Debtor's War

I have tagged this story carefully but just in case, it's not a "nice" story. It follows on from Debtor's Promise, the supernatural elements are more prominent in this it also contains non consensual sex.

Bad things happen to people who probably don't deserve it. Themes include addiction, mind control, slavery, sacrifice and blood play.

__________________________________

August 1529. Before our eyes Vienna became a fortress. History has remembered general Salm as a hero, because he was, in every sense of the word. Without his stalwart leadership, legions of Ottoman soldiers would have ravaged us. The sultan swore to put a dome on St Stephen's and dedicate the cathedral to his heathen god. The spire still towers above the city of my birth, almost everything else is gone but it remains. God rest your soul, old Salmo.

And I? There's not much difference between the nineteen year old girl I was and the woman I became, barely five feet tall, ninety pounds soaking wet. I was lean and tight, built for endurance; what madness I endured!

Commander Enzo of the Black Crusaders kept me and clothed me as his errand boy. Before he took me in I was destitute. Everything I had, I owed to his kindness.

He taught me to defend myself with ruthless efficiency. In the drillyard of the barracks was a sandbag hung from a whipping post, and day by day my knuckles grew calloused, thumping it in punishing sequences. He hung up a dead pig and made me practice sticking it for hours with my little knife. Growing up with eight brothers I had some idea how to throw a punch and wrestle, but that summer Enzo made something lethal out of me.

I'd served with him half a year, endured his other proclivities for about six weeks when he gave me a fat little purse of coins.

"You've earned double. Don't want you thinking I've gone soft."

It was more money than I'd ever had in my life. Almost enough to buy my freedom, so fucking close, but looking at him smiling at me I didn't know what I wanted anymore.

"Maybe I'll buy some cloth for a gown," I said.

"You should. Perhaps we'll make a decent woman out of you."

I pursed my lips, tried not to scowl, it amused him. We made a mockery of decency.

He delighted in making me helpless in bed. I loved to feel him force his prick into my wide open mouth, bullying my little tits until I swallowed him deep into my throat. If only that were enough, I could have tolerated him for years. Loved him? Perhaps. But at least one night a week he made me suffer. My friend Tamas had sussed it from the very first night. Enzo was much worse after going to take his orders and receive wages. I wondered what was so bad that he had to take his frustration out on my body.

I wondered in a detached sort of way, and didn't waste much time on it. It soured my affection, but there was a life outside his bedroom. A good life compared to all I'd known before. I never went hungry, and I didn't even need to spend a penny on fabric. Enzo got me enough soft green wool for a winter gown.

The weather really turned on the eve of Roodmas, mid September to you. Much of the remaining harvest was flattened by gales. What couldn't be stored was ruthlessly ploughed back into the field, ensuring the Ottoman invaders would find no succour. Some people objected to Hoffmeister Salm's decree but they were strongly put down, their possessions confiscated, and their punishment made an example to others.

The city was locked down tight by then, waiting for the fight of its life. Traffic through the one unbarricaded gate was minimal, most traders had shut up shop. Army units drilled on the cleared ground. Nuns and friars served the desperate poor a daily hot meal with bread, folk that would have gleaned the fields or starved in times of peace.

As commander Enzo's 'errand boy' I had a duty to pass through the gate with messages and I made use of it that afternoon. I kept my head down and jogged upstream beside the Wien until I came to a boggy stand of willows. Well hidden among their treacherous waterlogged roots was a hidden cache of glazed earthenware flasks. As I had every Thursday for three weeks past I pulled a few out, squirrelled them away in my bundle, and continued up the river to the western checkpoint.

I waited about half an hour. Eventually they sent out a nervous looking lad to take some flasks and a scroll case full of encoded orders. I added his coins to the purse around my neck. Then I doubled back on myself and headed to the checkpoint downstream. This time Enzo's loyal customers didn't keep me waiting, but eagerly opened the gate for their spirits. Along with the orders I handed over a pair of daggers someone had already paid for.

The gatekeeper discreetly ushered me into a back room. The week before I'd earned half a dozen silver coins working on my knees, and I hoped for the same again. Not from him, the middle aged captain was barely interested, but horny young soldiers stuck on sentry rotation were a captive market.

The first was a sullen man of about twenty five. I got the impression he'd be happy to stuff his prick in anyone's mouth, there was no 'chemistry' as you'd call it. He'd paid me well enough the week before.

The second was a tall lean youth I didn't know. He watched me from the doorway as I took the first cock with an odd mix of desire and revulsion, then he just stood there as his comrade patted him on the shoulder and left.

"Don't you want my mouth?" I wiped the spit from my chin with the back of my hand.

He stood gawping at me.

I shrugged. "Something else you like?"

It was odd that the others gave him privacy. I usually had a queue at the door by the second customer.

"Might we see your body?" He asked softly. Very well spoken, a minor noble perhaps. "Your breast?"

"Sure." I stood up and guided his hand to the laces on my shirt. I was still a little embarrassed by my tits but by then I knew men had varied tastes. He loosened the knot and exposed me but didn't touch. I carried Enzo's marks.

"Do they hurt?" He asked.

I rolled my eyes and smiled. "Old bruises. Not much to look at." I leaned in and cupped my hand against the bulge in his breeches. "You're so hard."

"Do you

want

to kiss it? Or perhaps does someone make you..."

I grew irritated then. "Do you see a knife at my throat? Take it or leave it lad."

"I'll... I want to take it." He clumsily unfolded his trousers allowing his needy cock to spring free. A thatch of dark blonde curls at the base, the gentlest curve to a solid arrow head. Thicker than Enzo, and dare I say, a touch longer. I wanted to taste it, by god I wanted more.

"Your cock is beautiful," I sighed. I sank to my knees and plied my new skill on this untried youth, he burst between my lips in less time than it takes to write about it. With tender strokes I licked every trace of semen from his shaft and to my excitement it began to harden again. "So beautiful and so powerful," I breathed.

"Daniel," he stammered.

"You want me to call him Daniel?"

"No! I'm..."

"You shouldn't tell a whore your name, my lord." I stroked that shaft, marvelling at his innocence and his appetite. "Tell her what you desire."

"Oh... more of this," he said, "but your poor mouth..."

"Feed me your beautiful cock?" I gazed up at him. This was no game to me, I felt the need for satisfaction as keenly as I had once hungered for bread.

He still held back and I could see why. He clearly wasn't an utter bastard.

"Fuck me then?" I said weakly. "Please, my lord?"

Guileless. Unskilled. Heavenly.

I pulled down my woolen breeches and let him have me from behind, my poor neglected cunt was in heat. He used me so gently though, I thought I might die of frustration. I frigged myself, bounced back and met his thrusts, rode his beautiful cock and ascended the gentlest of slopes to heaven. "Don't you fucking dare stop!" I twitched and clenched as I spent, so of course he had to stop. He pulled out and sprayed his seed across the back of my thighs.

I laughed with delight as I turned to kneel again, covering his perfect member with kisses. He looked down at me debasing myself with wonder in his eyes. Yes, the old lie is so obvious once you give yourself up to pleasure. It is no sin, no sacrifice at all. It was the only power I had.

Once Daniel had me it would have been unfair to deny the others. By three in the afternoon I was limping back to the river with a fixed grin on my face. "Fuck!" I whimpered as I squatted in the water, jilling myself off again to the memory of it. Daniel was a virgin no more. I scrubbed myself almost raw before drying off on my headscarf.

Lighter than air I breezed back to Enzo's quarters and made a start on my new dress. I thrived walking the crooked path between the law and men's desires. I refused to dwell on what the night would bring. My master believed he owned every little bit of me, inside and out. He slept in my arms as I recalled Daniel's beautiful cock.

In the slow quiet of a brothel morning, I visited my twin sister, brought her some of Neni's pastry for breakfast. We were both well fed and decently dressed, but she was always the more thoughtful of us, dreading the future and fearing the worst.

She licked out the apricot jam from the centre and sat holding the empty shell. It was bizarre to watch. Only a year ago she'd have snapped it up like a starved terrier.

"So scouts came in last night from the east," I said, "It's happening. Buda fell a week ago, word is any day now they... are you not going to eat..."

"Our souls... are

damned

."

I couldn't think of a kind way of saying that was nonsense. Yet I still lit candles for our dead mother and brothers, faith is complicated.

"We were damned thieves before." I shrugged. "God made us destitute, who are we to deny his plans?"

"You shouldn't scoff at things like that."

"What's changed?" I said, a little angry. "Milking cows, milking cocks, what's the fucking difference?"

She smiled then, a little of the old twinkle in her eye. "We'll be too old to milk cocks one day."

"So save your money. Stop wasting it on this shit." I kicked the empty flagon on her bedroom floor

She picked up the mug and set it on the wicker chair by her bed. She went so pink you'd think her cheek had been slapped. "Miss Gerta doesn't pay me. I've yet to learn my trade."

"What..." I was going to ask, what's to learn, but I bit my tongue.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Piss on that! She's not giving your arse out for free. Claudia? She's taking advantage of you."

"Yeah." She smiled more bitterly that time. "You have no idea."

I left it at that. My sister wasn't in a position to do anything about it, and neither was I. She helped me take up the hems of my simple new gown and underclothes, and I gave her a good sized piece of leftover linen for a veil.

We saw smoke on the horizon by midmorning. The wind blew from the east, squally and shrill. Clamouring on the air were distant sounds of steel and leather, men and horses, an end to our uneasy peace. On the walls the patrolling knights and guardsmen made loud fanfare and cheering, but among the crusaders a more sombre mindset prevailed. The die was already cast, they said. Would it be enough?

Thousands of ordinary people cowered behind the fortifications and beneath the churches, knowing that their wooden dwellings would offer no protection against catapult shot and cannon balls. My estranged father and brothers were lodged at the Dominican priory, a sturdy medieval building. Neni stayed at the barracks to cook and clean for us. The other Magyar women sheltered at St Stephen's where the priests offered prayers day and night.

Enzo kept me by his side at the West gate. I imagined the crusaders raining fire from the city walls. Each of the eight gate towers was topped with a heavy ballista. Along the walls, arquebusiers and cannons made a formidable defence. The enemy were not foolish enough to throw their lives away so easily. Instead, they positioned themselves out of reach, encircling the city with their bloated forces. The army of Turks and troops from their vassal kingdoms numbered over a hundred thousand.

Before a shot was fired, a small caravan of three wagons broke away from the encampment and made for our west gate. It was barricaded shut.

"He'll send terms," Enzo murmured to me as the troops banged and clamoured, "hostages will be exchanged."

They drew the noble emissaries up the walls on wicker trestles as the rowdy jeering continued. They were escorted to the cathedral where Salm had set up a command centre. Rumor had it the Sultan demanded the conversion of the entire city, ridiculous terms. Within the hour a mocking reply was sent back.

What now?

Three days and nights passed in uneasy truce. The men worked in rotation, sleeping eight hours, patrolling eight hours, it made the days blur together and sleep never came easily. Enzo had a lot on his mind, sometimes he'd share it with me. I'd clean his gear down, fetch and carry for him, bank his fire down; a sort of mundane service similar to our days on the road. A lifetime ago before my body always ached.

He took to sodomizing me at least once, sometimes twice a day before I was allowed to sleep. I never really healed, but I suppose by then it was normal to feel used and sore. My heart would race in panic every time his hand came to rest on my puffy rim, but most nights he seemed content just to fuck me there. Most nights.

Sometimes if his awful games became too brutal I could detach myself from the experience, observe my body grunting and rutting, fucked, nothing but a receptacle for my master's filth. Often that separation just didn't happen, and he'd kiss my tears and call me his dirty girl as I begged him to hurry up and come.

Teasing slaps and spankings quickly developed into regular beatings. He might belt my arse or tits as he pleased. I could take a dozen cruel cuts from the buckle end, find myself kicked out onto the cold floor afterwards like a dog, creeping back under the covers only once I heard him snoring. I could brace myself for the worst, only for him to lay each stroke of leather like a lover's kiss, bundle me up in his arms to sleep. It was not something I could control. Sometimes he just needed to hear me scream.

What kept me there? I had no hope of a different life. I had nothing to offer a better man. He shaped my lust, so much so that even now I would rather give pleasure than receive it.

The increased abuse didn't go unnoticed. Say what you like about men, most are decent human beings. No-one ever teased me, or even said a cruel word, they were courteous and respectful. The women began to avoid me though. Even Neni.

Tamas was always there for me despite his jealousy. It would have been ten times worse to suffer alone. Talking about it would have been shameful, but of course, he already knew. I asked him why he cared so much, and he was cagey with me, both about his own experiences and about what Enzo was capable of.

"The day you run is the day you die. Don't ask, Elizabeth, you're a smart girl. You have to stay strong."

One day when our rest period fell in the afternoon, Enzo was particularly cruel to me. I tried to be quiet, but it was too hard. He throttled me until I blacked out. When I came around he was sleeping peacefully, open hand still resting on my throat.

It left me so shaken, I hardly knew what to do with myself. I couldn't bear to close my eyes again so I dressed, covered up my bruised neck and went to the common room. Someone put a bowl of broth in front of me and left me to my silence. It went stone cold, my throat was too tender to swallow more than a couple of spoonfuls. What was the point?

An older veteran inserted himself into my quiet brooding, Radu was his name. Enzo leaned on him a lot, trusted him to lead at times. I was wary of him. He usually had little to say, especially these days with the men split into different shifts I rarely encountered him. Clearing his throat, he sat across the table from me.

"Not hungry?"

I stirred the bowl of thin broth and tried to ignore both him and the oozing wounds on my tits.

He shrugged. "Tonight we'll need our strength."

I glanced up at his bearded face. Sharp blue eyes, Roman nose, hair once black now iron grey. Unreadable expression.

"Thanks. I should sleep." I pushed the wooden bowl towards him but he caught my hand before I could try and stand.

"There are two wars to fight." He glanced behind himself before continuing. "Glorious battle between kings and emperors, that's a man's game of battalions and siege engines." His uncanny blank expression broke into a half smile.

I sat in silence. I could feel my quickening pulse in the bruised flesh pressed against the wooden bench.

"That's not our war." He set the bowl aside. "Never has been. Enzo's stupid keeping the truth from you. Any fucking idiot can see that."

"I'm not having this conversation with you, Radu." I swallowed my nerves but my voice cracked anyway. "I belong to master Enzo."

He nodded. "Agreed." He stood up, made eye contact with the only other mercenary in the common room and stared at the poor man until he left. "Enzo and I are blood brothers. I have his back, especially when he gets stupid. Understand?"

I shook my head. My mouth was too dry to speak so it came out like a little squeak, "For fuck's sake, what's your problem?"

"Stand up."

I stood, knees quaking. I forced my shoulders back and met his intimidating gaze as best I could. He smiled, I thought I detected a hint of unfamiliar warmth in it.

"You're scared. Good. Keep up that attitude, she'll like it."

She? What? "Is Enzo married or something?" I would have laughed if I wasn't exhausted. "What the fuck are you talking about!"

"Tonight. He'll send you on some bullshit errand but you follow him instead. Prove you belong with him, Be there for him, and

know

when he needs you."

I glowered up at him, convinced he was shit stirring for some reason.

"I have no right to my master's secrets," I said. "I'm his cock sleeve, his punch bag, Radu. Nothing more."

"Maybe you are. Maybe that's all you can be. I doubt it though, sparrow. This is the longest he's kept a girl in years." He took out a small bundle wrapped in silk and set it on the table. "What will you choose?"

I ignored it and met his question with a silent stare. It was only when the door swung open that I snatched it off the table and stuffed it under my shawl. He made a little nod as he left.

I sat back down gently and sipped the cold broth little by little. I smiled and nodded to those that acknowledged me, the strange bundle tucked under my arm.

Across the courtyard sat in the stinking privy I unfolded the silk. It was some sort of carnival mask with a hood attached. I'd never seen anything like it before. It was fine white porcelain, painted with blood red tears on the cheek. It was shaped to fit over a person's eyes and nose leaving their mouth uncovered, but the hood was more of a snood shape, so the fabric would drape across the lower face.

Needless to say, it unnerved me. For the first time in my life I had no idea what to do next. "I should run," I whispered to myself.

The day you run is the day you die.

No doubt in my mind. How many girls before me had tried?

"I could go to the... the nuns." Yes, perhaps I should have gone to the church and done penance for the rest of my days. Actually there was a pretty good chance they'd have beat me bloody and handed me back to my lawful master. Or burned both of us alive.

"I could..." there. It happens to the best of us, it could happen to you. I imagined myself diving off the gate tower, falling sixty feet down onto my head. No more pain.