Salem, 1685

The crowd gathered anxiously, curious to discover what the unfortunate souls had done to be placed in public stocks. Isaac's head was shaved and he was injured, likely punished throughout the night, as thick red saliva oozed from his mouth. Beside them stood a heavyset man dressed in black robes who looked sternly at the crowd, took a Bible, and made them kiss it.

"I, Isaac Vasari, looked upon the naked body of Abigail Bosch and I kissed her..."

Abigail wept inconsolably while Isaac struggled to speak those words.

"And..." said Mr. Sibley.

George Sibley was a large man with strong religious convictions who controlled Salem, our illustrious governor.

"And..." Isaac continued.

"Committed the sin of masturbation," Sibley said, not allowing Isaac to gather strength to speak.

"I committed the sin of masturbation..." he finally managed to say.

"Sixteen strong lashes."

The executioner began the punishment. Isaac's bare back felt each leather strand touch his skin, leaving trails of blood as he screamed with each lash. The sound echoed throughout the square. Then Sibley began his speech.

"On this wonderful day, we are showing God how much we desire to be by His side. Because to be at His side, we cannot allow this kind of abomination that stains the sanctity of marriage."

The whipping continued, and with each lash, the smile of satisfaction intensified on his face. Poor Isaac. I felt sorry for him being there, imprisoned and judged in that manner. If Isaac was being punished merely for masturbating, what would he do to me if he knew? For a second, the idea passed through my mind, and I could feel just a fraction of what my pain would be compared to Isaac's.

Sibley took the hot branding iron that was on a table, inside a small metal brazier. At its tip was the letter 'F,' red as coal embers. He tested the iron on the table and then raised it in the air and bellowed.

"For this reason, you spent the night in the stocks, and you," he said, pointing to Isaac after the final lash, "will receive the mark of your sin." He pushed the hot iron onto Isaac's forehead, who screamed. "Fornicator!"

I could hear the sound of skin burning, and the smell of flesh in contact with metal flooded the area. I quickly turned my face away while listening to Isaac's pain.

"Judge not, lest ye be judged," said John as he approached the platform erected in the middle of the square.

"Who said that?"

"Jesus. Know him?" John challenged.

"John Aurus. My respect for the memory of your father has its limits," Sibley said, looking at John with hatred.

"Lucky for me, I'm leaving this town today," said John as he turned away, but before doing so, he gave me a quick glance and smiled, making me blush.

The day had been long. To reach my house, I usually cross the cemetery at the edge of town. The low, rusty iron gate announced how old that place was. My feet touched the ground, causing crackling sounds as the soles of my shoes contacted the dry leaves when I felt my body being pulled to the side. I was ready to defend myself when I realized who it was.

"John! Haven't you learned anything today?"

"Of course," he said, smiling at me, "that if I continue under the same stars as that pig, I'll end up gutting him myself."

"John..." I said, reprimanding him. "What are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I came to see you."

"Couldn't it wait until tomorrow?"

"No... I..."

I lowered my head and understood what this was about.

"So you're leaving already," I said, looking into his eyes.

"I promise I'll come back, Marcos. This war won't last more than a year, I promise." I turned my face away. "Look," he showed me an old coin, "this is all I have." He broke the coin, dividing it into two parts, and gave me one. "I promise I'll return, for you. And we'll go far away from here."

"All right," I finally said, feeling defeated by that pair of brown eyes. John was a tall, strong man with a light beard and straight hair that fell just below his ear.

His hands touched my face, and soon after, I felt his mouth touch mine. He curved my body and laid me on the ground, caressing me, and once again, I was surrendering to sin, and because of this sin, I would have to make a choice.

The loud sound of my name woke me that night. I walked slowly to the door where I was surprised by council members who forcibly pulled me from my house. The town was silent, and my fears were becoming reality as I was led to the entrance of the Sibley house. The house was illuminated; I quickly crossed the entrance and the living room and was taken to Mr. Sibley's office.

He was seated, his countenance serious. His hands were placed under his mouth, his gaze following me as he indicated with a nod of his head that I should sit in the chair in front of him.

"Leave us alone."

There was no objection; everyone left, and we were face to face. He leaned back in his armchair and began.

"You know the kind of sin you committed. I don't need to tell you how serious it is."

Tears rolled down my face as he looked at me. He got up and approached me, sitting beside me. His hands touched my face; my eyes widened at such an act.

"But you can redeem yourself with me, child. Let me purify your body, and no one will know of the crimes committed by you and John. You want to keep him alive, don't you?" His hands caressed my face.

What could I do? I needed to keep John safe, even if it killed me, I had to keep him alive. I love him, and if this would keep him safe, I had no choice, so I gave a nod, and he smiled.

"Good boy," then his mouth touched mine. I felt sick with that old man touching me like that; his lips were desperate for mine. "What a hot, delicious mouth," he said with satisfaction, lowering his clothes and revealing his hardened phallus. "Now put that mouth of yours here, and be careful with your teeth," he said sternly.

It was for him that I was sacrificing myself—these were the only words as I moaned with my mouth sliding over his member. Obscene words came from his mouth until he withdrew and turned me around.

"No, please..." I begged.

"You didn't think doing this would purify you, did you, child? Now is when the glory of the Lord will enter your spirit and perpetuate the light and destroy all your sins."

With a single movement, I felt him invade me; the pain was maddening. I began to scream, so he stuffed a piece of cloth in my mouth and moaned as he moved forcefully. Then I felt something warm running down my legs and dripping behind me; it was reddish. My vision began to darken, my legs lost their strength, and I collapsed on the floor. I continued to feel and hear him there, delirious with pleasure, but amidst this, my vision finally darkened.

When my eyes opened, he was standing. There was a smile on his face; I was completely naked, and he wore little clothing as well. He approached me, pulled me up so that my eyes looked at the ceiling of the house. His mouth once again touched mine, and his tongue sought passage through my mouth. I had no strength at all, not even to resist.

"Good that you woke up, child. I believe the total purification has not been completed, so I think we will take all night for you to finally enter the kingdom of God."

"Tituba, help him get home," said Sibley, looking at her. "With caution," he finished, leaving the office.

"Yes, sir," she said, bowing slightly and entering the room.

Tituba was one of Sibley's servants. She was tall compared to most women in that town; her brown skin harmonized with her long, curly hair. Her eyes were a dark brown bordering on black. She knelt down; my body was thrown on the floor of the office in a corner behind the desk. I was trembling, but there were no tears in my eyes. Only a rag covered my phallus.

Her eyes widened as she looked at the pool of blood that was a few centimeters from me; her hands went to her mouth, covering it to prevent any noise from coming out. Tituba caressed my face and smiled tenderly. Her hands gently caressed my face. The rays of sunlight began to penetrate the thick layer of glass.

With effort, I stood up; my body was sore, walking would be a problem. Most people would be disgusted to be by my side, but she seemed not to care about what had happened to me, and for her to be there, Sibley faithfully trusted her. What secrets did her thoughts hide? What secrets did that house hold?

With her help, I dressed and was taken through the back of the house along a trail in the forest that circumscribed Salem. Not a word was spoken during the entire journey. The end of the trail led to the back of my house; I looked at her in surprise, but she merely smiled, helped me enter and lie down on the bed, took a small vial from one of her six pockets, and placed it on my nightstand.

"Drop three drops in a glass with water, mix well, and drink; you will feel better."

"Thank you," I said amid tears that were forming on my face.

"Don't cry, child."

"I..." words failed me.

"It's all right..." she said, comforting me.

My eyes opened slowly; I felt discomfort in my buttocks that extended to my legs. I looked at the desk where there was a half-full glass and an open vial. Memories of the previous night flooded my mind, making me collapse. I had been used like a prostitute; that damned old man had used me to satisfy himself in the name of his religion.

"Good to see you're awake," said Tituba as she entered my room. "How do you feel?"

"Better, I think that," I pointed to the glass, "helped me." She gave a brief smile. "What is it?"

"A special blend of herbs. But now, let's get up; the military committee for the war is leaving the city. Don't you want to see John before he goes to war?"

I nodded in confirmation. Tituba helped me get out of bed and dress. We left the house and headed toward a gathering of people waiting for the soldiers to pass. John was at the end of the line; on a small platform was the group led by Sibley, who looked satisfied at John's departure from the city.

John found my eyes and smiled, and as he turned toward the road leading out of the city, I noticed Sibley's eyes on me with a smile on his face. I turned my back and, with Tituba's help, walked slowly toward my house, but was intercepted by him on the way. Tituba greeted him, and he did the same, then looked at me and said:

"It will be better this way; you will thank me for this one day." He touched my face and smiled kindly. "My child."