Alais

November 16th, 1999

Alais is a tiny island off the coast of Australia, further east than Fraser Island. It is one that you will not find on any map. For all intents and purposes it is an island that does not exist. Take my word for it however, it is as real a place as any in this world. It is a land of both the noble and ignoble, the fair and the crooked, the pure and the tainted. It is the land in which I was born.

Over the years it has become a forgotten land, as though it had sunk into the very sea, and if I am able to find a way it will one day find its eternal resting place beneath the waves. Only a handful of men know of its existence, and, I suppose, myself.

As you might read from any history book, Australia was a penal colony for the British Empire long ago. Alais was no different, except that it was the original site used to jail the exiled. An impregnable temple was erected in the center of the island, housing the twelve Bishops entrusted with the oversight of the entire colony. They were the wardens. They were the all powerful of Alais. Their command over the people went unquestioned, and soon, as generations came and went, did these men become gods as the truth was all but forgotten.

I questioned once, after I found my way from Alais and learned the truth, why men would so willingly leave their homeland, to live in such a distant place. The answer I most quickly discovered was us, myself and my sisters.

February 28th, 1999

The girls of my homeland were raised to embody only a single virtue, purity. To me, I remember, Alais was pure. It was the Eden, the Paradise, the Utopia the world around us called it. My mother nurtured me, showering me with all the love a daughter could ever desire, and my father raised me to be strong in both mind and body. I suppose that is how I survived my transition into becoming a woman.

I remember the night vividly, just as any girl remembers a man's first touch.

There were twelve of us. We had all just reached our 18th birthday. The oldest was a girl named Selene, and she was just four weeks older than myself, the youngest of the group. We had been preparing for this ceremony for our whole lives, so when the day finally came not a single one of us was able to contain our excitement.

Being of a poor family I had never felt anything but the touch of cotton against my skin, but this day I was bathed and dressed in the softest, most exquisite of fabrics. The very feel of them against my skin made me shiver with anticipation. I had asked my mother what the ceremony was to be like, and she had answered, before she began to cry inconsolable tears, that they would make me feel like a princess.

I truly did come to feel like royalty for that night. The gown made of cyan lace wrapped my body so closely I felt as though I were one with it. The monks tied a similarly colored ribbon in my hair, and they painted my lips with a beautifully scented mixture that made them glow the most radiant of reds. They then brushed the exposed skin of my face, arms, and chest with the softest of powders, as though it had been made of clouds, and like glitter my very flesh sparkled. I had never felt so happy. I wanted to remain this beautiful forever.

Like all things in this world, I suppose, it was not to last. At times I question why they even bothered clothing us so decoratively, when in the end it would all be taken away.

We were led into the audience chamber to meet with the twelve Bishops. They awaited us around a large circular centerpiece that appeared softer, and more inviting than any I had ever seen before in my life, and they soon approached us to take each of us by the hand.

I must admit the gods were not what I had expected. I had been told that man had been made in their image, but the men I had known were nothing like these creatures. They appeared too large for their own bodies, their faces round and bulbous, and their stomachs hanging down over their belts, soft and amorphous. I remember my father holding me as a girl, his arms strong and firm, but when the Bishop took me I felt only to be embraced by his lust and sweat.

His lips quickly pressed down upon me, smearing the beautiful paint that had made my lips glow. They soon traveled down to my neck and to my chest, his warm saliva stealing away the glitter that made my skin shine. I remember crying out for him to stop, but he said to me, in his repulsive, rasping voice, that only he could make me into a woman, without him I'd be nothing but a girl.

He tore from off of me the gown that had made me feel so special, and he tossed me down upon the cushioned centerpiece. It was soft beneath me, but the Bishop had already disrobed, and his body on top of mine felt horrid. His putrid breath ran all down my body. His ravenous tongue spread his unholy spit all over my skin. His firm erection, and the moist saliva that tipped it, pierced me between my legs, and it made me cry out in pain.

I cannot recall how many times he drove himself inside of me, only that I cried out for him to stop with each of his thrusts. He kissed me from my neck down to my chest, taking my tender flesh into his mouth and sucking upon it until it turned red and sore. He used his tongue to taste me, and after toying with my delicate nipples he would bite me firmly, seemingly drawn only deeper into his activities by my pained yelps.

I yearned for him to taste the flesh of my body, only because when his lips sought each curve of my neck, chest, and stomach, I did not have to endure the vile taste of his tongue within my mouth. It was the only time during the whole ordeal that I felt myself able to breath. But then again I breathed only to fuel my cries, for his hardness driving in and out of my once pure body never ceased its lustful motions.

I must have heard a thousand cries of fear and pain between myself and my eleven sisters for each moan of ecstasy that sounded from the twelve Bishops. I remember the one that laid on top of me freezing in midair, as though a chill wind had caught hold of him, and I remember wishing that he would never move again. It was in that moment however that I felt his warmth fill me, so completely that my body could not contain it all and much of his wet seed spilled out of me, running down the flesh of my legs.

He leaned over me once more. He licked the skin of my breast and he bit me upon my nipple. He had a gruesome smirk upon his ugly lips, and his laugh was revolting, but he congratulated me. He congratulated me on becoming a woman, and in that moment I cried, for I knew that, at last, my ordeal was over.

I covered my eyes as he lifted his body off of mine, and it was the greatest weight lifted from off of me as I felt his shadow recede and move away from me. I thanked them, as they requested me too, but my true thanks was for the end of my suffering, to no longer have to feel his vile flesh inside of my own.

I was naïve to think that such a comfort would last.

The one shadow had exited to my left, but another soon came to appear from my right. His taste was even more repulsive than the first, his touch was even more forceful. His one hand gripped the back of my neck, and his other took hold of the long blonde strands of my hair, pulling upon them violently and drawing me near to him to kiss his erection.

I could taste the scent of the previous girl still upon his hard flesh as he forced himself inside of my mouth, and the remnants of her suffering, the very same ordeal she had been made to endure that bound the two of us together as sisters. It made me flow tears like a river, even more powerful than they had been, to look over to her, her own cries still sounding like all the other girls as her body was taken and ravaged by the Bishops' lust.

This Bishop cared only for my mouth, and for that I suppose I should be grateful. He used it to his pleasure, violent and uncaring, but he spared the rest of my body his touch and the pain of his penetration. He used my tongue, making me grind it upon the underside of his penis as he thrust himself in and out of me faster and faster.

And then, like the last, he froze in time, holding my lips tight against his body, releasing his hot seed inside of me. His hardness already so deep inside my throat, his vile warmth had nowhere to go but down inside of me, and he would not let me pull away until I swallowed his ungodly, dirty taste down my mouth.

That night I learned of ten more vile positions of lust, and was made to take in the seed of ten more vile men. By the night's end I had been filled so completely with their semen that my body could no longer contain it all and it came to coat nearly the whole length of my skin. At the start of this night I had never felt more beautiful, but by the end I had never felt so ugly.

I remember myself crying, laying upon the soft, cushioned centerpiece of the chamber hall as the twelve Bishops finally left us. Then I remember being taken again into someone's arms, someone from whose touch I did not retract. Her skin was soft, and it was the first touch this night to embrace me with a tenderness, but it made me cry even more.

"Briya" I had heard Selene's voice call out to me, and it beckoned me to open my eyes. My vision was blurry from my tears, but I could see that so was hers. She held me so warm and so tight, but her skin as well was so slick with the Bishops' lust that I had difficultly holding her in return.

I remember then that Selene kissed me once upon my lips, and though I had met her for the first time only hours before, I felt closer to her in that moment than I had to anyone in my entire life. We had both just endured the same ordeal, we could both do nothing but lie and hold each other amidst the remnants of the Bishops' ceremony, and we both had reason to cry endless tears, but despite her suffering she spoke to me words that I will never forget, words I will always love her so deeply for.

She had told me to let go of my own pain, to let her draw it out from within me with her kiss, and to let her bear it for me in full. I didn't have any choice but to cry even harder then. She had a strength that night that I did not, and to offer it to me like she did will bind my soul to hers forever. I did not tell her, and I suppose now I may never get the chance to, but I did not let go of my pain when our lips touched.

I sought to draw out hers.

March 3rd, 1999

I cried within my mother's arms for three straight days, hiding from the world in the corner of our home, that is until the day my father's creditors returned to bear their impatience down upon him.

It had been four months since they had lent to him the money to purchase the machines that would aid us in tilling our fields, but it had only been two since the early spring monsoon had devastated our crops too severely to make any profit, and in the end my father had fallen into even deeper debt. They struck him, I do not know how many times, like they had each month upon the day, but I was horrified when, as the men turned to leave, my father failed to move, to return to me and my mother when we called to him in fear and in terror.

He would never return, it took me long, long months to finally accept the truth. His creditors realized this very soon however, before they had even reached the door to leave. They were not in the business of beating their debtors to death, it did after all result in their own loss of money, but they had underestimated the weakness their repetitive monthly visits, combined with my father's long, tiring days out in the fields, had instilled within him. I remember it was then that they turned to both me and my mother, the glint in their eyes revealing that though they had lost one hundred silver pieces irrevocably, they had found a way to turn a profit in this entire ordeal.

They touched me secretly the whole time that we were forced to ride within their carriage, one grabbing at my chest and stomach with his large hand, while the other reached beneath my dress in an attempt to rub from me my warmth. They did the same to my mother across the seat from me, one even lowering his head between her legs and hiding it beneath the cover of her dress, moaning endlessly about her wonderful taste.

They stopped so suddenly however as the carriages drew to a halt, straightening our ruffled dresses and smoothing them with their hands, attempting it seemed to hide evidence of their crime. They took us then into the grandest building to stand upon the whole of Alais, that is except for the Bishops' temple, the house of the Lord Aleksander Sturrin, my father's creditor.

Upon entering I wondered why a man who embraced such luxury to his life would concern himself over a matter of one hundred silver pieces, the very knocker that rested upon the marble gateway of his domicile worth more than what my father had borrowed four months past. It would only be after weeks of living with him that I fully understood the true extent of the greed that resided within the Lord Aleksander's heart.

We were brought before the lord of the manor. We were payment, the men that had taken us from our home told their lord, to settle a man's debt, and that we were now in the Lord Sturrin's service. I could not believe my ears, but I would come to be told by the other mistresses of the manor, that in Alais such a precedent was accepted by all those of power who mattered. Naively I had hoped that this man required what talents I possessed, that my service would come in the form of tilling fields and harvesting crops. My naivete was not let to last for very long however.

He offered my mother to the lot of his male servants, and each one, unwilling to cede to the lust of another man, sought to claim her at once. They began to ravage her, right there in front of me, tearing her beautiful dress to shreds from off her body. Five men there were huddled around her, their penises stiff and erect the very moment their pants dropped down upon their legs. One immediately claimed her vagina, thrusting his full length deep inside of her, and another claimed her mouth, doing the same from the opposite side. Again I naively hoped that that was all that she would be made to endure, but a third, taking hold of her by her hips from behind, slid his hard shaft between the cheeks of my mother's bottom, claiming her in a way I never before thought a man could claim a woman...

My heart nearly stopped as I watched my mother violated. I many times wish it had in that moment, for then I would have been spared my memories of being taken to the Lord Aleksander's private chambers.

Everything in the Lord Sturrin's manor was extravagant. His roof stood high enough it seemed to house a giant, and the chandelier that hung from it held more candles than I had ever seen at one time in my life. His bed was large enough to accommodate over a dozen people it seemed, yet there were only two people to fill it tonight, the lord and myself.

His penis was far larger than any of the Bishops' had been as well, and he told me that it would be my guardian when I was good, and my warden when I was bad. I never once, in the six weeks that I lived within his household, ever felt it to be my guardian.

It was nearly the size of my forearm, perhaps a touch shorter, but easily just as thick around. It took the both of my hands simply to wrap the full circumference of it when he commanded me to stroke the length of his shaft. Sitting back upon my heels as he knelt upon the bed in front of me it reached up between my breasts, that I held tightly together for him, and into my mouth. I sucked him, vigorously and aggressively that first night, tasting his seed three times, simply out of fear that he would want to use me in the other ways that his servants had used my mother. He truly was a giant compared to me, and I didn't think my slender body could take it.

He was content in using my mouth for the first three hours, for the first three explosions of his warmth, but for the fourth he lifted me from my knees, bending me over so that I rested on my hands as well. I cried and I begged for him not to, my flesh still sore from when the Bishops had claimed it, but he entered my vagina with his monstrous penis and opened me up wider than I ever thought was even possible. He entered me with only an inch of his shaft at first, but over the next five hours he molded my body around his manhood, working his way in deeper and deeper until all fourteen inches of him were buried inside of me.

Many would have looked upon me as fortunate. Simply being allowed inside the Lord Aleksander's manor was blessing enough for those who would forever be denied the opportunity, let alone being a member of his court. Moreover, I, after our very first night together, quickly became his favored concubine.

He requested my company in the same manner he requested his meals, three times a day and prepared in the most appetizing of fashions. At times I was dressed in the most elegant of gowns and dresses, and in others I was wrapped simply in a pink ribbon tied in a bow around my slender chest, set upon the Lord Aleksander's bed as though I were a gift to him to enjoy before the night's end.

I quickly got to know the other ladies of the manor, almost all of whom found themselves in the lord's service in the same way that I had. They instantly took a liking to me, and I to them, for in a household that consisted only of the Lord Aleksander and his servant men, we were the only friends the others had. I spent every free moment that I could with them and with my mother, every moment that the Lord Aleksander didn't request my service. They were constantly preparing me surprises for when I returned from the lord's private chambers, they were always doing whatever they could to make me smile, and I loved them all so deeply for that, but I could sense, from even the start of that first week, that it was all born of a pity, a guilt.

I had enraptured so completely the lord's lust, so much so that his eye never turned from me. Girls that had dreaded their weekly call into his chambers found themselves free of all their worry, but at the same time they knew their freedom had come at a price, and I had unfortunately become it. They would do whatever was in their power to make me laugh whenever they had a minute to spend with me, for they knew that I now spent much of my days crying in the Lord Aleksander's embrace, as they had once done.

April 15th, 1999

It took me only a single day outside of the Lord Aleksander's manor to understand just how much life had changed. I had found my way out of his grasp one night while he slept, and I ran for hour upon hour, never turning back lest it slow my step. When at last I fell, my body unable to carry me any longer, I found myself in a place I didn't recognize.

Before I had turned eighteen I had been protected from men's lust, the laws of the Bishops stating that a girl must remain pure, so that they may be the first to touch and taste their flesh. These laws were strict I would learn, and the punishment even stricter, any man who dared break it robbed of their manhood and their desire to ever again touch a female intimately. Now that I was a woman, and the Bishops had had their way with me, I would never be able to look upon Alais in the same way. I despised the Bishops now, and all that they had done to me. I had come to learn their secret, as all us girls do upon our eighteenth birthday, that they are not Gods, but vile men, and so they no longer offered me their protection, forcing me to fend for myself, alone, in a world I no longer knew.

I had run so far I no longer recognized anyone's face, and no one recognized mine. I was no longer the young girl my townspeople had known since birth, but I was a young woman, beautiful and wandering alone. I had bought my first meal on the very few coins I had managed to stash away in my pockets, but after they were gone I quickly found my stomach ill at ease, refusing to cease its rumbling until I found a new way to soothe it.