Kas 08

Valentina’s Day

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“Hail Valentina, Maiden Goddess of War!”

What? I’m a goddess now? Me, the daughter of a common street whore in some no name village where the gods never deigned it smile at once? I guess with military victories come fancy titles. “Valentina, Maiden Goddess of War” is certainly far better than my old full name, “Valentina Whoraughter”.

The biggest shock for myself is that I thought myself and my Elite Guard would attract no attention coming into the Royal City of Chrysanthemum just before Sunrise, but no such luck. Within minutes the whole street was crowded with well-wishers shouting “Hail, Valentina. Hail, Valentina!” But after initial embarrassment, I was beginning to enjoy myself, especially seeing that some of the well-wishers were of the highest classes.

With a flamboyance I felt I owed the crowd, I had my horse stand on its back feet as I raised my sword high, letting the rays of the sunrise make my golden armor shine. The crowd shrieked in delight at the sight. I hope some artist is in the throng and will paint the scene. It is not that I have a huge ego (being the daughter of a whore weans that out of you), but I would love to see the spectacle from the onlooker’s eye. Both the horse and the armor were gifts from my patron, King Ambrose IV, given to me in pieces after each victory. If meeting my patron for the first time goes as well as my initial entry to the city, today will be the first good memory I have of this day, the fourteenth day of Duodecimo, the Feast of Eros.

Bah, what a concept. The Feast of Eros, a day spent toasting the gods of romantic love. Take it from a whore’s daughter, there is no such thing as romantic love. There is the love one gains from one’s mother, and you could call certain friendships “love”, but romantic love is a myth that skalds dream of, and refused to stop mentioning to us others.

My mother was a common street whore, and my father is unknown even unto the gods; just some random partaker of my mother’s services one night where mother’s usual safeguards to keep from being pregnant went awry. I have little doubt my existence within her womb cost her money she desperately needed, save that she did something none of the other street whores had ever imagined doing…using her mouth in place of her fleshy scabbard that all men wish to place their swords of flesh within. When I hit puberty mother taught me the trick, in case I would ever have need for it. After all, what future is there for a whore’s daughter than to be a whore oneself?

Oh, that fateful day four years ago. King Ambrose’s army had failed him again, and our village was being taken by looters from the conquering army. It was that day I last saw my mother alive, as she was violently raped before my eyes, sacrificing her own self in hopes the enemy soldiers would not find me. But alas they did. I was not going to allow them access to my pristine scabbard easily, and grabbed a spatha sword I found in a closet, hoping to harm at least one of them before they raped me and killed me like they did my mother. With a high-pitched whoop that my mother taught me was the sound of the banshee, I felled the first one, and then the second, and then the third, and then the fourth and last. I knelt in front of my mother. Seeing her bleed the rest of her life away, I took some of her blood and streaked it on my forehead and cheeks. I dashed out of our hovel and ran to find more enemy soldiers, endeavoring to kill as many as I could until one at last killed me, to take away the pain I felt from the blood of my fallen mother. As I saw each soldier I gave my battle shriek, terrifying them with my appearance as I took my spatha and thrust it wherever I saw an opening in their armor. From behind me I heard others shrieking, and saw the other youths of the village take the gladius dropped by my victims and followed my manner. Within the hour we had killed the last of the looters. After setting forth a burial pyre for the victims (including my mother, alas), the youths swore to be my band.

When you expect to die at any moment, and have little to live for, it makes you daring in battle. Soon my little band grew more and more. With guerrilla tactics we went against the enemy, with each victory gaining us increased members as the youths of each redeemed village wished to join us. It was not long before I drew the attention of Chrysanthemum, who began to sing my praises. It was two years ago that I gained the title of General. There were generals at the Royal City who hated me for it, but King Ambrose told them that, had they been half as good as I, it would be them getting the praise and not me. But I had nothing to worry from those generals, none would want to displease the King, and my initial band still remains my personal bodyguards. The only worries I had was during battle, where enemy officers would shout at me, saying they would ensure I was no longer a maiden general by piercing my fleshy scabbard with their sword of flesh, but fortunately the Fates denied şişli escort them, and to this day no man’s sword of the flesh has penetrated me. Having seen my mother defile herself with me who used and abused her, and hearing the various nightly screams of mother’s fellow whore, I never wish to allow a man to do the same to me.


At last, I made my way to the royal castle. Sitting on the throne was King Ambrose IV himself. He was a widower, with the last queen dying in childbirth, taking the heir she gave birth to soon afterwards. The scuttlebutt was that both mother and stillborn child were weak, and for that reason both died. The shepherds say that the royals did too much inbreeding with one another, and like common animals they become weak if their lineage diverged little. Shepherds took care saying this, as nobles care not for being compared to animals. I never thought too hard upon this. Looking at King Ambrose, with his short brown beard and aqua-blue eyes, that here was a man who has seen much sorrow, but for some reason is rebounding. I hope I was the cause for this.

“HAIL, KING AMBROSE!!!” I shouted as I raised my sword high, standing proud, and seconds later kneeled in front of him, sword point touching the ground. “I, General Valentina of the Whispering Woods, have come as you requested.”

“HAIL VALENTINA, MAIDEN CONQUEROR OF THE ALASTRIANS!!!”, shouted King Ambrose, raising his scepter high, and then lowering it. The court followed suit, “HAIL VALENTINA, MAIDEN CONQUEROR OF THE ALASTRIANS!!!”. I heard the city’s population seconds afterward shouting the same praise. For a simple whore’s daughter, this was heady stuff.

“You honor me greatly my liege.”

“No more than you deserve. The Kingdom has no need to fear the Alastrians for a least a generation or two, and by then the tales of your heroism will inspire our future generations to turn them back as the curs they are.”

“Thank you, milord.”

“But, you have arrived at an early hour? Perchance you wish to beat the robin to its earthly meal?”

“I was hoping to arrive simply into the city, but I had no idea I would be so recognized.”

“When a land thirsts for heroines, they with quickly slake from the juice of victory a heroine provides. Now come, let us dine together. The Royal Court…is dismissed. You know to return when the sun is at its zenith.”

I followed him to a private chamber behind the throne. It was the prettiest room I have ever seen, yet masculine just the same. It reminded me of the simple one-room cottages I had seen in my journeys, but the items were far grander, as befitting royalty. The table was of fine mahogany, and the bed was plush. I would think a king would have a separate bedchamber. King Ambrose saw what I was gazing at.

“Yes, I keep a bed here as well as in my master bedchamber above. In times of war and other great stress, I like having a single room where I can perform all the duties of state quickly. Now come partake in breaking our nightly fast.”

I had heard of this morning ritual, shortened by some as “breakfast”. Growing up, we ate whenever we could, as food was sometimes hard to acquire, especially during the raids. It was a gorgeous feast, with sliced ham and fresh strawberries practically radiating their deliciousness. It was complimented with the oddest porridge I ever had, made not of oats but of some fine grain I had never seen before. Our beverage was grape juice spiced with what King Ambrose said was cinnamon, noting the curiosity upon my face.

“Thank you my liege, I have never had a finer meal.” I meant it; the berries were delicious.

“You are welcome, Valentina. There are Royals who have larger breakfasts, but I will not be as wasteful. A few different foods, complimentary to each other, are enough.”

“I live to serve you, my liege. Now that we’ve have broken our nightly fast, please tell me how I can next serve your kingdom. Give me the names of your enemies, and I will smite them with my spatha.”

“I have already decided how best you may serve the kingdom, which I will inform you of in good time.”

“Thank you, King Ambrose…”

“Please; when we are alone, you may simply call me Ambrose. Consider it another gift.”

“Thank you… Ambrose. I am grateful to give the citizenry of Chrysanthemum a valid holiday, as opposed to the nonsense holiday typically celebrated today.”

“We have no preordained holiday today in Chrysanthemum. Tell me, what is this holiday you speak of?”

“In the village I hailed from, today was the Feast of Eros, which celebrates a silly notion, that of romantic love. Such a silly notion.”

“Why is such a feast a silly notion?”

“In my experience, there is no such thing as romantic love. For the peasantry man and woman match up based on availability. Also, although you would know better than I, for the royalty the families choose the mates. All the rest is simply the lust of men, who took it from the whores of my village however they could, either by prepayment, or by rape. There is no thing as romantic love…true love. It is the myth perpetuated by the local skalds.”

“The bards of Chrysanthemum sing the same stories of this ‘myth’, but I like to believe it is possible. Like you said, my first wife was chosen for me, but I would hope that a second would shave a romantic love with me.”

“I am surprised that such a wise king is such an idealist.”

“I was born under the stars of the dreamer, which I have always hoped would influence me to lead my people well.” He paused. “I think it is time to discuss your future.”

“I am prepared, milord.”

“First, this will require you to be of the soundest body, as it will not be an easy task. First, take off your armor; there is no one left here to impress.”

“Of course, milord.” With that I took off my golden breastplate, now clad simply in my tunic adorned with the jewels Ambrose have sent me on the various occasions of my victories. As I flexed myself from the relief of removing my armor, Ambrose rang a bell. In a few seconds some female servants came within the chamber.

“Maza, Dionna, please take General Valentina to the bathing chamber. Once she is done, have her return here.”

I followed the servants to the bathing chamber. I have only bathed in creekbeds, and that was seldom. Water came from wells, and a whore and her daughter would never be allowed enough time to draw enough water to bathe; we were lucky just to attain enough to drink. Maza helped me with my tunic as Dionna prepared the water. It was a novel experience, stepping into the warm water, as opposed to the cool water I found in the aforementioned creeks. I was surprised when Maza started washing me.


“It is OK, Queen Valentina. We are accustomed to helping one bathe. We assisted the late Queen Aisla on all her baths.” I must admit that it felt good. Maza’s hands were washing my breasts, which were the size of modest cantaloupes. Dionna attended to my hair, and it never before felt fresher.

“You are ready, General Valentina. Now stand, we have a few final preparations for you.” I nodded, almost regretting leaving the water. I looked at the water’s color and never realized how dirty I must have been; this must be what it is like to be a newborn. “Now, please open your legs, General”.

I did as they requested, and was then surprised to see the razor in Dionna’s hand. Maza took some soap and carefully smeared it all around the hair covering my fleshy scabbard, after which Dionna used the razor to remove all the hair there.

“What…is this?”

“Relax, this is completely normal. This ensures your cleanliness.” They finished drying me, and gave me a robe of the richest scarlet. “Now, wear this.”

“But my tunic…”

“…Is in seriously need for a washing. Trust us, General Valentina, all you need is this robe. Now, time to rejoin the King.”


“Welcome back, Valentina.” King Ambrose was sitting upon his chamber bed.

“That was an odd experience milord.”

“You do feel better, do you not?”

“Well, yes…I guess I am not used to the finer things in life. Maybe it is not for me.”

“Yes, it is for you, as is your due. Now, stand before me.”

I did as he requested. I could not help but shiver. Something told me that an event I would never forget was about to took place; I could not have been more right.

“Now, this new task I have for you will consume the rest of your life.” He noted that I trembled when he said that. “But the rewards for success are far greater than any save the goddesses have received. Of all the women in all creation, I feel that only you could accomplished it.” I could not help but blush. “But first, to see if you are ready. Now… disrobe.”


“You heard me. Do it. Trust me.”

I thought I was blushing before, but now all the crimson of my blood was flowing unto my skin. But, an order from my King was an order I must oblige, so I disrobed, with nothing but my scarlet tresses covering me.

“Quite promising,” Ambrose admitted, admiring my features. I noticed him appreciating my cantaloupe-like breasts. For some reason, I started to feel a trickle of fluid dripping from me. I knew it was neither water nor urine, but I had no idea what it could be.

“Milord, I feel so embarrassed.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You are the pinnacle of feminine fitness, a model to which all the women of the kingdom should aspire to.” He paused. “I see Maza and Dionna did a good job with her hair…in both locales.” I blushed more. “You are rather cute when you blush.”

“The ‘Maiden Conqueror’ shouldn’t be cute.”

“Yes she should…to her King at least. Now, place your fists and knees onto the mattress; I must…continue my examination.”

I did as requested. I suddenly realized that from behind my fleshy scabbard was exposed, and that was where King Ambrose was.

“Yes, very promising.” With his fingers he was starting to probe my fleshy scabbard…what sort of mission requiring the rest of my life could require such an examination. I could not help but jump when his finger began to enter me. “Yes, you are indeed a virgin…a maiden conqueror in fact as well as name.”

He continued his ministrations. He rubbed his finger around and around my fleshy scabbard. My embarrassment was beginning to turn into something else. I was not sure just what as yet, but it felt different. It was starting to feel…good? That was when a second finger found its way to the small equivalent of a man’s sword of the flesh that I, as a woman, had. He briefly removed his hand, and curiously licked both fingers, before returning his fingers to the now quite warm nether regions of my body.

“Eeeeek!” I could not help but squeal. King Ambrose was working me over quite nicely with his fingers. I lost all control of my legs, as they were jumping on their own volition. “Oh, goddesses, what are doing to me?”

In answer to me, he flipped me onto my back and spread my legs, with himself in between. “Only what you deserve.” I bent my head to discover something. King Ambrose’s own sword of the flesh was revealed, standing at attention. I was just beginning to consider whether I should fight the King, when any thoughts of such were forever gone when his sword of flesh pierced my maiden shield, forever rendering it as the symbol of his manhood entered my symbol of womanhood.

“GODDESS!!!” I have felt pain before, but not like this. It was different. It was indescribable. After a few minutes of his sword of flesh feeling itself in my scabbard he bent down, surprising me by laying his lips upon mine.

“Shh,” said the King lightly to my ear. But how could I be quiet when the one thing I swore would never happen has happened. My king’s fleshy sword has broken my maiden shield. I am no longer the maiden conqueror; I am now just a maiden conquered.

Then slowly another realization came to me…this was starting to feel really good. His manhood was filling me up nicely. Only later I realized the sounds I heard that were so familiar, the sounds of a female being penetrated that I was accustomed to hearing in my childhood, was being voiced by myself. I forgot all except the name of the man who was doing this… this wonderful thing to me.



With our mutual screaming of each other’s name, I felt a gush of something enter my sweet feminine scabbard. The feeling was a rush. We looked into each other’s eyes, and I saw nothing but contentment. Ambrose laid a pillow underneath my rear, which stopped the white fluids I saw from falling onto bed, but instead kept it within me. He kissed me, and then we mutually felled asleep.


“Wake up, my love. It is almost the time of the day’s zenith.”

I awakened. I saw that I was under the soft covers of King Ambrose bed, with the King beside me.

“Milord, why did you treat me so?”

“You seemed to enjoy myself.”

“But, King Ambrose…”

“For you, just ‘Ambrose’ will do.”

“Ambrose, why despoil me?”

“I did not despoil you. I gave you the attention a man gives a woman.”

“But, now I am no longer the ‘Maiden Conqueror’. You need a Maiden Conqueror, don’t you.”

“The enemy is defeated. I have no longer a need for a Maiden Conqueror.” He paused. “What I need is a Queen who can bare strong, healthy children. Such a Queen must also be rejoiced by the kingdom.” He took a hold of a ring of rubies and diamonds. “There is such a thing as romantic love. When I first heard of you I was fascinated. Please take this ring as consent to be my bride, the new Queen of Chrysanthemum.”

I was stunned, and knew of only one course of action. I took the ring and placed it on finger. Then I kissed him as I fondled his manly sword of flesh.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes. By the Goddesses, yes.” I bent down and took his manhood into my mouth, showing him the attention he so deserved. It was, in a way, sweet revenge, as he trembled the same way I trembled when he fingered me earlier. The tip of his flesh sword felt so good rubbed all within my mouth. I gently began to play with his fleshy rocks below. It was not long before he emitted more of that wonderful white fluid into my mouth.

“Wow!” Ambrose was speechless. “That was wonderful. However, we are now running behind time. Quick, don these white gowns. We must go to the courtyard; the bishop is awaiting, as are our subjects.”


“I had planned all along for us to be wed this day.”

We quickly dressed and went outside. The wedding ceremony was beautiful. Perhaps there is such things as romantic love, and the only thing I ever thought was a sillier idea…happy endings. For until the end of time, in this kingdom the day will be known as the day where romantic love is possible. But in the Kingdom of Chrysanthemum there is no holiday known as the Feast of Eros. The King and his kingdom simply named it…Valentina’s Day.

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