Part One: The Master of Westgate
Copyright 2024
Commander James Bondage
Dear Fallen Ones,
Exiles is the second novel I have adapted for my friends and fellow social deviants at ATF. It is
based on one of my earliest novels, Refugees, and set in a shattered America a generation or so after a
nuclear holocaust. The chief female characters are members of the nobility (a patchwork feudal system
in place in the civilized areas,) Lady Althea and her two daughters, Katherine and Samantha. All three
are blonde and, although it hardly needs saying in this context, gorgeous. Althea is around 30, and the
twins are 18 (I did mention that Samantha and Katherine are twins, didn’t I? Well, they are,) which is
the minimum age for females in a novel of this kind, for mainstream retail sites, at least.
Some of the more observant readers will have noted what seems like an obvious mistake on my
part, namely: how can a thirty-year-old have two 18-year-old-daughters, unless she delivered them
when she was 12? If you did spot it, I congratulate you for what sharp eyes you have.
But I left out a crucial detail. You see, the twins are not Althea’s natural daughters; they are daughters
from her husband’s first marriage. This device had 2 benefits for purposes of publication on Amazon,
etc., which does not permit either incest or characters under the age of 18 in the erotic fiction sold on
their morally responsible site. The girls and their () mother were young enough to appeal to my general
readers, and I could put them together in girl-on-girl scenes without violation of the incest rule.
Anyway, the three escape the fall of their home city, and are rescued from a fate worse than death
at the hands of mutants in the radioactive Waste, only to become prisoners of the sadistic Master of
Westgate, who through various more or less ingenious torments & tortures, reduces the noblewomen
to submission, trains them to be responsive sex-slaves, girl-ponies, and so on and so forth.
However, I did not find the final product satisfying, because it was so bland, so vanilla, compared
to my original conception. The way I really wanted to write it had no pussy-footing around with – this
or that. Althea was the mother, and the twins were her daughters, which I thought would make sex scenes
more depraved, and therefore more titillating. Above and beyond this was the consideration that, if
Althea is 30 years old, her daughters would logically have to be a more interesting age (i.e. younger) than 18.
They could not reasonably be older than 13, or more likely, 12.
Naturally, this latter version would be as welcome at Amazon Kindle as a dead otter at a society
cotillion, and would never have been permitted to sully the mighty retailer’s virtual bookshelves. Mere
submission of such debauched fiction would have gotten me banned well before it actually happened.
But now they can do no more to injure me, and I am free. Free at last! God almighty, I’m free!
(Sorry about that last outburst.)
Anyway, it is only now, 20 years later, can I make this story what it could and should have been, if
we only lived in a better world, wherein creative artists with unusual sexual quirks were allowed to
express themselves as they wish. (Sigh.)
Well, I’ve taken you as far as I can. You can go on by yourselves from here. Just follow the road
past the ruins of the strip mall and make the first left. Westgate is about a mile down the road. If you
happen to run into my old pal, the Master, tell him I sent you and give him my regards.
Commander James Bondage
December, 2024
Erdenheim, Pennsylvania
(If you have comments or criticism, or would just like to chat with an aging writer of smut,
drop me a line or two at: commanderjamesbondage@yahoo.com