One Day since the Convent Takeover
Christine and Adeline were both kneeling in contemplation – or, more likely, complete submission – as Elizabeth entered their chamber.
The room, once a serene dormitory filled with the gentle hum of prayer and rest, now bore the stark marks of captivity. Elizabeth, after commanding Alana and their men to seize the convent the previous night, had orchestrated the capture of all the nuns. However, the supply of cages fell short, prompting a swift repurposing of the premises. The walls, once adorned with crosses and holy texts, were now stripped bare, exposing only the cold, unyielding stone.
The beds, which once offered comfort to weary souls, had been transformed into instruments of restraint. Chains, thick and unforgiving, were looped through collars clamped tightly around Christine and Adeline's necks. These collars, made of heavy metal, were secured to the iron bed frames, effectively restricting their movements to a small radius around the beds. The rooms, once private chambers for reflection and peace, had been locked, turning each into a makeshift prison cell. Christine and Adeline were among those confined in this manner, their former sanctuary now a stark reminder of their subjugation.
The air was heavy with the scent of fear and resignation. Christine's eyes were dull with despair, as they had been for weeks now, and her hands, clasped together as if in perpetual prayer, trembled slightly. Beside her, Adeline's posture mirrored Christine's. Her head was bowed low, and her crimson hair fell like a curtain over her face, hiding her expression but not the silent tears that occasionally dripped onto the cold floor.
Elizabeth's presence filled the room with an oppressive authority. She walked with a confident stride, her boots echoing ominously on the stone floor. Stopping before the two captives, she surveyed her handiwork with a satisfied smirk. "I see that you’re both eager to see me," she purred, her voice dripping with a mockery of affection.
Alana stood rigidly behind Elizabeth, her gaze fixed on some distant point, avoiding any connection with the captured nuns. She was no longer a sister or a friend to any of these nuns—her only family now was her mistress.
As Elizabeth circled the two chained women, her fingers lightly tracing the metal of their collars, Christine and Adeline remained motionless, their bodies tense with anticipation of what cruelty might come next. The room, once a sanctuary, had become their prison, and Elizabeth their warden.
The two redheads lifted their foreheads from the ground and gazed at her with open-mouthed anticipation. Both were fearful, and that now expressed itself in a desire to please her above all else. “Reverend Mother,” Adeline murmured with trembling lips.
The terror was palpable in both of them. After all, they were there when Ester had "revealed" her as a demon yesterday. The memory of Ester's screams still echoed in their minds, a haunting reminder of the fate that could befall any who displeased Elizabeth.
"How can we please you today, Reverend Mother?" Christine asked, forcing herself to smile. Her voice quivered despite her best efforts to sound submissive and eager.
Elizabeth paused, her eyes narrowing as she considered their question. She circled them once more, her fingers trailing along the chains that bound them, each touch sending shivers down their spines. The eagerness in their eyes repulsed her; it was clear they believed any humiliation she inflicted was preferable to the alternative—being handed over to the men who had stormed the convent last night.
Elizabeth giggled affably and glanced out the window at the noon sun. It was a beautiful day outside. “And why would you do anything for me? Surely, both of you know the truth by now... You know I am not, in fact, the Reverend Mother Sylvia."
Both stared at her, afraid to speak and say the wrong thing, so Elizabeth’s eyes swiveled to Christine. “Well? You may speak. You remember, do you not? Adeline didn't fuck all the sense out of your head, did she?"
“I... yes," she conceded meekly. “But I only believe what you tell me to believe, Your Holiness. Not what that slut Sister Ester days.”
Elizabeth laughs. “And if I told you to believe that you’re a dog, would you bark for me as one?”
Christine blinks, uncertain. A tremor visibly went through her and made the small breasts jiggle tantalizingly. The slut’s nipples were hard in her fear. "I... am I your dog, Reverend Mother? Is that what would please you?"
Elizabeth leaned closer, her face inches from Christine's. "Perhaps," she whispered, her breath hot against Christine's skin. "But first, show me how much of a dog you can be. Crawl to the corner of the room and back."
The moment the other girl began to crawl away, the chain dragging behind her, Elizabeth immediately forgot about her, turning her attention to the other girl. “And what about you? You lack her nobility and the stupid obsequiousness that comes with the simple girl of peasant stock that you are. What do you think?”
Sensing an opportunity to prove herself superior, Adeline grabbed it breathlessly. “I do not think you are the Reverend Mother!”
“No?" Elizabeth asks, her interest piqued slightly. "And why is that?”
Adeline answers, her voice trembling but determined. “You are much too important to be merely that. You are like a god among us. A goddess. There is nothing we would not do to please you, Your Grace.”
Elizabeth's lips curled into a slow, predatory smile."Your Grace?" That was certainly a change of tone. She leaned closer to Adeline, looking down at the stupidly beautiful redhead peasant as she cupped her chin. “What about sacrifice, my sweet Adeline? Would you be willing to do that?”
“Of course.”
“I w-would too,” Christine added quickly. “It does not matter what it is… It does not matter to me who people say you are… I will always think as you tell me to and do as you tell me to…”
“Is that so?” Elizabeth extended her second hand and caressed Christine’s soft locks, passing the silken strands between her fingers. “And would you die for me if I asked you to?”
Their terror escalated to such a degree that both suppressed any kind of reaction. “If that is what’s wished.” “If that is what’s desired.”
“Perhaps you should prove to me how much you are willing to sacrifice. Alana, what do you think?”
Alana took a step forward like a ready soldier. “What would you like me to do, Mistress?”
Elizabeth looked into the eyes of the two redheads, wondering what the worst thing to do was. She could have Alana fuck them both. Strangle them. Maybe even break their arms. At this point, she was certain that they would have even accepted crucifixion with a smile out of fear that Elizabeth might somehow come up with a worse punishment if they failed to accept the one she doled out. They might not be entirely wrong, either.
And yet, there was something oddly boring in this new dynamic to Elizabeth. What was the fun in it if both had accepted their circumstances so completely? As she contemplated a new direction to take it in, Elizabeth began to smile. “That will not be necessary, Alana. On the contrary, I think my loyal followers would like to prove their love for me without any strain. Is that not right?”
"Yes, Your Grace, we would do anything to prove our love for you," Adeline quickly responded, her voice a mix of fear and eagerness.
Christine nodded vigorously, her eyes wide with anticipation. "Absolutely, Reverend Mot- Your Grace. We are here to serve and obey in any way you desire."
Elizabeth smirked. “Therefore, would it not be best for me to allow them to act as they see fit? Come, then, girls. Show me how much you love and worship me.”
As she resumed her seat, the two young nuns spared a glance at one another, realizing they were no longer being asked to attack each other. This time, they would have to go even further and harm something they loved even more... themselves.
Christine blinked rapidly, her breathing getting more intense by the second. “B-But what should we do, Reverend Mother?”
Adeline already understood where this was going and started slapping herself. Not gentle and playful slaps, but loud and brutal smacks that left her face red and her ears ringing. She kept her eyes open, staring devoutly at Elizabeth, and proved her unyielding commitment by hitting her face again, and again, and again.
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed slightly, observing Adeline's self-inflicted punishment with a mix of amusement and curiosity. The sound of each slap echoed off the stone walls, a testament to Adeline's desperation to please. Elizabeth's mind raced with thoughts of control and submission, her satisfaction growing as she watched Adeline degrade herself further. It was not just about the pain; it was about the complete surrender of dignity, the absolute devotion that compelled Adeline to harm herself in such a manner.
Elizabeth leaned back slightly, her gaze unwavering from the scene before her. She pondered the depths of human fear and obedience, marveling at how far these once devout nuns were willing to go under her rule. The power she wielded over them was intoxicating, and she reveled in the knowledge that their every action was driven by the desire to avoid her wrath.
As Adeline continued, her face reddening with each strike, Elizabeth felt a surge of dominance course through her. This was more than mere compliance; it was worship, pure and raw. Adeline was offering her very essence, her self-worth, all for the approval of her captor. Elizabeth's lips curled into a subtle, sinister smile. She was not just a figure of authority; she was a deity in this twisted new world she had created within the convent walls.
Christine, watching in horror yet unable to intervene, mirrored the same terror and helplessness that Elizabeth thrived on. Realizing she now looked unfaithful, Christine glanced around with a wild-eyed look. Once the desperate noble nun scrutinized it enough times, she rushed forwards on all fours to the bed, moving like a desperate animal, and grabbed a leather belt that was stashed underneath. Without wasting any time to consider what she would feel, she aimed the belt over her shoulder and began to whip her own back and ass. “My dedication to y-y-you… is total… Miss... Mistress.."
Elizabeth's laughter filled the room, a chilling sound that underscored the absurdity of the scene before her. Christine and Adeline, once proud and devout nuns, now reduced to self-flagellating creatures vying for her approval. Their actions, though intended to demonstrate loyalty and submission, only served to amuse and disgust Elizabeth further.
"You’re little more than disgusting little piglets to me," Elizabeth sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. "Filthy animals. Show me that. Show me what you truly are."
The command was clear, and the two captives responded immediately, their actions escalating in desperation. As they continued to inflict pain upon themselves, both reached down to touch their own bodies, each movement more degrading than the last.
Christine, her face contorted in pain, pinched her nipple and twisted it viciously. Tears welled up in her eyes, not just from the physical agony but from the humiliation of being forced to degrade herself so publicly. Her body trembled under the strain, yet she persisted, driven by the fear of what might happen if she stopped.
Adeline, on the other hand, took a different approach. With a grimace of pain, she forced all four fingers into her tight cunt, groaning loudly as she did so. The sound was a mix of pain and submission, a testament to her complete surrender to Elizabeth's will. Each thrust of her fingers was a plea for mercy, a desperate attempt to prove her worthiness to her captor.
The room was filled with the sounds of their suffering—the sharp intakes of breath, the soft whimpers, the occasional stifled scream. It was a symphony of degradation orchestrated by Elizabeth, who watched with a mixture of amusement and contempt.
Elizabeth's thoughts raced with the power she wielded over these women. They were no longer individuals; they were extensions of her will, puppets dancing on the strings of fear and obedience. The sight of them hurting themselves for her approval was both ridiculous and intoxicating. It was a reminder of the depths of human depravity when faced with absolute authority.
Elizabeth, feeling the heat between her legs intensify, reached down teasingly and ran her fingers over her burning cunt. Sadly, she probably shouldn't cum... not yet. She didn't want to waste her energy... there was a lot more coming today. Instead, she looked at Alana. "Why don't you assist your sisters in their task, Alana," Elizabeth commanded. "They lack the amount of hands necessary to bring enough punishment upon themselves."
Alana, ever obedient, scanned the room, and her gaze fell upon a small statue of a saint lying on top of the nightstand. She swiftly grabbed it and placed it on the ground beneath Christine's ass, positioning it with deliberate care.
"Sit down on it," Alana ordered coldly, her voice devoid of warmth. Christine hesitated, her eyes wide with terror, but the unyielding expression on Alana's face left no room for refusal. With trembling movements, she lifted herself and began to lower herself onto the statue, the cold, hard surface pressing against her tender flesh.
As soon as the statue began to enter her tight little ass, Christine froze, a shudder running through her body. "Don’t stop," Alana warned, her voice laced with an icy edge that made Elizabeth proud. "Don’t you dare stop."
Alana's actions were precise and devoid of any mercy. She stepped forward, her face a mask of cold detachment as she reached out and grabbed Christine by the shoulder. With a forceful push, she guided Christine down onto the statue that lay menacingly on the floor. Christine's body tensed and writhed in protest, her eyes wide with terror and pain as the statue began to invade her most private space.
Despite Christine's painful screams, Alana showed no signs of relenting. She maneuvered herself expertly, ensuring she was out of the way of the whip that Christine still held and continued to use on her own back and ass. Each lash was accompanied by a sharp cry from Christine, a sound that mixed agony with the humiliation of her situation.
With a final, brutal shove, Alana forced Christine down until her asscheeks touched the cold floor, and the statue disappeared entirely within her. The room echoed with Christine's choked sobs, her body trembling uncontrollably from the overwhelming pain. Yet, even amidst this torment, Christine's twisted sense of loyalty prevailed. She continued to twist her nipple, each movement fueled by a desperate need to please Elizabeth despite the agony it caused her.
Elizabeth observed the scene with a twisted sense of satisfaction, her eyes gleaming with dark amusement. The terror etched on Christine and Adeline's faces as they cowered before Alana was palpable. It was clear that their fear of Alana had surpassed even their dread of Elizabeth herself. This realization delighted Elizabeth; it was as if Alana had become an avenging angel, a terrifying reminder of what these once-sisters could become under Elizabeth's influence.
Alana's transformation was complete, her former self buried beneath layers of ruthless obedience. She stood rigidly, her expression cold and detached, a stark contrast to the trembling figures of Christine and Adeline. The sight of Alana, once a fellow nun, now enforcing Elizabeth's will with such brutality that it amplified the horror experienced by the captives. They saw in her not just a captor but a mirror reflecting their own potential fate.
Elizabeth leaned back, her mind racing with thoughts of control and manipulation. Alana's presence added a new layer to her dominance; she was no longer just a figure of authority but a creator of monsters. The power she wielded over Alana, turning her into a tool of terror, was intoxicating. It was a testament to the depths of human transformation when faced with absolute submission.
As Alana continued to oversee the punishment, her actions precise and devoid of mercy, Elizabeth felt a surge of pride. Alana was more than just an enforcer; she was a symbol of Elizabeth's power to corrupt and control. The sight of her former sisters cowering in fear only fueled Elizabeth's desire to push the boundaries further, to explore the limits of their obedience and despair.
Alana was just starting to move over to Adeline, her intentions unclear but undoubtedly sinister. Elizabeth was eagerly looking forward to seeing what she had in mind when a knock at the door rudely interrupted the ongoing spectacle of submission and pain. “Yes?” Elizabeth called out, her voice tinged with annoyance at the disturbance.
The door creaked open, and Prudence appeared, her expression one of hesitant compliance. The large-breasted nun was the only former resident of this convent still unchained - except for Alana, of course - and despite the dumb cow still seeming all but oblivious as to Elizabeth's malicious nature, she still seemed uncomfortable with having the men around. “Reverend Mother? There are some men here to speak with you. They say you’ve asked them to come?”
Before she could finish, the door swung wider, revealing several burly men behind her. One had his arm wrapped around Prudence’s waist, while others were unabashedly groping her ample breasts and hefty rear. "That's right," a gruff male voice interjected. "How about you go get us drinks, doll?"
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed slightly, assessing the situation. She hated being interrupted... but she really did need to speak with her gang: Their presence now likely meant updates or requests regarding their roles in her plan. “Yes, I’ll speak with them now," she replied smoothly, masking her irritation. "Thank you, Prudence. Go open a cask of wine. Come in, boys."
As Prudence scurried off to fulfill her new errand, the men entered the room, their eyes immediately drawn to the scene before them—Adeline and Christine, both in various states of self-inflicted torment. The two women stared in horror, shaking like leaves in the wind. The men exchanged lewd grins, clearly enjoying the sight of the once-revered nuns reduced to such degrading acts.
Elizabeth gestured for the men to approach, her mind already shifting gears. They continued focusing on the two naked nuns, grins on their faces.
After a few moments of ogling the two redheads, the men reached out to stroke them lecherously, pawing at their naked bodies. Terrified as they were, neither girl made any attempt to fight them, and while they squealed, they did not protest. They remained as still as statues as the men's dirty old fingers moved over their teenage tits and perky little asses, even as they entered the women's tight, young cunts.
"Jesus Christ," Richard exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief. "I can't believe you really got so many."
"They're all naked here," one of the other thugs observed, a lewd grin spreading across his face. "Is that normal for nuns?"
“Are you fucking stupid?” Elizabeth snapped, her patience wearing thin. She reached up and slapped the meathead on the side of the head. “No, this is how I’ve trained them. These girls have been wasting their lives in this monastery, praying to a false god. Now they’ll spend their days worshiping a goddess instead.”
Richard made a dirty grin as he leaned in to kiss Adeline's slender neck, his breath hot against her skin. “You?”
“Precisely," Elizabeth confirmed, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction. The men laughed, their voices echoing off the stone walls, a stark contrast to the silence of the tormented nuns.
As the men continued to grope and fondle Christine and Adeline, Elizabeth winced slightly. She needed to discuss their roles in her grand plan, but the sight of her captives being defiled by these crude men was undeniably distracting. She didn't mind sharing with her men, but that didn't mean she was especially interested in seeing it. Still, she supposed it was a reminder of the power she wielded, the control she had over every aspect of these women's lives now.
Reluctantly, Richard turned his attention back to Elizabeth, his hands reluctantly leaving Adeline's body. "This is fun and all," he admitted, a smirk playing on his lips as he glanced at the trembling nuns, "but you were going to tell us how we're gonna make money off this, right?"
Elizabeth's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with a mix of cunning and anticipation. "Of course," she replied smoothly. "There are a few ways I have in mind of profiting from what I've built here." The dark-haired beauty leaned back, her eyes scanning the room as she prepared to outline her plan. "First," she began, her voice confident and clear, "it's important to note that we are going to keep up the ruse that everything is normal within these walls. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm tired of being chased out of hideout after hideout or needing to carefully conceal everything we do from watching eyes. Now we have a secure space to use as a base of operations for... any plans... we make."
The thin thug grinned, his eyes lighting up with greed. "You mean like smuggling? Extortion? Things that like?"
"Among other things," Elizabeth said, her tone darkening. "With the convent as our cover, we can operate freely. No one suspects a religious institution of such corruption, and no one will look too closely, either."
Richard nodded, impressed. "That's bold. I like it."
"Second, because we are continuing to keep up the masquerade, we will also be accepting new novices. This place has always been a convenient hiding spot for illegitimate noble daughters. Now, we capitalize on that. Every family is expected to pay a dowry to the church for the maintenance of a new nun... we will be collecting those and making them as large as we can. If we work at building up a reputation and still maintain our facade of piety and sanctity, there are a lot of families out there filled with inconvenient daughters they can't afford to feed or can't marry off. Mistresses knocked up with noble bastards. Runaways and tramps. We take them all. Most families will consider this a safe haven... but instead, they'll be sending them into hell."
One of the other men, a burly fellow with a thick beard, chuckled. "That's clever. So, we just pretend everything's normal?"
"Exactly," Elizabeth confirmed, nodding. "We play the part of the pious institution, all while lining our pockets with gold. The families are eager to rid themselves of these burdensome daughters; they won't think too hard about paying handsomely for the service."
Richard stroked his chin thoughtfully. "And if we're careful, we might be able to extort many of those families afterward. After all, we hold the evidence of that infidelity."
"But what happens when they find out the truth?" one of the other thugs asked.
Elizabeth's smile turned cold. "What truth? Most families never see the women up here again. That's the idea, right? To keep them out of sight? If anyone questions, we tell them the girl ran away from the convent... hardly unbelievable.” Elizabeth shrugged. “And after all, who would believe the rumors about an esteemed Mother Superior like Reverend Mother Sylvia?"
The men laughed, the sound harsh in the stark chamber. They seemed satisfied with the plan, their earlier skepticism fading away under Elizabeth's persuasive words. Elizabeth smiled. “And if all that fails, the church is no more immune to graft than any of the other watchmen or mayors we have bribed in the past. Alcohol, gold, or women… if someone gets in our way, find their vice and make them go away. I had already planned on arranging that anyway… I’ll need to ensure that ‘Reverend Mother Sylvia’ decides to remain here as far as the church is concerned, and two heads hang as easily as one.”
"Alright," Richard agreed, nodding slowly. "What's next?"
Elizabeth stood, pacing slightly as she continued. "Third, we expand our operations. Use the convent not just as a place to hide unwanted daughters, but as a base for our... other activities."
"Third, we can expand on that idea... with the right discrete hints drops into the right ears," Elizabeth began, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as she leaned in closer to the men. "If we're already taking in plenty of new recruits, there's not really a reason we can't be paid to take less than willing novices, too. We'll offer a discreet service to nobles who need to get rid of unwanted women — mistresses, rivals, wives they want gone so they can remarry, troublesome relatives... We'll position ourselves as experts in making these women disappear from public life and vanish into the service as devoted nuns."
Richard raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "How do you plan on advertising that?"
Elizabeth smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, very quietly. We'll spread the word through the right circles. Nobles talk. The right people will know where to find us when they need our unique services. We can make it look legitimate rather than them needing to slit someone's throat and hope it doesn't blow back on them."
One of the other men, a burly fellow with a scar across his cheek, nodded slowly. "Sounds risky, but if done right, could be real profitable."
"Exactly," Elizabeth affirmed, her confidence unwavering. "And it keeps us connected to the upper echelons of society, which is always beneficial."
"Is that it?" Richard asked.
Elizabeth stopped pacing and faced them, her expression serious. "Of course not. We will have dozens of nubile young women under our control. Women that no one expects to see again. Women that we can do whatever we want with them. They're not our captives, Richard... they're our whores."
The men exchanged glances, curiosity piqued.
Elizabeth leaned back, her eyes narrowing as she outlined her plan. "First," she began, "I'll train these women myself... with some help. I'll break them, mold them into the perfect little sex slaves. Shatter them until they're eager to please, completely submissive."
One of the men, a burly fellow with a scar across his cheek, raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that?" he asked skeptically.
Elizabeth smirked, her gaze flicking towards Christine and Adeline, who were still trembling under the men's hands. "Look at them," she said, her voice low and confident. "These two are already there. Fear is a powerful motivator. We'll use that. We'll use everything—pain, pleasure, humiliation. They'll learn to do anything to survive."
Richard, still standing close to Adeline, chuckled darkly. "Sounds like a lot of work."
"Enjoyable work," Elizabeth purred with a smile.
The thug grinned as well. "Turn the convent into a brothel? I like that idea."
"Oh, hell no!" Elizabeth said, shaking her head. "I don't want to bring anyone here, bring suspicion on the convent. Once they're trained, we whore them out elsewhere. I plan to send teams of our boys traveling around to collect new novices and dowries anyway... when we do, they will be taking teams of whores with them to put them to work. They'll be our merchandise, our gold mine. Imagine the demand for well-trained, young, pure women who are willing to fulfill every depraved desire."
The men exchanged looks, some grinning, others thoughtful. Richard grinned broadest of all. "I was hoping you would suggest something like that..."
"You think they can make it as whores?" a thug asked, skeptical.
“I think If you idiots can’t resist their charms after all the women you’ve had your way with, imagine how ordinary travelers will feel looking at them," Elizabeth said with a grin.
The men murmured among themselves, nodding and smiling as they considered the possibilities. Elizabeth watched them, her heart racing with excitement. She could see the future unfolding before her, a future where she was not just a bandit and a captor but a queen, ruling over her own sordid empire.
"Hell, eventually, we can sell some of them off," Elizabeth said with a shrug. "Consider the possibilities. I'm sure there is more than one person who can pay and would rather have a trained, tamed bitch as his legitimate "wife" that no one questions than some harpy. The options are endless."
Richard whistled softly, impressed by the depth of her schemes. "You've really thought this through, haven't you?"
"Of course," Elizabeth replied, her confidence unwavering. "I don't do anything halfway. This is just the beginning, gentlemen. We are going to turn this convent into a gold mine."
Richard glanced at the two redheads, his interest piqued. "What about these two?" he asked, nodding towards Christine and Adeline. "What's your plan for them?"
Elizabeth's gaze lingered on the trembling women, her expression a mask of cold detachment. She had spent months breaking them, molding them into submissive playthings through relentless abuse and degradation. Yet now, as she looked at Adeline and Christine, something within her had shifted. The thrill was gone; they no longer held the allure they once did.
With a heavy sigh, Elizabeth waved a dismissive hand, her voice tinged with boredom. "They're ready," she declared, her tone flat. "Take them away. Let them entertain the men tonight. I'm done with them."
The room erupted into chaos as the men eagerly obeyed, their hands pawing at Christine and Adeline more aggressively than before. The two women screamed, their terror palpable as they were lifted off the ground, their legs kicking helplessly in the air.
Richard grinned, clearly pleased with the prospect of using the nuns for his pleasure. "Sounds good to me," he agreed, his eyes scanning the room. "But what about the others? You mentioned training them earlier."
Elizabeth nodded, her mind already racing with plans. "Yes, I want you to take a few of your men and do some... skill testing," she instructed, her voice dripping with dark amusement. "Find the five best cocksuckers among the nuns. They are going to be the first ones we focus on in training."
Richard raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the challenge. "And how exactly are we supposed to test that?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Use your imagination," Elizabeth replied, her tone teasing. "Make it fun. Make it memorable. Just make sure you find the best ones."
With a nod, Richard turned to his men, barking orders as they eagerly prepared to carry out their new task. The room filled with laughter and lewd comments, the atmosphere charged with anticipation.
As the men began to lead Christine and Adeline away, their screams echoing through the chamber, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. This was just the beginning, she knew. With each passing day, her control over the convent—and the lives of its inhabitants—grew stronger. And soon, very soon, she would have an army of trained sex slaves at her disposal, ready to do her bidding and bring her untold wealth and power.
The thought sent shivers down her spine, and she smiled wickedly as she watched the scene unfold before her. Yes, this was going to be a very profitable venture indeed.
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