1278 Sons of Bitches

I was born in a poor Konian family on mountain edges, between sharp cliff and snowy tops, at the age when war raged among Ildok and Gratna. When I was twelve years old, my father sold me to medium Zarian merchant for a bag of Gratian silver. Just when I leaved with a caravan into the desert, father realized that merchant deceived him and instead of silver, he placed polished Ildokian iron. I enchanted gazed at hard-shelled camels and awed at spacious sandy desert through which we rode. When I got in the magnificent Zarian city, music beneath the tents awaited me, where men gathered to speak and smoke, merchants on the street and beautiful colors of silky veils which joyfully played over us on the wind. Never until now have I ever seen so many people at one place with wide smiles over tanned faces. They leaved me a brand over hand and gave me to work house chores. Among the servants were many children and old folk which probable ended up the same way I did.

– From where do you hail? – I asked one old lady which franticly grasped the broom.

– Shut it, girl, and work as commanded. – she spoke in unexplainable fear towards the master.

They rarely fed me, and master came to visit me more frequently in late hours to fornicate with me. He gently spoke all sorts of twisted fantasies into my ear, while forcibly held my face in soft pillow and furiously penetrated in my young womanhood. Son of a bitch wanted to use me until I get my first blood, because he didn’t wanted to risk pregnancy for which the Council of Whispers would make him acknowledge the child. Mistress knew what was he doing, she even saw us once by carved window while she held a little boy face between her legs. I was just another pale, dirty little girl to them, which came down from the mountain into the civilization, to whom they can treat her like a bitch. When the old Master noticed the same, they had a fight, and young merchant had to sell me. I switched masters and lived as his personal slave whom he enjoyed to torture. A month later, some bandits killed the son of a bitch because of debt, and threw his body in manure where it belongs. They threw me out on the street to take care of myself among the other beggars and thief’s where I lived from the little gold coins I could to beg for and find in muddy gutters where Zarians threw filth when sweeping the streets.

Tea maker picked me up and gave me crumbs of bread in hands as a job of waitress. His gorgeous daughter paid me some attention and turned me into a real woman when I was fourteen years of age. I started to live lighter, sweeping tables, learning how to behave in company of men, flirting with customers while dancing on their laps beside which was always my hand gliding for extra coin. One night, a fat Zarian have let him self too freely and leaned towards Masters daughter which stood as remarkable beauty, bound for a good marriage, so I opened him with a meat knife from beard to the waist. A commotion occurred, insufferable noise, because that son of a bitch was commander of cities guard battalion, disguised in a civilian robes. Master thanked me for saving his daughters honor, but I still got thirty whips over my back and eternal residence in most repulsive and horrid brothel which Zaria had.

„Son of a bitch abandoned me as soon as he saw that his job might suffer. “ – were the words running my head as I walked out from huge noble court where Sultan judged me personally.

I hated them all with fire of hundreds of Sundars, because they treated me like some horned dog drifter. They made us drink bitter tea every morning so the seed won’t stick and smoke hookah from which we would lose strength to fend ourselves. Sweaty, fat, stinky stable men and drunkards were my regulars, until a war broke with Ildok, then a young soldiers from surrounding villages which didn’t knew better came to me more and more. Months were passing silently, and a frightening amount of familiar faces had left my arms as a crowd by the tables grew in wounded boys that poured kumis over their sorrow. I sensed the morbid situation, when soldiers came to fuck me weak and don’t stand hard enough for me to please myself. Other girls complained at the same thing, although they generally had a problem with bad stench of blood and death that spread in the object. As war passed through, scared boys picked me at night out of anger they had to relief over the enemy.

– Whore! You Idocian scum! I’ll kill you all, so help me Kotadar! – a drunken soldier hit me, naked and hairy.

Cattle men liked to squeeze me by the neck, slap me around, kick me while making love. My pale face, they confused with Ildokian which decimated their ranks and burned villages in which they were brought up in. “They deserve no thing better, those ugly Zarian bastards. “ It didn’t bothered me, that rude behavior, because I went through a lot for ten years here that twelve among the Konian mountains. For the first time when one of the soldiers beaten me bloodily, I thought I would die, but my scars drew them even more in my bed. „Mistress, that sick bitch, only cared for profit and nothing else. “

I even tried to understand them, in urge of wrath, and even more got interested in commotion outside of the city walls. Ildok was taking everything it could over their trip towards Zaria, and what it couldn’t pick, it have left in flames. Caravans of my people were equally butchered, because Konia cooperated with rich Zaria. People inside the walls came more restless, falling into despair, because the war was coming to knock on their doors like lava, slithering from the cliffs of Ildokian volcano towards azure coast. Zarians snatched food on the streets, ran to shelters to hide from war. Criminal rate spiked and thief’s got their fortune over greedy civilians which fought each other for a place in shelter. A month later, they closed heavy stone gates and mobilized all of the guards in state of readiness. This week brought us scant profit; even the drunkards went home sober where fat wives and noisy children waited for them.

I laughed in full lungs and almost choked with a grape, when one of the inflamed balls fell on a palace of my former Master and blew it in smithereens. At the eleventh night, Ildocians came through the city and started terrorizing the streets. There was no tent, house, villa nor a palace in which the bloody blade didn’t go through, slicing everything that moved inside. They burned the shelters, left wild beasts in them to crawl in tight spaces where knights couldn’t go through. They siege the Sultans palace with great siege towers with rough edges which were possessed with skillful swordsmen. They destroyed the city with passion in anger which I haven’t seen before. I hated sons of bitches, but not as much as Ildocians. They killed men without mercy, and raped their misses and daughters, leaving them on cold floors to bare their bastards in their wombs. Those young beauties, they snatched and took them as slaves to finish up in perfumed brothels and prestige villas of warlords that led the armies. Every whore from these obnoxious houses they treated differently from other Zarians. They paid us deepest respect and gave us valuables they took from civilians. When they stormed the palace and stole everything, they have left the city as fast as they could, like they feared the counter attack. They have left Zaria in black smokes that could be seen from the smallest peaks of Konian Kingdom. All of whores, they took with them into the stone made city of Ildok at the other end of continent and there, they welcomed us as heroes.

– We are so lucky, the war started. – huge smile decorated my friend while flower petals fell over her face, dropped from the highest balconies in tight queried streets.

– By Kotadar, we are… Just not need to see those sons of bitches again. – I commented while observing dreadfully dark city where were less than few colors.

They placed me and my friends in giant tent where we have continued to perform our duties, just strictly among soldiers. Tree nights, one of the same young man have visited me and slept. There were no hookah and anti-pregnancy herb teas which we took regularly, but instead there were big amounts of various food and women that took care of us like we were some Mistresses, shrouded in veils of silk. I felt pleasant and content because I was saved by Ildocians from those sons of bitches. I was noxious of all the suffering I had to grow trough into a woman. I was disgusted by sweaty and fat Zarian, and their twisted sexual fantasies, and the most, that deceiving kindness beneath monsters hide. I can only think of ill about Zaria, and about Zarians, nothing more than shits that are bound to be exterminated. I am glad they left it in flames, may Kotadar take note and leave it like that forever.

Little piece of joy entered my life when my belly started growing. All of the women in the tent rejoiced to the children, and one day I have heard why we are here. Sons of bitches have cunningly hid their true intentions from us. I figured; that from birth, Ildocians train army they used to conquer cities and that there is twenty year rotation between the cities. They needed us to bring them bastards, half-breed, sons of bitches to train and send to war. From our children they made, warriors, murderers, savages alike those that burned Zaria, and smokes, they were warning to Konia, that she is next in next twenty years.

sons-of-bitches

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