Koçek (NO FUTA, but hella BL, femboys, harem, history, dancing, and other stuff)

Story by Psyco121

Author's note

Yo! This is a little piece of historical fiction that I am attempting to write, my first story actually, and I want to make it as accurate as possible in regard to the setting, people, and events, so if you notice anything wrong, or have any ideas please let me know! ^.^

This story will probably have some graphic scenes, gore, nudity, war, enslavement, mistreatment of humans, rape, disease, BL, death, and much more. If any of these topics disturb you, consider not reading.

This is only part 1 of the prologue, and gives some background along with the very first part of the prequel. There shouldn't be much more than two more parts of the prequel before we get to the main story.

I know it is pretty short, but I am just starting out. I will get better at this (I hope *'.'*). If you want to, I am also okay with critique.

Also, not as much fun stuff starting out, but it will get there, I promise -.^

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Prologue Part 1

I was born in 1456 with the name Xander Arianiti in the Northern Highlands of Albania.

We had lived here ever since my family fled here after the Ottomans invaded our country. My grandfather was from a small noble family in the south, my grandmother from larger family in central Albania. The Sanjak (district, administrative area) had been established in the south around 40 years before I was born, and my grandfather's family, refusing to submit to the Ottomans, lost everything. Graciously, my grandmother's family accepted them in, and the families were merged into one.

Together they had my mother Elira Airaniti. Many years later, she would meet my father, Gezim.

My father had also been from a prominent family in the south, however, unlike my grandfather's, his family didn't resist. They saw the invasion as an opportunity to grow, and welcomed the Ottomans with open arms. They gave tribute to them moreso than the other families, and received favors and status in turn. At first they just gave gold (even though the Ottomans never asked for any), but as they sought greater status, they decided to give half of their children, much more than the 1/5th requirement from the devşirmeor draft program. These children were to receive training under the Janissary Corps and fight for the Ottomans in the hope that they would later be granted nobility to rule over great lands and many people.

By the time my father was born, his family had converted to Islam and had adopted the Turkish language. While the devşirme did not allow for Islamic families to send their children to become Janissary, they still sent children to serve under the military, receive training, and gain power. While not able to obtain as many benefits as the Janissary Corps, the differences shrank when one observed that all Janissary were eunuchs, while regular soldiers could have children. Thus they sent my father, the youngest of 10. to become a soldier for the Ottomans at the young age of 8.

He became a rifleman, and worked his way up in the military, until he was placed under a prominent captain, Skanderbeg at the age of 16, in the year 1440. Skanderbeg had also been taken from a noble Albanian family. However, in his case it was done with much more reluctance. Skanderbeg taught my father about what the Ottomans had done, and were doing in Albania. The injustices that had been had, and the forced conversion he had undergone from Christianity to Islam. My father listened and learned. Eventually he gained a disdain, nay a hatred for the Ottoman empire and his traitorous family. Skanderbeg began to treat my father with more familiarity, and even allowed him to use his previous name, Gjergj Kastrioti.

-Three Years Later, December 24th, 1443-

I had been pacing outside the captains tent for some time now, unsure of how to deliver the most recent report.

'There were quite a few losses on our side, but they seem to be retreating now.' Would that be okay? Should I address the town, or focus more on our own troops...

Lost in contemplation, the tent flaps opened in front of me, and pushed me to the ground.

"Gwaah!!"

A slim, tall, somewhat muscular figure in captian's garb appeared, and looked towards me. I looked back into his deep, kind, sad brown eyes. They were somewhat glazed over, and had red bags underneath. In addition thick black stubble covered his face contrasting his elegant pencil thin mustache, and was accompanied with a tangled mess of long wavy black hair.

https://em.wattpad.com/95107ad64033ed7ed752357a7cdcb81bfa1c6702/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f703268307a6457696f782d6a61673d3d2d3433373335303138362e3135303238343966393032353066366133353831353234383230352e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280

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