Red Sunset --- Chapter 6: A Mad Ship

The Russ is finally steaming her way on the tranquil Irtysh River; but at nightfall, things get steamier while the Russ lays at anchor.

Grey early dawn, on the wharf where the Russ steamer is moored. Four Lithuanian soldiers are on sentry duty while the ship's third mate is on watch...

"Funny to be wearing this white knight on my shoulder. My folks don't want to see me ever again because I joined the Red Army," said the first soldier, sitting on a bollard as he rolled himself a cigarette. "My little sister... I miss her so much! She's like the sun in my life, but I want to make a better world for her and all of us."

"Same for me, Benas" replied a nearby soldier as he patted Benas's shoulder like a brother. "All my brothers are fighting for the Kingdom of Lithuania with German volunteers. They can't win! But this much is sure—I won't like being sent back over there to fight against my own flesh and blood."

"Yes, Linas, I hear you, but you're a brave man and we're on the right side. Death to imperialism!" said Herkus, the senior Private in charge and also the tallest of the party at nearly six feet tall. He looked at the 50-yard-long steamer. Its looming mass looked dark under the brightening morning, where the rising sun showed up and instantly painted the river's ripples with a blaze of golden light. A little farther, an old soldier named Jonas was fishing with a rod while quietly smoking a pipe, making his uniform look more like a disguise on a peaceful man. The quiet of dawn accentuated the atmosphere of peace.

"We might get a lovely reward to-night if I heard my skipper correctly!" said a voice with a strong Polish accent. It was a man in his forties wearing an over-worn sailor's frock coat of a dark color. This was Aleksander, the ship's third mate. He was leaning on the deck's railings above the soldiers, with that slight trembling of hands he was known for.

"What do you mean?" asked the fourth soldier, a stout man with a thick beard who had an accordion.

"I mean, we'll be transporting lovely guests on board and to-night we're going to entertain the young ladies," the third mate replied, wearing a wide smile on a mischievous face.

"Young ladies?" asked Benas, his blue eyes wide under his wool pointed cap where some golden hair showed.

"Yes, Czarist ladies who need some communist indoctrination," the mate confirmed. "The higher-ups will be counting on us to hammer some lessons home if you know what I mean."

"I didn't join to be a brigand! If we do such things, then what's the difference between them and us?" Benas replied.

"Calm down, Angel Face, we may get killed to-morrow, so why not enjoy some plums when it's still time?" the stout soldier said, smiling in his thick beard as he struck a few notes on his accordion. "I haven't had a woman in months."

"Couldn't you get one here at the brothel?" Linas asked.

"Nay, I don't like sex you pay for. It doesn't feel right," replied the accordionist.

"You think forcing yourself on a girl feels right?" Benas replied, the youth in his handsome features reflecting the naive light in his eyes. Benas had sex only two days before with a young wife living in town. He still almost felt her mouth around his shaft and then thought of how he tried not to scream when he bucked her on all fours and came massively inside her. She was arguably the tightest woman he ever had. He was in no position to understand how ass-thirsty a man like the stout musician could be. Lukas "the Accordionist" was well into his forties with the wide face of a man who had become invisible to girls, who only had eyes for young men like Benas. Girls would dance to Lukas's music, but they would absolutely not end the night in his arms, although Lukas was deep down a good man who liked music, poetry, wine and women. Women loved his music, but not him. Even when he was young, they seldom did. He had still married, but the untimely passing of his beloved wife had left him a widower. He had a nineteen-year-old daughter in Lithuania and two younger twin sons, far and safe from the fighting.

"Maybe not, young man," Lukas answered after a pause, "but these Czarist Princesses need to be taken down a few notches, don't you think? They still look at us as if we were nothing but filth, especially me; you're young and handsome, but one day you'll understand the true nature of women. I hate the contempt in their eyes! Thus far we've always treated them kindly. I even play music for them and they thank me, politely, yet coldly. So yes, I want to teach them a good hard lesson and let them know, down to their bones, that now the power belongs to ordinary people! Like us!" the bearded musician said. His nondescript eyes were filled with lust; he kept seeing in his mind a damsel in the retinue by the name of Tamara, a troubled girl who kept playing cards alone or reading books by herself, the raven-haired daughter of a Baron from an old foreign house, and no matter what he just heard, the young lady and her porcelain skin felt way out of his reach. It had been long years since he last had a young lady without paying her.

"If I heard right," the third mate continued, "we're getting a young Countess to play with all night long!"

"You mean Countess—What's her name?" asked Herkus.

"Hendrikoff. Countess Hendrikoff" said Lukas. "She's a fine gem from the old world; young, and born to an old family. I guarded her door a couple times. She's more than pretty; she has grace."

"But... They'll be forty-five of us. She won't survive the festivities!" Benas ejaculated.

"Bah, she'll die a happy girl! Most of them secretly dream to get gang-fucked by the likes of us. I'm sure Lukas will play his accordion while we give her the finest of Lithuania," the senior Private, Herkus, chimed in.

"Oh, but we'll get our picks in the retinue, I mean the serving maids and even the doctor's wife; and she's a young wife," the third mate said. "It will be a real feast on deck to-night! Women and vodka!"

"But why can't we have the grand duchesses?" asked Linas.

"Profane! Profane! Don't say such a sacrilege thing!" Herkus bellowed.

"Nothing's sacred anymore! Proletarians are the kings now!" Linas exclaimed, hostility glowing in his eyes. How dare Herkus show reverence to royalty!

"Don't get over yourself, Linas" Herkus replied. "The inner guard will be protecting the grand duchesses and who's in command of them? Komroty "Buckaroo" Sidorov! Would you like to get shot through the heart? Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

"I'm sure they'll protect them fine!" said Aleksander the third mate.

"Why settle for a Countess when you can have a Grand Duchess?" Linas went on.

"Humility is the mother of all virtues" Lukas replied. "Now the sun's with us and the air's already getting warm. Today's gonna be a hot day. Let's sing The Dawn is Breaking together!"

"I still would love to fuck Tatiana Romanov!" Linas exclaimed.

"Shut up and sing!" Herkus ordered.

The stout soldier struck his accordion and began to sing, the red star adorning his filthy pointed wool cap seemed to be made of bright blood as a sun ray struck and seemed to bathe his wide face in pure gold. His large dark beard seemed to hug his musical instrument as he sang with a bass voice, his eyes filled with lust as he thought of Tamara and her graceful figure, the polar opposite of his own stout frame.

Beauštanti aušrelė, betekanti saulelė.
Kelk, seserėle, mano viešnele,
Ar dar tu n’išmiegojai?

Pinkisi vainikėlį, dėkisi ant galvelės.
Tavo sveteliai, balti broleliai,
Balnoj’ bėrus žirgelius.

Privažiavom dvarelį,
anytėlės vartelius.
Aš ir pamačiau savo vargelį
Prie anytos vartelių.

Ir išėjo brolelis, išsinešė kardelį.
O ir iškirto vartų lentelę,
Tik ne mano vargelį.

(Dawn is breaking, the sun is rising,
Wake up, dear sister, beloved guest,
Haven’t you slept enough?

Weave yourself a wreath, put it on your head.
Your guests, the good brothers,
Are saddling the horses.

We drove up to the gates
of my mother-in-law’s homestead
And I saw my misfortune,
Near my mother-in-law’s gates.

A brother came out carrying a sword.
He chopped a board out of the gate,
But not my misfortune.)

***

Captain Sidorov's thoughts...

Loading all that stuff on the Russ was a long and tedious business. I was the one in charge of the whole God-damned thing, after escorting the grand duchesses in their cabins, fore of the steamer, just below the command bridge and the cabins occupied by myself and Kommissar Rodionov along with the Skipper. Mr. Gibbes, the English tutor, occupies a cabin downstairs, facing the one shared by Olga and Tatiana. It's quite a stout ship with enough space for a hundred people on board. As for the stuff loaded on deck, it seemed that the entire Governor's House was emptied of all furniture to be transported to Yekaterinburg! I even saw the picture named the Slave Market being loaded without any protection, naked girl and all! I angrily ordered the men to have it properly covered under a fabric and to store it inside the ship along with the other delicate pieces of furniture.

I feel more and more nervous as the day goes by. We finally weighed the anchor a little past noon, when I had my first meal on board. The cook is a German-Polish man, I heard. I had sausages and sauerkraut and it was quite good. I came myself to thank the cook and was struck by the size of his belly. He's so very much like the proverbial big German, except he's huge. He looks like his belly could eat the entire ship! The meal came with a hearty beer that prompted me to take a nap during the afternoon, leaving Dimitri in charge.

During the meal taken together by all passengers in first class—the entire retinue, the officers, the ship's skipper and mates along with the inner guard—I saw Countess Hendrikoff. She ate with her face cast down, like an automaton. I didn't look at her all that much; I couldn't. But for what I could see, all life seems to have left her eyes. She's nothing but a shadow of the young noblewoman I met two days ago. What a pity! The Red Army breaks everything precious and truly beautiful.

Now the hours are passing faster because I dread what I'll have to do to-night. The Lithuanians all know I'll be there on deck with them. Somehow, they're all in a state of extreme excitation as they have learned that they're getting the young women in the retinue as a reward to-night. Many of them kept shooting at wild birds from the steaming ship. Fortunately for the poor birds, they aren't very good shooters. But what greatly concerns me is they'll go and pull the Countess from her cabin, and since I'll be the highest-ranking officer on deck, they'll expect me to go first inside her. I've seen enough of them to know that deep down, they're good soldiers who are going to rape her properly in order of rank. I don't see how I can avoid this. But I have to follow the Kommissar's orders. Protecting my wife will come at a very high cost. My sweet, beautiful Countess... I'll see her love for me die to-night!

***

The Russ made her way on schedule through the forest-covered heart of Siberia under blue heavens, on the tranquil Irtysh River toward Tyumen, where-from the grand duchesses would be taken to Yekaterinburg by rail. In his cabin, which normally served as the Skipper's, Kommissar Rodionov was passing time by playing cards with Komroty Sidorov and Lieutenant Malinovski and then they were joined by the Skipper, a tall grey-bearded man wearing an old battered frock coat, solid black with nothing indicating his rank; he presently acted as a humble guest in his own cabin.

"Playing rummy, I see," the Skipper said as he eyed the cards on the table and saw the sets and sequences. He grinned as he saw a group of three Queens, all except Clubs, that were surrounded by sequences of lower cards and a set of three Jacks. He looked at the Heart and thought of the royal ass he was going to get his hands on no later than that very night and this would be a once-in-a-lifetime journey in his un-glamorous life. His small eyes were glowing with anticipation and he even felt a nascent tension under his trousers beneath his long coat, which he presently removed and dropped on his bed, beside a box containing a set of cards where the Queens were in the nude.

Sidorov, as he played, looked at the three Queens and tried to distract himself from the horrible actions he would be required to perform on that night. He looked at the small clock on the wall, a German wooden clock whose hands seemed to have wings as time was flying, just like the statuette of Mercury that adorned the top of the clock with a label saying "Tempus fugit" under the figure's winged heels. Ivan had the Queen of Clubs in his hand and thought of Countess Hendrikoff. He despised himself. He knew he was going to be aroused from seeing the Countess in the hands of Lithuanian brigands.

For Rodionov, time was going at a snail's crawl. He was like a boy the day before Christmas; he couldn't wait to get his hands on his intended victim and unwrap his prize. The hands on that clock weren't moving! He sipped vodka from his glass and played a card. "Your turn, Ivan!" he said while Lieutenant Malinovski was nervously fidgeting with his cards. Petia M... kept gently stomping the floor under the table, as if he had a pressing urge to urinate, but he was doing this out of anxiety.

Petia had seen the hatred in the Countess's face when he raped her two nights before. He was afraid of her and wondered whether he'd be brave enough to do it again; and he knew he had to. He couldn't back down in front of his men! Nevertheless, Petia had had a horrific dream where the Countess had snakes for hair and eyes that turned him into stone, and as he couldn't move, she crouched down on him and bit off his turned-to-granite cock! And then he saw her face with fury-burning eyes and his severed cock in her mouth, with bright blood covering her chin and dripping down on her bare breasts. That was when he woke up.

"Petia! Your turn!" Sidorov said with an amused smile. "What's on your mind, friend?"

"N-Nothing, nothing at all," Petia replied as he picked a card. Then he poured himself another glass of vodka and drank it empty!

Down in their cabin, Olga and Tatiana were preparing for the night. It was already thirty past eight and they had had an exhausting day.

Anastasia was also preparing for her night. She had removed her travel dress. And now, wearing nothing more than the light nightgown that replaced her usual gown, she was brushing her bobbed hair while the sentry was shamelessly watching her. Nastya was used to this and thought nothing of it. She didn't notice that this time it was different.

Her elder sisters did notice. The eyes in this sentry were predatory. The other man downstairs with the sentry was Sergeant Dimitri, the assistant leader of the inner guard. Thankfully. Olga's hands were nonetheless trembling as she went to undo the buttons on her travel dress, before deciding to sleep with her clothes on. Tatiana was in a similar state and tried in vain to hide it from Olga, but her hands trembled too.

"I think you're right, sister. I'll sleep in my dress as well," Tatiana finally said as she took a hair brush. She never felt so helpless as she did right now. Her gut was telling her something terrible, horrible was going to happen during the night. She felt like a little girl terrorized of going to sleep as she knew she was going to have a nightmare, except the nightmare was going to be for real.

Olga suddenly broke down in tears and flung herself in Tatiana's arms, trying to suppress her sobs lest Nastya heard she was crying. "Sister! Sister! I'm so scared! So scared! Scared for Nastya! Scared for us! And there's nothing we can do! Nothing but pray that God keep us safe! Oh, Tania! What are we going to do?"

Tatiana couldn't think of anything to say. "We must have faith," she finally whispered to Olga's ear as she held her close to her heart, with tears rolling down her regal face. They heard Nastya from the next cabin. The sentries ordered her to remain in her own cabin. Nastya began to cry, and then Olga heard she was being comforted by Dimitri.

"Ivan Sidorov... Please, I'd like to see Captain Ivan Sidorov," Nastya said amid her tears.

"Poor Nastya..." Olga whispered amid her tears. "The Lord only knows what horrible fate could be in store for..."

"Don't you ever say such things, Olga!" Tatiana cut in. "Captain Sidorov is the one I would trust the most to protect her, I know because last night, he was there and protected me from the two worst guards."

"You mean last night..."

"It doesn't matter. The point is, there are a couple of men on this mad ship that aren't beasts. Oh, such a shame that we aren't even allowed to go see and comfort Nastya! Did you notice how that baby fat is leaving her face? Our little Nastya isn't so little anymore. By the time we'll be in England, I tell you she's going to be a young lady with plenty of suitors!"

"So you think we'll go in exile to England?"

"Yes, why not? King George is our relative, isn't he? He won't let us down. If, if something bad happened to us, it would set a horrible precedent. We're royalty, remember!"

Tatiana always knew what to say to make her sisters feel better. Indeed, Olga felt better. She sighed as she sat on her bunk. She quietly finished brushing her hair while she heard a sentinel crack a dirty joke and both men laughed. Olga wasn't laughing in the least. The joke was about Countess Olga Hendrikoff having to perform a dance on deck for the Lithuanians, in the nude. Were they going to force such a whorish shame on the Countess? They wouldn't dare! Olga's hand trembled again. She set her brush down on the tarpaulin bag that contained her personal belongings, including the precious gown with gems sewn into it. Perhaps it will come to this--She and Tatiana having to sacrifice the treasures of their bodies to protect Nastya. Nastya and the gems. Her hands were now positively shaking.

Nastya was so scared! Olga remembered how she ran into their cabin and into her arms as the Lithuanians kept shooting at aquatic birds as the steamer made her way down the river. Nastya was then caught by the sentry and forced back into her lonesome cabin, where she cried even more bitterly while Tatiana was angrily admonishing the guards, who only laughed at her.

The Lithuanians had done their duck-shooting spree pretty much all afternoon and you could hear their cheers. She remembered hearing the panicked flight of ducks and geese through the open porthole. No Romanov Eagle was there to tear the eyes of those drunkards with its Imperial talons. Olga and her sisters were royalty, but they were stuck on a mad, evil ship like captive noblewomen on a pirate ship filled with the worst kind. Nonetheless, sleep found Olga on the gently rocking steamer that was anchored for the night in the middle of the river with lanterns glowing fire and sending golden ripples on the black-ink waters bordered by nothing but Siberian forests and wilderness.

***

Captain Sidorov's thoughts...

If anything was to break me, that was it. Dimitri went to fetch me in the Skipper's cabin while I was playing rummy with the Kommissar, Malinowski and the Skipper. Anastasia wanted to see me. "The kid's in tears, she wants to see you," Dimitri told me. So I went downstairs to see what was the matter. I have to say, much to my shame, that I was eager to see her for reasons that weren't entirely moral. Becoming close to her person filled me with a profound sense of fascination, for she was royalty.

Olga and Tatiana were holding each other and crying. No more imperial hauteur in Tatiana's face; I felt sad for them, knowing what was in store for the elder sisters. Very sad indeed. Nastya was by herself in the next cabin, facing the one occupied by the English tutor, I think. One sentry was Stefan, wearing an evil grin as he looked at Olga and Tatiana while smoking a cigarette. I was so eager to see Nastya I barely noticed him. The other sentry stopped looking at Nastya's bare feet and made way for me. As soon as she saw me walking in her cabin, Nastya smiled amid her tears and predictably threw herself in my arms. The scent from her chestnut hair filled my soul with passion; an insane passion. She was royalty! She was so beautiful! Her face still retained some baby fat, yet she was turning into a young woman. Who will marry her will be a lucky man.

"Close the door, Igor. Close the door; if Rodionov comes down, I take full responsibility!" I ordered that brute of a sentinel. Igor was a brutish peasant, but a reliable one. He did as he was told and upon realizing I was alone with the Merry Little One, whose tears were presently wetting my neck as she stood on the tip of her feet, I felt a formidable sense of elation and took pleasure in defying the Kommissar's standing order of leaving the door open at all times. I knew Rodionov was playing cards upstairs and smugly recounting his Revolution exploits with young noblewomen.

"Ivan! I'm so happy to see you!" Nastya said, pushing herself higher on her toes so she could be more level with me as I stooped down. Then I felt... her lips on mine? She was kissing me. I kissed her back. Before I knew it, we were both sitting on her bunk and furiously kissing each other. She was so sweet! I kept stroking her chestnut hair and further went insane amid this girly scent. It was like vanilla that lingered on a bouquet of roses.

"Stop those tears, Shvibzik and give me your smile!" I whispered, gently petting her nose. And she did smile. But her eyes were serious.

"I... I'm in love with you..." the girl whispered, her blue eyes more alive than ever as she pressed herself against me and hugged me with all the strength she had in her little arms. The poor girl! I remained silent, not knowing what to tell a girl who was under such a grave danger amid a civil war that she never asked for.

"I feel safe now, Ivan. Thank you... thank you," she added as I held her against me while she rested her head on my chest as I stroked her hair softly. Tears were welling in my eyes. I thanked myself for ordering the door closed and knew I could trust Igor not to peek in. Not so much for Stefan, but woe betide him if he had the audacity! Time stops as I gently nudge Nastya's chin up and we kiss again. I'm in heaven! Young again as I kiss the youngster and hold her waist.

Everything goes fast. Nastya is now kissing my chest through my Bolshevik uniform. "First time I do this... Keep the noise down... I want this to last forever, Ivan! I feel so funny... I love you!"

As she speaks, Shvibzik, or the Merry Little One, unbuttons my uniform's tunic with feverish fingers. I feel her desire, her sense of curiosity. I keep stroking her hair as she opens my tunic. I see the little disappointment in her eyes as she finds my thin linen shirt underneath. I learned a long time ago that when a girl wants to kiss your chest, then she also wants to fuck. I feel the insane surge down south as I realize I'm about to make love with Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanova, youngest daughter of the former Czar, and my age is turning this encounter into a farce. I know I ought to stop this now, but my hard surge down south is keeping me from stopping. Her little hands on my chest, through my thin shirt also want to continue.

Nastya becomes aggressive and pushes the linen up and her eyes! Her eyes are filled with sapphire light as she discovers my slightly hairy torso, and I feel anxious because I've put on a shallow layer of fat through the years, not all that much, but enough to mar what used to be a well-sculpted physique. I regret not having kept up the kettle-bell exercises. And yet Nastya is caressing this hairy chest of mine, where some white hair is now meeting her adolescent fingers as she gently rubs me with her pretty little hands. Soon, she's kissing my chest, then my belly! I must stop this madness before she...

It's no use! I let Nastya nudge me into lying down on her bunk, and then, with a giggle that can only come from a true youngster, she begins to unbutton my dark khaki trousers while I look down to admire her young figure through her blue travel dress that she's still wearing as it's still not so late in the evening. My morals want to stop her, but my lust is too strong.

Before long, my blood-gorged cock leaps out of the opening and she giggles and smiles, embarrassment showing in her blue eyes as she sees it.

"First time for me, my love," the kid whispers as she gently kisses the head of my cock, and I grow harder! No! I must not allow her to... Too late! Her mouth now imprisons my shaft and, and she begins to suck. She's looking at me, her gentle mouth filled with my hard erection as she moves, so tenderly moves up and down with the seal of her lips. Oh, God! It feels so good! It shouldn't be permitted to happen! I'm not an English Lord! But I stroke her bobbed hair as she keeps at it, now working my full length and taking me deep inside her novice mouth, her hands just planted there and I could tell she feels awkward, because this is indeed her first time. I tenderly keep stroking her hair as I feel my precum spill inside Nastya's mouth. Oh, Lord, I love the feel of her tongue!

"What's this?" she says, a spot of gloss showing on her lips, and then she licks her lips. "Tastes salty... bitter too. Are you? Did you? Is it already done?!" she asks, worry showing in her eyes.

"No, my beloved," I whispered. "No, it's not done yet, but please keep your voice down. And let me undress you!"

"Yes yes, my love, undress me! I'll help you! You know, I was only in my gown brushing my hair, but I've put my dress back on so you can have the pleasure of..."

"Keep your voice down!"

This is so crazy! Stefan could peek in any moment, but the thrill is too much for me to let the opportunity pass me by. I unbutton open the front of her dress and I cup her breasts through the thin gown she's wearing under it.

Her breasts are average in size and plump to the touch, loaded with that same baby fat that fills her cheeks as she fondly smiles at me, her eyes half-closed, clearly enjoying what I'm doing, and I experience a sense of overwhelming elation and arousal as I feel her nipples through the thin cotton. I want so much to tear it open and uncover them! But I want to be gentle and I fear this would startle her. She lies down on the bunk and lets me completely remove her blue dress that matches her eyes, and then she's only wearing a white gown that matches her innocence.

I'm now kissing and caressing her lower legs, then getting my kisses acquainted with the spiritual cheese of her feet. Nastya's feet! At last! Royal relics of fair skin, and I would worship the ground she walks on. These same adorable feet that were playing with me and pressing my thigh under the table when we played colorito.

"Are you going to kiss my feet the whole evening, lover?" she whispers, panting. "I... I want you to fuck me, I really do!"

Such crude words out of her! This has a formidable effect upon me. I furiously push her gown all the way up, uncover the triangle of her pubic hair and begin to cover this royal plate of delicate brown hair with kisses, kisses galore and then more kisses! Insanity! Profanity! Her hands are stroking my hair, feverishly, and my tongue is inside her wet entrance! She begins to whimper, her pussy is throbbing and I keep rolling my tongue, rimming her entrance with something she never felt before. I can tell she does her best to keep her noise down.

My cock is the hungriest of all creditors that demands its due. So I go higher onto her, where I kiss her while she instinctively spreads her legs and wraps them around me. I feverishly jockey for position amid her hot, ravenous kisses as she keeps whispering, "Yes, yes, fuck me! I want you inside me, Ivan!"

The penetration comes, powerful and unexpected. She wraps her legs hard around me and begins to moan! I press a hand on her mouth as I begin to pound her. I'm so hard! She's so tight and narrow! I keep plowing her and keep my hand pressed on her mouth, and see the surprise and shock in her eyes as her mind tries to process all that's happening to her at once. It's like raping her! I keep pounding her. The wrap of her legs around me gets insane! Her lovely little feet! I picture them in my mind, see them very clearly where they must be, hoovering on top of me. I even feel one of her heels gently strike my buttocks. It's so good to be inside the youngster! Nastya!

"Are you crossing your ankles on top of me, honey?" I confusedly ask her amid grunts I try to keep as low as possible. Her vagina is so ungodly tight!

She nods, yes she is. And I picture her pale feet, so small and gentle and the beautiful rosy of her heels, in a girly show she's putting for me! If Stefan is peeking in now, then I envy him for beholding such a sight--Nastya, barefoot and crossing ankles atop me as she gets fucked. Nay, deflowered!

I keep up the pounding, my hand pressed on her sweaty face, the wild confusion in her eyes, her blushed face and the warmth of her chestnut hair as her head gently bobs on her pillow from my repeated strokes as I pound her harder on the creaking bed, always seeing her adolescent feet in my mind; she's crossing ankles and wrapping her legs hard around me. We're one! I pass my edge and...

"NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN-NNNNNNNN-nnnnnnnnNNNHH Nastya!"

The rage in the bursting semen is off the charts! My body shows me it's made for filling up such young maidens like my beloved Nastya. I haven't experienced such a fierce ejaculation in long years, since the years my wife was about her age. And this is where I learn that adolescent girls are what I've always desired the most. Such a huge load for such a small girl!

"Did you enjoy it?" Nastya asks after a while, her breathing still heavy.

"Yes, Nastya, very much. You're a wonderful girl, Nastya!"

"Then I'm happy. If anything bad ever happens to me, I'll have this precious memory. You know, that's why I sent for you!"

"Oh, but it's not over yet, Nastya..."

And as I speak, I move myself and push her bunched-up gown further up her torso. Sensing my intent, she helps me by raising her arms and moving herself, and soon enough, I utter a grunt of satisfaction as I behold her naked breasts, set at rest upon her small torso, like two milky knolls of pleasure waiting for my kisses with such delicate nipples of a gentle rose that says, "Royalty here!"

"Oh, this feels so nice!" Nastya whimpers as I land gentle kisses on the nearest nipple and learn that her pale areolas have little goosebumps. One of her tits, the one on her right, is slightly fuller than the other and wears a small birth mark about an inch from her areola at three o'clock, that is, toward her priceless cleavage. The taste of Nastya's breasts defies all earthly understanding. They're all baby fat and softness. They yield wonderfully under my caressing touch as she whimpers and presses herself upon me, and as I suck her tits and enjoy the burgeoning young lady, I feel something against my thigh and realize she's pressing against me and moving herself in such a way that she's rubbing her cunt against me, and this is why she whimpers on, ever more intensely.

I keep sucking and kneading her breasts as she moans ever more intensely from rubbing her naked cunt against my thigh. She's loading up to a climax, but she's too noisy! Her sisters in the next cabin must be hearing it all, the guards too! My hand makes a pressing return on her mouth.

"Keep the noise down!" I whisper while gently pinching her nipple between my lips, and she nearly jerks in a sort of quiet convulsion under me. She likes this, very much, so I do it again. With each gentle pinch from my lips, her milky breasts seem to swell as she rubs her pubis against me ever more frantically. She is literally twist-dancing under me while I keep a firm hand on her mouth to silence what would be a loud litany of singing moans and whimpers. One of her hands moves down south and it is clear she's near her edge. Her other hand finds my hip, then begins to caress my ass, still uncovered as my uniform trousers are still a bit down. She must be feeling the hair on my butt cheeks.

She explodes in a squirming of hard muffled sounds and writhes like a frying fish on a pan! Nastya's eyes are half-closed blue lights of shocked wonder as she looks at me and we share the moment. She is hitting it way high up there, perhaps oblivious of where she is. I move up to her face and kiss her, feeling her ecstasy as she kisses me back and our tongues fiercely jockey with each other in a heated exchange. The youngster is drowning in too many new sensations; the older man drowning in the paradise of her youth. Why can't this last forever? But I'm a married man. Happily so.

I heard footsteps near the door. There was a knock. I heard Dimitri's voice, which greatly reassured me. Dimitri's steps sound remarkably like Rodionov's.

"The Kommissar wants to see you, Komroty!"

"Very well, Dimitri. Tell him I'm on my way."

"He wants to see you right now!"

"You will address me as Komroty. I said I'm on my way!"

"At your orders, Komroty!"

I knew Dimitri would make up some believable story, something like I had to give a hand to someone on deck and carried something that had my uniform dirty and I had to change in my second tunic. Indeed, I always kept one tunic clean to show up to a superior or look neat during meals and on the parade square, while the main tunic was identical, but always worn on my more mundane duties. Me and Nastya, we had only a few precious minutes left to us, before parting ways.

I kept kissing the youngster and cupped one of her buttocks as I flipped ourselves on the side. There was some plumpness in her ass, it felt soft like baby skin with plenty of girly fat; she was slightly overweight, gracefully so and this was where she stored it. And yet there was some firmness too. She was so beautifully young! Scandalous! I regretted not having time to kiss and lick those buttocks and take another tour of her youngster's body, but she held me tight and kept kissing me, her hand still on my naked ass.

"Well," she finally whispered, smiling like a little girl happy with some dirty joke she played at someone's expense, "this was my very first time. Did you enjoy this? I did."

I just nodded. She was so beautiful! Her cornflower blue eyes were lakes of happiness. I was happy to give her an oasis of mirth and passion in the bleak desert she was going through. It is only then that I noticed my right hand was smeared with blood that could only come from her. She laughed as she saw the drying red on my hand. "Oh, yes, me and my sisters, we, you know, it's our month."

"Nastya, you will make a wonderful English lady," I finally said while covering her face with pecking kisses, and she laughed, but then became serious as she processed my words and their meaning.

"So we must part ways..."

"I'm really sorry, honey, but yes, you will likely go in exile with your family and I have my wife to care for in Saint Petersburg. No one can argue against fate, a Grand Duchess knows this."

She said nothing. Tears were watering her eyes, giving them a nearly preternatural glow under the warm light from the cabin's lamp.

"Please, hold me, lover, and give me my gown back, I'm cold!"

I did what she asked and helped her back into her nightgown while I put myself back together. Then I hugged her and she gently rested her head against my chest, the White Grand Duchess nestled against the uniformed bosom of the officer from the Workers' and Peasants' Red Army. The girl in love holding the smitten grown man.

"Now I can go to sleep in peace, knowing you're here, Ivan... Ivan, kiss me again!" she finally said.

I kissed Nastya and then wiped my tears using my sleeve, while I told her to go to sleep. My dark khaki uniform was a reminder of my duty, moral and military. She was too young for anything bad happening to her.

"No need to tell me a fairy tale, I'm too old for this now! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" she jested as I finally opened her door. I will never forget her laughter. Nobody laughs like Anastasia!

As I walk out of her cabin and pass the cabin shared by her elder sisters, I hear Nastya as she breaks down in tears.

"Dimitri," I said once I was upstairs, "Dimitri, see to it that nothing happens to her to-night! I'm trusting you!"

I would die if any harm happened to her. It wasn't just that I didn't want to lose her love. It was the basic moral duty of protecting the innocent. Protecting virtue. I was no knight by birth, but why shouldn't I start acting like one? Maybe it was not too late for me to redeem myself and become truly brave and gallant. But no man alive can argue with fate.

To-night would perhaps be ideal to make an escape with the grand duchesses. The Lithuanians would all be drunk on deck and busy raping the Countess along with other young women from the retinue. If I could rally enough of my men, we could maybe push to the safety boats and make it to the shore. This would be risky, but God would be on our side. My hands are trembling! I'm scared to death. Either way I'm scared. I composed myself. My hands stopped trembling once I washed them.

Rodionov seemed happy to see me. We had a glass of cognac together as we went through all the details for this all-important night. Rodionov, Dimitri and the rest of the inner guard would stand a close watch near the grand duchesses, while I would be in command of the Lithuanians on deck along with Lieutenant Malinovski.

Nastya! I will always remember her wonderful face. And her eyes. Vivid in my mind even if I live to be a hundred. (See Picture 1)

***

The Lithuanians had numbers and time on their side. They had all waited for the nightfall with great impatience. Some had said they ought to have the grand duchesses dancing for them to the accordion of their musician, a stout bearded man by the name of Lukas. He played the accordion while all men sang under the stars as the waxing gibbous moon rose in the cooling sky, yet the breeze kept notes of warmth. Someone said they couldn't ask for better weather. Lanterns were now ablaze and made the deck amidship a place bathed in golden light; festive lights, but there was a dark sense of tension and anticipation in the air. The men knew what treat they were getting that night.

Komroty Ivan "Buckaroo" Sidorov had told them the grand duchesses were dog-tired and needed to rest, so they couldn't come and dance for them. Then he promised them, with a lewd smile, that come morning grand duchesses Olga and Tatiana would serve them breakfast, topless. And now they had vodka to drink. Now they were free to go aft and fetch whoever they wanted among the retinue! Some of the Lithuanians weren't pleased at all with this; they had hoped to fetch the grand duchesses and gang-rape them on deck, but most men either feared Ivan's Nagant or simply settled for or preferred the beauties of a lesser rank that now belonged to them.

Thus, the vodka-drinking Lithuanians rushed aft of the ship and downstairs, their cocks already pushing the front of their dirty trousers as they grinned like devils and began to go from door to door, sowing panic as they began beating up the men and asking them where Countess Hendrikoff was, where Tamara was. With Ivan and Petia leading them along with Sergeant Kürschner.

Tamara was the daughter of Baron Grigory von Greifswald Palhen, a member of an old noble family of Pomeranian origin with branches that were German, Estonian, Russian, Lithuanian, Swedish and Baltic German. The Baron had a mansion in Saint Petersburg back in the Empire days, along with an old 16th-century castle and estate in Lithuania, where Tamara had spent most of her childhood under a local-born governess, who became a second wife for the Baron. Baron was always a title used by noble houses of foreign origin, the title of feudal Prince or Grand Prince being reserved for the Russian and Ukrainian houses, who also used Count, or Graf, since the days of Peter the Great. Tamara was a well-read maiden who spoke Russian, German and Lithuanian. When her father befriended the Czar's brother and moved to the court in Saint Petersburg during the Great War, she had felt inadequate because she didn't speak a word of French. She was often made fun of because of this.

The Revolution had come uninvited to the ball, the Winter Palace had fallen, and her father had followed his Czar in captivity instead of fleeing, out of loyalty, bravery and perhaps foolishness. Tamara had been filled with dread ever since she had got wind of the horrible things the Bolsheviks did to noble families who fell in their hands. The fate met by the female members of these families was especially scary. Nobody really talked about it, but she knew. And yet, Tamara felt a secret sense of revenge and satisfaction from knowing that some of the noblewomen who had mocked her for not knowing French or being a clumsy dancer had been gang-r... she didn't dare pronounce the horrible word in her Russian-speaking thoughts. She knew some of these haughty ladies had been defiled at the hands of uniformed brigands and angry peasants. The dark part within her loved it.

But she was scared, terrified, especially on this evening as she heard the rowdy cheers from the Lithuanian guards who were having a loud party on deck. The cabin she shared with her father was aft and yet she heard their roar. Those awful men were drinking, playing the accordion and dancing and cheering and whistling in an increasingly lewd manner. Tamara couldn't bring herself to take off her dress and go to bed in her petticoat. She remained up and grabbed a book. She began reading Pushkin's Queen of Spades while her father also sat on his bunk and read something too. Her hands trembled as she tried to escape in this last-century novella. The Russian characters on the yellowed pages were reassuring, welcoming, as if these letters were as many Imperial soldiers who would protect her and die for her if need be.

Her cat was purring on her lap. Дейзи, or Daisy was a cat of a warm caramel colour on her back and the top of her head, and all white below. Tamara had always been fond of her ever since she adopted the baby cat as a gift on her seventh birthday. Her mother had vanished in October last year, gone or taken, her father wouldn't say anything. A cold had set between Tamara and her father ever since. She felt less alone with the 12-year old cat purring on her lap.

Beside the distant roar and music and singing from the rowdy Lithuanians, everything was tranquill. Tamara was reading quietly. So did her father. The only thing that bothered her in the immediate was the smell from the chamber pot they both had to use overnight as they were strictly forbidden to leave their cabin, and she wouldn't dare anyway. It felt strange to have her father relieving his bladder or bowels while she was in the same room, but the Lithuanians had put her in this cabin with her father and for some reason, they had refused to allow her to stay along with some other female members of the retinue. Fortunately, she had her dress to use for cover when she herself had to serve the common human lot, but it felt beyond weird to do so with Grigory present. Her father didn't speak much to her since her mother was gone, but now and then he would tell her she was just as pretty as her mother was when he met and married her. She was the last born and the only one of their children who had lived to adulthood.

Everything was quiet in the cabin. There was the gentle shuffling when she turned pages, and the shuffling from her father's book. The distant roar from the party on deck was but a minor nuisance as she advanced through her Pushkin novella and neared the end when she knew the Queen of Spade would turn up in a moment of supreme irony. Daisy was purring on her lap, satisfied with the morsels Tamara had kept for her along with a saucer of milk. Everything was almost like in the old castle where she grew up. Almost. Something felt terribly wrong. It was in the air. It clung to her skin. To her elegant dress, of an old rose hue, that she wore under a satin black shawl that brought life to the notes of brown her black hair offered. She wore a matching rose ribbon in her hair. This was the very same outfit she wore in May exactly a year before, when she posed for a portrait the Dutch painter finished on her 18th birthday.

She still had the portray vivid in her mind. Daisy was on her lap when she posed. She loved how the painter had done justice to her delicate lips and her even more delicate eyebrows. Tamara was maybe a troubled girl who kept to herself in society, but she was proud of her pristine beauty, a grace left to her by her mother. (See Picture 1)

This was back when she still lived in a protected world, in a dimension of time and space that seemed cut off from the commoners living far beneath her. Before all hell broke lose and those same commoners took over. And there she was, a captive fearing her guards. All this because her foolish father wanted to be brave and loyal to the bitter end. Fool! He could have fled to relatives in Germany while there was still time! The fool! Does he want to see his own daughter raped in front him? Oh, she just said the word in her thoughts! And now she trembled. Positively so.

The roaring Lithuanians got closer. Too close! She heard women screaming and men bellowing orders in Lithuanian. Men protesting in Russian, someone even indignant and speaking French! The protests were swiftly brought to an end. She could tell the men were being beat up by the Lithuanians as women filled the hallway with shrill screams and the guards went... door to door?! She even heard one of them say "the Baron's right there with his daughter!" Her fluency in Lithuanian made her panic explode like linguistic dynamite. She was going to be gang-raped! And she'd understand every one of their lewd remarks. She tensed up, closed her book and Daisy jumped off her and onto her bunk. Heat invaded her face, her cheeks flushed and rosy. She began to sweat and for some weird reason, she felt arousal too, down there under her rose dress.

Tamara shrieked just as the door of her cabin was smashed open and hell broke lose as she knew life as she knew it had come to a horrific end. They knocked out her father with a rifle butt and then there were hands on her wrists and ankles as they lifted her up and carried her out and into the hallway while Daisy had fled to some darker corner of the cabin. The Lithuanians weren't after her cat. They were after her, after the treasures of her body that lay under her legacy dress from another era; from the year before.

"Bring the father! Bring him! Made him watch!" said a tall Sergeant she recognized through the thick press of Lithuanians that utterly filled the panicked hall as they went through the cabins looking for other victims.

Tamara then heard the indignant protests from a voice she knew well. Countess Hendrikoff's aristocratic Russian was unmistakable. They had taken her too. She heard the panicked shrieks from the young serving maids. Of course, those drunkards were picking the prettier girls. Through her shrieking panic, Tamara felt horrifically shamed, and yet there was a putrid sense of pride in her as they carried her upstairs. She was a blossoming maiden of nineteen springs, so they had chosen her; they had good taste. She hated herself for thinking this way, it was preposterous! Immoral of her! But no one ever taught her what to do when a gang of lewd soldiers were about to rape her. Her entire upbringing and education had hinged on the certainty no such things would ever happen to her.

The men carrying her through the crowded hallway laughed and spoke. She heard them...

"Tamara Palhen is very pretty! We'll undress her completely. She deserves the royal treatment!" said a man who, much to hear horror, was well into his fifties, just as old as her father!

"Well said, Jonas! Oh, God! This will be so good to rape her!"

"And right in front of her noble father! Benas, this is our lucky night!"

"I've always dreamed of her since the first time I saw her!"

"Well you gonna get her, Herkus, and it looks like there's no Corporal around, so you'll be first inside her!"

"Thanks, Lukas! I guess to-night you're gonna have a white-swan girl!"

"Don't worry, sweet swan, we're gonna take good care of you and your body! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" Tamara heard said by the same stout bearded man who had just been called Lukas. Just as the evening's cool breeze kissed her face and she heard Countess Hendrikoff screaming in panic amid a pack of a Lithuanians.

"Please, go easy on me, I'm virgin!" Tamara wanted to say, but no word came out of her terror-choked gullet, while the soldier called Benas, a very handsome lad about her age, took her satin black shawl off her shoulders.

"You're all going to hang for this! Bastards! Brigands!" shouted her father before someone punched him.

"This shawl is so soft! Let's see if her butt is just as smooth!" Benas said as he rubbed the black shawl on his angel's face while the ugly stout man whistled as he contemplated the nubile, petite figure of Tamara, who was restrained and tried to scream, but her terror amid the men towering over her kept her silent. Her dark eyes made panicked rounds around the Lithuanians, where ugly older men stood beside younger ones, a couple of them handsome. They were eye-raping her like the brigands they were.

In the golden light from torches and lanterns, the rose of her dress took a pale rosy beige colour, and without her pitch-black shawl, her long hair looked solid black with golden strands of light. Her panicked eyes kept silently shrieking as she was hit full-on by the realization she was just about to be deflowered many times over as she stood amid a lewd concert of whistles and catcalls and jeers, with male gazes and male hands pressing themselves everywhere on her, especially on her legs under her dress, while her father renewed his loud protests, only to be punched back down on the deck. Someone undid her hair, and bragged about finding strands of black gold! Tears streamed down her face while some lewd older man caressed her face and told her not to worry, that she was going to love her first time. She trembled. From head to toe!

"Tie this old bugger up! Let him watch!" ordered a Corporal who looked like a man who had not washed in weeks, the despicable red star adorning his garrison cap. He then rushed at Tamara and stooped down as he grabbed and kissed her by force! His breath reeked of vodka and cheap tobacco! And this was Tamara's very first kiss from a man. This while a cohort of hands ran all over her legs under her dress while someone was undoing her ankle-high shoes.

"You won't be needing this, Milady!" said someone as she felt the laces of her black leather shoes being undone.

"I wanna kiss her feet! So small and lovely!"

"I can't wait to fuck her!"

"Let's fuck her! The lovely little Baroness! She's ours!"

"I'm gonna try her ass! Her noble ass!"

"No Imperial army is going to save you, little swan! Hey, me first, Corporal! I'm the oldest man here!"

"Wait your turn, Lukas! We do her by order of rank and seniority. It's me and then Herkus, and then Jonas! Then you!"

"He's right, Corporal! I'm the oldest Private here!" Jonas ejaculated, his eyes exploding with madness as he partook to Tamara's violent undressing.

"N-niet... niet..." Tamara finally managed to utter, lost in a sea of male lust and jeers and hands as they tore her rose dress and uncovered her half corset, while she suddenly felt the deck under her bare feet. Her hair in black disarray reflected the state of her mind as that stout man by the name of Lukas forced his lips on hers and she felt the surprisingly soft brush of his thick beard, and she suddenly recognized the usually jovial accordion player, now turned into a brigand who pressed his dark beard on her face and made her look even paler and more diminutive against his stout build.

"Get out of the way, Lukas, we wanna see her tits!" the Corporal barked.

Lukas helped the process by pressing his hands hard on Tamara's sides, and she wanted to claw at his eyes, but her wrists were restrained by jeering men and all she could do was balling her little hands into girly fists of powerless rage as the stout musician pressed her sides so hard it hurt like waves of terror as she realized what he was doing. The steel busks came off and her half corset opened while still fastened in her back.

And then, Lukas let out a wild scream of elation as he tore the front of her petticoat wide open! What he saw filled his cock with fire! He had never seen such a gorgeous pair of small breasts! They seemed to float in a surreal world as the sobbing girl wriggled and desperately tried to break free, only succeeding at making her tits even more madly attractive from their gentle jiggling as they moved along with her despair.

"Girly titties! Girly titties!" Jonas yelled, his eyes out of their sockets as Tamara's delicate breasts came into sight with her small brown nipples amid the ravaged ruins of her white petticoat and the lost spring of her rose dress. Her breasts floated, their shapes perky and firm, high-riding, floating amid the whistling jeering mass of Lithuanians like a fantasy of pale skin. This innocence of flesh bathed in the golden light from the nearby lanterns and torches.

"To-night we're getting married, my lovely little swan!" Lukas said as he and his wide fat face plunged upon Tamara's bare tits! He began to suck them! Avidly. He cupped them like a man who just found the most precious treasure ever! As he circled a nipple with his tongue, he let her feel the brush of his beard on her sensitive skin as her nostrils got raped by his rowdy musk.

Tamara was feeling the mouth of a man on her breasts for the very first time, this while a pack of hands were avidly tearing her dress into rose shreds, like a herd of peasants plucking rose petals off a naked Baroness. The ripping sounds of tore fabric deafened her to all those lewd jeers and remarks around her. She only heard the touch of the brigands, through her shattering soul, as she felt the warm, wet tongue of that stout musician pressuring her left nipple, also felt his big hammy hands as he cupped and pressed her breasts while tasting them.

"N-niet... Niet!" Tamara blurted out in her native Russian while everyone spoke Lithuanian around her.

"Little Czarist bitch!"

"She needs a solid diet of Bolshevik cocks!"

"Fuck! She's got the ass of an angel!" a soldier said just as Tamara felt the man's kisses on her exposed butt cheeks as they finished stripping her naked, turning her into a petite vestal standing on top of rose ruins that used to be her favorite dress, and sobbing as fate closed in upon her. She then heard a gross comment about her lovely triangle of pubic hair, "very delicate, like all of her", and then she also got kissed and licked down there.

Lukas said, in Russian, that she was a very lucky девушка (dievushka = maiden, girl), very lucky indeed to be getting so much attention from brave men. Much to her shame, she felt her body was responding and took a life of its own as it prepared for the upcoming invasion. She was wet and she felt a measure of horrific curiosity while dreading what came next, and yet she wondered what it was like to be taken by a man. By Men! Men! Too many! What a horror to lose her innocence like a piece of meat amid this pack of brigands! Tamara would join all the girls in history who got raped during the sacking of a castle or a town by troops and peasants of the winning side; join them in a long history of female suffering at the hands of fate.

The unknown man kissing the south of her naked hips introduced his tongue inside her while the forest of hands and mouths devoured Tamara's innocence on every inch of her. Someone was even kissing her bare feet! Tamara remained barely able to utter a sound, her gullet knotted by terror, only able to utter a feeble "niet" now and then. Tamara was in tears. Her tears flowed out of her like her virginity as she feared the rape itself with increasing dread.

The lewd Corporal gave quick orders as to how he wanted Tamara to be kept floating amid the men, and the soldiers obeyed. They lifted her up and held her like that, nothing of her touching the deck, her four limbs hopelessly restrained by grinning men who were about to each take their turn inside her. The Corporal, a man about twice her age, dropped his trousers and proudly showed her his six incher. Tamara shrieked as she saw a man for the first time, other than her father when he was peeing in the chamber pot without minding her presence.

"You filthy peasants! I'll kill you and burn you ali-OWWW!"

"Shut up and watch! See how we punish a Czarist tramp!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH NIET NIET NIET!!!" Tamara exploded in a shriek as the Corporal rushed between her spread-out legs and rammed himself inside her without anything remotely gentle. Tamara screamed even louder and shriller as the searing pain detonated in throbbing waves from her shocked pussy...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AHH-NIIEEET AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

"Yaaarrrrhhh!" uttered the vile Corporal as he felt her tightness and understood he wasn't going to last long, and as he took Tamara's hips while others fondled and played with her floating tits, he began to pound her fast and hard, preparing himself for a short-lived yet very intense bout of forced sex, with him on the fun side.

"Aaahh yes! Yes! Yes, at last! The Baron's daughter... Oooh God she's so God-damned good to fuck!" the thirty-something Corporal uttered amid his grunts as he imposed the brutal sight of his ill-shaven face, a dark-mustached face, imposed it on the suffering girl, who kept screaming her pain, her shame as the Lithuanian Corporal kept pounding her mercilessly while her pure-white bosom remained the prey of other brigands. He kept at it, relentless, raping her with growing brutality while she squealed and whimpered, squirming under the strain from the grinning men holding her wrists and ankles while they played with her vestal's breasts.

"I love those little tits!" Lukas said, his hands jockeying for them against several others as her pretty face was tensed, her mouth wide open as she kept screaming while her head bobbed on along with the debauchery of her black hair amid the collective rape.

The moustached Corporal became demented! He caressed Tamara's thighs, that were forced to keep brushing against the sides of his wool uniform, against the enemy khaki, while he gave her all he had. He presently grabbed her waist and went into a frenzy where his entire being was just one cock plowing Tamara!

Tamara saw him and it was so scary! His distorted face was twisted from the strain of his demented strokes, and he lost frothing slobber that landed on her tummy as he stooped a bit down and even lost his garrison cap as he went into his final rush amid the loud jeering soldiers, and Tamara saw the man was balding. So ugly! She hated him even more for this! So wild were his convulsions! He held her waist painfully hard and was fully bent on giving her the deepest and most brutal rape he could...

"Aaah aaah yes! Yes it's there! AAAAAAAAA AAA AAAAAAhnddjj AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAnnnnnnnnnH OOOHHH!!! Small girl, big load!" he uttered as Tamara realized with a shock that he just erupted inside her. This killed her. The next Lithuanian would be raping the ghost of a girl.

The slobbering, balding Corporal stooped down and sucked her breasts as the other hands made way for him. Tamara didn't want to see this! So ugly! But she was glad the pain had stopped down there. He was bathing her breasts in his slobber. "Aaaaaaaahh, this is good, very very good! Thank you for letting us rape you, young lady!" he finally said and was gone. Another soldier took the coveted spot between her legs.

"Come on, Herkus! Show her! Show the little Czarist bitch what it's like to be raped by the Red Army!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA NIET! NIEET! PREKRATIITE NIET!" Tamara screamed out in her native Russian, but they didn't stop. She was soon drowned in a new bout of pain as the one they called Herkus forcefully penetrated her. Without mercy!

Once again, she was kept off the deck amid the jeering men while a soldier raped her. She heard other girls screaming but had no idea of what was going on elsewhere on the ship's deck. To her, the gibbous moon seemed to dance in the night sky as if taunting her while her head bobbed from the second man who deflowered her. She was in pain and shaken so bad! The younger man inside her seemed determined to surpass the Corporal in brutality.

Herkus raped her with her legs propped up, holding her thighs and banging her with all he had while the others kept her off the deck at the right height for him. He loved her slim legs, so snowy white! Loved even more her gorgeous little feet that oozed with delicate sensuality. He, a peasant from some countryside in Lithuania, he was now kissing the feet of a Baron's daughter! While raping her! He raped her as if he was to be shot tomorrow at dawn and enjoying his last round of pleasure on earth. Tamara's legs and feet made the rape much shorter. Overwhelmed with an overflow of savage lust, the young man screamed! In complete bliss as he burst inside Tamara, his bolts of semen raging in long angry ropes as he fertilized the noble maiden...

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah yes! We won! We won! All inside herrrrrhh!"

"I'll fucking kill ya filthy peasants-OWWWW!" uttered Tamara's father and he got hit again as he watched the gang-rape of his dear daughter, who looked so remarkably like her mother at the same age. Nobility was at the mercy of the Red Revolution.

Jonas came for his turn. The fifty-something fisher soldier licked Tamara's face with lewd tongue strokes, giving her full leisure to see how wrinkled his leather face really was, filling her with repulsion and fathomless dread as he proceeded to suck her snow-white breasts while the others looked at the grotesque farce with fascination and Tamara filled the air with screams of horror as she felt surprisingly aroused by this old man giving his slobbering tribute to her tits.

"Get her down on her hands and knees, boys, and lemme show you how it's done!" Jonas bellowed.

Seconds later, Tamara was firmly restrained on all fours and surrounded with oohs and aahs as the Lithuanians were positively shocked by the sight of her unwillingly offered butt. So white and pure!

"So this is what a noble maiden looks like without her dress!" Linas ejaculated.

All their cocks got hard, really hard, like old Siberian spruce trunks, as they all silently agreed she was going to have all the rest of them in this same butt-loving position.

In a scene that was beyond unthinkable, time came to a stop as old Jonas knelt and stooped down, using both hands to take hold of Tamara's juicy buttocks and marring her pure-white skin with the disgrace of his slobbering kisses as he began to passionately lick her maiden's buttocks. They were slim, a bit boyish, and yet Tamara had gentle curves that even looked wide against her thin waist. The onlookers produced their cocks and began to masturbate as they watched how Jonas was running his hands over the graceful contours of Tamara's butt, now and then caressing her legs, always returning to her fattier curves with renewed passion as he kissed, kissed and kissed her noble butt! His hands were holding something much different from his usual fishing rod. Tamara was in tears, unable to speak as she dreaded the horror that came next.

It happened. Impossible, and yet it did happen. Jonas pushed down his filthy trousers, his bad body smell reaching her delicate nostrils even in this position, due to the breeze turning to an evil direction. Tamara felt his hands on top of her, right on the upper part of her butt, and she dreaded his cock. Amid the deafening whistles and jeers, Jonas got hard from masturbating over her butt and then yes! No! He penetrated her, straining a bit at her tight entrance, but then passing it with force!

"AAAAAAAAAA YYEAAAAHHH! Pretty girl! Pretty treasure! HUH HRR HRR HRRR HRRR HRRRRR HRR HRRH HRR..."

"Jonas! Let's go Jonas! Give her a big load!" Herkus shouted as he masturbated, fondly remembering his own relief inside her and eager to rape Tamara again, this time from behind. They had her for the whole night and he was going to give her as many loads as he humanly could. Tamara was in for a life-altering night.

The rape from Jonas was horribly prolonged since the older man needed a lot of time to reach his concluding statement. Grunting like a rutting boar, old Jonas kept his hands on her wonderfully pale buttocks and bucked her in a steady rhythm, much less hard than the two previous men, and Tamara nearly thanked him in her thoughts for being gentler. She was hit by how erotic all this felt as her body was now in a fully aroused state, lowering the pain and even replacing it with hot waves of sensations that were new to her.

Tamara was forced to moan, her soul violated by her own body as Jonas kept relentlessly raping her. It was like when she masturbated, but feeling different, but not in an entirely bad way. She felt his strokes inside her. She felt, through his hands on her, how ungodly horny he was. The old man must not have had any girl her age in a great many long years! She understood why he was doing this. He had the opportunity and took it. Tamara was shocked by how pretty men actually thought she was.

Lithuanians laughed as they heard her moans, while they kept masturbating to keep their state of birch-hard branches. Tamara looked at them and noticed the different shapes and lengths of their things. Most had a cock about five or six inches, but a couple of them had a really large one, both thick and long. She suddenly understood why two of them kept their cock inside their trousers; those were the small-endowed men. They were content with stroking the front of their trousers.

At length, Jonas felt the happy surge and neared his point of no return. Oh, God! He loved this! He enjoyed Tamara's vagina in silence, and then increased his pace as his cock got fully hard, finally! And with loud screams of victory, his hands always worshiping Tamara's gracefully white buttocks, the old man came with a roar! Crying tears of joy.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHRRR AAAHR AHAA AAAAAAAAHRRRR!!! oooooooohh..."

"Small girl, big load!" Herkus yelled.

"Small girl, big load!" the Corporal added, masturbating as well.

And the Lithuanians all began to chant, "Small girl, big load! Small girl, big load!"

Indeed, Jonas had ejaculated with a huge load, an incredibly huge load, inside the graceful dievushka. She was so lovely with her pretty legs and feet, nude on deck amid the lewd guards who kept her warm, so beautiful with her long strands of black hair! Noble strands of raven hair that played with the lanterns' golden light.

The next man was none other than the stout bearded musician by the name of Lukas. He flipped Tamara and as she lay on her back, confused and exhausted, he gave her breasts a new bout of beard-brushing sucking.

Tamara felt less horrified, surprisingly so. Something inside her had broken. She felt much less inhibition. She felt all funny inside as the bearded man kept grossly slobbering her tits. She wondered what he could be thinking about when doing this. She even felt a tiny touch of curiosity to see what his cock looked like. Was it going to be just as thick and stout as the man himself? She felt his massive weight upon her, and this gave her a feeling of being completely dominated as she realized that being passed around all those men made her aroused against her will. She hated herself for feeling this! But it was the unpleasant truth.

Lukas was actually confused. He had a daughter the same age as this lovely little swan, and yet this Czarist daughter deserved what was happening to her. But this wasn't the true reason he was defiling her. His real reason was simpler. Lust. Like the vast majority of older men, Lukas had remained the same young man inside when it came to girls. The sight of a pretty girl had the same effect in him as if he were still twenty. Sucking Tamara's tits made him just as hard as if he were the same age as her. Almost as hard, he had to admit with his usual modesty.

He then laid himself on his side, at a right angle from the naked maiden, holding her waist where her bent legs were resting on his heavy frame while her butt was nearly touching his lap. Only one man was now holding her arms above the graceful flow of her hair, raven, just as he liked a girl! Lukas never went for a blonde, and the darker, the merrier. The girl was no longer resisting. As he contemplated the visual heaven of Tamara's legs and feet, her nakedness filling him with elation, Lukas knew he was going to spew a royally big load inside her! He took his massively large shaft and gently penetrated her, taking care not hurting her. He had no evil in him, he just wanted to spew a big load inside her. Wanted to know what it was like to fuck the daughter of a Baron.

Lukas began to rape Tamara, on his side, holding her by the waist at full length of his arms, his upper hand on her firm navel area, his lower hand loving the taut small of her back as the petite girl got gently rocked and her legs remained bent on top of him, offering the magic of her feet for all to see, where her delicate heels often brushed or tapped on his bare skin as he raped her with his trousers down to his knees. The grace of her legs and feet, and that lovely tiny spot where her small toe completed the spell of her feet and ankles was the most profound reason peasants harvested grain at the end of summer. Deep down, they all wanted to sack the castle and fuck the lord's daughters.

He began to rape her harder, loving the music of her voice as she whimpered, especially when the soldier holding her arms reached for and played with her gently moving tits. When the soldier wasn't doing this, Lukas enjoyed a priceless side-way view on Tamara's tits, jiggling in their youth-filled grace, and his experienced eyes noticed they were swollen with pleasure, thus giving a bit more height to her small brown nipples, ever so softly dancing atop her baby-fat knolls under the lantern light, as her bosom was at last freely breathing while Lukas kept giving her the overwhelming pressure from his large girth that rendered the dievushka unable to stop the growing fire inside her.

She looked at her rapist; their eyes met. Lukas looked away in embarrassment as he kept plowing her vagina, thinking of his own daughter and feeling guilty, feeling worried that his daughter could one day find herself amid such a press of lewd soldiers and meet the same fate as Tamara, if the Red Army came deep enough in Lithuania; and the irony was, he was himself fighting for the Red Army and thus contributing to increase the risk for his beloved Marija. Tamara knew why he was raping her. Lust. He was ugly, but his cock filled her with warmth that bizarrely comforted her. He had the warm hands of a father. She was in such a mad confused state!

Tamara began to moan in peculiar high-pitched sounds as Lukas went at it harder and rougher, giving her a strong impetus. She looked even prettier with her face bobbing more violently. Her dancing tits were a journey to watch. He loved how her brown nipples danced faster and faster as he used her with increasing violence and constantly remembered when she passed him by without the slightest glance at him whenever he was on guard duty, and now... Now!

Now everything was turned upside down. The old ugly commoner, panting and slobbering while fucking a Baron's daughter. Her body responded on its own. Tamara was tightly moving herself in a way that helped her meet the stout man and his healthy cock, so she could make her own rape less unpleasant. He kept pounding her with all the force in his huge buttocks! She moaned and was made fun of by the masturbating onlookers.

He pounded her with the utmost satisfaction as she whimpered like a dirty little whore. What a lovely voice she had! The world was toppled. And it was so much fun to rape their now-defenseless daughters!

Lukas imposed his wide black beard upon Tamara's gaze as she couldn't keep from looking at him while he pounded her vagina with zeal, grunting and making her look even prettier by contrast against his gross figure, her pretty face bobbing on the ship's deck amid her moaning disarray, under torches and lanterns as she kept looking at him with her eyebrows so incredibly delicate!

Panting and never relenting in his barrage of thrusts, he flipped her on her side with her face looking away, with her buttocks facing him, then he took her hips and gave her a wild ride as she let herself be fucked deep and hard, panting and moaning like a bitch as he forced her small body to crash against him in urgently repeated collisions. Her dievushka's buttocks hypnotized him as she moaned ever louder and higher in her lovely pitch!

Something weird happened all at once inside her. Lukas felt it. He accelerated the pace of his heavy strokes and gave her no chance to escape the shame. Tamara exploded in a flurry of high-pitched screams, and even the other man's grip on her wrists amplified this explosion of shameful bliss inside her, as she cursed herself in Russian and tightened her legs and even curled her feet, surrendering to the unstoppable orgasm. Tamara was forced to open her mouth and scream out her unwilling orgasm, her first one ever with a man.

The forced bliss lingered as the stout man kept pounding her with all he had! His grunts got married with her frantic moans as she got hit by another orgasm, an aftershock tempest that obliterated any surviving ruins of her former morality. Tamara felt weightless, and caught herself almost loving the fatherly hands on her waist while the stout musician kept pounding her, her butt ever-striking his large lap. She forgot where she was and kept moaning as she was in hell and heaven at the very same time. It was horrific, yet insanely erotic. She had read similar rape scenes in tales of Germanic knights, but nothing of what she had read came close to this life-altering heat!

Her father watched her daughter's ultimate surrender. He heard it in horror, silent and powerless in his Lithuanian bondage, his nose broken and one eye swollen shut. He felt aroused as he watched his beloved Tamara, nude, raped amid the evil Lithuanians, her butt kept bouncing against the large accordionist in a tumult of girly flesh!

Tamara lay on her side, the large Lithuanian inside her, now spooned by the stout man who plowed her deep and gave her the full benefit of his long-lasting erection as she begged him to please stop.

"Noo! No, please! I'm... exhausted... Haa AAAAAA AA AAAAAAA AAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAIII AAAA AAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAA NNIET! aAAA AAAAH AAAAAAAAAAAA..." Tamara moaned, unable to repress the build-up of a third burst of girly heat as she got totally fucked by this bear of a man!

"Yes! Yes yes yes yes! Her butt! I love her butt! I fuck! We fuck all their women! The little tramp's gonna get a big one!" the pig-sweating musician groaned as he kept pounding her with unrestrained rage and satisfaction!

Tamara's ever-colliding buttocks, as white as the Czarist flag, summarized the entire Revolution, where presses of unwashed peasants were able to undress and violate the finest of Russian nobility, with impunity.

Lukas let out one heck of a long-winded growl as he finally spewed his load! A beast of a load! Losing frothing slobber, enthralled by her pristine buttocks and her small butt-crack, Lukas kept plowing her as long as he could while he powerfully erupted with urgent bolts of sperm. He filled her up, struck by the thunder of his own bolts as he ran his hands around her contours, while she cried in tears amid moans she was no longer able to repress, and he kept plowing her until the pleasure got so intense it became painful and he had to stop.

While the deflowered maiden was panting and trying to make any sense of the madness going on inside and around her, while several other gang rapes were happening on deck, Lukas rolled Tamara on her back and he pressed her tits in his hammy hands and he licked! Licked those tiny brown nipples, learned again what her small areolas tasted like, and licked on! Enjoyed the pristine baby fat that yielded so softly under his pressing tongue! Someone poured vodka and he licked it off, enjoying the strong liquor mixed with girly sweat and his own slobber. The vodka ruled over all other tastes, but knowing he was licking the breasts of a beautiful little Baroness was all he needed to make it something he'd never forget. Neither would she. The dievushka was more troubled than ever. She no longer knew who she was.

***

Then her father watched on as the rest of the pack took their turns inside Tamara. Two thirds liked her best on all fours, loved to keep flattening her angel's butt against them until they were forced to yell or grunt their finale, usually making very guttural sounds as they expressed the unfathomable bliss of filling up Tamara with Lithuanian sperm. Some tried her with her legs propped up and pinned under their arms as she got pounded with her feet pointing straight at the moon. Her face was now covered with their sweat and slobber as she took two men in succession in this feet-up position. The angle of their robust invasion once more forced her into a punishment that morphed into a moaning crescendo that led to a full-blown climax. Raping Tamara was so much fun! She was a crowd favourite, a questionable distinction.

A man shouted a victory cry as he burst inside her just when her body became a sweating vessel of girly bliss. Forced. She now realized her father was watching and she hated it even more than she hated her rapists. Why didn't he fight to his death? He would have got killed as the Lithuanians were far too many, but his death would have saved his honour. She would have liked it better to get gang-raped over her father's dead body rather than being raped while he watched. If he had to watch, then let him be a fatherly ghost like the father in Hamlet!

The last Lithuanian to rape her was the handsome one called Benas. He was used to having sex with such pretty damsels, so he tried something new. He sodomized her. Tamara, her knees really hurting against the hard deck, was supporting her tired little frame on her elbows, causing her butt to protrude and help making her rapists hard again. She didn't expect what hit her. He penetrated her the way God intended, but then, after a few strokes, he pulled out and... pushed against her anus!

"Niet?! NIET!!!" Tamara screamed in panic as she felt the pain while he strained and pushed hard, then even harder! Benas had the largest cock she had previously noticed. She shrieked as Benas vanquished the resistance and forced her sphincter open and began to pound her rectum, his hands on her butt arousing her body from the knowledge he had such a handsome face, while his granite-hard cock gave her penetrative hell as he seemed determined to reach as far as her lower intestines!

Tamara shrieked her life out, feeling she was being sodomized using a beam, while the Lithuanians cheered loudly and someone poured vodka on her protruding buttocks, giving a nice shimmer to her pale skin under the glowing lanterns, then poured some on her head, perfuming her satin-black hair and filling her nostrils with effluvia from the cheap liquor; a far cry from the fine wine she was used to have until last year's red October.

Her father was watching, his erection hard under his trousers. She looked so much like her gone mother! She even sounded like her during sex. The Baron used to sodomize his wife, often and with glee. In his most evil thoughts, he had fought devils trying to recruit him into deflowering his daughter, both vaginally and anally. His high morals had prevailed. Until now.

Tamara only stopped screaming once Benas had filled her lower intestines with his peasant's semen, forcing her noble shit to meet his humble swimmers. Benas was pleased with how big his load was. Perhaps her shit was outnumbered and gang-raped by his semen. He had given her so many little soldiers!

"Small girl, big load!" Benas shouted for all to hear as he slapped her ass and got back up after wiping his filthy cock on the soft skin of said buttocks. A sailor got down on his knees and as he took hold of her waist, Tamara knew this was a sailor as she winced from the pain. Only a sailor had such titanic strength in his hands.

Indeed, the sailors from the ship's crew had joined the fun. They had spotted Tamara from the moment she boarded the steamer. Four well-built crewmen had patiently waited their turns to kill her virtue, and the Corporal kindly let them have Tamara.

"You'll see, small girl, big load!" the moustached Corporal shouted at the sailors, the first of whom knelt behind Tamara and proceeded to rape her doggy-style with unrestrained abandon, until he exploded and left the spot for the next sailor, a man with a long rectangular face, a strong squared jaw with eyebrows that looked like small forests of bushy black hair. He was very tall and looked like a hairy version of Frankenstein. Tamara had looked behind her, perhaps hoping the sailor would be a handsome one, but she screamed in horror as he grabbed her sore waist, causing her to yelp in pain as he began to pound her without mercy, his legs spread wider to accommodate his height and fit inside her.

The Frankenstein-ish sailor enjoyed her tight paradise until he looked up at the night sky and let out a huge primal scream and gave tribute to Tamara with a massive load. He felt a bit guilty for doing this to a girl already exhausted, but it felt so liberating to ejaculate inside one of these damsels that used to strut around the deck without noticing he existed. So liberating to relieve himself inside such a fine dievushka!

The last pair of sailors were as ugly as they came. Both unkempt, both Russian. One took her from behind as she begged him to please at least let her stand, as her knees were killing her. The kind sailor pulled her up and there she was, feeling the deck under her bare feet, naked and bent over as the kind sailor introduced himself and gave a social call to her vagina, holding the crease of her hips as he raped her with increasing force, while the other sailor held her shoulders and compelled her to take the full brunt of this bent-over abuse. This fourth sailor was one she had noticed last afternoon as one who had disgustingly dark teeth when he attempted to smile at her and said his name was Grigory. Why did he have the nerve to have the same first name as her father? Her father was twice the sailor's age, but an Adonis of beauty in comparison.

While she was being raped from behind and restrained amid the pack of jeering Lithuanians, who eagerly waited for their second round inside her, Tamara found herself face to cock with the sordid monstrosity that Grigory produced out of his disgusting trousers that had clearly not been washed in two weeks. The sailor smiled with his foul teeth as he presented her a hard erection that looked painfully large and horrific with plenty of smegma around its uncut head. The smell raped her nostrils even deeper than the sailor behind her raped her pussy, his hands holding the crease of her hips and forcing the small girl in a frenzied dance while the other man, Grigory, pulled her hair and ordered her to open her mouth and added a threat on her father's life if she even thought of biting!

Grigory then penetrated her mouth as soon as she opened it. The taste was brutally revolting; vile would be a version of it with sugar and cognac. With tears flooding her cheeks, her hair constantly pulled and her jaw painfully pinched by the vile sailor's hand, Tamara was given to enjoy the barbaric rape from the sailor behind her, and the abysmal taste of Grigory as he began to rape her face amid the increasingly loud wall of cheers and catcalls. Someone poured more vodka on her head. Tamara felt like vomiting, but she fought it out of pride. This was no place for pride. Here, pain and shame lived insanely close to pleasure.

"That's the way, boys! Teach her the Bolshevik principles! Death to imperialism! She's a citizen now!" the Corporal yelled as he watched Tamara being spit-roasted. Not sure about what he liked the most between her being bucked from behind or her pretty face with her mouth filled by the other sailor, who used her head like a ball only meant for sexual enjoyment.

"Citizen of the cock!" added Linas as he drank vodka out of the bottle.

"Priestess of the cock!" corrected Herkus, who then added, "There's still too much religion in her. We need to shake it out of her! Shake her up! All night long! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

"Not so proud now, Milady!"

Tamara's face was a song to behold, so angel-beautiful, yet so debased with Grigory's brutal size giving an odd shape to her left cheek while her graceful nakedness was raped every second by the small army of male gazes in addition to the non-stop tapping of her imperially white buttocks. With her father watching, and he did so shamelessly now as he got filled with insane lust, not just from watching Tamara, but also from witnessing the gang-rape of Countess Hendrikoff along with the three or four prettiest maids, one of whom he knew was only fourteen. She was the one who screamed the loudest.

The sailor banging Tamara's butt with flattening fury suddenly stood ramrod straight and was hit by such a victorious seizure that he plopped out of her and covered her taut buttocks with his hot Russian borscht, giving her the glossy coat he knew she deserved as a dirty little Czarist tramp. Her father went nuts, both enraged and horny at the sight of this man of low birth spewing his generous load on the pristine derrière of his daughter! He was a Baron from a house dating as far back as the Crusades! This had no right to happen!

"Small girl, big load!" someone shouted. "Small girl, big load!"

"Small girl, big load!"

"Small girl, big load!"

Grigory pulled out of Tamara's mouth and and yelled, "This is how we punish her! HRrrnnngghh!!!" as he burst like a geyser! He coated the entire left side of her lovely face with his vile-smelling sludge that stuck to her skin, some dollops reaching the wonderful blackness of her hair. "Take this, imperialist dievushka!" he added as he wiped his disgusting cock using her hair. "And get used to this! You're a whore for us now!"

Jonas the old fisher soldier poured vodka on Tamara's taut butt and used the liquor to clean the pooled sperm that smeared her. The old man couldn't get enough of Tamara's bottom! "Now, pretty girl, now Milady, this is nice and proper for our noble Baroness!" he said, his voice loaded with a bastardized version of fatherly affection as he spread the mix of semen and vodka all over her pristine curves, lost in deep fascination as he felt the kind of soft firmness that was only found on a true maiden.

"Yes, Milady," Jonas added. "I love your butt! I love to say this to you! I always look at it whenever you walk past me! Yes, fine and proper!" he kept saying as he poured some more vodka on her curves, wishing his cock would get hard again as he kept rubbing her buttocks, wishing the moment would never end. Jonas poured the rest of the vodka and licked this paradise of a bottom, putting all his lost years of loneliness into this act of pure erotic passion; he licked Tamara's virginal curves while caressing her legs with a passion no young man could begin to understand.

Then came the moustached Corporal, his cock stiff and ready again. He grabbed Tamara, he penetrated her with just some straining, then he stooped down over her and grabbed her breasts and felt their firm youth, loving the gentle feel of her small nipples in his hands as he began to copulate while pressing himself against the whimpering dievushka, like a dog breeding a bitch. Linas made sure she remained bent over by holding her wrists and her little balled fists in front of her, while Herkus mocked her and called her a "lovely little imperialist tramp" while he held her hair and slapped her sperm-smeared face with his seven-inch erection. She made quite a bitter expression as she closed her eyes and Herkus's cock met her delicate eyebrows and the smallness of her nose along with the porcelain grace of her rosy-flushed cheeks.

Her father became insane with lust while filled with a rage that could only be conjectured as he watched the animalistic breeding as the moustached Corporal mounted her while holding her tits, the show complete with the red star on his garrison cap and Tamara's whimpers, while other soldiers held her in place and further debased her.

"Don't worry, Milady," Jonas said to the face-twisted girl as she suffered under the abuse, "Don't worry, lovely dievushka, we're gonna go easy on you, because you understand Lithuanian."

***

Ivan had followed the gone-wild Lithuanians as they rushed downstairs and to the cabins were the retinue were staying. They brutalized the men, even beat up General Tatischev as they demanded to know where was the Countess, where was the Baron's daughter and where the young maids were staying. They spread their violence door to door, a girl in distressed panic as she got grabbed and carried away. Ivan recognized Tamara as they carried her upstairs; they laughed at her pathetic attempts to free herself as she remained silent, her eyes screaming in fright. As their gazes met, Ivan pitied her while also loving what he saw and relishing the prospect of seeing such a dievushka naked on deck. Her eyes were imploring him in the brief instant they met, then she was carried away in a gross press of men.

The younger maids all shrieked in horror as the Lithuanians found them in the largest cabin. All four were judged pretty enough and carried away like pieces of fuck meat. The brigands laughed at their frantic cries for help. Then they found the Countess where she was staying with Claire her old maid, who was grabbed by the shoulders and shaken before a soldier ripped her gown open and gained the visual enjoyment of her small breasts.

Ivan was close enough to hear the Countess and her indignant, terrified protests when the drunkards seized her and dragged her out of her cabin, while three soldiers stayed with Claire in the cabin, and soon, Ivan heard her loud frantic protests in French as the Lithuanians slapped her into submission.

Lieutenant Malinovski was there too, his face ghastly pale while Sergeant Kürschner kept telling him he had nothing to fear, that this was what soldiers did in wartime, and it was going to be so much fun! To rape her again, then watch as a horde of Lithuanians would take their liberties with her person.

The cabins had been invaded by the Lithuanians! Screams of shock and horror had exploded left and right. The Countess had just fallen asleep when soldiers slammed the door open. There was a reason why the Kommissar had confiscated all the keys and no door was locked. Countess Hendrikoff woke up and she looked all around her with terror settling in her eyes after her initial surprise, as they grabbed her and lifted her off the bed, sheets and all and she tried to scream, but no sound came out as they carried her into the hallway. Claire her maid tried to interfere, but got brutalized by soldiers who decided that raping an older woman who looked thin and firm enough would be fun.

The Countess's eyes met Ivan's as the lewd, jeering Lithuanians carried her upstairs and on deck.

She died upon seeing Ivan did nothing to stop them. Ivan looked down, avoiding her gaze as she floated in their lewd arms, feeling invading hands upon her naked legs under her nightgown. As they took her on deck and she felt the cool of the evening on her face, the Countess mentally braced herself! She knew all too well what was going to happen at the hands of those awful men. But this wasn't even the worst. The man she loved wasn't lifting a finger to protect her! Ivan was no knight. Hendrikoff broke down in tears and she was frantically sobbing with grief as her love for Ivan died.

Then some large brigand with a thick red beard and a repulsive face forced-kissed her! His breath stank. This was an abomination! A storm of foreign-speaking voices imprisoned her.

"Milady Countess is going to love this!" a Lithuanian said.

"At last! We're gonna fuck her!" another said.

"Nooo! No please lemme go! No! I'm virgin! Please..." one of the young maids said, in Russian, as she was also being carried on deck where the stars and the gibbous moon would witness her brutal deflowering.

Sounds of sharp ripping fabric filled the air along with the men's jeers and catcalls and whistles. The beautiful maid was soon in the nude amid the uniformed Lithuanians, all of them grinning with evil joy. She could hear the same happening to her fellow maids. One had large breasts even though she looked really young. Another had a lovely patch of golden hair down there, hair that matched her long braided hair; she looked like the beautiful daughter of a lord whose castle had fallen and she was now unceremoniously stripped naked by the jeering enemy.

The fourth was perhaps the prettiest of all, at least for men who loved petite girls; she had warm brown hair, almost chestnut, but a shade darker, that gracefully reached down to the small of her back. Her fairy's feet were so dainty it could nearly cause a man with such tastes to ejaculate on the spot! The smallness of her ankles was like the rest of her. The Lithuanians let out wows of pure fascination as they gleefully ripped her nightgown and let her naked body breathe some evening air under the glowing torches and lanterns. She was about four feet ten tall with tits that screamed her virginity. She looked fourteen, with such blossoming softness of her perky breasts. The Lithuanians didn't care about her age. They only cared about touching her everywhere and filling her with sperm. If she had tits and hair on her cunt, then she was old enough to be gang-raped. Their state of madness abolished any decency in them. The poor girl was amid a pack of frienzed savages who only had one thought.

The little maid was bent over and a first Lithuanian, a Corporal, pulled down his trousers and brutally strained against her entrance as the girl filled the air with a deafening shriek! He tried to rape her unprepared, and half succeeded as he gained precious little inches inside her. After the enjoyment of disrobing her, the animal was nuts and only thought of deflowering her. He kept straining, giving away some ground, only to charge back as the girl kept shrieking, and he won a bit more distance with each ram, just like soldiers attacking a castle and using a battering ram to beat down the door. And then something yielded inside the virgin and the Lithuanian Corporal, all thirty years of him, penetrated her all the way to the hilt!

He screamed like a madman as he began to rape the shrieking girl like a frenzied baboon, grunting like one as he felt how insanely tight she was! Her small butt colliding in repeat tapping strokes against him as he accelerated his pace, raping her as deep and hard as he could until he exploded and dumped an insane amount of jism inside the hurt girl, who now kept calling her mom. More men followed suit as they formed a small line-up and the girl was kept whimpering, her wrists restrained, each man ordering her to stay on her feet as he ravished her from behind, some lifting her up all the way since she was so small, and then her feet hoovered off the deck in an unwilling show if young sensuality as the sobbing girl kept calling her mom. Some even pulled her hair and used it for leverage, forcing her to arch her back and look up as she was baptized with sperm and brutally introduced to her life as a woman.

"Niet! Niieeeet!!!" another maid shrieked amid the Lithuanians and their crazy lust-filled hands and gazes. It was the blonde girl, her long golden braids a poetry of lost sensuality amid their lewdness as their ripping hands uncovered her sudden nakedness and whistled upon seeing her figure. Her legs and hips were revealed and covered by the forest of hands while she arched her back and shrieked as if a red-hot poker was branding her and her pushed-out breasts made them even hornier as she kept shaking her head and wriggling in their grip with her little fists closed in a firm gesture of terrified anger and refusal, while her tits disappeared under the forest of hands. "Nieeet! Prekratiite! Prekatii-te ahhaaa haaa NIEEET-AAAAAAH AAAAAA AAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAA... RHHAAAAA AAAAAAAAA AAA AAA AAAAAAaaaaaaa niet!"

Someone said her carpet matched her braids. Others made fun of her shrieks.

Ivan stood by and witnessed this, the death of her future as a honest girl. His eyes got a glance of her pubic hair and its golden spell began to morph him into something else, something like the rest of those men. Brigands in uniform, the fruit of a new despicable regime that pretended to build a better world. The deck was now filled with shrill screams as none of the chosen girls was spared the common fate of being defiled on deck. He saw the doctor's young wife whose breasts sprung into visual fun as they ripped her nightgown open and laughed at her frantic shrieks as she called her husband's name. Sailors were there too. He understood them; if he were them, he wouldn't want to miss this for all the tea in China. And it was just as barbaric as if he and all the other rapists were indeed Chinese or Mongols.

"Ivan! Ivan my serving knight! Please save me!" Countess Hendrikoff finally managed to say amid the press of Lithuanians while two Corporals were busy sucking her tits and making her feel the peasantry of their pressing mouths as their tongues got promoted into something fleetingly noble as they circled around her nipples and tasted the tips of her breasts, bathing them in slobbering peasantry while other men ripped the rest of her nightgown off her.

"NO! NOOOOO!!! Stop this! I'm Countess Olga Hendrikoff! I forbid you! I forbid it! Stop I say!" But her words met deaf ears, as only Ivan, the young officer and the Sergeant leading them spoke fluent Russian.

Their eyes lit up like furnaces of lust as they saw how graceful she was in the nude, standing almost like an antique statue in their midst as they ran their gross hands over her figure, unable to believe how soft her long hair really was, as it floated loose and fell on her naked shoulders, shimmering with life under the primitive torches that stood in majority where she was meeting her fate on deck.

They whistled upon learning the true shape of her pubic carpet, a long triangle of lush velvety hair that of course matched the dark brown of her hair. All of her figure became a sensual fallen beauty of bright skin in this deep golden fire light, where her bare feet seemed to dance to some timeless song as the lone Countess kept trying to break free. "Ivan! IVAN!!! Help me! For the love of God! Help me!!! Aaaaahh naaoooo! I hate you!"

All the Lithuanians holding and groping the nude Countess looked at Ivan, silently inviting him to be the first man as was required by the unwritten tradition. Ivan knew what he had to do and it killed him and damned his soul. He hated what the Red Army was turning him into. He had no erection and no heart for the task. Like an automaton, he walked to her and avoided her gaze as he plunged on her breasts while the stout red-haired man moved away. Countess Hendrikoff was beyond shocked. She exploded in a series of urgent rhetorics as her breasts fell prey to Ivan's military task. How could he! How could he do this to her!

"Ivan! Stop this! Nooo, save me! You're a knight, you can't do this no! You can't be like this no noo nooo, Ivan!!! Ivan! No! You cannot do this! You must save me! S-save me! AAAAA AAAAAAAAAA NNOO NO PLEASE!!!"

The soldiers who knew some Russian laughed their heads out while restraining the Countess, whose breasts were slobbered by the Bolshevik Captain. They all had a hard-on with a great show to watch as the deck became an open-sky orgy where serving maids and a Baroness who had served as a young lady-in-waiting to the Czar's sister-in-law were presently naked and violently defiled on deck as the first wave of men urgently pierced the painful shattering of their honour, making them something else as they wailed and squealed their life out amid this forest of lewd Lithuanians.

Sidorov was now kissing the navel of the Countess, feeling her forced arousal as she kept pitifully crying out in her vain rhetoric. Lieutenant Petia Malinovski didn't dare look at her, although he had a solid erection pushing his trousers, while Kürschner grinned and looked directly in her eyes, watching the growing void in them as Ivan had returned to her breasts and was now pressing them in his hands with more passion. Ivan got lost in those tits that belonged to a Countess as he remembered that the Whites would never allow him to touch a woman of such rank.

Maybe he'd rebel and turn against the Red Army, but not now. Now he was going to fuck some noble pussy!

Countess Hendrikoff became more and more aroused, against her will. She felt Ivan's touch as he kissed his way down to the south of her hips, while her naked bosom became prey and lust fodder for the uniformed peasants restraining her. She hated this! And yet there was something powerfully erotic in the fact her breasts were getting defiled by those illiterate peasants. Someone poured vodka on her bosom! Hendrikoff screamed, "Noooo!" and her scream made her hornier deep down as she felt Ivan's kisses on her cunt where he held her writhing hips. She sensed how much he loved her curves and adored her cunt hair; he had told her so two days before. Why was his touch so strong?! Being used like this was so insanely humiliating! And she was wet. Some insane devil within her was trying to make her tell all those men that she was ready to be fucked.

Ivan felt her horny disarray, through the wriggling of her hips as he began to stroke his tongue inside this woman he was still in love with, albeit to a lesser degree than his wife or Nastya, whom his soul worshiped like a holy relic. He took a couple more kisses on her lush plate of hair and took one long lick, tasting the raw perfume of the Countess's cunt before standing tall and yelling, "Higher rank goes first!"

All hands cheered! "Buck-a-roo! Buck-a-roo!" the Lithuanians began to chant in their loud, depraved voices while screaming girls were being gang-raped left and right.

"Buck-a-roo! Buck-a-roo!" "Buck-a-roo! Buck-a-roo!" "Buck-a-roo! Buck-a-roo!"

The Red Captain unbuttoned his trousers and freed a wicked erection, the sight and presence of which drove more juices inside Hendrikoff as she felt her breasts gently swell under the rough soldierly hands. She knew she was going to get gang-raped whether she liked it or not. She was about to learn the difference between being raped by two men vs. gang-raped by a whole mob. With Ivan going first while still wearing his peak-cap.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH AAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRHHH!" Ivan uttered as the official statement saying he was now inside her.

He lost no time and began to pound her as he took hold of her waist and the others held all her limbs and forced her to endure the pounding while floating amid them as the sensual X of a young Countess whose honour was being obliterated as her pretty head of loose hair bobbed amid their vodka-reeking lewdness. Those beards and faces, ugly or handsome, became a loud cheering blur around her as she felt her rapist deep inside her.

Ivan kept sweeping her pussy, forcing her body into waves of brutal pleasure as those hands perpetually kneading her tits were now less terrifying and grew more into something that filled her with shame and caused her to grow wetter where the lover who betrayed her was raping her with force. Her mind built a fantasy and imposed it upon her; a fantasy where the knight supposed to protect her turned against her and raped her, before leaving her as fodder for his men. She was in for such an ordeal. She knew it was going to last the whole night through. Her heart turned to water, but as Ivan kept relentlessly pounding her and she felt his gaze on her and her jiggling tits, the devil haunting her forced her to hope he was going to rape her again later, and then again in the dead of night.

"Now, Milady! Now!" the Captain uttered, beside himself with lust as he pounded the Countess and finally looked at her. "Now, now! Uuhhrr uuh uhhh at your service, Milady! I love your tits! Aaahhh! Sorry sorry! I must aaahh yeah! I must... My wife... Please aahh! Underst-and... Aaah this is so good!"

The Lithuanians cheered him on. "Buck-a-roo! Buck-a-roo! Buck-a-roo!" they chanted on as he took a brutal round of unrestrained pleasure inside the head-bobbing Countess whose soft-white breasts and brownish nipples were lost in a tumult from his own strokes, a play of heavenly pale skin under a forest of lewd hands and constantly kept wet with vodka that some men managed to lick off them. Her face was a lost paradise where her beauty was intensified by the tears rolling down her cheeks; her eyes a lovely gaze that was never as intense as they were now, a mix of terror and shame and a woman's forced-open modesty under torches that gave fantastic shadows to the hypnotizing dance of her breasts.

The nipples each inside a peasant's mouth. The fat man's red beard brushing her heated skin as he kept worshiping her legs and feet while she kept clutching her little fists where her wrists were being painfully restrained; all this with the ramming strokes from Ivan. Ivan had gone crazy and he now pounded her as if his life depended on how hard he did her. He screamed and shook all over, from head to toe. He shook so hard in this shamanic trance that his peak-cap fell on the deck as he let out the primal scream of a man shocked by the biblical size of the load he was now spewing inside the raped Countess!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! OOOOOOOOOOOhh..."

Hendrikoff heard him and this pushed her near her edge. He was already gone. They were passing her around. "Let's go, Petia! Give it to her good and hard!" This was Kurschner encouraging Petia! The same two men who had raped her in her bedroom! The peasants from the village ruled by her husband before the Revolution; and now they were using their newfound power to fulfill their fantasies about her. And Ivan... He was on their side! He had been with them all along! She felt hopelessly alone in the world as the soldiers, always jeering and whistling and catcalling, moved her around and bent her over.

Then came the predictable pair of hands on her hips. Petia. She knew his touch when his hands landed on her and seemed to study the contour of her buttocks. "Whou-ouh-ouh-ouh ouuhhh!" uttered someone in some sort of a whooping trance. Some soldiers near her were masturbating. Some young maid she knew was naked on all fours with a soldier raping her from behind while another held her in place and all she could do was cry and sob as she was violated and someone poured vodka on her head.

Then Petia growled and she felt the punch of his erection inside her. Much less force than Ivan. Her inner devil forced her to admit she was sickeningly disappointed.

All those hands on her, someone holding her wrists in front of her while Petia began to rape her with grunts, from behind where she stood. Why keep resisting? Pointless! She didn't want to let herself sink on her knees, for this was a deck of hard wood and she'd rather take the rapes standing. The nearby maid being raped on her hands and knees kept yelping in pain.

The Countess took the rape bent over. Her legs gave a solid reason for the brigands to stay hard. Someone was down there caressing her ankles, while Petia's repeated strokes inside her felt weirdly comfortable as she moved herself along with these strokes, to make the horror more bearable. The horror of being raped by Patia was far more emotional than physical; Petia was still a boy who didn't know how to go rough on a woman. Hands on her hanging tits... Touches of heat all over her backside. Someone saying she was a good fuck, in St Petersburg Russian. Ivan?! Nooo! Noooo! And then she felt the deck under her feet so intensely! Every inch of her became an inch of blissful slavery in their hands as she moaned in muffled sounds against a cock now filling her mouth. She became weightless and her legs would have collapsed under her if no man had been there to keep her standing. Their hands and their lust-filled jeers fed her orgasm as it swept through her and devoured whatever survived of her nobility. Their collective lust, and Ivan saying she was a good fuck, made a whore out of her and forced her to enjoy her gang-rape like a cheap trollop.

She was hit by the orgasm with Petia inside her where he held her waist and enjoyed the sight of her bottom, and while a Lithuanian violated her face! She was filth! A trollop indeed. The Lithuanian spewed his load and kept her mouth shut while he exploded inside her and thus forced her to swallow his jism. Then an aftershock stick of dynamite of fuck sensuality detonated within her and she went through another horrific bout of humiliation as she climaxed again from Petia's relentless strokes while she got her first taste of Lithuanian sperm. The taste was surprisingly tolerable in the debased state she was in.

An ill-shaven, grossly unkempt sailor from the crew forced himself inside her ajar mouth and he grabbed her head and pinched her jaw in a very painful way, using his titanic strength. His foul taste and the grossness of his touch had a powerful effect on her; she became even more of a trollop. She was the Countess of the Cocks. The big, strong sailor was violating her head while Petia violated her from behind! She could hear the sharp smat-smat sounds of her butt cheeks as they kept colliding with Petia as he accelerated into a frenzy of loud grunts and finally yelped as if in pain and she felt him twitch and explode inside her.

The next man behind her was another pair of hands she knew. Kürschner! The bastard! She grinned in twisted satisfaction or at least she tried to, against the insistent throbbing of that foul thing using her mouth like a pussy. She tried to grin because she knew he was quite tall and raping her where she stood would force him to bend his legs some of the way and endure some discomfort as he'd use her. Then she was being nudged down!

"No please, my knees!" Hendrikoff would have said if her mouth wasn't filled with a sailor's smelly cock. Kürschner now raped her more comfortably while she endured the ordeal on all fours with pain radiating from her knees against the hard wood. The sailor followed her down and took things where he left; he filled her mouth with his foul-tasting thing and kept pinching her jaw to keep her from biting and once more, he used her head for his own sexual gratification, accepting the discomfort in his own knees as he grunted in a rush of elated fury, this while Kürschner was pounding her on all fours, mortifying her to the greatest degree where he held her hips.

She hated being raped by Kürschner, and yet being fucked by two men at once gave full sway to her inner devil and she whimpered with heated arousal against the sailor's formidable cock. She dreaded his twitching against her tongue and palate, but it came. The big man exploded and shouted something in Finnish, "Voi luoja!!!" as he filled her mouth with seed and Countess Olga Hendrikoff swallowed another load, this time a load of sperm from Finland. Just as Sergeant Kürschner erupted with a load of his own. She hated receiving this from a peasant who used to be under her husband's rule. She'd rather swallow ten loads from Finnish sailors; it was at least more exotic. But she was forced to admit to herself the true reason of this; she preferred Finns over a peasant from her own county because it felt insanely erotic to get gang-fucked by total strangers.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh! Even better than the time before! This is what I call a very good fuck!" Kürschner had said as he finished emptying himself inside her. "Madame la Comtesse, I now leave you in the care of my Corporals. They're dying to die inside you!"

Ivan stood by and watched as one after the other, both Corporals who were present knelt behind the naked Countess and took their turn as their rank allowed them. The senior one entered her, deep to the hilt, and rocked her with brutal force, showing her she was being raped by a real man as she endured the knee-killing gang-rape on all fours, looking down and feeling the man's arousing hold on the crease of her hips, bitterly feeling the hard deck under her knees along with the lingering taste of semen in her mouth.

She knew Ivan was watching him and something inside her wanted them to flip her around and take their turns on top of her; not to spare her knees from the torture, but to allow the devil inside her to give her the evil sin of enjoying her own rape with Ivan watching. Her body craved his cock. She knew that if they did lie her down on her back, then she wouldn't be able to keep herself from wrapping her legs around each Lithuanian and cross her ankles where she'd give Ivan the show of her feet, knowing he'd go nuts! And then he'd be hard again. And rape her again. The dark being inside her wanted this! The Countess was in the pit of hell where she lost all control, even over her own body.

Ivan now watched the Doctor's wife being raped in front of her husband. She had been forced into absolute obedience by threats on her husband's life, and now the Lithuanians were using her like a fuck doll. She was of course naked, and was presently riding a Lithuanian who lay down and smiled at her, watching the off-limits play of her breasts under the golden torchlight that intensified the blonde of her shoulder-length hair, and her curvy breasts threw fantastic shadows over her tummy while she took another soldier in her mouth, and the soldier presently pulled out and splattered her pretty face! The face of a bourgeois young woman reserved only for well-off men, whose cheeks and smiling eyes were not supposed to be anywhere near such hobos in uniform, who now used their newfound power to shatter all social barriers and spew a load of hot seed on the lovely face of a bourgeois wife in front of her husband, because why not?

The young man under her was soon overwhelmed by the naked young wife who rode him as he held her waist and contemplated her gorgeous breasts. Once more he cupped them and felt her puffy nipples and this did it for him.

"Haaaa-rrrrrrhh nnnnnnnnNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNHH!!!" he uttered as he erupted with three or four heavy ropes of spunk, dying inside her with the satisfaction of filling up a rich wife in front of his cuckold husband. Then she nearly orgasmed as she suddenly noticed how young her rapist was and this filled her with a sense of profane interdiction. This was a young recruit only eighteen, perhaps even younger as some lads join the army by lying about their age, and she was already twenty-eight.

The deck was an orgy of rapes where no less than six or seven girls and women were being brutally gang-raped by the vodka-drinking Lithuanians and the ship's crew, while downstairs... Ivan remembered. The grand duchesses!

But watching the collective rape of Countess Hendrikoff was so much fun! Dark fun. It glued his boots to the deck, forced him to stay and delay his project of going fore and downstairs to erase the haughty airs off Tatiana's royal face.

The Countess was kept painfully on all fours while she begged the Lithuanians to please flip her over and let her lie down on her back and she'd spread her legs for them! Or at least let her stand and then she would allow them to do anything they wanted with her!

But the torture of her knees went on unabated. Her butt was too attractive! The Countess was not a maiden anymore. She had put on a slight amount of weight since her bygone wedding. This wasn't really noticeable when she was clothed, but it certainly showed now on her bottom curves. Where her butt used to be tight, it was now more generous and fuller, giving her a heart-shaped round butt that the Lithuanians and ship's crewmen loved to touch and kiss. A line-up of soldiers and sailors took their turns in the same butt-shocking position and all filled her up, giving pain to her knees and her pussy, while also forcing a couple of orgasms on her in the process.

Some soldiers pulled her arms straight behind her as they bucked her like breeding bulls, using such reins that filled her with the sense of being utterly dominated, which fed her forced pleasure and her successive orgasms exploded with higher-pitched whimpers as they replaced her dead virtue with the whimpering songs of a whore.

Aleksander the crew's third mate enjoyed her this way. He had a wild rush as he tried her ass-hole and basked in her screams and lamentations! Quite a rush to sodomize a true Countess! He soon was taken by a huge surge and screamed his bliss at the sky! What an intense act of sodomy it was! For the Countess, it had proven mercifully short.

Nearby, the busty maid was being raped between two sailors, who loved the plentiful jiggling of her milk jugs as the brunette was given something to remember, her head bobbing and her hair in full disarray. Arms held on top of her head, she endured yet another rape before the men switched positions and repeated the rape. Same rape, just a different man whose nervous jabs contrasted with the quiet, heavy style of the one before. Her shame was the same.

Ivan was then filled with a gross brand of fascination as he witnessed an encounter he would never have imagined. The huge Polish cook was now encouraged by the third mate into kneeling behind the defiled Countess and enjoying her, but the obese cook insisted that he wanted to remain standing.

Thus, at last, the Countess whose knees had been screaming for an hour was mercifully allowed to stand, but then brutally forced to bend over and show her butt and the slit of her cunt to this gross man she had seen, with loathing, in the ship's kitchen that looked way too small for him. The Polish mastodon stripped himself naked with astonishing speed and agility. His blubber heavy in his overhanging chest, his belly a country by itself, he walked on the bent-over Countess and the horror actually happened.

Ivan watched all of it. The man's gross blubber making unfathomable smacking sounds as he repeatedly collided with her heart-shaped buttocks! It was as if some ogre had materialized out of a fairy tale and decided to rape the Countess of a castle after killing all its occupants except her. His grunts were epic and spoke of how he loved this, most certainly his one time ever inside a Countess, and a fine young one at that.

It was a long bout where the Countess groaned with horror; groans that bye and bye turned into heat that forced moans out of her. Amid general laughter. The German-Polish mastodon finally spewed his load, the gross sounds of his relief being a rape by itself for the Countess's delicate ears, used to listen to the opera, as he utterly polluted her with a truly epic load along with his guttural finale.

Ivan had gone nuts from watching this grotesque rape! He rushed at the bent-over Countess, and she knew it was him as soon as he lay his hands on her. She spent the entire bout of forced sex whimpering and gone crazy as her body seemed to suck any pleasure it could find, be it to make her ordeal more bearable. Even the low-status hands holding her wrists filled her core with a sense of erotic debasement as she kept welcoming Ivan inside her, his hands on her butt giving her the final touch that did it for her. She screamed an orgasm that sounded like anger mixed with surprise. Ivan had betrayed her, she hated him, but did she?

Lost in his act of pure savagery, Ivan kept bucking the bent-over Countess while only having eyes for her butt. These curves filled him with growing insanity with each stroke where they got flattened against him. He loved their fullness, loved how this womanly fat gave her rounder shapes down there. He increased his pace to a blur of butt-tapping insanity as he passed his edge and erupted in long ropes of hot jism inside the sweating Countess! "Aaarrrhhh YEEAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRHH!!!" He was seeing her nude and barefoot on deck and this gave extra size and thickness to his urgent ejaculation.

As he pulled out of the Countess to leave her as fodder for his men, Ivan saw the youngest serving maid being raped in the same position, except the sailor was pulling her small arms behind her, stretching them in controlling reins as he kept her taut butt striking against him in repeat collisions, and when she knelt down in a futile attempt to break the evil deed, the man simply followed her down and finished the rape in a frenzy where his strained face showed every sign of the brutal pleasure he was experiencing. The little brunette was crying loudly and kept calling her mom, face down as her nightmare continued, the sailor always stretching her arms behind her and using them like reins as he now raped her with anger and called her a "dirty little Czarist tramp who needed plenty of Bolshevik cocks".

"Mama! Mama! It hurts! It hurts so bad! Mama! Too big too big too big naaoooo Mama-aaah aaah aaaaaaaahh nnaaaooo..."

"Aaaah aaah aaah aaaahh yeeahhh she's so good to rape! So young!" the sailor uttered, his face all tensed with mad pleasure as he presently gave her the last brutal strokes and exploded inside the diminutive maid, unable to wrap his head around the fact he was raping so petite and graceful a girl, who had kept screaming she was only fourteen as the first three or four men raped her on deck. He dumped a biblical load that told him that God had meant him to impregnate such young girls. The smallness of her bottom where curves still screamed she was a girl had guaranteed the success of the event. The brutally strong sailor lost ropes of slobber as he enjoyed the relief to its last tiny drop.

"Small girl, big load!" Ivan shouted, completely taken by the collective madness.

"The night is still young" said Sergeant Kürschner, who stood near him and offered to share a new bottle of vodka.

Ivan, sipping vodka, now watched Tamara, the Baron's daughter, being used as she stood bent over, held in place and used by soldiers and sailors in her delightful doggy fuck predicament, noticing the pure lines of her legs and the insane appeal of her dainty feet where she stood amid shreds of torn fabric that used to be that rose dress he had always seen her in. Tamara was so gorgeous in the nude! He had to pay her a visit! But then, what about going downstairs and raping Tatiana Romanov? She was no doubt naked and screaming and cursing amid Boris and his other men. Looking at her haughty face while raping her, and watching her lose her regal composure, would be a gift from the pagan gods. He hoped she'd be angry and scream at him while he'd make her his bitch.

The girls on board of the Russ were so pretty and utterly helpless that he had very difficult decisions to make.