that repulsive witch," she giggled.

She rose out of bed and merrily began her day. With the house to herself, she freely pranced around the wooden floors. She stripped herself of her maid's dress and left in the middle of the living space. She didn't care. She didn't have to clean up after anyone now...especially her nemesis Mary Best.

She cleansed herself and fixed her appearance in the mirror before looking for something to cover her form. Looking at herself in the mirror, she noted the difference with Mary. She was rather petite in stature, standing at about 5'5, a near half foot shorter than her mistress. Indeed, while Mary was statuesque yet quite slender, Betty was tiny yet curvier all the same. Where Mary was angelic with her golden locks and blue eyes, Betty was earthier with her matching hazel hair and eyes.

Then, just when she had something picked out of her rather plain and limited wardrobe, she got an idea. She strolled over to Mistress Mary's chest of garments and pulled out one of her dresses. She threw it onto the bed and examined it. It was the finest of Mary's gowns without a doubt. Long, woolly, flowing, a faint blue colour and accessorized with lacy embroidery. This was clearly a dress saved for the holiest of days...and Betty was going to try it on right now!

She fitted the dress over her head with some difficulty due to the sheer length of it. When it was on, the maidservant could only laugh at how unfit the size was for her. The sleeves outran her arms. The extra fabric of the skirt bunched at her feet. Yet, still, something felt right and empowering about it.

As she smoothed out the cloth, she contemplated the meaning of it. The dress represented a lifestyle she never had. It signified the perks of the upper class society (well, upper to her, the Bests were by no means members of the gentry). It meant that when that woman was disposed of and Betty usurped her man for herself in marriage, she could have a dress of this nature tailored for her body.

She pretended to classily walk with the dress as if she was at church. "Greetings, Mrs. Walcott...why yes, we are very happy now that Mary has been apprehended...Thank you, Mrs Goody, it does look splendid on my doesn't it?" she said to herself as she pictured all the women that would pay her compliments.

Of course, no one's compliments were bigger than the ones she'd get from Will. "You are so beautiful in that dress," he would say. "Yes, much more appealing than Mary. Very much so." Oh how she longed to hear kind words from him regarding her appearance. How grand that would be...

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!!

Her fantasy was interrupted by the frapping at the door. In a frantic stupor she threw the dress off and looked for something to don herself with. The knocking got louder which only increased her desperation. In a quick move she picked up a blanket off the bed and covered herself. Then she calmly answered the door.

On the other side of the threshold were two older constables. They were shocked to see Betty in her current state to say the least.

"Ahem, good morning, Betty," one began.

"Morning, Mr. Patsy, Mr. Kline...what brings you here this morning?" Betty replied in the most nonchalant tone she could manage.

The officers purposely ignored commenting on the girl's appearance. Instead they stated their business in a strict tone. "We've come by order of Judge Hathorne to set this wicked house ablaze and rid it of the evil spirits."

Set the house blaze, Betty thought. They couldn't do that! Betty and Will were going to live here and be merry! She had to think of something quickly.

"No!" she outraged. "I mean, that will not do Mr. Kline..."

"Oh? And why not?" they replied without any give.

"Because, because Mr. Best has not returned from his endeavours. Surely his belongings are not afflicted with that of Mrs. Best's, are they?" It was such a horrible line of reason, Betty acknowledged, but it was the best she could do. Thus, Betty supplemented her words with rather flirtatious actions: playing with her hair, adjusting the blanket to show more skin. She was devious, but not overtly. She wouldn't want to receive the same fate as Mary after all.

The subliminal acts must've worked because Kline and Patsy firmed their position. "Well, alright then Betty...when William returns we shall speak to him."

Betty nodded. She noted the men's glances on her body. They would never admit it, but they lusted over her young body. "Thank you," she said with a gently curtsy.

The men tipped their hat and bid her a good day. She shut the door behind her and leaned up against it. She breathed a sigh of relief and then smirked.

***

The hard floor did no favours to Mary as she woke from her uncomfortable and often interrupted slumber. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and stretched her stiff back. Taking a look at her surroundings, she reminded herself why she was and the events that transpired last night.

The first order of business of her days was to plead once again with the guard. She tried to reason with him to let her go or at least let her know the whereabouts of her husbands, but the sentry would have none of it. He would insult her damaged reputation even further and deny her any right to anything she requested. She didn't deserve it.

Returning to her corner an emotionally broken woman, Mary Best shrunk her body into itself and just wept. She cowered in the haplessness and fulity of her situation. The whole world seemed against her.

The days ran hopelessly together like this that it difficult to keep track of the days of the weeks. She would wake up, cry, beg, pray to the Lord, and then prepare for the day. She was denied clothes, even when the sun went down and the chilly nightly air set in. She was verbally and physically harassed by the jailers as well the other male inmates, many of whom were accused of witchcraft themselves. She was beaten, strangled, and suffered much bruising and marring. The men had little concern for her health. For the men condemned to their death, Mary's slender body was a last crack at sexual fulfillment.

At the end of the day, she would curl up against the wall a broken and defeated woman and pray. She'd pray for the men who systematically attacked her physically and psychologically. She would pray that God's providence would deal with them. Most of all she'd pray for once again seeing Will and having him her hold and reassure her.

***

Betty had visited Mary on one bored occasion. She didn't meet with her. She only bore witness to one of the vile episodes the woman was currently enduring. It was such a raw and demeaning act, yet a complete turn on. Betty lifted her skirt to access her wet pussy. She pleasured herself to Mary's humiliation. She secretly and evilly wished for more on her former mistresses. She revelled in her fall from grace.

When she returned home as the sole occupant of the Best house, she could not wait for Will to arrive. He was a good man with a kind, gentle soul. He had always treated her great dignity despite her lower social status. Many a time she secretly admired his beautiful body. His brown hair, his hazel eyes, his powerful upper body...such strength he possessed. He built the house and everything in it with his bare, rough hands. Betty longed to experience his rugged touch on her body; to be thrown onto the bed and just taken; to bear first-hand witness to his undoubtedly animalistic side...

But her thoughts digressed...he would return to find his darling wife, currently suffering in a despicable jail cell, on the chopping block as the latest witch. As she ran her gentle fingers over his possessions and his furniture constructions, she considered his reaction. What would he say? What would he do?

If he was the smart man Elizabeth believed him to be, he would distance himself from Mary as much as possible. After all, if attached himself to that woman, he risked his own condemnation as a witch himself. And this, for Betty, just wouldn't do. His beautiful body was only good to her alive.

He would throw his own wife in front of the horses, she was sure of it. Whatever petty love the two shared would not be strong enough to save his own life. He'd be very reluctant and even hurt to add fire to the case against his wife, but this was all for the better. He would be saved and in a state which would be best suited to Betty's intentions. After all, a pain-ridden and vulnerable Will was most favourable to her. She imagined herself extending her embrace to him. She'd hold him and he'd hold her as they consoled each other about Mary's unfortunate fate.

She would console him in the fact that as much as Mary treated her well enough, her obligation lay more with God than her mistress. Mary

was

a good woman, but the pious Mary Best ceased to exist up until a few days ago. Betty had to do what she had to do.

This is what she told herself as she played with herself atop their bed. Moving aside the garments that covered her crotch, she felt the urged to attend to the feeling that so deeply overwhelmed. It was almost too powerful to handle. As she rubbed her fingers up and now, everything just got to her: the cunning plan, Mary's humiliation, finally having Will in her arms. Betty moaned. She had no remorse about ruining one life and altering another.

When the sensation was apt enough, she let out a yelp. Not too loud though. There was no telling who was around. If anyone saw what she was doing, she very well could have been accused of the very things Mary was! That would not do at all. She took a moment to recover and picked herself off the bed. She straightened her dress and longingly went about her business.