Twelve Weeks since the Convent Takeover
Making a monster was like rolling a snowball down a mountain. All it really took was a little push.
With the convent completely under Elizabeth’s control, the need for keeping the nuns in cages had largely passed. The former nuns now spent most of their waking hours being played with by Elizabeth or one of the few others she trusted to not completely fuck it up, and most of their nights they spent warming some man’s bed unless Elizabeth got to them first… and that meant that for days now Catherine had had the dungeon pretty much all to herself.
The beautiful girl with her soft features and generous curves was kept caged like a dumb animal, isolated from nearly everyone… her only contact being when Prudence came in once a day to feed her in complete silence. Elizabeth didn’t want what little sustenance she received to leave her with even a bit of joy, so mostly she got tasteless flour gruel, with the only exception in the texture being when she occasionally spiced up by adding in a few crushed insects for good measure.
In many ways, Alana’s older sister had already stopped thinking of herself as a human worthy of dignity or respect, but Elizabeth suspected much of that was due to her circumstances. Given the fiery show she put on when they first broke her in, there was no doubt some residual strength still left inside her depths, which was why it was so important for them to cleanse it out of her completely before Alana headed on the road.
“It’s strange to think that I will be leaving this place,” the slender blonde said.
Elizabeth glanced at her most loyal of disciples as they descended the staircase leading down to her captive sibling. “Only for a short period,” she said with a smile. “This place is your home… but our crew needs people with a brain to direct them. You know I cannot trust any other. I know that you will remain loyal to our cause.”
Alana nodded in agreement. “I will never say a word, Mistress.”
Elizabeth had no doubts about that. It had been a little over three months since Alana had been transformed from a broken slave into Elizabeth’s partner and pupil, and that time had been horrific… but in many ways, it had almost been the best time of her life. Alana didn’t have to live afraid… she could do what she wanted, without consequences. She could take the pleasure she always wanted from whomever she wanted. Even Elizabeth’s time taking her to bed had become far more gentle, filled only with routine, petty cruelties rather than crushing ones.
It wasn’t just the incentives, however… Elizabeth had been using Alana as a weapon practically since she had arrived at the convent. Once, Alana might have been able to flee or turn on Elizabeth… but now, in order to do that, she would have to justify all the things she had done. All the girls she had raped in the cages. All the women she had taken to her bed since then. Leading the bandits into the convent and showing them where the nuns were. The utter destruction of her sister, of Cecilia, of Esther.
Each horrible thing that Alana had done built upon one another like that snowball rolling down the mountain… and with each cruelty, each sadistic pleasure, it had gained power and momentum. It would take more than a mortal effort to stop that avalanche, now.
Alana was hers, through and through.
Once they reached the dungeon they found Catherine awaiting them. She had been taken out of the cage just this morning and tied standing instead… her arms folded behind her back, and her head lowered. Despite the condition of the dungeon she smelled wonderful, filling the air with the scent of rich fresh flowers… There were even a few flowers interwoven in her hair, giving her a look of splendid innocence. Doubtless, Prudence had thoroughly washed her and prepared her as she had been instructed.
“Mistress…” she whispered with fear upon seeing Elizabeth. Even from a distance, her gloriously lewd body began to tremble slightly, the unblemished silky white skin begging to be brutalized all over again.
Alana smiled as she stepped forward. “Mmm… it’s good to see you again, sister. Have you enjoyed your time alone?”
Catherine blinked, unsure of what to say, confused as to what the right answer was. And given her predicament, the right answer was all that mattered. The only sad part was that Elizabeth could see in her eyes that she was beginning to understand that there was no right answer. That the worst was going to happen to her one way or the other.
Elizabeth spared her from needing to decide on a response for the time being. “Your little sister will be leaving this place tomorrow for the first time in years… getting back out into the world. Are you happy for her?”
Catherine swallowed. Elizabeth could practically see the gears whirling in her head as she tried to find something, anything, that she could say to convince her sister to show her mercy.
Alana’s eyes moved across her sister’s form, and she let her lip curl in a bit of a leer. “I will miss you while I’m gone, sis… but don’t worry. That will give me plenty of time to think of additional ideas on how you can apologize to me when I get back, won’t it? You’ll have to make up for lost time.”
Elizabeth approved of her pupil’s growing sadism towards her sister… Alana had, at this point, clearly internalized the reality that she was a person, and her sister was not. Her words were meant to inspire as much horror as possible in the beautiful brunette, and they did their job. Catherine gasped, her knees buckling weakly, then closed her eyes and struggled to keep herself together. “Sister, please…” Catherine allowed herself to say through trembling lips, and the look of immediate regret came upon her face. “I swear, I-”
“Shhh,” said Elizabeth mockingly as she stepped closer, brushing the soft locks of her hair away from her chest and her beautiful tits. Somehow, they looked even larger now than the last time. Could they have grown in response to that awful treatment? Perhaps her body was beginning to understand its only purpose now was to entertain.
“You should be grateful, my dear. Think about how lucky you are to be here. We are starting a new religion in this place, and you are among the first to embrace it. You are like one of Christ’s first disciples. Surely that gladdens your heart?”
Fear returning, Catherine looked down, and Elizabeth didn’t need to see her face to know that the tears had started flooding down her cheeks again. “…I just want to go home,” she sobbed. “I won’t get in your way. You can do whatever you want, I don’t care… just please, let me go home.”
“Afraid I can’t do that,” Elizabeth said with a smirk. “After all, I’ve already relieved your father by buying his willful daughter. It wouldn't do to let him down, would it?”
“Besides, we’ve come today bearing you a gift,” Alana said. She ran one finger through her sister's hair. “You were always so beautiful… the most beautiful. You’ll be the symbol of our new convent once it’s built, and we’ll be laying the foundations shortly.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Would you like to see what your sister has in mind for you?”
Before the poor captive girl could answer, Alana unfurled the small scroll she held in her hand and held it up to her. Even in the low firelight, Catherine could not miss the horrors represented there. She could see the mutilated female body hanging from a chain over the door. The figure - her - had all of her limbs cut off. The scroll was covered with detailed instructions below on the cutting process and the best way of disposing of the leftovers.
Catherine’s eyes went wide and she gasped. Elizabeth was ready for anything… a foolish, hopeless attack, begging, or just fainting away. Rather than scream or attack, however, Catherine simply stood there staring, her mouth open in shock as her eyes bulged in an almost comedic way. Instantly, perhaps out of instinct, she glanced at her sister… looking for any shard of mercy in the girl she had grown up with.
The slender blonde standing before her now, however, was nothing like the sister she had known. Elizabeth smiled to look at her, proud of her pupil… she was much more of a demon than even Elizabeth herself was.
“What’s the matter, Cathy? Don’t you like my plan?” Alana snorted. “Didn’t you always want to be untouchable, too good for everyone? Didn’t you always want to tease everyone with that perfect body of yours and never give it out? I’m giving you the perfect opportunity.”
Catherine gazed into her eyes as if looking for some humanity in her sister. Then realizing that any wrong word might lead to the fate in that drawing, she quickly dropped to her knees and groveled. “Please… Please don’t do this… I’ll do anything you want… Anything!” she shrieked. “Please…”
Elizabeth smiled inwardly to see the humiliating display and took a step forward. She placed the heel of her foot along the curve of Catherine’s skull and pressed her face down into the cold stone. “You’re such a stupid little girl, aren’t you? I can see we’ve been treating you far too well for your own good. Haven’t we, Alana?”
“Yes, Reverend Mother. She should have to work for her food and water.”
“She should. And quite frankly, animals like these don’t even deserve cooked food. Feeding her some cockroaches should be good enough. Isn’t that right, whore?”
For a moment, Catherine went quiet, her body shuddering. But then, just before Elizabeth lost her patience, Catherine finally mumbled a muffled response. “Yes…”
“You admit you’re a whore, do you?” Alana asked.
Catherine sobbed. “Yes.”
Though both of the girls had heard the reply well enough, Alana reached out and grabbed her sister roughly by her hair and twisted it, raising her up to her feet again. She slapped her hard, then grabbed one of her nipples and twisted it savagely. “Your Mistress asked you a question, you stupid, hateful bitch. You worthless piece of meat. Answer it correctly!”
The beautiful brunette sobbed hard enough that her tits shook. Elizabeth had a hard time looking away from them. “Yes, Mistress! Yes, Mistress… I am your whore, Mistress!”
Alana slapped her once more for good measure, sending the tears flying from her face. “Don’t you dare cry, sister,” she snarled. “After what you put me through, you don’t get to cry. You aren’t enough of a person to cry. Whores like you do not deserve to spill tears. Do you understand me?”
Catherine closed her eyes hard and suppressed the next wave of tears. “Yes, Mistress!”
“Don’t you think you should want to be punished for all the terrible things you’ve done?” Elizabeth asked. “For the way you’ve hurt your sister and tried to ruin her life?”
“Yes, Mistress!” Catherine’s voice was trembling so badly that the words could barely be understood, but they were loud.
Elizabeth took her own turn slapping the girl. “Then apologize to her!”
“I’m sorry, Mistress Alana…” Catherine muttered breathlessly, bobbing her head along with the words like an automaton. “I shouldn’t have teased you. I shouldn’t have let Father send you away. I’m… I’m a bad whore…”
Alana grinned and tightened the grip on the other woman’s splendid hair with satisfaction. “And for teasing me and never putting out?” the sadistic blonde added questioningly. “Are you sorry you weren’t a good girl and crawling into my bed every night? Are you sorry you were too dumb then to understand your place?”
Catherine's eyes darted between the two women, her mind racing to appease them. "I... I am sorry, Mistress. I wish you had kept me tied up in your bed. I wish you'd taught me every night to eat your cunt, to lap at your juices until you were satisfied until my face was drenched in your pleasure. If I had submitted to you then, I could do a better job of it now, and you wouldn't have to punish me so much..." Catherine swallowed, trying not to cry, and failing pathetically. "I wish you had spent the years teaching me my place. You could have kept me tied up under the bed like a discarded toy when you were finished using me, laying there and waiting for my Mistress to return..."
Alana's grin widened. "Oh? Is that all? You expect me to believe that, after what you did? After how big of a bitch you acted like?"
Catherine's voice trembled as she continued, her words flowing faster, more desperate to please. "I was a dumb whore, Mistress! I still am I dumb whore! I needed to be corrected, taught. You could have..." The sound of her swallowing was probably audible upstairs, so nervous was she. "You could have punished me every time I acted like a bitch, Mistress. Spread my legs and just... kicked me. Drove your foot up between my legs. I was a dumb whore, Mistress... you'd probably have had to kick me a dozen times a day at first until the pain became my only reality."
Catherine was sobbing now, but she still forced herself to continue. "I wish you'd done it. I wish you'd made me understand my worthlessness then, so I wouldn't be so surprised by it now. I wish you'd forced me to beg for your touch, for the slightest hint of your acknowledgement. I wish you'd made me realize that my daydreams about boys were foolish... that I belonged only to you, and that spending my life bound by wrists and ankles, buried between your legs as you used me as your personal fucktoy was the highest aspiration of my life."
Making the broken-in little rapetoy go on like this seemed to be dragging her close to something like madness... Catherine looked a little wild around the eyes. Elizabeth knew that that was temporary... but in time, she could make it true. Forcing her to imagine and say the way things should have been, filling her mind with these fantasies... it would take its toll with time. Every time she had to come up with ways it should have been, those fantasies would slowly become like memories to the beautiful girl... until she no longer even remembered a time she had been free and happy.
Making a madwoman, too, was like rolling a snowball down a hill. All it took was a push.
Elizabeth pushed. "Go on," she commanded with narrowed eyes, her voice a low purr.
Catherine swallowed hard, her body trembling with the effort of her confession. "I wish she had taken me in front of everyone, made me her public whore, so that every man in town could have seen that I was off limits... that I belonged to a woman, that my sister owned me. Let them see my purpose. I wish she had used me in front of them again and again and again until I was too sore and too exhausted to move, but she still forced to continue, because that's what whores like me deserve."
Alana's grip on Catherine's hair tightened, her breath hot against her ear. "And what else, sister? What else do you wish for?"
Catherine's voice broke, her submission complete. "I wish that you had branded me. Taken me out to the fields and had one of the stablehands mark me like cattle so I would never forget I was your property... so that anyone who looked at me would know my place."
Elizabeth's smile was cold, cruel. "Good girl. Perhaps you are learning after all."
Alana released Catherine's hair, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "Perhaps," she mused, "we should give her a taste of her own desires. What do you think, Mistress?"
Elizabeth's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "I think," she said, her voice dripping with malice, "that that is up to you, Alana. She is, after all, yours."
Alana's eyes gleamed with sadistic delight. "Then I think we should start by making up for lost time, shouldn't we?"
Without warning, Alana's leg shot out, the kick landing with brutal precision between Catherine's legs. The impact was savage, and Catherine's scream echoed off the stone walls, her body crumpling to the ground in a heap of agony. Her hands instinctively went to her crotch, but the chains binding her arms prevented any real relief.
Alana loomed over her, her voice dripping with cold mockery. "Like that, you worthless whore? Do you wish you had been kicked just like that daily?"
Catherine's sobs were ragged, her breath coming in choked gasps as she tried to speak through the pain. "Hurts... hurts... Mistress, it hurts... Please, no more..."
Alana's smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "There you go being a bitch again, Cathy," she said, her voice a low, menacing purr. And then, with a swift, brutal motion, she kicked her sister again, this time with even more force, her foot connecting squarely with Catherine's cunt.
Catherine's body convulsed, her scream tearing from her throat as she writhed on the cold stone floor. Her face was a mask of agony, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gasped for breath. Elizabeth watched with a predatory gleam in her eyes, her own breath quickening with the thrill of the scene before her. Alana's barely concealing habit clung to her body, damp with sweat, the fabric accentuating the curves of her form as she moved with predatory grace. Alana crouched down, her face inches from Catherine's, her voice a low, taunting whisper. "Didn't you tell me, sister? Didn't you tell me what should happen to bitches like you?"
Catherine could only nod, her body trembling uncontrollably, her mind reeling from the pain and humiliation. Alana's hand reached out, gripping Catherine's chin roughly, forcing her to look into her eyes.
"Good," Alana said, her voice filled with dark satisfaction. "Because this is just the beginning. We have a very, very long time together, sis... and you have a lot to make up for, you miserable, pathetic wretch. I think in a just world, a fiend like you should be skinned alive and boiled. Thankfully for you, the Reverend Mother is merciful."
“That’s true,” said Elizabeth with a vile smirk. “I am incredibly generous… Certainly far too merciful with fallen creatures such as this. As long as she can demonstrate repentance properly…”
Alana nodded. “I could not agree more, Reverend Mother.”
Elizabeth sat down on the chair, then she tapped lightly on the armrest. Despite herself, she found it a little impressive that, despite her situation and her pain, Catherine needed no instructions of any kind. She weakly pushed herself across the floor to Elizabeth as if she had actually been raised her entire life to be a subservient slut, then pushed her face between Elizabeth’s thighs.
It only took moments for Elizabeth to feel that tongue awkwardly eating her out. The inherent disgust Catherine felt about the lesbian act made it unlikely she would ever be anywhere near as talented as her sister at eating Elizabeth out, but that hardly mattered. It was precisely the disgust Elizabeth could feel through the movements of her tongue that made it so sublime and pleasurable.
As she gasped and writhed in pleasure, Elizabeth giggled and bit her lip. “You can start if you want to as well, Alana. Give her what she’s earned.”
The dildo that had been prepared for the occasion was exquisitely brutal even by the standards of the convent. It was not only massive in size, but absolutely twisted in design with all sorts of grooves and completely unnecessary spikes. No doubt it would tear apart her poor insides, but that was a problem for her alone.
As soon as Alana began to push inside of her, Elizabeth could see the change in Catherine. Her pretty green eyes lit up and her body tensed, glancing back at her sister. Elizabeth clicked her tongue. “Don’t you dare,” she whispered. “You continue your good work. If you stop, only for a second, I promise I will make that drawing a reality.”
Somehow, she withstood the pain even as Alana drove in inch after inch of that monstrosity.
“I can help you make this easier,” said Elizabeth. “Just imagine you’re in your family bed, and you are letting your sister rape you, and you need to be quiet lest your father disown you for being the filthy lesbian whore you are. What would be the best way to keep silent?”
Catherine understood. She buried her face in Elizabeth’s wet twat, muffling her screams on the other woman… her obedient, desperate tongue exploring the heat in Elizabeth’s depths. As Alana began to fuck her sister in earnest and rip her up with a wicked dildo, tears returned to Catherine’s eyes. Elizabeth really ought to punish her for those too, but it almost seemed too cruel. The poor thing had her entire life turned upside down… transformed into little more than an animal acting on instinct, humiliated in ways that Elizabeth doubted even those damned souls that made their way to hell were humiliated. Death would be a release for her… but death wouldn’t find her anytime soon.
Besides, she was so pretty when she cried.
For now, Elizabeth was content to enjoy the pleasure of this angel a little longer while she still retained that disgust that made her so delicious to force obedience from. Her hands clung to the soft locks of her hair as she groaned in pleasure, her eyes rolling back as the gentle tip of Catherine’s tongue sent waves of pleasure through her.
As for Alana, she showed plenty of emotion as well… even if her current activities brought her no actual pleasure. Putting a bitch in her place was its own reward to her now. Alana had become a true, hardened soldier of her Goddess, the type of crusader who would be willing to take and inflict any amount of pain without even flinching. With each thrust, Alana knew she was inflicting additional pain and damage on her sister, but she showed no remorse. It was truly beautiful just how little she cared even as her older sister writhed in agony and did her best to keep serving throughout.
Elizabeth forced Catherine to look at her, savoring the pleading look of absolute desperation in her eyes. They weren’t even pleading for mercy. It was more of a senseless plea out to the heavens. Why is this happening to me? they said. Her tears flooded her eyes, and her hopeless attempts to suppress them now only caused more to fall upon Elizabeth’s scorching pussy lips.
But after a few more of those destructive thrusts, even her tongue stopped moving. Her entire body froze up in absolute agony as her insides were being reworked, and her pussy was tortured into a form fit only for a lifetime of mounting pain.
“I said I’d punish you if you’d stop,” Elizabeth reminded her. “Didn’t I?”
Catherine’s mouth opened slightly as if she desired to speak. To defend herself. After all, what kind of person could put up with such miserable suffering? The pain, however, was too much. Elizabeth could see it written plainly on her features. There wasn’t even a clear expression on her face because the muscles were chaotically shifting in response to the brutalizing pain spreading through her and unspooling the thread of sanity in her head. She couldn’t move. She just couldn’t process it anymore.
“Alana?” Elizabeth suggested. “Make the whore cum.”
Alana, her eyes gleaming with sadistic delight, reached down and unbuckled the strap-on, leaving the monstrous dildo embedded deep within Catherine's ass. The pain was excruciating, but Catherine's body was too numb, too overwhelmed to react beyond a weak, shuddering sob. Alana then maneuvered herself beneath the beautiful brunette, her hands gripping Catherine's ass cheeks with a vice-like hold. She pulled Catherine's pussy down onto her face, positioning her tongue to lap at the abused flesh.
Catherine's moans were muffled, her face still buried in Elizabeth's cunt. Elizabeth, her pleasure mounting, ground her pussy against Catherine's face, the sensation of the nearly senseless girl's nose pressing into her clit driving her wild. Her fingers worked furiously at her own clit, matching the rhythm of her thrusts against Catherine's face.
"Good girl," Elizabeth purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Keep that up, Alana. Show your sister what she's been missing out on by being such a selfish cunt and denying herself to you."
Alana's tongue worked relentlessly, her hands kneading Catherine's ass as she forced the traumatized, sobbing girl to ride her face. The pain seemed unbearable, but the humiliation was even worse. Catherine's body twitched uncontrollably, her mind a haze of agony and despair.
Elizabeth's orgasm was building, her body trembling with the effort of maintaining control. She could feel the heat pooling in her core, the pressure building to a crescendo. "Almost there," she whispered, her voice a low, throaty growl. "Just a little more. Show the little whore what she is, Alana!"
Catherine's moans grew louder, her body convulsing as Alana's tongue drove her closer to the edge. Elizabeth's fingers moved faster, her hips bucking against Catherine's face as she reached the peak of her pleasure. It seemed almost like a race as to who was going to get there first.
At the precise moment when Catherine's body began to convulse with the onset of her orgasm, Alana's actions turned savage. As Catherine's hips jerked uncontrollably, her moans turning into guttural cries, Alana's teeth clamped down viciously on her clit. Simultaneously, Alana's hand found the monstrous dildo still embedded in Catherine's ass. With a cruel twist, she wrenched it, the spikes digging deeper into the already ravaged flesh. The sudden, searing pain shot through Catherine's body, mingling with the pleasure that was already tearing her apart, and the angelic brunette’s scream of absolute misery echoed through the dungeon even through Elizabeth's cunt, her body bucking violently against the dual onslaught of pain and pleasure.
Elizabeth, her own pleasure reaching its zenith, felt the waves of ecstasy crashing over her. The sound of Catherine's anguished scream vibrating her pussy was the final catalyst she needed, pushing her over the edge. Her body convulsed, her orgasm erupting with a force that left her breathless. She ground her pussy harder against Catherine's face, her juices flowing freely, coating the broken girl's features.
Catherine's world was a maelstrom of agony and humiliation. The pain from Alana's bite and the twisted dildo was unbearable, yet the orgasm that had been forced upon her refused to relent. Her body trembled, her limbs limp. She could do nothing but sob, her tears mingling with Elizabeth's cum... painting a portrait of her utter degradation.
Elizabeth's breath came in ragged gasps as she finally pulled away from Catherine's face, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good girl," she purred, her voice dripping with cruel delight. "You're learning, aren't you? This is what it means to be your Mistresses's whore."
Alana, her own face slick with Catherine's juices, stood up and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "She is learning, Mistress," she agreed, her eyes cold and devoid of any trace of mercy. Catherine lay there, a broken, sobbing mess, her body spent and her spirit crushed. "But she still has a lot to learn."
“Please… Mistress…” the sobbing brunette begged. “Get it out of me… Please… It hurts, Mistress… I can’t… It’s too big… I can’t even…” Catherine attempted to get a grip on the dildo unsuccessfully with her trembling fingers. When that failed to work, she crawled over to the wall and leaned against it as she attempted to stand. But the dildo had been built in such a way that the only way one could truly bear it at all was to lie down and keep her legs spread. Anything else would be double the torture.
Smirking, Elizabeth crouched down next to her. “I can take it out of you.”
“Please!! Please… Mistress, Please… I will do anything…”
Elizabeth smiled. “Yes, you will… “But not today. Today, I think, you need to learn your lesson. Perhaps tomorrow. Or the day after that. We will see.”
Catherine shook her head weakly, tears glimmering in her eyes. “Please, mistress… I am a whore… I wanted my sister to rape me! I wanted to be her lesbian fucktoy! I wanted to serve her every minute of every day.”
Elizabeth smiled and shook her head in a way that was almost warm and affectionate. “What do you think, Alana?”
Alana grinned. “If she can pull it out herself, she should be our guest. I think I’m not in the mood.” She stroked her sister’s face. “A piece of advice, sis? Lie down and keep your long, pretty legs spread as wide as you can. After all, that’s the position a whore like you was born to be in. On your back, with your legs spread.” The sadistic nun chuckled. “From your behavior, it’s clear to me that you’ve spent far too much time standing. From now on, your new life will have you on the floor. Consider this a teaching moment.”
Catherine reached out to her weakly, blinking out a new set of hot tears. “Mistress… sister… Please…”
The two ignored her.
Elizabeth instructed Alana to snuff out the torches, and then the two of them began to make their way up the stairs. Just until they reached the door, Elizabeth could hear tormented and ghastly bawling, a sound that sent tingles down her pussy. So beautiful.
Elizabeth had never imagined that she would have a child.
Why would she? She was a bit too fond of living to accept bleeding to death as a potential possibility of pregnancy. She had never had any interest in men, and that had been true before her father had raped her and turned her into a whore. After that, her family life had turned so bloody, and her life had been lived in such perilous conditions, that the thought of ever having a child of her own was as disgusting as it was unlikely.
And yet, despite all of that, she had one. And now, no matter how joyous the day, Elizabeth found it difficult to sleep knowing that Alana would be leaving.
Alana, who was her first in this place. Who practically offered her the key to unlocking the convent and taking everything she wanted to make it her own.
She had broken that original sweet and innocent girl and turned her into something scarcely believable. At times, even a conwoman like Elizabeth questioned if that transformation could even be real. How could a sweet and innocent young girl, whose only fault was to love other girls, be taken and turned into a demon in human skin?
For that was what Alana was now. A ruthless predator… just like Elizabeth. No doubt that when she came across the first town she was going to the people would welcome her with open arms. How could anyone resist? She would come into their lives with a sob story about how she was left without a family and being chased by bandits, and her angelic face and slender, almost helpless and childlike form would get them all to feel for her.
Elizabeth almost felt tempted to bet on how long it would take until the first batch of newcomers would be lured into the convent’s clutched by her. A week? Two weeks? A month.
Countless girls living in poverty would be tempted to seek out a convent that could provide for their needs. Countless families couldn’t afford to keep their daughters even if they did want to keep them. There were plenty of pretty young ladies from wealthy families who were unmarriable or inconvenient, and whose families would jump at the chance to remove the problem.
Elizabeth would welcome them all to their new home.
She wondered if there would be any more like Alana. Lesbians that were afraid of what they were, unable to share their passions and desires with others. Others whom she could teach to abandon their petty morals, drop their biases, and live a life where they would be free to just be themselves.
Most of all, though, she wondered how long it would be before Alana returned.
At dawn, Prudence came to wake Elizabeth. She needn’t have bothered… Elizabeth hadn’t ever managed to sleep. She was already ready to go.
Together, they made their descent to the first floor. A few dozen naked nuns were all kneeling as was their habit nowadays. Not one of them, save for Prudence who served as Elizabeth’s servant directly, would start her day without Elizabeth’s explicit blessing and permission.
“Good morning, sisters. As you all know, today is a rather sad day. The best among you will be leaving. Leaving, to make sure that our number will be growing in the future, along with our coffers.”
“Blessed be her name…” whispered Prudence.
Unlike the most of the girls who were still naked, six of them were dressed for a change… wearing the old habits, the modest ones. Prudence, Christine, and Adeline were among them… three of the women chosen to be whores on this first mission outside of the convent. Alana was among them too, dressed in her habit, and it was almost sickening how innocent she looked. Her presence Her clothing covered her up in a way that was meek and holy… there was nothing but her expression betraying just how hard and jagged and cruel she was on the inside.
“You may want to smile and work on your posture even if you think no one is looking.” Elizabeth warned.
At once, Alana seemed to shrivel before her and her muscles slackened, a fearful look in her eyes. “Yes, Reverend Mother.”
“Good. You will do wonderfully,” said Elizabeth. She gestured to one of the men, who quickly gathered up the whores who were leaving… their first wave of merchandise. Elizabeth had to fight a mad urge to pull Alana into a… a hug. “I am sad to let you go. I hope you will return soon.”
Alana nodded. “I will return in triumph, Mistress. I will bring what you desire.”
As Elizabeth watched the beautiful blonde, that feeling of sadness deepened. There was almost something like… remorse? Yes, she had sharpened the perfect tool out of this poor girl. But a lot was lost in the process. She was obedient, and loyal, but… Elizabeth realized in this moment with striking clarity that when she had first come here, on their first night together, despite everything that Elizabeth had done Alana had felt… affectionate. Grateful, to be among someone who understood her.
The razor-sharp knife of a lesbian before her who was probably wholly incapable of love now. Alana would follow Elizabeth. Even worship her. She would never betray her.
But she could probably never love her.
Why does that sting a little? Elizabeth wondered, and a crude half-smile struck the lower half of her face. Was it because that was what she had been told her entire life? That no one would ever love her? That she had no loveable trait or any ability to spring up feelings of affection in others? Not without pretending, at least…
“Mistress, are you well?” Alana asked.
Elizabeth snapped out of it and grinned back. She was being silly. Alana was still her Alana. Love was for fairytale stories… what they had was better. “The carriage is waiting for you outside. Richard is reliable enough… he listens to you. Make us some money, bring us some new playthings.”
“I will, Mistress,” she said.
And just like that, she watched as Alana walked out into the world. She would probably be back in a few weeks, or maybe a month or two… but life as a criminal wasn’t risk free. Perhaps she would never return. Perhaps, despite all of Elizabeth’s precautions, the only indication she would have of Alana’s fate would be when the riders from the Inquisition arrived at her doorstep, ready to take her to the gallows. Such was life.
Goodbye, my child.
Once she was gone, an eerie silence settled over the place. But hating any sort of bittersweet or sad feeling, Elizabeth snapped her fingers and brought them all to attention. “You all must know that with Alana gone I’ll be counting on every single one of you to fulfill her duties. Our convent is expanding. For that, each of you will need to be trained to provide us with additional funding. I expect every single one of you to perform up to my requirements… or I will need to motivate you.”
The fearful and reverential faces stared blankly at her. Funny, thought Elizabeth. Though she had technically lost her station before them and was no longer a true Reverend Mother, they almost revered her more than before. Feared her deeper.
She dismissed them with a wave. “Prepare me breakfast, and bring it to the dungeons… I will begin by seeing to Cecilia today. Rebekah, Sarah, you two are going to report to the library… I understand some of the men have been disappointed with your efforts, and are going to be demonstrating why living up to their expectations is wiser. I advise you not to make them look for you… right now, they are merely in a teaching mood. If you make them annoyed, things will devolve rapidly. The rest of you…” she clicked her tongue. “We’ll start with an hour of masturbation in your rooms. I want you to think about the importance of service as you cum. And girls, pay attention to each other’s moaning… anyone who catches someone slacking off gets the night off and desert with her dinner.”
Elizabeth put one hand on her hip expectantly. “Well? Move!”
As a mass, the remaining naked nuns scurried into motion, racing to their tasks. Still glancing at the door, Elizabeth let them vanish to go about their day. She was the last to remain in the hall, staring at the doorway, feeling a strange feeling of belonging as well as wistful longing.
She shrugged. On to the next wrong thing.
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