A Mother’s Love
I’ll admit it. Motherhood hasn’t been easy for me. I’m not maternal. If it was up to me I’d never have kept this mewling little fucker. Time was I could afford to dislodge the things with a quart of gin and a dig in my cunny with a kabob skewer. When I was young they’d pay me just to see me piss. But looks don’t last in this game, they fade. Slowly at first but more with each day that passes. You can paint over the cracks in your face but once your bubs go saggy you’ve got to find another trick. Men disgust me.
G’Thun told me they’d pay extra to stick it a bun filled oven and even more to suck the milk from me like I was a heifer cow. When G’Thun spoke I listened, I’d seen what happened to the girls who didn’t. So there it was, instead of a minor inconvenience pregnancy became my trade. Every eight or nine months I’d shit out a little brat into a sack drop a few rocks in and throw the lot into the nearest river. Twelve years that did me. It didn’t pay as much as I got when I was a youngster but better than most of the girls my age. Enough to keep G’Thun easy. After the first deliverance they get easier. By the end I could sneeze and they’d drop from me with a gush and a splat. One pig gave me a huge tip when he thought it was his “massive” rod that dislodged one.
This one though, little fucker decided to come out backwards. Nearly tore me in half. The nuns found me, half bled to death, dumped behind their mission. That little fucker clung to life though. Sometimes I think just to spite me. Sometimes I think the gods were paying me back for sending them so many other babes. The nuns tried to get me to hold it. Let it feed off of me like pigs did. But that little fuck wasn’t paying. My milk was worth money and that cunny ripping little fuck had cost me enough already. I had to get out of this place and earning again as soon as possible. G’Thun didn’t like us having time off. When he didn’t like something people ended up bloody. But he was good to me, only ever cut me once. The rest of the time I only got punched or kicked. Some pigs pay more if I’m bruised but I don’t like being hit. It’s not worth it.
It was three months before I could leave the nuns. The little fuck had torn my insides to shreds. I couldn’t get out fast enough. I promised the nuns that I’d look after the little fucker that nearly killed me. Even though I still couldn’t bear it sucking on my teats, they let me take it home. G’Thun welcomed me back into his fold. He cut me a bit, but I owed him three months money. I’ve seen him go harder on girls who owed him less. He must have a real soft spot for me. For a few months the kid lived in my room. The other girls saw it was fed. As long as it was quiet when I was working I could just about tolerate it. It was always quiet. When it started climbing out of its crate I had to put a lid on it. As it got bigger I just put heavier and heavier things on top. After a while it stopped trying to get out, it just looked out of the holes in the crate.
Without the buns in my oven, work was hard. I ended up seeing the guys the other girls refused to see. Ugly, poor, foul smelling, crippled or just too violent for the younger girls to cope with. I’d send them all away smiling. The other girls kept on feeding the shit in the crate.
And now I’m here, looking into its eyes. It’s a boy and his eyes are so brown. Not like the dull muddy brown mine are. They’re a deep rich chestnut and so shiny.
“Come here little fella”
This is the first time I’ve spoken to him. Lying here I just want to take him up into my arms and hold him. Why is it now that my maternal instinct has decided to start? I pat the floor and make some cooing noises.
“Come here son”
How is it that I’ve never gotten around to naming him? I once thought about calling him G’Thun. But after this I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think his soft spot for me has lasted. G’Thun came when he heard me scream; He’d sent me a pig that I’d never seen before. Tall, with thick black hair all over his body. He stank like garlic and old sweat. He stripped naked except for his iron gauntlets. I tried to talk to him but he looked through me like I wasn’t there. He just lay on the bed, cock standing to attention. I went to kiss it, but he pulled me up by my hair until I could feel it pushing at my cunny. I sat down slowly on it, feeling it inch inside me and then I started rocking back and forth. I started rocking faster, sliding up and down on him, moaning with “pleasure”. I arched my back pushing my bubs out, and closed my eyes rocking faster and faster as his breaths started to get heavy. As I opened my eyes he punched me in the teeth, with a fucking gauntlet. I jumped off his cock and screamed for help, blood gushing from my mouth. G’Thun slammed open the door open and I ran to him for help. His fist flew up at me. I could feel my ribs crack as his fist hit the bone between my bubs. He’s a splitter for fuck’s sake. I crashed to the ground gasping for breath.
The pig with the gauntlet growled at G’Thun “You said she’d be quiet you Cock-sucking Splitter.”
“She will be now” He grunted in his guttural monotone.
The door shut behind him.
My lungs burned as I tried to scream. All that came out was a hoarse whisper. Tears blurred my vision as I looked up to see the gauntleted pig leaning down to grab a handful of my hair. He dragged me up ‘til I was face to face with his hard cock. He punched me until my jaw slacked and then shoved himself down my throat until I choked. At the edges of my vision the world started to turn grey . My survival instincts shook me alert, desperate for air I bit down as hard as I could. My teeth clenched and I felt his pride pop in my mouth with a gush of blood. With a wrench of my hair he pulled me off of him, but too late. He roared with rage as I spat it at his feet like a dead worm. Blood pumped from his groin, spraying me head to toe in a crimson shower. Then from the table he grabbed his belt and unsheathed his dagger. I laughed at the irony; he’d never unsheathe his other dagger again.
I fell backwards against the wall and reached out for something to protect myself. Scrabbling around I found the heavy iron lamp that kept the boy’s crate shut. As the pig stepped towards me I lashed out with the lamp, there was a crunch as the base hit him in the temple. The light in his eyes flickered out and he fell forwards onto me. As if just to spite me his arm twitched and the dagger glanced the side of my neck. He fell in a clumsy heap, knocking over the crate. The boy inside giggling as he tipped out onto the floor.
I put my hand to my neck and felt the blood pulsing out between my fingers.
My Son’s eyes locked with mine. How old was he now? Two?
“Come on little fella, come give your mummy a hug”
Slowly he crawled towards me, slipping in the blood as it pooled beneath me but he still comes to me, brown eyes full of forgiveness. I let my neck go and hold him in my arms for the first time. The thick red gouts coating him as he sinks into my arms. He puts his arms around me and as I squeeze him tight, I feel for the first time what it is for a mother to love her child and as the world starts to turn grey all I can think is,
“He has such a beautiful smile”.