“The Convent of Lesba” is set in the world of Arth-Keros, a high-fantasy realm of institutionalised female degradation. Paid ATR members gain access to additional information about Arth-Keros.

Previous parts:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven

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On the morning before Felicia was to start her training in the arts of Masture, she started crying, and found that she couldn’t stop.

She had been floating for days in a haze of arousal, stupidity, and the pleasant trance created by the techniques of her teachers. But that morning she had attempted to turn her mind back to her time in Gormotha – to the uncomplicated affection she had once held for Kyra – and to the times before her father had shipped Felicia off to the convent and threatened to rape her on her return.

A wave of horror and guilt had washed over her: horror for what she had lost, and what she was becoming, and guilt for basically every aspect of her life. Guilt for her illicit lesbian attraction to Kyra. Guilt for lezzing off with Kyra where no man could see her. Guilt for her lesbian encounter being consensual, and guilt that she hadn’t raped and degraded her girlfriend. Guilt for being such a wet-cunted slut. Guilt for being so stupid, and taking so long to learn the lessons of Lesba. Guilt that right now her mouth was empty, and her cunt was empty, and she was bringing sexual pleasure to no men. But then also guilt for all the things she had done at the convent – for raping Kyra, for raping Melys, for being a whore for the monks.

And most of all guilt for having a cunt, and being a woman, and the role of her gender in bringing corruption to all of Arth-Keros.

When the monks came to get her for her daily routine, and found her crouched in the corner of the dormitory, unable to stop crying, there was some discussion, and then Father Duradel returned, and he had Kyra with him. Kyra crouched down beside Felicia, and Father Duradel sat in a chair, watching the girls.

Felicia and Kyra were both nude, and Kyra’s soft skin against Felicia’s felt reassuring and erotica. She turned her face up towards that of her girlfriend, and allowed Kyra to kiss her, and then gently lick the tears from her cheeks.

“You should rape me,” whispered Felicia between sobs. “Rape me while Father Duradel watches. Then I won’t be so useless.”

Kyra kissed her again, and then said, “You’ve been having the difficult thoughts, haven’t you? You tried to think about who we used to be.”

Felicia just nodded, her eyes wide.

“I had them too,” said Kyra. “You need to let those thoughts go. They don’t fit with the new thoughts the men are giving us. They’ll just make you hurt. There’s not enough room in a woman’s brain for two sets of thoughts, so it’s either the true thoughts the monks give us, or the stupid thoughts we think for ourselves.”

“I can’t,” complained Felicia. “I can’t stop.”

“Yes, you can,” said Kyra, and kissed her again. “The monks are kind to us. They’ve given us a way to turn off our brains. Every time we go to class, and they tell our minds to be blank, they put in a few little secret helpers, and the helpers get stronger every time. They’re special ways to turn off your female thoughts.”

“How?” asked Felicia. “I don’t know what they are.”

“That’s because they’re secret,” said Kyra. “But you’ll find them. I went to Father Duradel and he showed me one.”

“What is it?” asked Felicia. “I’d do anything to make this stop. I can’t stop crying. I hate it.”

“Just go over to Father Duradel,” said Kyra. “And suck his cock. You’ll see.”

Felicia looked up at Father Duradel, who smiled down at her – the same cruel, superior smile he always used. It made Felicia feel like an animal – like a not-particularly-beloved pet, who might equally be fed or kicked, and would deserve it either way.

She crawled on all fours to the monk, and he allowed her to shift his robes, to expose his stiff, erect cock. She lowered her head onto it, taking it within her mouth, tasting its warmth, the softness of its skin, the salty drop of pre-cum on the tip. She almost began to sob again at the sudden duality of thoughts in her mind – how part of her hungered to please men, to suck cock, to be entertaining to Father Duradel, even as part of her was repulsed and revolted to be engaging in sexual behaviour with a man. 

But then Father Duradel began to stroke her hair, and in a deep voice he said, “Good little cunt.”

And just like that, her double thoughts switched off. Felicia the lesbian was gone. Felicia who felt guilt, who had her own ideas, who sought her own pleasure, just vanished. There was only Felicia the good little cunt, who existed entirely to please the cocks of men. She almost orgasmed with pure relief at the sudden change. Not only was she no longer crying – but she was actively happy. Happy to have a cock in her mouth. Happy to be pleasing a man. She looked up at Father Duradel with eyes full of love as she sucked his dick, and he smiled back at her, and repeated that she was a good little cunt.

“See?” said Kyra. “You just have to have a cock inside you, and hear a man tell you that you’re a cunt or a bitch or a fucktoy. And all the bad thoughts go away. And there are other ways too. I think it works if you rape a girl while a man watches, or something.”

Felicia felt gratitude to Kyra, too, for teaching her this wonderful trick. She loved Kyra, she knew – even as she hated Kyra for being a woman, and wanted to rape Kyra and hurt her tits and cunt. And those were double thoughts, like the ones she had had – but they were pleasant double thoughts. Their duality made her stupid, and she knew that stupid was exactly how she was supposed to be.

“All right,” said Father Duradel. “That’s enough being nice to this cunt, Kyra. Now I want you to hurt her pussy until I cum.”

“Yes, sir,” said Kyra quickly, and reached between Felicia’s legs to pinch her cunt. She found Felicia dripping wet, and while Felicia found the abuse of her cunt to be immediately painful, it also helped Felicia find her own orgasm, at almost the exact same time that Father Duradel blessed her mouth with his semen.

And Father Duradel must have been in a good mood, because he allowed Felicia to hold his cum in her mouth, and then share with Kyra in a long, slutty kiss, passing it back and forth between their mouths using their tongues as they fingered each other’s cunts, until finally they both orgasmed and swallowed their share of the gift of cum.

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