Bedefunde, June 29th — My name is Alice. I am 24 years old, and what most respectable folk would call a common whore. I believe I am quite comely with red lips and a complexion yet unmarked by disease and men seem to like to suckle on my ample bosom as they bury their cocks in the dark wetness between my thighs, before they release their hot seed into my cunt with much sighing and moaning and declarations of love.
I have been told by some more noble and educated men while they were enjoying my body, that whoring is an ancient and noble profession, and that in ancient times fucking was a sacred rite and a way of communing with the gods. Be that as it may, and no doubt I am no better than I ought to be, I do believe that I do some good in this world by saving honest women from the peril of rape and men from the grave sins of sodomy and self abuse, and although Mother Church teaches that sex outside the blessed sacrament of marriage is a venal sin I have serviced many a priest and friar. One priest even told me secretly that the blessed Saint Augustine said that if all the whores were whipped and driven from the land, the capricious lusts of men would bring about such disorder that good government would be overthrown.
I did not choose this way of life and when I was a young girl I daydreamed of marrying an honest yeoman and bringing many children into the world. I was the second daughter of a common candle maker in the city of York, quite happy to carry out my domestic duties and help with the younger children. I never learned to read or write but I did pick up some simple arithmetic from helping my father with his accounts. When I was 18 however, tragedy struck our happy family when our house burned down, killing my beloved mother and two of my younger brothers. My father declared that he would be unable to provide dowries for me or my sisters and that we would have to earn our way in the world. My older sister Elisabeth was sent to work in the kitchens of our liege lord and Mary, who was the plain one, was given to the Church. As the prettiest, he said that I could best serve the family by using my looks, and he gave me to the local whorehouse in Gropecunt Lane.
I was very frightened when I first went there. My mother had often warned me of the terrible things that men expected their wives to do in the bedroom, but it was our duty, she said, to let them satisfy their lusts in our bodies without complaint, and if we were lucky we would find a good and kindly man to love and keep us and who would not make too many gross demands. I had seen my father naked, but it came as a shock when my first customer removed his breeches to reveal what looked like a huge snake almost the length of my forearm sticking up from his loins. I was still a virgin and this first experience of a man was very painful and afterwards I thought that I might bleed to death.
I was fortunate however, and the next man I was called on to entertain was very gentle and to my utter surprise and then joy, I discovered that what my mother had told me was not true. He did not thrust his male member into my cunt as soon as I parted my legs, but stroked and caressed me, sliding his fingers along the length of my wet slit and then into my hole. I soon felt a delicious tingling between my thighs and a strange warmth running down my legs and up into my tummy. And then, wonder of wonders, when he finally entered me, there was no pain, only an feeling of such sweetness that I almost fainted with pleasure.
On a later occasion when this man took me, he did something even more extraordinary, something I would have thought of as disgusting had it not given me such pleasure. After kissing my breasts, he kissed me all the way down my tummy and then between my legs, sucking the lips of my cunt and the hard little button that guarded the entrance to my secret places, so that it became hard and throbbing with exquisite sensations.
I cannot claim that all the men I fucked were as kind or thoughtful but more often than not, I had as much pleasure as the man thrusting into me and there were some I would have allowed to take me for nothing. I discovered that not all cocks were the same and that some were very beautiful. The other girls taught me many tricks to please a man and I discovered that I enjoyed sucking their cocks and licking their balls, especially the sense of power it gave me. In fact I was proud that my skills often earned me more than the agreed price for my services, so that as well as being able to send money back to my father, I was able to buy a few pretty things in the market such as coloured ribbons for my hair.
Strangely I never got with child, unlike most of the other girls, and I started to believe that in time I might become a bawd like my mistress with my own house and able to enjoy some of the privileges of the rich people, such as meat for every meal and good wine. Though not respectable, it was not a bad life and as I said, I believed that I was doing some good in the small world of our fair city.
Then the pestilence came and apart from my mistress and me, all the other girls, some of whom I loved as dearly as if they were sisters, died in the most horrible fashion. So it was that I found myself a few weeks ago in a strange company of folk journeying on the road to the great city of London in order to seek a new life there. Along the way to entertain each other, one or other of us was chosen by lot to tell a tale, starting on the first night with a very naughty tale of an innocent novice monk and a prioress.
Among our company was an older man of very sad mien, one Oswine, a simple carpenter. He had lost his beloved wife of many years to the pestilence and his grief weighed heavy on his soul. From the beginning he was very courteous to me, unlike most of the men of the town, who were prepared to beg me for sexual favours that would never dream of asking from their wives but then pass me in the street as if I were a piece of dirt.
I recall one priest who would get me to tie him up and whip him before fucking me in the arse — it was only sodomy if it was with a man he told me, women didn't count. Yet this same supposed man of God would the next day, if I chanced upon him in public, make the sign of the cross and call out "Beware the wrath of God you harlot, repent of your sins before it is too late or suffer the flames of Hell." I ask you, who was the hypocrite — me or him. I didn't much enjoy being fucked in the arse so I made sure he paid double for his pleasures.
