I stood in the city square begging and my sister P'linda squatted naked next to me playing with her quim. People ignored us until at last a handsome young soldier approached me.

"What is your name?" he asked, rather kindly I thought. He was younger than I, handsome as a prince. He wore sergeant's stripes and I knew he must be noble and wealthy for he could not be very old, not even my age.

"Ursula," I said.

"I was told over there that you have small new breasts," he cut right to the point. I nodded; they were fresh and constantly hurting as they grew. My sister P'linda was but seven years old and though our father had prepared us both it seems his preparations had worked more on me. I was eleven.

The soldier was well dressed and well formed and I hoped he would take me. "Good," he said. "I need to be hardened and ejaculated. Ursula, wouldst drop your dress down your shoulder so I can see the breast, and you little one down there, do your part for me." In our region, suckling was taught young, as young as possible, oft from infancy. Even boys learn it, it's a useful trade.

My sister knelt up obediently and unbuttoned his britches but the boy hardly paid her another notice as his eyes glittered at the sight of my right breast and nipple. He reached out and placed one hand on it, covering it. "And you," he told my sister, "Whatever you do, suck. Do not stop until I say so."

I was made to stand still as well. He took his pleasure silently, like a man. While keeping my eyes downcast as is fitting I nevertheless managed a furtive glance a time or two at his face. His eyes were blue and driven. His nostrils flared and as his crisis neared his lips trembled some and a faint flush suffused his cheeks. It pleased me that I gave him pleasure. It was a wicked thought though, and I suppressed it.

He held his head slightly cocked as if listening to something, his hand barely stirred on my nipple even though it grew harder and harder and I wanted him to squeeze me. The expression on his face was so strange. I later thought it was that of a man listening to the key scrape in an old door, hoping it will open.

My sister sucked him quietly, hardly a peep, and I never even saw his member. It was only the sudden pressure of his hand on my boob that told me, then his hand slipped away. P'linda cleaned him and packaged him together and the handsome boy gave me a coin and with a show of noblesse leant down to give her one too.

He turned and strode off and P'linda proudly showed me her small silver coin. She beamed. I opened my hand and saw that mine was gold!

"He hardly made a drop," she whispered to me, giggling. "I'm surprised he made any at all," I told her. He was so young. Normally boys his age have no interest in girls, and fewer yet make the seed.

We took our coins back to our mother who was boiling tea outside the wagon. She made P'linda wash her knees which were stained in mud and pig manure, and had her put on a thin dress.

After awhile I was sent off, alone, to the Inn. Food was hard enough to come by for mother to waste any on a girl with breasts, I was expected to earn my own. My holes and my bumps were how I was to feed. Sometimes it was depressing--a chicken wing and a gizzard for a 20 minute ride on the table. It depended on the man. A girl gets better at judging men, the hungrier she is. And with winter fast on, the competition among the girls grew intense.

The soldier boy who fucked P'linda's face was drinking with two comrades about his own age. In the Prince's army rank was distributed by birth and he bore sergeant stripes.

The younger soldiers were laughing and amusing themselves with the serving girls and village girls, feeling their bottoms and boobs, kissing them and in a few cases making them ride on their laps.

The older soldiers were grizzled lifers and they preferred boys and young men.

Funny, sometimes men were cruel. I say funny, because there was no need. We, not just our village, but the entire land were poor, desperate. We would do anything they wanted, for little coins, for a crust of bread, a joint of meat....

You knew when the soldiers were expected because shopkeepers cleaned up, painted, brought out their best wines and viands and smoked meats. The harness maker and the stable keeper strung up teenage boys by their hands and feet, shoving gags in their mouths and fat leather thongs up their bottoms, to show off how accommodating their orifices were. The harness maker, nasty bastard that he was, actually tore out one boy's teeth to make him able to suck larger penises. "Good for Generals!" he'd laughed. That is what I mean by unnecessary cruelty.

Or again, in the tavern, boys and girls were sometimes strapped in place over wine barrels or giant cheeses, the better to show off their breasts or the curve of their buttocks or the arousal of their cocks. In itself it wasn't painful--I myself went through this on occasion--but sometimes the men left one there for hours and hours, needlessly. We were all willing, nay desperate, to please the soldiers.....(cont)