The Celestial Whore 3- Late Mother | Late Son

BRED FOR LOVE

Perhaps had she had not had a kind whore god mother. Perhaps had she not had a cathouse of sisters, she might have endured life. At least she always thought so. Many of them were orphans or were sold there and their god mother mentor had spared both the rod...and them. And despite them all learned how to please a man, including with detailed anatomy diagrams and music instruments and dirty pillow talks, it was more like a library garden with dreamily swaying banana leaves. Made holiday sweets and dumplings with each other. Somehow they made that place theirs.

She still remembered how they reacted when he plucked her hand from that house. A dashing general after all, and that was like a prince from the story books. The way her sisters who were not born her sisters were squealing around her and chatting about her many happy futures. She must have had a stupid smile too, she thought looking back, as she smiled to herself. She should have thought more about the streaks of masquera she found on her whore god mother's cheeks. And how she cannot spare them from life. Maybe, just maybe she was too cruel to let them have dreams. 

BRED TO RULE

The oldest of the men could remember when Lady Yue was not always the bitch in silk. In fact there were a times when she tried to liven up their barracks with rounds of expensive white liquor. The men could also tell that she was always afraid of something...which turned out could be anything. They could tell though she was born with that huge silver spoon in her mouth she had always been as skittish as a bunny. It's just that she happened to be born a rich bunny that could have paid for a lot of things that scared her to be torned to pieces. So that spoon also became that humongous stick that disappeared up her silky ass.

And what she feared the most, was losing the things she never knew how to quite keep~ not that her coin monger father failed to scold her for it her entire life. And one day, that fear became a face that walked right into the gate of her expensive Suzhou mansion, which her lord father had bought for her lord husband for future favors. With pale flawless skin like snow. Who came in with that form- fitting robe of hers, with that stupid smile of hers, thinking she was going to make new friends there, thinking she could be one of her friends. With no name to her own name, and raised among whores on how to be whores.

And it was then Lady Yue, who had been assured of herself as beautiful, who always wrapped herself in expensive silks, felt fear. She felt the deepness of her smile lines (though she never smiles,) she felt the belly she gave him which life never gave back to her, she felt the age that always seemed to never spared her, and most of all, she felt his eyes wander away, and his deflated cock flab inside, and his eyes wandering further, and the love for her children all turned to that woman's boy.  

This is Chapter 3 of the story. First Chapter of this story in this link. 

Chapter 2 could be found here.

The basalt walls of the citadel loomed before the lumbering carriages at the end of the snake like causeway, an island of stone midst the lake- like expanse of flooded rice paddies that acted as its moat. Lady Snow peered out her window, her red swollen eyes searched the ranks of the armored defenders on the wall for a glimpse of any one of Ah Yao's inseparable friends. The delicate gift box clutched tight in her trembling hands.

If anything “fort” was an understatement. It looked like an island at the center of a vast expansive moat. Only 5 long causeways lead to its few narrow gates. It was a thing designed to withstand tenfolds of foes in outrage.

But it looks like they too had been sent into the jaws of danger by that spiteful shrew whose wagon lurched behind her own. A third. She quickly estimated, judging by the number of sentries posted to keep the watch, at least a third goaded out by that haughty order. 

The fort's gates yawned open, and the solemn procession filed in - the lacquered carriages, the columns of armored riders, the banners snapping in the chilling wind. As the carriage rumbled through the gates, her roof's gilded dragon on their eaves strained against the low hanging gate arch. Dismounting, Lady Snow's delicate features betrayed nothing of the turmoil within. She swept through the courtyard, her jade hairpins glinted in the dying sunlight. 

Inside, it was the size of a small town, furnished with its own commander's gardened mansion flanked by a stone barrack. In decades past, when the Tang held such lands it was a comfortable desk job resort for officials with connections. For old mandarins to retire and develop hobbies between caged songbirds, swaying banana leaves and living off the tax he was given the right to skim from the locals. Locals in this instance, who were families, wives and daughters whose villages dotted this haughty lonely magnificence beyond the vast moat. 

Her world had narrowed to these walls, her son beyond them. 

The courtyard was abuzz with activity as the entourage arrived but only amounted to a humble welcome. Soldiers scurried to receive the noble passengers, their armor clattering. Lady Snow emerged, her porcelain face betraying none of the anguish within. Beside her strode Lady Yue, her thin lips curled in a smug smile. 

The Lord- Commander's women's arrival was met with solemn nods, the soldiers' weary faces etched with the weight of the missing comrades.

That night, as Snow sat sleepless in her chambers, alone at her window, she watched the wall's braziers bloom. A slip of Ah Yao's note for her in her hands.

"I'll be late Mother. 

But I'll see you."

Then the sounds of distant hoofbeats shattered the stillness. 

The sounds of screams echoed through the walls. Torchlight flickered on the horizon – natives, at first thought by the sentries on the walls to be her lord husband's native auxiliaries in these lands, but now all flying Lord Qin's banners. 

 "Lord Qin's men surround us!"

As the defenders flooded out of their barracks they scrambled to their stations.

Snow too found herself rush to the ramparts, in horror Snow gazed out as the besieging army of Lord Qin surrounded the fortress from 4 sides. 

Smoke plumes rose as the attackers probed the defenses with nimble archers on horseback. Hoarse cheers~ in the thousands joined the rumble of traction catapults, the clash of steel, the anguished cries of the wounded -  thunderous boom of bomb fire throw by the catapults shattered the silence. 

Days passed in a blur of smoke and blood. The winding walls became teemed with haggard- arrow stuck soldiers as they caught breaks between firing and being hit by bolts and arrows. Their eyes were hollow as they glimpsed the swarm of enemy banners in the distance. Each man's head lost with thoughts of their extended families, their own houses in the villages right beyond that moat, as the besiegers took up residence in billeting inside where their families  lived. 

Supplies too soon dwindled. On day 3 while a young lad barely a man was racing along the walls with bundles of arrows and bolts from defender to defender a crossbow bolt went through his face and stuck there. Snow rushed to him and tried to wrap up his face with her bandages he croaked:

“I still have to see my kid”- pointing at far off dot of light, where Qin's banners fluttered along his family's roofs. 

“I'm a father now~” and slumped into a heap. 

His blood made flowers on Snow's white dress long after he died. For she did not let him go. 

When they finally- though gently, pulled his rictus-ed form free, Lady Snow straightened, then hastened back to her quarters. The guards paid it no mind, for she was a sweet woman after all, and much to graceful. And then minutes later she appeared on the battlements again, her dress into new strands of new bandages for the men. 

Most of them, including the newly dead lad, had lusted after "Lady" Snow. But after those days, they began to dare imagine they could love her. 

...or that...she could love them

They buried him next to the walls in a hastily dug pit of rare solid earth. 

And she was seen more often on those walls. With her sewing kits and basins and bandage slings and canteens. And she was seen by the villagers beyond the walls and across that moat. And so they began to say: “So that's the Hoa chó cái tuyết, (Chinese Snow Bitch) that our trapped men are dying for. The pale whore's whipped husband's not even here, yet still they need to sale their lives short.” And so too did Lord Qin and his encamped men, for teasing them with this fort. 

That Hoa chó cái tuyết, they agreed. That celestial snow whore. As they buried effigies of their dead sons and husbands. Whose names were related back from the placards of those battlements. And after some 50 in that week, the defenders stopped, for fear of reporting more. That celestial snow whore.

A battle was joined after the first week, a true scaling attempt from all 4 directions, the siege began in earnest, the thunderous clash of steel echoing across the moat. Charging men were cut down peppered with defender's bolts and arrows and the rattan mantlet barges sat on fire as soon as they neared the basalt walls. Qin's eyes popped with maddened fury as 100, then immediately some 300 of his war-bred men and native troops were down, turning into swirls of red coiling dye in the moat. The defenders cheered that sunset, they had revenged themselves tenfold and proved their name. And then, Qin's mood changed as he was informed of the item's arrival.  

She was with her faithful Annamese guard when it happened, the one she liked best but never told. Snow's delicate features betrayed no emotion as she paced the ramparts, searching the distance as distant rumble of hooves shattered the momentary lull. Riders burst through Qin's camp, their horses foaming. She watched the unfolding chaos below, uncomprehending. Then, a jarring sight - a tall pole had been erected outside the walls, upon it was something familiar for all to see.

What does this even mean? How could that even, That could not even be possible. 

The Annamese, her Annamese was screaming at her. He was certainly making some noises with his hysterical face. But she didn't...wasn't thi-, thinked, thought, 想, thinking. That doesn't make any sense. That face like prop, on that pole. It looked so very much like Ah Yao. As if he was staring at her, but what does that even mean? But how could that mean? He was still having plans out there. He was still~ ...late, and~ ...coming to see

her.

But it looked accusatory. The face that she remembered of his firstest day.

Lady Snow's eyes widened as she recognized, the topknot and delicate features unmistakable. The face that she remembered of his firstest day as it loomed, frozen in a rictus of pain, as if accusatory.

Snow's steps faltered, a strangled gasp escaping her lips. a lifetime's stoicism stolen.

A keening wail tore from her lips, raw and primal. She crumpled to the ground, then a mother's primal scream. 

It wasn't crying like a person's crying. It was like a sorrowful seizure. When the men carried her nerveless body back to her bed all they knew was she never stopped shivering. But they knew well it wasn't shivers. Not when they looked at her eyes. Just stifled accusatory sounds, like that of a heaving mule or donkey. She was like this when they found her the next sunrise, except naked, and utterly careless about her clothes, and was like this when they found her at sunset, still in those shivering gurgling fits.

Her only one. Her only everything.

And the week after that the fort buried some 50 of their own more. The besiegers 400 of theirs. The men inside down to the last rations, which they had to divide more. Though the 50 dead did spare them some spare. It was the same week that the Lord-Commander's own letter arrived, his over-exaggerated calligraphy unmistakably his. Delivered by Lord Qin's messenger to the fort. Screened by a row of townsfolk who just want to look up their men on those walls. The letter says nothing of the defenders, but were for his 2 expensive women.

"It's lost, my Joys. I cannot stomach Qin's pigs claiming you. 

Please make it easy for me."

There were of course 2 snuff bottle sized pinch of fast poison attached but neither were keen to be of anything to his suggestions. His ego was always bigger than his grit. And his grit and name was now next to nothingness.

The south was very glib about not keeping Ah Yao, and his prince's good looks slithered off in waxy tendrils that contained his features. They did however remained in one woman's fevered dreams, the one who beheld it on his firstest day and would never stopped her love.

Yue's pine green robes rustled with each frantic step. Her eyes darted around the secret note brought over by her only loyal servant in the fort. It had been a great excuse to pretend it was part of the Lord-Commander's letters when it was brought in but slipped for her eyes only. 

To whichever one of that thrice scourged rat's two pets~ 

deliver me this roadblock and you'll rise in jade and gems from my warm sheets. 

- P.S. You will be fit only to address me as Master. Qin

The siege drums boomed outside again, as they have always done during the defender's time of sleep. The ring of mantlets and earthworks had been creeping closer each day as Qin's grip tightened, a relentless gnawing that set her nerves on edge. She had to get out, had to escape this doomed fortress. She cannot die. She cannot possibly suffer. Yue's eyes fatefully narrowed, then darted about the room, landing on a small cobwebbed kitchen door - a servant's exit, long forgotten. Without hesitation, she wrenched it open and slipped through the narrow passage, her silk robes snagging on the rough stone. After all Qin is a man like all others, and all men thinks with their cocks. And she's still very good with cocks.

Either be captured by the marauding soldiers, or entombed within these crumbling walls, or condemned to a slow, agonizing parade of molestations. No, she cannot imagine herself being like that. 

There was only a thin suggestion of a waned moon that night as Yue crept through the dark courtyard and weaved between shadowy alcoves. Gripping her shawl tightly, she darted toward the red painted drawbar of the gate, her delicate feet slapping against the flagstones.

Freedom, and she lunged toward the wooden bar.

But as she reached the darkened archway, a figure stepped forth, blocking her escape. With a cold effortless ease he barred the portal, locking it in place.

The figure turned around, and Yue's eyes widened. It's that Annamese guard, the one Snow has wrapped around her little whore fingers. His armor now gleamed in the blue moonlight. His eyes narrowed, seeing her intent written plainly on her features.

"Going somewhere, my lady?" he asked, his voice calm but unyielding.

Yue's eyes widened in panic. "I... I was just..." she stammered, the façade of haughtiness jittering.

Then Yue's jaw tightened, her fear barely contained by her pride. "Out of my way, boy.”

Her long nails flew at the guard's face. But he easily caught her wrists, and his grip was like steel. Yue recoiled, she thrashed against him, spitting curses, but he pinned her in until exhaustion overcame her.

Dragging her back towards the mansion, the Annamese guard's expression never wavered. Yue's bestial shrills echoed through the courtyard, The defenders, roused by the commotion, converged on them.

In the torchlit hall, faces turned as the boy marched his captive before the assembled defenders. Yue's chest heaved, her pride shattering as she met their accusing stares. Soon, they surrounded the pair, their weapons drawn. The guard met their gazes unflinchingly. "This one would have us butchered in our sleep," he announced, his vague Annamese accent carrying across the simmering yard.

Yue's eyes darted wildly, seeking any shred of mercy. But the soldiers' their faces were etched only with contempt. She opened her mouth to protest, but a guard with raw- fresh scars silenced her with a stern look. 

A third of their friends and kin. By her stupid orders.

In a flash, Yue found herself on her knees, the Annamese yokel boy's sword at her throat. 

“Do...” 

“DO IT” 

She shrilled. Her pride surging over her fear like a final balm.

"End all my wretched fears!" 

The guard paused, a flicker of something akin to understanding crossing his features. Then, with a swift blur, Yue's ornately coiffured head flew from her shoulders. Her lifeless body crumpled to the ground, blood pooling around it.

The defenders, their passions unleashed, descended upon the corpse, venting their rage and frustration upon the traitress' traitress holes. 

Meanwhile, in her lonely chamber, Lady Snow gazed out the window, the sounds of Yue's yeilding body and the men's mounting coupling in her ears.

She felt a strange detachment, as if observing a distant play. 

Did not feel anything. Nothing at all. Except her running sex

In the day that followed, the shattered noblewoman retreated into a wine-fueled haze, her gaze vacant and addled. A specter in her own fortress. 

With unsteady steps, Snow approached Yue's discarded body, still warm and still copiously leaking the seed of the soldiers who had violated it.

Their wild soured cum smelled delicious.

She knelt beside the mutilated corpse, her curious fingers sampled the of dried flakes of blood, the- of curdled, fly swarmed porridge running down its bare violated legs. Her fingers traced the gaping flat ended wound where Yue's obnoxious head had been, a morbid curiosity overcoming her. 

So she ordered Yue's mottled pungent head be brought to her, pried off from the tall pole facing Qin's men.

Kneeling beside the severed head, she reached out, her fingertips grazing the cold, still features. She could still see the faint O of her rival Yue's dying breath etched upon those once-rouged lips. 

A flicker of envy passed through Snow's eyes.  

So final - a fate she herself had not yet experienced.

Her alabaster fingers trailed tenderly over the delicate lifeless features, as if bidding farewell to an old friend or dearly departed pet. She always thought Yue was beautiful.

Or was it kinship?

Now in death, Yue's perfection was preserved. Especially in the artful way the head had been so cleanly removed.

The Annamese guard, his own heart aching, approached The mother's nude back cautiously.

Turning to the cautious Annamese bodyguard who had brought her the head, Snow's expression shifted. The vulnerability and sorrow that had briefly shown through was gone, replaced by a hungry, excited grin.

"You did this?"

Gathering her composure, Snow turned her gaze to the bodyguard. With a newfound amorous energy, she moved closer to him, her naked body on full display.

She leaned forward, her full bosom heaving, and traced a finger along his arm.

"You have done well, my friend," she purred, a drunken smile spreading across her lips. There was a twisted admiration in her voice

Reaching out, she traced the firm contours of his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through the fabric of his uniform. Snow felt a thrill of power, knowing she could command his everything. 

Snow's fingers danced down his chest, toying with the fastens of his lamellars.

The boy watched, transfixed, as she sank to her knees before him. Her fingers traced the hard lines of his body, eliciting a shudder.

They are just monkeys. What they all say of his kind.

"I have cast off all all fear," she murmured, her lips grazing his. "There is nothing left." 

She pressed her body against his, every curve molding to his frame.

"I've shed all my shame."

 

She sank to her knees before him, a supplicant before her deity. 

"I would have you take what is rightfully mine - this head, this prize..." 

her naked form quivering with need. 

"Let the men join us," she murmured, tilting her head back. "Let them paint my face thoroughly, before you discard me to the dogs."