Love and Sex in Syria Ch. 03

They call me Al-Asi but that is not my real name it, however, reflects who I am better than my real name. For me, the name is a testament that it's possible to defy the place you are born into. I'm not an educated girl, I can barely read and write, but I'm a poet and narrator, because I know how to tell a story. The name gives a clue to my origins; I'm from a village in Central Syria between Homs and Hama. I am the fourth of eight children, my family is poor, they work on farms, but I'm different, my life went in a different direction from my siblings. Al-Asi is the name of the river that runs through the area, but it has greater significances than that. Al-Asi means the disobedient one or the rebellious one, because the river flows from south to north unlike the other rivers in the region, hence why I'm called it. Like the river, I ran in the opposite direction of people in my village, also my poetry is largely free verse which pays no attention to classical standards of poetry.

But you're here because you want to hear about the house; the house of pleasure, the house of desire, the house of debauchery, (debauchery and sin are the same, you might want to omit this.the house of sin), the house of indulgences and the house of love. I worked at this house for five years, with its glory holes, BDSM dens, straight, bi, gay, les and transgender choices. This house gave a girl like me, the education I needed. It took my virginity but gave me life. It's an old house, which is full of legends and urban myths of betrayal, love, lust, conspiracy and scandal. This mansion located at the heart of Aleppo, supposedly dates back to 1780 and began life as a mini-harem for the local Ottoman officials, but was later expanded into an entertainment house for the local notables and well-to-dos'. It's not only sex that goes on here, but also, music, plays, poetry, drinking, drug taking and occasionally subversive political meetings. It's quite a bit like a burlesque house with actors, actresses, musicians and artists and it's stood at the center of life in Aleppo until this very day.

Like many such houses, our house had a headwoman, her name was Amal ,she was a beautiful single woman in her thirties. Her long blonde hair, fair skin and blue eyes, round butt, curves and large breasts but tight stomach made her quite a sight. She was tall to standing at 5'8", but in heels she would much taller. Amal was quite unlike me, she was very educated and cultured, she knew Classical Arabic, French, English, Greek, Turkish, Philosophy, the Sciences, Poetry, Literature, Music and was a talented public speaker. Her family background was as interesting as she was, her maternal grandmother's family were a mixture of Greek, Bosnian and Turks, but they settled in Aleppo in the 19th century. Her maternal grandfather's family were Circassian from southern Russia; her father's family were an old Aleppian trading family. The fraternal family included traders, regional governors, religious scholars and intellectuals. Her father was an Imam, but she had not spoken to him in years, and I have no idea how a respectable girl like her ended up here.

Second in command was her much younger, but also single, cousin Yasmeen, she couldn't have been older than 22 when I first met her. She was more petite with smaller breast and ass, but her green eyes, dirty blonde hair and fair skin made her a beauty in her own right. Yasmeen and I became good friends in my time at the house. We had many beautiful girls at the house from a diverse range of backgrounds. We had Kurds, Turkmin, Arabs, Druze, Christians, Alawites, Sunnis, Ismalis and also non-Syrian women too including Iraqis, Palestinians, Lebanese, Tunisians, Moroccans and Algerians. But they were the cheaper options, but this leads us to me and how I ended up here.

I was 18 years old and I worked in the farmlands with my family, however the work was drying up and I was considering going elsewhere. I was always considered beautiful by others, but I never thought I was beautiful, and I was always terrified of men. I don't know where this phobia came from but it existed, I was always nervous around them. But many tried to pursue me, I never understood why? I had light olive skin, green eyes and normal lengthen hair, not that unlike other village girls, but for some reason, I was the one they pursued. One day, I discovered that my family had agreed to marry me of to my cousin, Hassan, which I did not like. I didn't want to marry and especially not to Hassan, the thought of him physically repulsed me with his bad teeth and uni-brow. I pleaded with my parents not to make me go through with it, but they wouldn't have it, I was to marry him, end of discussion. I really couldn't face it, so on my wedding day I ran away from the village and I headed to Aleppo. Because I didn't know anyone in the bustling ancient city I had to sleep where I could manage. Everything changed one day.

I was sleeping in a women's refuge but was awoken when this pretty girl approached me. She had brown skin and black hair, but was very pretty and had an enormous smile on her face. I was lying in bed but suddenly got up and looked at her, she was carrying a bowl of soup and she came and sat down next to me on the bed. She introduced herself as Christine and in the course of the conversation I learnt she was a Christian from the southern Syrian town of Maloula, she, like me had fled home. We were half way through our conversation when she told me about the house.

Christine looked at me and said"Listen, living off the streets here is not a good idea. The streets are cruel and a delicate flower like you cannot survive them. But there is a place you can stay and I can get you a good job."

My eyes widen upon hearing this and I ask "What job? What are you talking about?"

"There is this house, it has many names, but that's not important. We are a refuge for artistic women, we sing, dance and perform and we entertain. Yes we are a house where Aleppo indulges in its desires and pleasure, but the clientele are not a bunch of riff raff's, they are respectable and the best of society. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do and your allowed time to decide what you like doing. I heard your quite good at poetry and storytelling, we could use entertainers like you and I am sure you would fit in. But I will not lie to you; people have sex and earn money from sex in this house. Most girls are working girls, but not all of them; you don't have to engage in any sexual activity if you don't want to." I was astonished at what Christine was telling me, but I agreed to go with her to see the house and whether or not I wanted to work there. It was a great offer in a sense; it would get me off the streets, but I couldn't entirely grasp what I could do there and I didn't think I could have sex. We arrived at the house, which was at the intersection of two major traditional Souks, from the outside the building didn't look like much and I couldn't tell how big it was from the outside. There were two big men at the door, and upon seeing me and Christine arriving they opened it for us. Once, I had entered the inside, my impression of the house had changed completely, it was massive on the inside. It had a large courtyard with a fountain in the middle and what looked like hundreds of different rooms. But I had no time to stop and stare, Christine ushered me through and we went straight to Amal's office. Outside the office we were greeted by Yasmeen, who kissed Christine on the cheeks and shook my hand and waved us through. Amal was seated at her desk and appeared to be reading letters; she had her reading glasses on and barely noticed that we had walked in. Christine coughed and then Amal looked up and then took off her glasses and began to examine me by looking me up and down.

"Well, what do we have here?" she said.

"This was the girl I was telling you about, the one in the refuge. She goes by the name Al-Asi."

"Al-Asi? Oh, are you Homsi or Hama girl?"

"Neither." I responded. "I am from a village between the two cities."

"I see. Yes you'r every pretty, but you will need to change your clothes and apply some make-up, if you want to work here. What do you do? Do you have any special talents? What job would you like to do?"

I began to feel nervous, as it dawned on me where I was and what she meant by her questions. Still I responded "Thank you, Miss Amal. I don't know why I am here or what job I could do? I can tell stories, I am really good at that and my poetry is excellent."

"Does your family know where you are? Are you single? And are they going to give me any problems?"

I hesitated a little bit but then responded "No, I ran away from home, my family don't know where I am. I ran away because they tried to marry me off and I didn't want to. And yes, I'm single."

"How old are you? You look young?"

"I am 18 years old and four months."

Amal then fixed a stare at me and then asked "Are you a virgin?"

"Yes, I am. I'm a very pure and untouched girl."

Amal raises one of her eye brows and looks at me inquisitively "Really? You're a virgin, really? You're not lying to me are you?" She then gets up and moves towards me and begins encircling me.

"Yes Miss, I'm telling the truth, I'm innocent."

"I'll be the judge of that. You know I've seen many girls in my time and I know what to look for."

She moved around me and by that point I was almost shaking, I had sweat running down my forehead and there was so much tension in the room, that it would take a knife to cut it. She then stops in front of me and smiles and reaches out to me. Her hands began to stroke my hair and face, but I was so confused and nervous that my only response is a forced smile. Her thumb rubbed my lips and she then placed her fingers below my chin and tilts my head upwards. She then moved my head sideways and appeared to be inspecting my face. She then stopped and withdrew her hand from my head and then grabbed my hand and pulled it upward, she then placed two fingers on my pulse, I don't know what she was looking for.

"Good! Now just relax, I'm not gonna hurt you. But I need to know what kind of girl you are and so I'm going to run a little test."

I had no idea what she was talking about, but before I could respond, her eyes looked down at me and she then reached out and began to unzip my jeans. She pulled them down and stuck two fingers down my panties. I was frozen with shock and could barely move and all of a sudden, I could feel two fingers gentle rubbing my outer lips. Amal looked me in the eye and smiled.

"What does this make you think, I wonder?" she says to me in a teasing tone.

I still couldn't believe what was happening, and her fingers were now fully teasing me and she began to insert. Her fingers went in and out, a few times, and I was overcome with a feeling I'd never felt before. But Amal abruptly stopped.

"Okay, I believe you're a virgin. And I'm happy to have you here, Christine will help you settle in and show you to your living quarters. We can later work out what role you can fulfil here."

Amal then kissed me on the lips, but only very briefly, and then told Christine to lead me out. I couldn't understand what had happened there or decide whether it was a good thing or not.

"Don't worry, the first time is always a shock," Christine said" you'll get used to it I'm sure. Before we head to your room do you want to see something truly amazing?"

I nod hesitantly and as Christine lead me down a corridor, Miss Amal, suddenly caught up to us and walked alongside us. I had no idea what is going on, but I continue walking and we soon arrive at what looks like the men's lavatory, but it has red marks across the door. We stop in front of the door and Amal instructored Christine to tell me what is happening.

"Have you ever heard of glory holes? We are one of the few places in Syria that has them. They are basically toilets with holes in the wall between cubical. Now they are not real toilets, but we had them designed like toilets, which is one of the many fantasy rooms we have here. The hole is located in a certain position and men are able to stick their cocks through the wall- but they can't see what is happening to their cocks and who is doing stuff to their cock. The person at the other end of the hole cannot see whose cock they are playing with either, it's like an anonymous blow job service we offer. The toilet with red markings is for heterosexuals, there's another one with green markings which is for bisexuals. The bisexual one is where a man sticks his manhood through and doesn't know if it's a guy or girl sucking. Pink markings are for gays. Today, we are going to show you how it works, so Amal and I are going to share a cock together, and you can watch us in action." "Today, we have a Japanese tourist and as he is a guest in our country, we'd thought we would treat him. All foreigners are welcome in Syria." Said Amal.

"Plus Amal was curious to know what a Japanese cock tasted like. I understand he is ready, let's go in and not keep him waiting." Was Christine's responses.

At this stage, I was willing to believe anything, but I could not compute what I was being told and so I just walked in and felt glad that I didn't have to do anything. Amal and Christine walked in and I followed into what looked like an elegant toilet. It was very white, but I couldn't stand around admiring the toilet for long. Both Christine and Amal entered the cubical and Amal bashed her fist against the wall. And like a machine a cock came through, what looked like a cat-flap, but it was too high up to be a cat flap. Needless to say it was a big Japanese cock, I'd never seen a cock before and I gasped and could not believe what I was seeing. This felt wrong and yet I couldn't walk away or bring myself to look away. It was a mesmerising experience and my mouth was wide open.

"Okay, Christine you get him warmed up. Yalla, suck this Japanese guy off, I will get involved when it's time." Amal said.

Christine did not hesitate, she got on her knees and pushes back his foreskin and begins sucking. Amal helped Christine by pulling her hair back and encouraging her verbally. The smell in the air was not like anything I'd smelt before, but it was one I would come to know well, the smell of sex. Christine was really going for it, she was sucking it hard and fast and she was not pausing to take breathes. All I could hear was loud sucking sounds and the sounds of a Japanese man groaning. Amal eventually pushed Christine out of the way and she began sucking him off too.

Amal was an animal she had a clear passion for sucking cock, and she seemed to have a clear process for sucking. I later discovered that there was an art to sucking cock and Amal was a professional, she understood that giving blow jobs was a performance, no different from acting, and it was this ethos that marked the philosophy of the house and distinguishes it from brothels and prostitutions. Customers satisfaction was top priority at this house and despite the sexual nature of our work, it was clear that this was not a sleazy thing, but a thing of beauty and art. Amal was the chief artists, she pushed back the foreskin and gently teased it with her finger, before spiting on it and rubbing the spit in. She then gently licked the cock from top to bottom, and when she had completed this process 10 or 15 times, she now inserted the cock into her mouth. The Japanese guy was shouting and screaming with pleasure and Amal was sucking hard.

"Mmmmm...You like that, ha?"

"Ooooohhh...Ahhhhh. Fuck yes!"

Amal now swallowed the whole cock and pushed it as far down her throat as it would go, and you could see a huge lump, almost like an Adam's apple, forming in Amal's throat. The Japanese guy now began humping, I couldn't believe it, Amal was being throat fucked. I did not know what to feel, but I felt, shocked and weirdly, that I like the look of it. But I was too coy to admit it. By this point, I could now smell something else, something that hadn't been their moments earlier. Suddenly, Amal pulled back and there was white liquid around her mouth and on the tip of the penis. Before I could process what I was seeing, Amal, got of her knees and walked up to me and we came face to face with one another. She then opened her mouth wide and I could see white liquid inside her mouth and dripping out of it. I could smell cum on her breathe. She then closed her mouth and swallowed and then turned to Christine and said.

"Christine, finish him off! Yalla."

Christine got on her knees for a second time and began lick the cum of the tip of his penis and began sucking him a second time. Amal walked over to her again and brushed back Christine's hair.

"Yalla, Christine suck that cock. Good girl, ahhhh, good girl. Christine is such a sexy girl. Ya Christine, you look good with a cock in your mouth, it suites the shape of your mouth. Ya Assi, don't you think Christine looks good with a cock in her mouth?"

I just nodded and continued to watch, five minutes later, and it was all over. Amal left the room and Christine told me to wait outside while she cleaned herself off. Her face was covered in hot white cum, I went outside and waited, ten minutes later she re-appeared and asked me to follow her. It was amazing, Christine, was making small talk with me and telling me about the house, as if what happened, didn't happen. We soon arrived at my room, Christine told me to go inside and meet my two roommates and then have a rest. She would be back for me later. I enter the room and I automatically claim my bed and I jump onto it.

I spent the rest of the day relaxing and getting to know my two roommates, Diana and Shireen, both sweet girl, who like me came from rural backgrounds. Diana was beautiful, busty, curvy, round ass, but with tight stomach with fair skin and dark eyes and hair. She was Kurdish and from Ras-Al-Ayn and her speciality includeed bondage and discipline. And Shireen, who was meeker and more quietly spoken, had a petite figure with light brown skin. Shireen was Alawite and from the coast and she specialised in threesomes and servicing female cliental. But the relaxing conversation turned to how they lost their virginity and what sex is like. Diana took the lead.

" Listen, in Ras-al-Ayn, premarital sex does not exist and no good Kurdish girl or even Arab, Armenian, Chechens or Syriac girl in our town would ever admit to it. We are a small town, 55, 00 people, if a girl did lose her virginity before marriage within minutes the entire town knows about it. And your entire clan and probably the entire Al-Hasakah Governorate know about it as well, I am a marked girl. You have to understand, we Kurds are very proud people, we are the people of the mountains. My grandfather fought the Turks, which means my family's reputation is high, what I am trying to tell you is that the story of me losing my virginity is more painful than most. But I do wish to share it with you as you are a sweet girl who has to make a choice. In losing my virginity, I gained independence but lost my family, especially because my ex-boyfriend was Armenian. His name was Aman, I called him Aman the Armenian, he was older than me but very slim. He had light skin and dark eyes.

We met outside my school, he would wait outside the gates with his friends and I thought he was the cutest guy, I'd ever seen. I was 16 when we first met and we'd hang around after school and he would always tell me how pretty I was. He would buy me candy and we would sit in shaded areas in parks and talk. By the time I was 18, he began touching me, but at the time I didn't understand what he was doing. Nobody talks about sex in our family and community, he would re-assure me it was fun and there was nothing wrong with it. He started telling me, that he loved me and he wanted to marry me and how beautiful I was. He told me couples in Europe, regularly touch each other, and that I was a modern girl like those in Europe. He started of gentle, he would rub my knee caps and my inner leg but it was above my jeans. He would work on me some more and a few weeks after he began stroking my leg, I let him rub my breasts above my shirt and then I let him put his hands underneath my shirt. After a while he told me that in Europe, women suck men's cock and then men cum on women's faces, he then said I was modern and brave and should try it. I resist at first, but he became very angry and told me if I didn't do it, he would leave me, and what was I to do? I thought I was in love.