(Read Part 1 here.)


Neither Kyra nor Felicia had spoken a coherent word or fully closed their legs in nearly two weeks.

Their parents had been firm that they were to be shipped together to the Convent of Lesba, run by Proserpine priests near the south-eastern border of Cadeland.  And the requirements of the convent were strict – all aspirant females must have their clitoris and their tongue pierced.

Kyra’s father, a jeweller, had performed the piercings for both girls, as Felicia’s father held them down.  The girl’s tongue was extended, clamped so that she couldn’t withdraw it into her mouth, and then a quick stud was fired through it.  As the girl’s eyes bulged, and she screamed incoherently around her abused tongue, a second piercing would be made through her clitoris, while her legs were trapped spread open by birthing stirrups.

Each girl had been given a large barbell tongue-stud, so heavy it made it difficult to move her tongue and impossible to speak intelligibly – or even fully close her mouth – and her clitoris had been fitted with a large iron ring, whose size kept the tip of her clitoris constantly poking out from her cunt lips, and which prevented her from comfortably bringing her legs all the way together.

The trip to the convent was long, and it would give the girls plenty of time to heal from their piercings.  They were sent by carriage, over winding, bumpy roads, and they each spent it nude, their hands cuffed behind their backs, staring at each other from seats located opposite each other. 

Felicia saw almost nothing for those entire two weeks but Kyra nude, handcuffed, spread-legged, drooling, and by the time it was done she had begun to think of that as Kyra’s natural state.

Felicia’s father accompanied the girls in the wagon.  He was grumpy about it the entire way.

“You know, Kyra’s father and I discussed the possibility of just raping both of you girls straight,” he told Felicia.  “You know you’ve always been something of a cocktease, and a father has rights.  But there’s always time for that after the Convent are done with you, and the Proserpines believe that a woman’s first rape by a man should be something *special*, so we’re leaving the two of you in the slutty state we found you.”

With the thick piercing in her tongue, Felicia couldn’t even speak well enough to thank her father for not raping her, so she just rubbed her naked tits against his face instead, a common way for daughters to apologise for fathers in Cadeland.  She felt so ashamed that her lesbianism had brought her to this point, and that it had impacted her father’s reputation.  But rubbing her tits against her father’s bristly beard just reminded her that she wasn’t lactating – another point of shame – and so she went further and nuzzled at her father’s crotch.

She felt his cock stiffen in his pants, pushing against her cheek, and she knew what would come next.

“I may be avoiding raping you,” her father said.  “But there’s no reason you can’t be a cum-target, Felicia.” 

Felicia could say nothing in response.

Her father took out his cock, and began pumping it, staring at Felicia, and at her nude girlfriend. 

Felicia was repulsed – she simply wasn’t attracted to cocks – but it was objecting to a man cumming on her that had gotten her into this position, and besides, this was her father, who she loved, so she just sat there and tried to look pretty and obedient.

Soon, her father began breathing heavily, and shortly thereafter, cum spurted from his cock and splattered over Felicia’s face and tits.  Some of it got in her mouth.  She blushed.

“Good girl,” said her father, standing up and wiping his cock clean on her face.  He gave her nothing to clean herself with, and so Felicia sat there with her father’s cum dripping off her cheeks and udders.

Later that afternoon, her father became aroused again, and this time he used Kyra as his cum target.  Felicia thought that Kyra looked rather pretty with her face and tits covered in cum.

It was not the last time during the journey that he ejaculated on either girl.  He urged the girls to think of it as a compliment on their appearance, and Felicia tried her best to do so.

Finally, their long journey ended, at the Convent of Lesba, an imposing stone monastery built into the side of the vertiginous mountain known as the Chastened Whore.  It was cold here, and the wide paved courtyard in front of the monastery was dusted with a light surface of snow.

Felicia’s father had allowed the girls the warmth of a heavy fur blanket as they ascended the cold mountain road, but now he took it off to prepare the girls for their entry into the convent. 

The girls’ piercings were by this point well-healed, and it was safe for him to remove the large ring from Felicia’s clitoris and replace it with a smaller one, barely larger than the clitoris itself.  He did the same for Kyra.  Then he removed the cuffs from the girls’ wrists, and replaced them with different, silver-metal bands.  Rather than connecting these bands together, he instead placed the girls’ hands behind their backs, then ran a silver chain from each cuff between the girl’s legs, and connected it to their clit ring.  The girls needed to hold their hands close to their buttocks, or else tug agonisingly on their clit.  They would be forced to walk slowly and carefully.

He left their large tongue studs in – there was no need for them to talk – but attached a leash to each girl by connecting it to her nipples with a pair of heavy clamps.  The girls squealed incoherently as the clamps bit into their tit-flesh, and squealed again as Felicia’s father yanked on the leashes to lead the girls out of the carriage and into the freezing cold courtyard.

They stumbled along awkwardly as he led them towards the convent gates, completely nude and unprotected from the wind, trying to keep their bare feet off the cold stone, trying to avoid accidentally pulling at their clitoris, trying to keep up with Felicia’s father so the leash wouldn’t yank on their tits.

Felicia couldn’t help but think that Kyra looked pretty like this – nude, vulnerable, scared, restrained, and in pain, with the latest load of her father’s cum drying on her face and tits – and realised that she must look pretty in similar measure herself.  She felt a confused surge of gratitude to her father for making her pretty, even as she resented him for the pain and humiliation she was experiencing.

As they approached, the large bronze gates of the convent swung open, and a man in a hooded red robe emerged – a Priest of Lesba.

“Greetings be upon you,” said the priest.  “May pain and shame be upon your women.”

“Ah.. thank you,” said Felicia’s father, who knew something of the ways of the Proserpine Church but not enough to know the holy words to say in return.

“Are these the bitches you wrote ahead about?” asked the priest.

“Yes,” said Felicia’s father.  “This is my daughter Felicia, and her lover Kyra.  We caught them in a secret lesbian relationship.”

“Their sin in this instance is not their sluttish lesbian desire,” said the priest, “but the fact they did not share it with you.  Women are driven by their cunts, and not given to rational thought, and thus it is natural for them to slut and whore like animals with others of their kind.  But their sexuality exists only for the benefit of men, and thus lesbianism exists for male pleasure.”  The priest nodded.  “Do not worry.  We will correct them.”

“When should I… come back for them?” asked Felicia’s father nervously.

“We will send for you when they are ready,” said the priest, in a tone that did not invite further questions.

“Ah… very good,” said Felicia’s father.

The priest held out his hand, and Felicia’s father passed him the girls’ leashes.  As he passed them over, he looked at Felicia.

“You girls be good, now,” he said.  “And when you come home, everything will be much better for all of us.”

With the heavy stud in her mouth, Felicia couldn’t even say goodbye to her father.  She just watched him turn, and walk back to the carriage.

The priest looked at the two girls.  “Tell me, sluts,” he said.  “Do you love each other?”

Shivering, nude in the cold air, the girls exchanged glances, and both nodded.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” said the priest.  “Because by the time we are done with you here, you will merely regard your lover as a rapetoy – an object that one hurts in order to achieve orgasm.  An object much like yourself.”

And with that, the priest yanked hard on their tit-leashes, and the girls squealed, and stumbled forward, into the Convent, to begin their new lives…


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