Love and Sex in Syria Ch. 04

Painting my nails, I like painting my nails, there is really nothing more relaxing than having some me time. Me time is a luxury, that I can't often afford, especially now days, there is always so much to do and not enough time to do it. I like to think of myself as an independent female, who is capable of fending for myself and who will risk everything to protect my family. My family do not understand why I do, what I do, and they do not appreciate that I have to do it for their protection. But I also do it for her, they took her away from me, and without her I have no sense of purpose. I stand up and head towards the window, the glass in the window is no more, but the frame still exists. I get into position and I look through the crosshair, I see the target, he has a beard, they always have beards but no moustaches. Most have long black beards, but some have red beards, blonde beards, grey beards and some have dyed beards. They speak in many tongues, mostly foreign, but never Kurdish. They have many names Takfirs (Extremists), rebels, butchers and many more, but as far as I am concerned they are foreigners who have come to harm my people.

This beardo will be my thirty-second hit and I do feel uneasy about it, but not the same uneasiness, I use to feel when I started this work. Through the crosshair you can see the details of people's faces and their clothes and I use to wonder who they were? My first hit, I could see into his eyes, he looked nothing like I'd imagined he would. He looked so ordinary, not an evil two-headed monster you think of when you think of these people. I could see his smile on his face, I could see his wedding ring and I could see he had no idea what I was about to do to him. I had nightmares for weeks afterwards, I kept seeing him in my dreams and my guilt never went away. I would wake-up in the middle of the night in cold sweats about it. But now, I don't feel this, love and joy had gone from my heart and cold revenge has replaced it. They took my lover; I had never known true happiness until I met her, my beloved Diana. I'd always thought, I was weird and my desires were unnatural until I met her. Kurdish society, despite the rhetoric from political groups about gender equality, does not tolerant lesbianism and it certainly does not tolerant pre-marital sex, we probably have a higher rate of honor killing than the Arabs. This hit is for Diana and the uneasiness I feel, is not a moralistic or guilt thing, is the idea that within my hands I have the power of life and death. That's too much power for one person, there is something unnatural about it and this doubt doesn't go away, regardless of how you try to justify it. I am 21 years old, but, I know I will not survive this, maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday I will take a hit. The smell of blood carries far and no matter what I do the smell will follow me.

My story begins in my village, which is located between Aleppo and Idlib, it's not especially famous but we are near abandoned ancient towns and cities called The Dead Cities of Syria. The rich archaeological heritage of the area means we sometimes saw foreigners passing through, but not very often. Our region is green, mountainous and full of lakes and fresh water rivers, my village was mostly farm land and my family worked these farms. The rural nature of my village meant that growing up; I mixed with males and worked alongside them. The women mostly dressed in colorful outfits, but no one ever wore the traditional Muslim headscarf or the veil, such dress would have been and still is, unusual. Women in my village are generally very petite, thus I stand out, because while many of them are relatively flat, I've always been curvy. My butt is very round and my chest size is well formed and could be described as large, but I have slim stomach and my legs are a few inches bigger than most of the petite girls in my village. My hair is long and black and pupils are dark, but my skin is fair. I use to love wearing make-up and me and my friends would often have fun applying make-up. My grandmother would frown at this, her generation never really wore make-up, and it was my mother's generation that started wearing make-up.

But unlike my mother's generation, I got to go to school. My school was located in a medium size town a few kilometres away from my village. The whole village went to the same school. We would attend school until our mid-teens and then we would go out and work, that was the idea of our school. The school was an agricultural school and it focused on teaching us about farming. We did do other subjects like Islamic studies, Science, Mathematics, History, Literature and Philosophy. My schooling was done in Arabic and not Kurdish, which upset my grandmother because she thought I would forget my roots. We had to wear school uniforms, but these uniforms are not like the ones that I've seen on TV in other countries. Ours were more lifeless looking, militaristic, baggy and generally very depressing to wear. Every morning, we would have to assemble in the schoolyard, and stand to attention like soldiers do while the Syrian flag was being raised and the national anthem was played. We would then have to pledge our allegiance to God, Socialism, the Nation, The Ba'ath party and to the president. Our school was full of pictures of the president and posters with the party's slogans.

School was not the best time in my life, but it was where I discovered my feelings for other women. There was this one girl, Dina, who was the most beautiful girls I'd ever seen, we became friends quickly. At first, I was in denial about my feelings, but eventually and rather begrudgingly, I came to accept that I was in love with her. I couldn't understand how I could be in love with women, in all my classes; we spoke only of union between man and woman. We didn't get sex education per say, but we did learn about reproduction in biology class, and this class never mentioned lesbians. The trouble was Dina did not feel the same way about me and I was too cowardly to admit my true feeling for her. I mostly retreated into myself and while Dina grew into a beautiful young woman, I, for the most part, chose to downplay my femininity, with minimal make-up and I fell into a sports crowd. Dina was head girl at school, she helped the teachers supervise other students, she also read poetry at national school competitions and was invited to join the prestigious student and young person's Ba'ath party association, only the brightest and best were invited to join.

But despite how awful my school days were, I did very well on my end of schools exam and I was encouraged to apply to college. My family were reluctant, but in the end agreed, I would go to the University of Aleppo to study engineering. But I would have to commute from the village to Aleppo every day, a journey which would take two hours, to and from Aleppo. When I first arrived in Aleppo, I was shocked, scared and confused, I'd never been to a major city before and I didn't know anyone in the city. I found it hard to make friends; most of the other students would make fun of my clothes and rural accent. A month into my studies and I already wanted to leave, but it was then, that I met Diana. She was a couple of inches taller than me, but with similar features to me and she was very fashionably dressed. She approached me, while I was in the cafeteria eating lunch and she came and sat down next to me.

Diana: "Hiya, I noticed you were sitting here alone. I'm Diana. Are you new here? I've not seen you around before?"

I responded "Yes, I am new here. My name is Noor, I'm studying engineering. How about you?"

Diana: "Nice to meet you Noor. Engineering, wof, tough subject, you must be very cleaver. I'm studying English literature, its fine; I'm mostly studying it to learn English. I take it from your accent and clothes that you're not from around here?"

I was so excited, I'm looking at the most incredible creature and she is talking to me. "Yes I'm from Yacob village, it's about two hours from here. Where are you from?"

Diana: "Oh, so your Kurdish, me too, I'm from Qamishli."

And from that moment I was infatuated by Diana, I kept watching her pink lips move and I knew I wanted to kiss them. I kept imagining how sweet they must taste and how trying them would quench any hunger I may feel. I looked closely at her battering eye lids and her ears, and I imagine making her blush by whispering sweet nothings into her ears. Oh and that hair, how I would love to stroke her hair back until it was behind her ear. And then I would gently nibble on the ear lobe and kiss her neck. My imagination went into a riot during the first encounter and I had trouble answering some of her questions because I couldn't stop fantasizing about her. I mumbled and rushed to get the words out and she had the grace to laugh and smile. Angelic, that was the word that came to my mind at the time. We agreed to hang out and when we departed way, I felt my heart skip a beat and I needed to rush home and lock myself away.

When I got home that evening, I barricaded myself away in my room, and I lay on the bed and kept thinking of her. I tried to masturbate, by sticking two fingers down my pants and rubbing my pussy, but every time I would try and think of her in an arousing way, I had to stop. She was so angelically beautiful with her cute smile and playful but innocent nature, that masturbating over her felt like I was mentally defiling her beauty and that felt wrong. I imagined what would happen if she walked in and caught me masturbating over her, how disgusted she would be. I ended up praying that my eyes be scratched out rather than her finding out how I secretly defiled her. Later that evening, while I was asleep, I had a dream about her flying through my window and lowering herself on top of me. It was then that I suddenly woke up, because I had an orgasm and I felt the need to touch myself.

The next few weeks, I would hang out with Diana and every time we were together, my heart would beat faster and faster. And the more I learned about her the more interested I became in her. Her family were urbanites and wealthier than mine, but despite this, we found that we had many things in common. But I would also get jealous when I would see her talking to guys and I needed to find a way to claim her. It was then, I decided, I needed to attract her and so I began going shopping for fashionable clothes and newer make-up. My clothes were getting tighter and tighter and the attention I got from guys increased. They would wolf whistle and sweet talk me, but I just ignored them and walked passed. Diana noticed the change in my wardrobe and would often been full of complements. We started going to the mall together and we would spend hours trying on new clothes. One day, Diana invited me to her house and I went up to her bedroom and we spent hours talking about films, music and boys, but then the conversation turned serious.

Diana: "Noor, I've noticed something about you, something, I hope you don't mind me pointing out?"

I was a little bit nervous but tried to remain calm "Oh yeah, and what's that?"

Diana: "Well, we have known each other for three months now, and you've heard me talk about this guy and that guy, but you never seem to be into the discussion."

My pulse was beginning to take off "Oh really, I hadn't noticed."

Diana: "Yes and on top of this you never seem to talk about guys and you don't seem to like any. Also you get nervous and sweat around me, why do you do that?"

A lump developed in my throat and I couldn't respond and instead came out with half formed nonsensical sentences.

Diana stares at me "Is there something wrong with me?"

"No, your fine, there is nothing wrong with you." My mind is racing and I went into a panic, I kept thinking 'Oh sweet Diana, how could you think there is anything wrong with you, my love. Do you not know, how my body yearns for you, how my flesh yours for your flesh.'

Diana: "Then what is it?"

I look blackly at her and I don't know how, but the realization of what I desired of her, hit her and she smiled. I didn't know what else to do and so I just smiled back. She leaned forward and stretched out her hand and placed it on my pulse and could feel it racing.

Diana: "I understand now. I know how it must feel, not to be able to be with the one you love. I know what a life without freedom is, but I also know there is nothing wrong with your feelings for me. Trust me, between two women there are no unwanted pregnancies, no real sexual diseases and no one gets hurt. I wouldn't deny you what you so desire."

I was confused, but before I could respond, she undid some button on her top and then reached out for my hand and then placed my hand on her right breast.

Diana: "Its' okay, have a feel."

I had never felt another woman's breast before and I had to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming. I could feel her smooth round nipple and all I could think to do was to gently tease and stroke it. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, as if she were enjoying it; I rubbed her faster and faster. It felt so nice and I had never been so excited in all my life, finally, some color is my otherwise grey life. At this moment, I was re-born and I was no longer ashamed of who I was. I rubbed her breast for 15 minutes and then we had to stop, it was time for me to get home, but Diana promised me that what happened would remain between us. She also invited me to a party, which I accepted without hesitation. On the journey back home, I couldn't but help but feel that I was now in a relationship and it felt great. But after that day things began to change and events took a downward spiral and far from entering into a relationship, a distance was developing between me and Diana. She would cancel on me and for the next few weeks, I hardly saw her. I was going to pieces, she wouldn't pick up my phone calls and I couldn't understand what I had done, I was sure she liked me touching her. Then one day, while I was at lunch with friends, I heard she had gotten engaged to Mr Miro who was a young aspiring professor. I burnt with range and wanted to kill myself. But as I was lost in my own world of private rage- events in my country took a downward turn- in Daraa, southern Syria protests and killing were happening. I noticed a change in the atmosphere, people were visibly nervous and I noticed big men in black t-shirts standing around campus and in the markets. I'd never seen them before and they looked monstrous, they were overly muscular and their tree-trunk arms had tattoos of the president- they also had beards and baseball caps. They carried M16's and other guns. I had never been so frightened than I was at that point.

Our country plundered into crisis and a few months later I ran into Diana. She approached me and acted like nothing had happened. I resisted and demanded to know the truth, Diana sighed and said it was true. She was now married but still had feelings for me. We had a long argument and she managed to convince me that she had no choice. But then she turned to me and changed the topic.

Diana: "Listen Noor, I have always believed you are a strong girl. A fighter, someone who will do what is right and expected of you. You're not like the rest of the girls, you are destined for better things than farm life. You are a role model for other girls- but your rights are about to be trampled on. Events force us to make a choice. These Arabs are not interested in protecting our rights- they want to make a Arab-Islamic state- don't let their talk of one free Syria fool you. The regime is not good, but it's better than what will come after, our people cannot survive with what comes after. We need you, our people needs you, join us?"

I am very confused by this point "Join who? What are you talking about?"

Diana: "Relax we are not with the government. Our Kurdish comrades, who have resisted Turkish domination, The Kurdish Workers Party (PKK) have started up a Syrian branch. We have a female unit called YPG, made up of fearless Kurdish women like you, we want you to join. I should also point there are other sexually open-minded girls in the unit too- so you'd be with your own kind."

I was flabbergasted at what I was hearing and I had to ask her to repeat herself. While I was trying to process what had been said, she moved in and closed her eyes. I suddenly felt her lips brush my lips and she placed her hands behind my head. She pushed my head forward and further onto her lips. I could taste her sweet tasting lipstick. She then pulled herself off me and said "And I would be your commander."

What else does a girl need to hear? Defending your people, an adventure and pussy, it was perfect. I left from training camps the next day, I was placed in an all female regiment. Although I couldn't understand how we could of gotten these facilities so close to the city and no one tried to stop us. I suspected a close relationship between the government and our group, but never said so openly. Training with a group of sweaty girls was fun and there were many lookers. I would often smell sweat as we did sit-ups and I would imagine the smell of sweaty cunts, which would arouse me greatly. Diana donned military overalls and would drill us. She was a cruel commander- but to my delight- the girls would relax in the evening by getting each other off.

We would gather in groups of three or four and one girl would be picked. In my first week, I was picked and I stood still while a line formed around me. Two girls stood in-front of me and one behind, the girls in front would lick and suck their fingers and then pull down my pants and slide their wet hands down my underwear and rub. They would gently work on the outer lips and the feeling of their soft hands brushing my pussy was sensational. My lips are very sensitive and they would slowly work on me, which only got me really aroused, although I wasn't prepared for what the girl behind me would do. She stuck her finger up my asshole and shout at me. They kept calling me a 'good girl' and they would then become more aggressive with me. We did this a number of times.

But the best time was after we finished an exercise. Diana decided to reward me for doing so well and she commanded the entire regiment to line up and fuck me. It was a mass orgy of horny Kurdish female fighters. The girls pinned me down and began licking me- I was still wearing overalls- and they pretty much ripped my clothes off with their teeth. I lost count of how many pussies and assholes I licked- but everyone in the regiment had tasted my pussy. One girl went to fetch a massive cucumber from the kitchen, she then inserted the cucumber into my pussy, that was my first experience of penetration and it was with a cucumber. We later ate the cucumber, it was served with dinner. Despite ordering all the girls to screw me, Diana, stood and watched but never participated. She had a smirk on her face and kept asking how I liked it. By the end I had so much cum on my body, I wasn't sure what to do with it.

When we weren't fucking we were fighting. We stopped fellow Kurds from joining the demonstrations and when rebel forces entered we fought back. One day before Diana was killed we finally did it. I will never forget the experience. It was after a tense day of fighting and I had returned to camp. Diana invited me into her office and I went and sat down on the chair facing her desk. She smiled and began talking.

Diana: "You're doing very well, you're our best fighter and should I pass I want you to take command of the regiment. It hard to believe how we met and now look where we are. Seems like only yesterday you were a sweet rural girl. Now you're a fighting lesbian."

I blushed and thanked her. She then stood up and began to encircle me- round and round, my chair- she went.