Chapter 10: Urgent Lust!

Ivan enjoys some alone time with Nastya while her sister are enjoyed by the guards, and while the Countess is kept in good company. Then a pogrom erupts! Semen!

Captain Sidorov's thoughts...

For one hour, I managed to keep my men disciplined enough and the railroad station secured, as the distant roaring from the riot in town died out. The passengers inside another train all remained inside their cars as they saw us and were afraid to venture without, understandably so. My men were horny after hearing the rapes back there in town where some people had covered the wet cobblestones with flower petals to honour the grand duchesses, all three of whom had been taken inside our train along with their retinue.

I could no longer hold my men, and I was horny myself. Two things happened fast. One, I gathered the inner guard to keep the grand duchesses isolated in the forward-most cars, i.e the first-class section with their woodwork-rich compartments, while the train's engineers claimed there was a problem with the locomotive's boiler. Two, Lieutenant Malinowski and Sergeant Kürschner managed to keep the Lithuanians under control long enough to gather the retinue's men and lock them up in the rear-most car, a specially prepared cell-car in third class, while they kept the women in the train's restaurant car in-between. I kept Nastya close against me, pressing her wet travel dress into a prolonged meeting with my wet greatcoat.

The train became a small world with narrow hallways where men's cocks ruled supreme. The women were screaming in the restaurant car; I could hear them clearly and I knew for sure that the urgent gang-rape had begun, with the Countess and Tamara amid all this. I didn't care.

In our own car, Olga and Tatiana were filling their respective compartments with their cries of distress as my men formed line-ups. I for myself grabbed Anastasia and ordered her to shut her ears and close her eyes as I swiftly took her in my arms and carried her to safety at the other end of the car, while she protested, and yet, much to my surprise, Nastya obeyed me and pressed her ears with her hands and closed her eyes. Before I vanished in a compartment, Dimitri told me the Kommissar was fast asleep in his own compartment, snoring off the cognac he had drunk on the previous night.

As soon as I was alone with Nastya, I locked the door behind me and began to kiss her while she cried and protested. Kissing her while her face and hair were still wet from the rain was nothing short of wonderful; the rain water of Tyumen gave a special touch to her damp hair-scent! Her lips were like a wet fruit. What happened next was a confusion where she cried and protested and begged me to go out there and stop my men from harming her sisters, while kissing me back with the strangest of crazy trances in her corn-flower blue eyes. Her eyebrows were raised from the weight of her feelings for me as the inner conflict raged inside her, between love and her duty to her sisters and her family.

Nastya's wonderful world became my entire universe as I kept madly kissing her entire face, making her features my own as I licked her cheeks, her eyes, and marked my territory with my slobber. My erection was as stiff as a mating stallion as I pressed her against the wall and felt her corset-less breasts against my own bosom.

Mad with lust, I tore the top of her dress apart and uttered a wild grunt as Nastya's white breasts came into sight against the radiant blue fabric, both knolls suddenly there and looking at me with pale nipples. Nastya cried and protested, but I kept her against the wall and avidly began to suck her tits! They were wet with rain! Soft, cold and wet like baby skin freshly out of a shower! Her damp nipples further inflating my urgent lust!

Nastya's tits! They tasted so good! The more I marked her nipples with my slobbering tongue, the more I felt the urge to fuck her! To completely uncover the splendours of her body! She was crying. I didn't care! I grabbed the torn-open top of her dress and with rage and force, I dropped it all down her arms, baring her shoulders and most of her abdomen while she looked at me with a mix of horror and lust in her eyes. She was panting, her cheeks flushed to a rosy crimson, looking as pretty as ever with her disarrayed hair where the fading daylight inside the train played with her bobbed chestnut hair that encased her delightfully full features, where some of her childhood lingered in her cheeks. I could clearly hear the roaring from my men along with the screams from Olga and Tania.

I pulled her arms out of her loose dress and ordered the youngster to kneel on the bench seat and be quiet! The crying girl obeyed, perhaps terrified, perhaps spurred by something else.

"Kneel on all fours! Remove your shoes first!" I barked.

Nastya obeyed, looking at me with a mix of astonishment and mystic fear. She sat on the bench and I helped her out of her ankle-high shoes, out of her long socks as well. And I became painfully hard as my eyes once again met the dainty grace of her feet! Her skin was especially gorgeous against the earth-brown leather of the seat and the dark carpet of a profound earthly purple. Added to it was the peculiar scent of whatever was used to wash those seats; the train conductor would later inform me, with a cautious whisper, over glasses of vodka, that they had washed the compartments for the grand duchesses with essence perfumed with chestnut smoke from the Don River country near the Black Sea. Hence the suave chestnut scent bathing the entire train cabin; and it reflected Nastya's chestnut hair.

"Please, Ivan... Stop! I... I can't do this while my sisters..."

"Ahh! Nastya! You're so beautiful barefoot!"

"Please... no..."

As she feebly protested, I moved her and laid her down on the bench seat. She lay on her back, her breasts exposed in their fullness, like the softest landmarks marking the spring of her adult life, a two-hill empire of girly fragrance with some very delicate brown that I noticed for the first time in her areolas and nipples, and then a tiny birthmark lost in the milkiness of her skin. She was looking at me with her eyes in a strange trance, wet with tears, while I swiftly removed her travel dress, down her hips while ordering her to raise her buttocks and she instantly obeyed, then I pulled her garments all the way along her short legs, uncovering the surreal paleness of her naked body, along with the adult triangle of her brown pubic hair, as I found she wasn't wearing anything underneath, not even a nightgown! That's when I knew for sure that Rodionov had raped her the night before.

"You, tramp! Why did you let them do this?"

"AAAAAAAAAAWWW!!!" she yelped as I slapped her. I was in a rage! I had to vent it!

"Now, tramp! On all fours! So, you let other men use you?"

"It... It wasn't my fault... they..."

"Shut up! Dirty little tramp! That's all you're good for! Getting fucked! Fucked and stuffed with a baby!"

Nastya, crying and sobbing with fear and dismay, obeyed while she kept protesting. It wasn't her fault! They had taken her in her bed and carried her off to the skipper's cabin, where they had... used her. All of them! Five or six men. What could she possibly do?

"It wasn't my fault! Please! Understand! I love you!"

I no longer listened to her whining. I was contemplating the sight of this adolescent girl who knelt on the bench seat where the dark woodwork highlighted the brightness of her skin -- the revealed sensuality of a fallen empire. She was on all fours, a paradise to behold! Slightly plump, especially in her butt curves. Nastya was plump in a very pretty way. Everything in her screamed youth. I lost myself in the adoration of her butt, so incredibly soft as I covered its vastness of fragrance with the feverish warmth of my hands... with kisses upon kisses! Then presently running my hands along her thighs and finding out again how angel-soft she really was!

There was just enough space for me to kneel behind her and I urgently dropped my uniform's trousers after removing my greatcoat, which was still wet from the rain outside. Nastya was quietly sobbing as we heard the vile roaring sounds from my men as they gang-raped her sisters.

I took my cock in my hand; it was throbbing; I tapped it like a stick of power on Nastya's vast softness! Nastya's butt! Shaped like a slightly plump heart with a butt-crack that made itself as thin and secretive as possible, as if her anatomy was ashamed to show she was indeed a girl sharing the same human condition as every girl, such as the risk for pregnancy.

"I n-need to pee!" she said amid her sobs.

"Hold it, honey!" I said.

Nastya yelped sharply as I penetrated her. I found and grabbed her wrists and took her while pulling her arms toward me, using them as taming reins as I repeated the bliss of collisions against the vastness of her derrière! She began to whimper with increasing moaning sounds as I hammered her with rage.

The explosion came before long. "AAA--ANASTYA-AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH YES! YES! YES! YES! Ooooooooohhh Nastya! UUUUGGHHH Annnnnnnnnnnnnnddjjjjjghhh!..."

I literally died of bliss as I erupted in strong ropes of jism inside Shvibzik. She was the baby sister, Shvibzik, the "Merry little one". And I gave her my sperm. All of me felt the insane relief as I kept up my thrusts inside her, feeling her tight heat along with the heat from my own semen, until the bliss turned into pain and forced me to lay still inside Nastya. Inside Nastya! It was surreal! The roaring noises from my men kept reaching our ears as her sisters were being made the butt of a gang-rape.

It suddenly smelled like urine. It was urine. Nastya's bladder had gotten loose. The bench seat turned wet. The solemn first-class compartment was marred by this commonly human smell.

I simply took Nastya with me and we found ourselves on the compartment's fancy carpeted floor. The naked grand duchess was a prisoner inside a gilded cage, where she lay on her back, silent with tears streaming down her eyes as I played with the graceful plumpness of her breasts, picturing her in Rodionov's arms and then a handful of my men as they must have stood yesterday in the skipper's cabin while waiting their turns. Who could have been there? Stefan, for sure. He had been looking at her constantly in the Governor's House in Tobolsk. Yuri also... Yuri had kept making remarks on how lovely Nastya must look in the nude.

This was horrifying. And yet, there was something fascinating in all this. Something powerfully erotic. Nastya, the baby sister... Raped and gang-fucked by the Kommissar, a few guards and probably the Skipper and the First Mate... Perhaps even also raped by one of the negroes... After she was savagely stripped out of her nightgown, which must have been utterly destroyed in the process. Perhaps they had given her a new one, but she refused to wear it out of contempt and disgust for her rapists. Hence her having worn nothing under her dress! If only the people in Tyumen had known this!

If they had known Nastya was naked under her dress, they would have stormed us and won. Then Nastya would have found herself naked on those wet cobblestones, naked under a massive gang-rape! At the hands of commoners wearing cheap shirts. With their breaths reeking of cheap tobacco and vodka under savage mustaches.

I thought about such a possible course of events and my hands trembled as I kept kneading Nastya's breasts. They were pastries for my soul. So erotic! I had aged out of doing this with so young a girl, but the shocking age discrepancy only added fire to my wanting her. She was docile. I knew I could do anything I wanted. So I did.

The rain kept striking the compartment's lone window while I offered myself a feast of several courses where I allowed myself a great many things I should not have been allowed to do with Nastya. She should have been out of the question for me, and yet, the gentle plumpness of her body compelled me into another round of pleasure inside her.

This time I took possession of her on the carpeted floor. On top of her. I loved being inside her! Feeling my throbbing rod against her young tightness while I kept kissing the nape of her neck, while she kept quietly crying at those infamous roaring sounds from my men, knowing the heavy meaning at the butt of those sounds, and I kept pounding her as she lay under me, half dead with exhaustion under my relentless barrage. I used her as deep as I could, enjoying every fibre of her, every passing moment of the coitus.

I lasted longer. By the end, sensing my edge was near, I propped myself up where I could see the sensual tumult of her breasts with the strange calm of her ever-moving nipples, and the bobbing quietness of her ever-moving face as she received my unabating homage with her eyes half-closed while looking at me in her trance; this as she moaned and wrapped her legs around me. Why was I doing this? Tomorrow I'd be on my way to my wife in St. Petersburg... And never again shall I see Nastya.

Soon I screamed and cursed! The ejaculation came, long and hard! Even better than the first one. Nastya let out a frantic litany of high-pitched sounds, almost yapping in my arms as she shivered all over! I loved the heat inside of her thighs. I was the captor turned into a prisoner.

***

Countess Hendrikoff's thoughts...

They raped us again. Of course they did! We're powerless, defenseless! At their mercy.

After they gathered us in the restaurant car, I already knew it was coming right next. Tamara was bitterly sobbing. She knew it too. I took her in my arms and we cried together. Then the Lithuanians came and they separated us. Brutally.

I heard Tamara as she screamed while this big gross accordionist tore the front of my dress and bared my breasts as I wasn't wearing anything under. His piggish eyes looking down on them, he cupped them with sensual brutality as he grinned in the middle of the repulsive profusion of his dark beard. I writhed and twisted in their collective grip, but they were too strong and I had to let this ogre taste my breasts all he wanted! The brush of his beard against my skin where no such man was supposed to go. Revolting! I was paying the price for our Czar's incompetence! The commoners had revolted. Us women always paid the dearest price.

"P-please! Please have mercy!" I cried out amid what was now a pandemonium where the compact press of Soviet guards were asking us if we had missed them. In Lithuanian. And I was shocked to find I could now understand some of their words! Getting gang-raped by such a press of men seemed to do wonders in learning a new language.

I got a glimpse of Tamara. She was already Eve-naked. It must have been fun for them to rip her dress off her and uncover the bright-skin magic of her hidden charms; I felt that fun in their roaring jeers. Even I, a woman, had noticed how pretty she was. They were presently holding her face down and bent over a table, where a Lithuanian Corporal I recognized was actively pounding her, his eyes drinking the vast smallness of her buttocks as he gave her the brutal benefit of his repeated strokes, forcing crying whimpers out of her, and soon he looked up at the car's ceiling and let out one beast of a roar as he tightly gripped her waist and let his exploding cock speak for itself inside her.

They made me sit on a table, forced to remain in the arms of this ogre, the stout musician I had often caught looking at me in Tobolsk. With horror I noticed that his cock was out and ready to defile me! He hugged me on that table, forcing my face against his bearded repulsiveness as the others tucked up my dress way up to my waist while a forest of hands touched me everywhere I could think of. Or preferred not to.

The bearded ogre moved himself against me. I felt him! Felt it push inside me!

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NAAA AAAAA AAAAAAH AAAAAAAAA NOT THIS! NOT THIS AGAIN!!!"

The penetration came. Forced. Unstoppable!

The bearded ogre cupped my buttocks in his hands. He lifted me up and then let me crash down on the table as he impaled my vagina, marking once again the people's victory now that we aristocrats lay in their power. He bounced me again on the table and against his impaling force; and again! Again! Again... I spent the longest time against him, forced to learn his close intimacy, forced to know his dark hair was slightly curly with many white strands telling me he was a generation older than myself, learning also he had two small birthmarks under the lobe of his ear. All this amid a bouncing tumult of roaring jeers and laughter from his fellow uniformed Lithuanians. I was raped amid a khaki forest of soldiers. Raped by the Red Army. Of course. In sensual pain. One of them poured vodka on my head and called me a Czarist trollop while I kept feeling the ogre's horrible presence inside me, and his pressing force hugging me. It was a lot more shameful than painful, although the pain did sting.

The worst came when I had no choice but to hear the vilest of grunting sounds as he relieved himself. So disgusting! I was just a piece of meat!

"Hrrrnggghh hhnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!"

And then he pushed me off him and they pinned me on the table, holding my wrists on either side of me as I looked up and around me and saw all their grinning faces as they poured vodka on my breasts while the bearded ogre wiped his cock against my left leg and they violently pulled and tore off my dress from my hips, from my legs. Then the next man stood between my open legs. A young, handsome boy who grinned at me. They seemed to call him Benas.

I clutched my fists as he rammed himself inside me, his eyes wild with lust. He smiled down at me as his first strokes forced my legs to brush the sides of his uniform. I was one with him. He took my waist with a firm grip and rushed deeper inside me, all this amid a loud cheer of whistles and catcalls and laughter.

"Do you like your soldiers, Milady?" a familiar voice bellowed near me while someone poured vodka on me again, then hands pressed my tits. In the chaotic confusion, I turned to see who had spoken Russian. I saw Petia and the lone red square on his collar. The Red officer was no longer a serf under my father. He must be really enjoying his revenge as he saw me like this!

Benas sounded like a dying man as he painfully reaffirmed his grip around my waist; his moans became a crescendo of longer, louder groaning moans until he twitched inside me and gave out a long-winded groan as he erupted and gave me all his sperm! I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by too many sensations at once, from the strong scent of vodka to the hands kneading my breasts to their fat laughter and jeers and the way they looked at me and grinned. It was monstrous! Grotesque! Preposterous, yet it was the erotic happening of something those rough men had always imagined in their secret-most dreams. The rough hands holding my sore wrists were infecting me with their urgent lust.

They propped my legs up and a cohort of hands caressed my legs. Someone kissed my feet. I felt his warm tongue as he slobbered the toes on my right foot. I heard Petia's yell of triumph, and when he touched me and thrust himself inside me, I knew it was him! I knew his young firm cock.

Tamara was also being raped with her legs up. I recognized who was raping her amid the vodka-drinking Lithuanians. Sergeant Kürschner, his mouth wide-open as he looked at her, his expression no different from the one I imagine negro slaves must have in antebellum Georgia when they revolt in violence and sack their master's house; the gang-rape of his daughters being the grim result; and yes, those dark slaves must have had such an open-mouthed face with crazy-shocked eyes when they stripped and raped the white daughters. Lithuanians held Tamara's arms stretched above her head, forcing her to take the rape as flat and straight on the creaking table, where the pale smallness of her breasts jiggled like nervous profaned knolls that shimmered with the vodka they kept pouring on them as they kept ravaging her. Her long black hair that had graced salons in St. Petersburg amid the secret desires of ageing counts and princes, of Cossack palace guards too, was now wet with cheap vodka amid the vulgar press of jeering men. Such was the unthinkable price Tamara was paying in spades for our Czar's weakness! I shall kill him!

"She loves it when we gang-fuck her! The little harlot!" Someone said in Russian, knowing we would all understand his stinging words.

"Milady! We love sharing our love! This is the common sharing of all goods! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

Petia kept hammering me while my feet hoovered on either side of his boyish face. He kept smiling down on me, smiling wide as he repeated, "Yes! We're having the Count's daughter! Us, the serfs! Hmmn! This is good! This is aahh-good!"

The others kept my legs warm with their running hands, while the former serf and his boyish face greatly tensed up above me as he reached his point of no return. My own body was taken by the collective heat, vanquished by a boy's prowess inside me as I was... Raped on the creaking table, next to a forgotten cup of porcelain on a saucer, I weirdly almost felt happy for him when he relieved himself. The uniformed schoolboy almost looked angry at me as he gave me his semen, as he got into a trance, head bobbing and he lost his peak-cap, unaware he looked more handsome without it, with his rugged blond hair over his apple-cheeked face. He was half-peasant, half-schoolboy as he fertilized me with his eyes half-closed.

He was then replaced by a Private that I recognized as Herkus, who used me roughly and nearly forced me to climax as he held my waist with a pair of strong peasant hands. When he was done, he left me panting and in sweat, feeling like the whore I was now in their hands. Then came a wrinkled old soldier they called Jonas. He was too short to rape me on that table, so they moved me around until I was bent over the table, where I could smell my own sweat as Jonas forced himself inside me with a vigor that greatly surprised me from a man of his years. This did it for me! Those men were so strong! My body responded in a way I just couldn't stop. I hated this! And yet I was forced to enjoy some of it. Because it was so preposterous it felt like a bad dream with notes of forced bliss.

I spend the time with Jonas bent over with my cheek sliding on that table, moaning loud like a whore as the climax hits me! And it hits me again while Jonas breeds me long and hard, as if he were twenty again. I see Claire my loyal maid, nude and surrounded by Lithuanians, who keep her in their arms and offer her the suspended carousel where one man forces her to groan from the violence of his thrusts while the others keep her restrained with no part of her touching the floor. There is disbelief in her eyes as she looks at me amid her sweating suitors.

Tamara was being roughly enjoyed, now bent over just like myself as a well-built Corporal used her, his open mouth dropping worlds of frothing slobber. He was so far gone!

Something hot and gooey was felt in the small of my back, and I wondered what it could be. Jonas was still holding the crease of my hips and he was still throbbing inside me, so this could not be semen. Slobber! Jonas was dropping frothing slobber out of the sheer joy of raping me. I was swimming in a dream where the unthinkable kept happening over and over.

"We're happy to be of service, Milady!" said a voice I recognized. Sergeant Kürschner. There was a boy beside him. A black boy! No! I knew why he had brought the porter here. I panicked. Men had to restrain me firmer as I jerked and tried to flee. Jonas died inside me. Kürschner kept smiling at me as the others raped me in urgent succession. "We own you, Countess Hendrikoff. I hope you like African boys."

There I remained, a sex slave bent over on the same creaking table, violated by a whole squad of Lithuanians. It probably lasted longer than it felt for me. This succession of a dozen men was soon over because I greatly dreaded what came next. The black porter! I was to be raped by a negro! Was I raped by such a man yesterday? I tried to recollect that soup of confusion, but I wasn't sure. I vaguely remembered being raped by General Tatischev and he had said he had always wanted to fuck me. Maybe I imagined this. My world was a borscht of confusion with vodka endlessly poured on my head as Lithuanian words and cocks and repeated jeers kept constantly pounding me into oblivion.

Somewhere at my right, they had the Doctor's blonde wife as a lovely show of legs and feet on a table. Some of the train station's staff members were also there to partake. A uniformed old man who looked like the train's conductor was presently enjoying the submissive wife as she took him like a lifeless doll, her ankles resting on his shoulders with her feet hoovering at either side of his cap-wearing sweating head, where the wife's sensitive feet sometimes brushed his large white whiskers in the brutal tumult of his grunts, while a couple of young Lithuanians caressed and licked these dainty feet, enjoying what wasn't theirs.

Somewhere else, Catherine Schneider, a former tutor at the court, had been stripped naked and offered a surprisingly young figure, where Lithuanians had knelt down to bathe her young-looking butt with hot slobber as they took long tongue strokes, tasting the salt of her white skin that was born to a Baltic German family all the way back in 1856.

Nearby, Countess Anastasia Hendrikova, a lady-in-waiting to the former grand duchesses, was bent over where her solid, yet graceful buttocks were taking the rough punishment from a well-built man who no doubt worked for the Trans-Siberian railroad company. Her face gave every sign of annoyance mixed with surprise and wonder. My personal impression was she had never been fucked before. And I knew she was about thirty years of age and looked quite pretty in the nude.

When the entire squad had taken their delight inside me, Sergeant Kürschner ordered them to sink me down on my knees.

As I stood on my knees, I once more felt ashamed of being naked amid their pressing circle, and yet, a part of me felt proud, weirdly proud to have all their caressing gazes freely running all over me, caressing me like weightless waves of heat. After receiving all their sperm, I felt a grotesque bond between I and them. I felt how they loved my feet, my legs, my whole figure. And I felt like a Countess who was raped by her own garrison soldiers and secretly enjoyed it. I knew that the grand duchesses were sharing my fate elsewhere in the train, and it fed my sense of all social barriers being smashed wide open in this realm where the most sordid dreams took flesh.

The young porter brought my secret sensuality to an end. The negro boy didn't dare look at me as he stood naked in front of me. I broke down in tears and Petia came and held me in place with firm hands.

"Now, Milady! Imagine your father's mansion is somewhere in Africa and such slave boys have been working for you for years. But somehow they revolt and they storm and sack your father's mansion. You try to hide, but they find you! They grab you and no matter how angry you get, how loud you scream, no hero comes to save you and their dark hands disrobe you! And now, Milady, learn! Learn what an African boy tastes like!" Petia bellowed.

"Come on, boy! Go right ahead! She wants you. She just doesn't know it yet," Kürschner added.

The short negro finally unfroze. While still avoiding my gaze, he walked on me while masturbating. He had a respectable size, a terrifying size! especially for such a young boy who could hardly be much older than fifteen. His being just a boy and possibly shorter than myself added to my public shame as I watched in horror, getting trapped by the quickly forming bond between me and him as his hand kept massaging his coconut-brown manhood while he completed his advance on my kneeling figure.

Time stops as I hear the Sergeant give the dreaded order... "Countess Hendrikoff, open your mouth and let this boy give you a taste of Africa! And if he feels any of your teeth, we will disfigure you for life! Now come on, boy! Do what you've always dreamed of doing with a pretty white passenger!"

The porter became like a gone-wild golem! As I obeyed the command, he shoved his cock inside my open mouth and my senses exploded upon feeling this against my tongue and palate. The smell! His musk overwhelmed me! It caused me to rebel against my horror and wish for this thick brown cock to be inside my pussy! I felt curious to discover what it would feel like to have a negro inside me. I had heard they were beasts through those whispered conversations between ladies, although it was a very rare lady who had actually lived that experience. All of us had read accounts of the Zulu wars where British and Boer settlers had been attacked by those fierce warriors, and we all could imagine that some farmer's wives and daughters had been forced to taste and feel their powerful cocks during the sack of their ranch.

With his timid hands, the boy grabbed my head and began to violate my face as he took a gentle hold on my vodka-smelling hair. I tried to look up and observe his tropical features, but he kept me looking lower, level with his muscular abdomen as I noticed how well-toned his body was. I was hit by the urge of licking his firm abdomen. A force made me surrender to this young Zulu! His musk filling my mouth overcame me! I took a morbid sense of comfort in becoming war booty for him, as a white noblewoman. Now an obedient slave. There was something sweet and soothing in the act of surrendering myself to the cock of a negro! It bulged and throbbed against my tongue as he used my mouth and imprisoned my ears within the hot walls of his grunting. He kept at it, holding my hair with added zest as his grunts grew more urgent.

He was soon done! The porter yelled his loud victory, like an island cannibal raping a white woman before butchering her, and as he screamed he forced me to learn his name... "AAAAAAA YYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRHHH!!! AAAAAAAAAAHH WHITE MILADY! Klimbo's happy to serve you! Very very happy! Ooooooh so vvery happy!"

The ropes of sludge spewed out of him and into my gullet. The taste had sour salty sugar in it. Gooey! Vile. Yet loaded with something unfathomable as my hair remained clutched in his small brown hands. His last words had sounded humble. This further debased me, as I swallowed the last of his semen. I was beneath him. Lower than dirt.

"Now, Countess Hendrikoff," Sergeant Kürschner said as he approached, "you will do me the same favour as him. After all, you're getting promoted to the rank of whore since my cock is a white one! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

And I had to endure it all over again as he shoved himself in my mouth and grabbed my head to use it for his own delight. This felt worse because I loathed this man, who had been a serf under my father just like Petia. Words fail me to describe how debased I felt as one by one, Kürschner, Petia and a few Lithuanians took their turns in using my mouth. Some of them pulled out and let their loads land on my face, on my breasts, which I secretly found very sensual and erotic, but most of them, including Petia and Kürschner, made me swallow their disgusting sludge! They knew how much I hated this.

The man inside my mouth twitched and pulled out. He spewed his hot load all over my face. "UUUGGHH, Milady--nnnnnhh..." he uttered as he showered me with his glistening sludge. There was added heat on the top of my hair and this was NOT vodka. I turned my head around and saw the two youngest men in the Lithuanian platoon, just lads, who had been masturbating behind my back. They had landed their sperm on my hair! Plenty of it. I was ruined!

"You have a very beautiful butt, Countess! I've always wanted to see it!" Said the taller one in bad Russian, who clearly was about seventeen and had lied about his age when he joined the Bolsheviks. He had stripped himself out of his uniform and looked like the Lithuanian version of a Greek statue. I couldn't help but love what I saw. I felt shockingly debased, and yet I also felt like reaching up and licking his abdomen! For he was so handsome! Especially to the eyes of a not-so-young girl like me. How the time flies! I was their age only yesterday. I knew my years of being a boy's secret dream were numbered.

The negro boy grabbed me and gave me a command! "On all fours, white woman!"

I was shocked as I looked at him. His cock was already hard again! A brown Zulu thing I was about to feel deep inside me. I was about to share the unwritten fate of a few English or Boer girls at the hands of dark Africa. The worst for me was to realize that my body wanted to feel his hands, his touch. And the savage power of his cock.

The porter took my waist in his hands and the penetration forced me to whimper and yelp, out of the shock of understanding the impossible! The negro was now inside my pussy!

I felt his straining and felt the pain as he seemed to rape me with hate and anger. The Lithuanians encouraged him as he gave me an unforgettable experience.

"Countess Hendrikoff, tell us how much you love being fucked by negroes!" Kürschner yelled, losing no opportunity to further torment me. "Say it! Say it loud for all to hear! I love African boys!"

There was threat in the tone he used. And as the boy kept enjoying me, I let go the last surviving shreds of my dignity and said, "Aahhh yes! Yes! I love negro boys! I l-love being their wh- their whore!"

And just as I said those words, the boy sounded like a dying baboon as he powerfully relieved himself inside me. And the unstoppable orgasm hit me as he flooded me with African sperm.

"AAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN Tamara! Aah Tamara! Your feet! Your lovely little feet to die for! aaaoohhh... You're worth the waste of my sperm!" I heard a man say as he exploded and gave Tamara a load that should have been mine. The dirty little tramp! That voice belonged to Ivan Sidorov, the lover who had betrayed and raped me yesterday. I still wanted him inside me!

I confusedly saw Dmitri begin to take his own turn inside Tamara, also with her legs propped up against him and his grinning face, before my view was blocked by a pair of gross men whose bearded faces were black with soot. Each one had his cock out. Petia gave me the now-familiar command and I opened my mouth wide where I stood on my knees. And both men entered inside my mouth! They stretched my lips with their double size!

"I trust that you like train engineers, Milady!" bellowed Kürschner "They too had been dreaming of having a lovely passenger!"

The rest of it was a long nightmare, although one of the locomotive engineers would complain it ended too soon. A nightmare of vile grunting as the even viler taste of their cocks made me bitter against the former Czar and his weakness that was now costing me more than an empire. They were so vile!

Once their cocks were well-slobbered and as stiff as an oak stick, one of them had me down on all fours and took the usual position behind me. I knew what came next. But the other one turned around and pressed his bare buttocks right against my face, while I tried to look away, but the one behind me held me with hands of steel and he now thrust himself inside me. And while I was being raped like a bitch on all fours, the other engineer farted! In my face!

Petia and Kürschner laughed out loud amid the cheers and whistles from the cock-satiated Lithuanians while the first engineer took his turn inside me with his soot-black face. He soon uttered a long litany of moans as he took his urgent relief. Then the farting one took me as well, like a breeding dog, as he howled like a wolf. Yes, the Czar's disaster was costing me more than an empire.

***

Captain Sidorov's thoughts...

After enjoying this incredible fuck with Tamara, I found myself outside, sipping a glass of vodka along with Dimitri and ten or twelve men, all mixed together between inner and outer guards. They stood watch under the quiet night sky. Now that the rain had finally stopped, it was a most enjoyable evening, almost as warm as a June night, with the gas-lamp posts reflected on the wet street; another evening of a spring that would soon belong to history. We could hear the general lamentations of the women inside the restaurant car. We had our backs to it. I recognized Tamara's frantic yelps as she was no doubt being used some more by the younger Lithuanians. I also knew Hendrikoff's clear moans for having heard them myself, from my close intimacy with this noblewoman whom I had betrayed and thrown at the wolves.

"Listen to the music she makes!" Dimitri said as he smoked a cigarette. "The Countess is having the time of her life! And she's enjoying it!"

I didn't know whether I should laugh or cry. Countess Hendrikoff was one of the finest women I had ever met. I had avoided looking at her when I walked in that restaurant car after having my time spent giving comfort to Nastya as she wouldn't stop crying over what befell her sisters. She knew Olga and Tania had sacrificed themselves in their attempt at protecting her, so she felt guilty. Nastya had tried to distract herself by talking about Jimmy her dog, a King Charles spaniel, this while I was fucking her deep and hard on the carpeted floor of the first-class compartment we shared. I had left her under the virtuous care of Boris and Oleg, knowing all too well what they'd do as soon as I'd be gone. There was no avoiding it. I had fought to save what little honour I had left. Morality should have made me stay with Nastya, but my urge to go and rape Tamara had proven too strong.

My cock had shown a feat of endurance that was out of the human realm and was only possible through a most unique gathering of unusual circumstances, such as Tamara's troubling grace, the spiritual rosy whiteness of her feet, Nastya's presence on the train and the Countess's eyes on me when I raped Tamara. Thankfully I was now bruised down there and utterly done for at least three days before any chance of resurrecting it. All that was left for me to do was to guard the grand duchesses one final night and I'd be on my way home for a two-week leave. Sumeyye! My wife. The only woman I should fuck. Nastya was a girl I could never truly have, no matter how many times I kissed her. Now I felt guilt and a sense of betrayal as I thought about Sumeyye. She should have been enough for me and I ought to have been the better husband she saw in me. If Sumeyye ever learned about what I did during the war, and about what I just did in the last couple of days... It would break her heart forever. Her brothers would seek me out to murder me.

There I was, speaking with Dimitri about how great it felt inside Tamara, how she yelled and yelped and begged me to stop as I just hugged her propped-up legs and went at it with everything I had left. I was growing tired of such orgies, but the magic of Tamara's bare feet had given me a second wind, and I had ravaged her fair and square with my miraculous erection!

"And as I was about to burst, I saw the jiggling of her beautiful white tits and pulled out, and I showered her abdomen with my sludge, a forceful load of it that covered her navel area and her triangle of pussy hair with the irregular gloss of a pooling pond! My legs went soft under me and I thought I was going to die. I screamed! It was so wonderful! I'm going to do this again later that night!"

"Me too, Komroty! Me too!" Dimitri said. He had himself enjoyed Tamara with her feet up. He had filled her up while kissing her magically graceful feet. The most beautiful pair of feet I had ever seen, only rivaled by my wife's light-olive grace. Indeed, the record of my most intense and powerful ejaculation dated back to my long-gone wedding night with Sumeyye. And it still stood to this day.

The guards kept quietly chatting and smoking together. Russians with Russians; Lithuanians with their peers. My own men were telling how they had raped Olga and Tatiana in two different compartments.

"We had two line-ups," Yuri said. "It was simpler this way. Each girl raped alone while still hearing everything that happened to her sister in the next cabin! It was brutal! I chose Olga since I had her younger sister the night before."

"Olga? Why not Tatiana, she's so much prettier!" Vladimir replied before forming ghostly rings with the smoke from his cigarette.

"I agree, but, no offense, my dear Vladimir! Olga doesn't look like much, but once you take off her clothes, she becomes a goddess. Did you ever see the curves of her butt and the lines of her legs? And her bare feet? And her tits! She looks like porcelain in the form of a Copenhagen mermaid, her fishtail morphed into the most gorgeous legs you'd be ready to die for! The proof is in the pudding. Three times over, I took her like a bitch on all fours, and every time the eruption of sperm was massive! It almost killed me, I tell ya!"

"Oh, I see. Then I should try Olga out tonight. Thankfully, we're still stranded here in Tyumen, so we have the whole trip to Yekaterinburg left to enjoy our spoils of the Revolution. The engineers! They claim there's some trouble in the boiler. I'm sure the locomotive is fine! You should have seen how they raped the boiler-hell out of Tatiana Romanova! They grunted like jungle monkeys as they shot their sperm inside her, looking at her breasts with mad eyes that wouldn't believe they were actually inside a grand duchess, and the prettiest one at that! They're brave proletarians whose soot-blackened faces and beards stand for a great many long hours of hard labor. They deserved this lucky break!"

"Thanks for telling me this, Vlad! While I enjoyed Olga, I felt curious to know what was happening to Tania. Our Kommissar was first inside Olga. You should have heard how he kept yelling he was a negro raping her! He must have heard the story about the stewards, the Father and the Son, partaking on the Russ. The negroes had honoured Tatiana, but for some reason, the Kommissar chose Olga. Maybe he's afraid of Tatiana!"

"Don't say this. Here he comes, the man himself!"

Indeed, Rodionov was there, in his black uniform with those cavalry pants that deployed like comical wings out of his thighs. All men saluted him along with myself. He looked tired as he saluted us back with a casual gesture that would have never been passed on a parade square in Moscow. Tired, with joy in his eyes. He had clearly enjoyed his time with Olga. After hearing Yuri about Olga's nakedness, I felt curious to see for myself. To see and feel for myself, if my energy allowed it.

"Lovely evening, Komroty, isn't it?"

I nodded and smiled, my legs still bathing in the fresh memory of my deep encounter with Tamara, the more-troubled-than-ever girl.

"We need to get going, Komroty. Why didn't you go fetch those lazy engineers? We should be on our way by now! Go and fix this!"

But then we all heard something out there in the distance. A wide-encompassing concert of roars. A violence-filled rumour that came from the town. It was soon followed by shrill screams. The screams from panicking Jewish girls and women as their homes were being forced open by an angry mob of men from other neighbourhoods and soldiers from the garrison. The pogrom had begun.

We stood there and listened. Rodionov seemed to have forgotten the order he just gave me. We all listened to the screams of despair as we pictured the scenes of homes being invaded by soldiers and ruffians. The smashed furniture. The father and elder sons being beaten up, perhaps severely injured, a few of them even killed, while trying to protect their household. We new their true objective. The daughters; the panicking, wailing girls were grabbed and unmercifully disrobed by West Siberian men who called them "Jewish whores".

Their revealed nudity was violated by their hungry gazes, shortly before they were violated properly and were robbed of their virtue, losing their marriageability as they either shrieked or took the angry thrusts in frozen panic. We heard shrill wailing cries that sent a chill down our spine; the pet dogs were getting killed by the mob, either because they had tried to defend the household or simply out of cruelty. Hidden cats. Girls wounded forever. The Jewish girls and the treasures of their biblical bodies. There was the ultimate goal of any pogrom.

We remained there in some mystical trance. The horrific sensuality filled the air. It seemed to feed the gaslights whose moonlight glow was quietly reflected on the wet asphalt where rainwater had formed puddles here and there. The hoofs of a passing hansom struck that wet asphalt as the coachman hurried on, his passengers no doubt in fear (hansom = see first image).

Then, after a while, we heard light footsteps that had to belong to children, or girls.

After a short while, we saw them. Two girls running into the station! They clearly hadn't seen us yet. One girl was wearing a long dress, and was of average height. Her pale skin and her graceful motions as she ran gave a touch of despaired glamour to the scene. A much shorter girl ran after her, and presently begged her to slow down. I realized I had seen them earlier. Of course! She was the well-dressed little lady I had saved from a rape attempt by Stefan and Yuri last afternoon! So their home had been sacked...

Both girls stopped dead in their tracks as they saw us. The older one looked at me. Yes, she remembered me. She looked at me with imploring eyes as a jeering squad of soldiers ran into sight and both girls were soon surrounded and captured.

Rodionov smiled as he watched, even putting his hands on his groin as he anticipated the forced erotic show that was soon to follow, those flapping wings on his horse-riding trousers adding a black touch of grotesque to his grimly comical figure as he grinned and looked on.

I felt sorry for the girls, even though the devil inside me hoped they would be raped on the spot. The younger girl looked really young, no more than fourteen or fifteen, and I felt evilly fascinated at the prospect of seeing such a child girl getting forcibly stripped out of her nightgown, with those white ribbons in her long dark hair, and then brutally induced in an adult life she was way too young for. The thrill of curiosity I felt at this prospect would haunt me until my dying day.

We morally should have stepped up and protected these poor girls, but we stood by and watched as the eight or nine soldiers grabbed the screaming girls and tore at their clothes!

Both girls entered a grotesque dance as their torn dresses and gowns were tucked all they way up their legs and to their waist. The elder sister was a local beauty. She was almost a young woman and her shrill screams told everything about her innocence. The shapes of her corset lasted a fleeting moment as the leader swiftly used a knife to cut the laces at her back while others restrained her in a bent-over position, while hands explored her legs, and they grinned as they taunted "the lovely little Jewish tramp".

Meanwhile, the younger one went into a terrified silence as three men assaulted her and ripped her nightgown wide open! Wide open as the diminutive play of her nascent breasts was revealed in a sudden splendour of white skin under the gaslights! I saw those small dots of shadow and was damned forever as I contemplated her dancing nipples atop tiny knolls that told the story of a burgeoning girl soon the be made a woman.

I saw her damning youth that just slightly pushed her beauty out of her childish torso as fate showed her to my eyes in a three-quarter profile, amid the press of hands, and the gross laughter of tipsy soldiers assaulting her. Her nipples were there like small blotches of brown wine, and those tits wanted to grow more, and indeed were on their way to becoming the same pair of perky breasts that was presently revealed as the leader got rid of the elder daughter's corset. I heard the savage grunts as the men brutally made the young lady topless, giving fat whistles and catcalls to the diminutive grace of her revealed torso.

"Jewish girl! Jewish girl! Good to fuck!" said the leader as he cupped her breasts.

"Look at her tits! Mmhh! I'm so hungry for them!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA MIRIAM! Mriam! Help!" the smaller girl screamed as the debauchery of her long black hair was freed of her white ribbons and freed of any burdens of social constraints, just as plainly as her small naked body where boyish buttocks offered a paleness that should never had been seen anywhere in public, as the soldiers finished the ripping destruction of her nightgown, leaving miserable shreds of white fabric on her naked truth.

"This little girl already has hair down there. A lovely little line!" said a soldier who was already masturbating.

"I'm so fucking hard! Hold her down and spread her legs!"

The baby sister shrieked and kept calling her sister's name as they did just that. "Miriam! Miriam, please help!"

Miriam was herself too busy getting her breasts sucked by avid soldiers from the garrison. In the afternoon, they had been disappointed upon seeing how spent the grand duchesses were as they disembarked from the Russ with their equally distressed entourage. Now they had a lovely compensation!

"Jewish tits taste good! Aaaaahrr yes!"

"Jewish girls are a good stock! Always good to have some downtown!"

Before long, a first soldier was raping the baby sister, who once again fell in a horror-struck silence as she received her very first man inside her and her childhood died. Her tiny legs naturally brushed the khaki sides of his parade-neat uniform, and she reacted just like any whimpering woman of any age as the man quickly reached his climax and hailed the loss of her innocence with a gross, slobber-filled groan as he spewed a debauchery of sperm down there.

The elder sister was swiftly stripped to her bare skin. Gone and destroyed was her petticoat! Its torn ruins joined her ruined dress on the wet asphalt, while her ass brought erotic enlightenment to all those depraved men. I felt her Jewish whiteness operate a miracle in me upon seeing how firm and lovely she was! A profusion of beauty in her small hourglass shape! And her screams and vain attempts to fight the men off her were lovely to hear and watch! Two old vagrants joined the soldiers; I saw the old men looking at Miriam's buttocks with mad feverishness in their eyes as they began to masturbate with their mouth wide open; they had struck gold! In the form of a girl whose wonderful charms looked like silver silk under the gaslights.

While her younger sister was already taking the second man, Miriam was soon bent over and ordered not to move by the leading soldier, a Corporal, tall and well-built, who then freed his eager cock and began to rape her where she stood! Lucky man! He strained against her tight door with joy as he grabbed her waist amid a deafening roar of jeers and catcalls.

"Aaahhhh yes! Yes she's a-yielding! YEs! I broke her in!" the madman Corporal shouted as he tightened his grip around her waist and strained until he was all the way inside Miriam! She shrieked in absolute pain and horror while the men around her laughed and jeered as they restrained her and repeated the command with a threat.

"Stay standing or we kill your sister!"

I had the privilege of watching the mind-boggling scene, filled with guilt from the guilty pleasure I took out of it. Miriam's buttocks were baptized with repeated collisions as each fast-repeated stroke took her virginity and made her less of a maiden and more of a whore.

"Miriam! Miriam Stockmann! We finally got her! Hurry up, Sergei! I can't wait until I try her out!"

"Miriam! I swear to God I'll breed you!"

"AAAHH--AAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNHH!!!" uttered the soldier who had been raping the baby sister on the wet asphalt. His eyes looked surprised upon finding out how long and violent his ejaculation had proven to be. Such a huge load for such a child girl.

We all stood there and watched, exchanging nods and knowing smiles with the local soldiers. One of whom saw me and recognized the man who had shot and killed their commanding officer. His grin told me how unpopular this Major really was. What was his name? It didn't matter. The smug Major was gone.

The Corporal kept feeding Miriam a barrage of strokes that got lost under the bright buttocks of the bent-over girl, restrained by the squad of soldiers, then he looked up at the night sky and uttered a long, unintelligible series of grunting sounds as he emptied his sperm stores inside Miriam, enjoying the coitus from behind to its last drop as he squeezed her butt between his hands. "Miriam Stockman... All inside herrrhhh!"

The gang-rape took shape. Miriam was kept standing and bent over, her butt curves the prettiest sight in the streets of Tyumen as no less than five men took their turns in mounting her, the taller ones even going into the discomfort of having to bend their legs to line up their thing with her lower height, as Miriam got given a hefty amount of Orthodox semen.

This while her baby sister was kept lying down on the wet asphalt and urgently raped by four other men, her budding breasts too small to jiggle under them while she took the barrage of blows with closed eyes and the expression of a girl who just took a full bite out of a sour lemon. Her eyebrows were like the finest pen strokes under the disarrayed mass of her long raven hair. What struck me hard was the fact I was no pedophile. I was only attracted to girls who had tits. It was the nascent state of her future adult charms that turned me so horny, this and the context of violence that just kept screaming "Rape! Rape! Rape!"

Ruffians had heard Miriam's screaming and were there as sure as there are stars in the sky. The clouds were dissipating up there, but the darkest storm of fate was raging down there under the gaslights. No electricity yet in this barbaric city.

"Miriam! It's Miriam Stockmann! Yes!" said a ruffian, his face dark with filth, while one of the old vagrants was now raping Miriam from behind, standing with his filthy trousers down as he gave her repeated thrusts, holding her waist and looking down at the ever-moving play of her damsel's hourglass shape, his features all lighted up in some devilish show of stretched-eyebrows ecstasy as he got lost in the leitmotiv collisions with her youth and the silky softness of her butt.

"Yes, it's her! At last! We're going to buck her the whole night through!"

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE NNNNGggggggggggggggggggghhh!!!" was the vagrant's final statement as his thick angry ropes of semen abolished all the social distance between him and the rich Jewish daughter.

The other vagrant pushed his fellow old man out of the way and immediately took over. With lust and anger, he urgently raped Miriam as she sank down on her knees, yelping with pain as her nightmarish rapist followed her down on the asphalt, where she whimpered on with soon-to-be-bruised knees and it came down to a gross slugfest of growling sounds and urgent strokes, until the old man capitulated, vanquished by the small fullness of her curves, and his scream of glee echoed against the nearby brick houses as he failed to wrap his greying head around the fact he was ejaculating inside the prettiest Jewish girl in town.

A ruffian, this one younger, took over and furthered the bruising of her knees as he forced her to realize that younger men raped with more punishing brutality. Others were waiting with their cocks out, ready and stinking while the nine soldiers were now looking on, satisfied, while smoking.

We stood and watched on, at times peeing under the car, as the ruffians threw themselves on Miriam, the more impatient ones on the child sister. And both girls were submitted to an even more barbaric continuation of their shared nightmare. The child girl was put on all fours and they ignored the pain in her knees against the wet asphalt as they began to pound her. Such a pale radiance in her small bottom that already showed some sweeping curves! I felt so utterly fascinated by this imprompty display of small-girl beauty! I was as hard as a rutting camel as I witnessed the systematic rape from behind, where none of the men lasted more than a minute or two inside this Jewish child made into a woman as the men kept giving her full-fledged adult strokes.

Miriam understood she better keep silent and not attract more men as she found herself surrounded by a forest of no less than seven or eight cocks that she was ordered to lick. A few of the men let her lick their cock until they treated themselves to the joy of splattering her pretty face with goo. Most preferred to use her pussy.

Some of the ruffians were Tatars from the Muslim community. I couldn't believe the sight as five or six such men raped Miriam from behind and gave their sperm to the Jewish girl as they felt the spiritual wobbliness of their gone-weak legs and screamed, "ALLAHU AKBAR!"

Captain Sidorov's thoughts... (continued)

Then we heard hooves. A hansom foolishly drove into the station! He was driving at a gallop! Then he stopped to a screeching halt with a staggering show of skill. We couldn't believe our eyes! How foolish this stovepipe-wearing coachman was! But the passenger was protesting, shaking his fist at the coachman while her young wife screamed as she saw the gathered press of men and she then screamed even louder and shriller upon seeing the naked girls! All was clear to us as the coachman began beating down his male passenger with a walking stick! The forty-something coachman had driven the young couple into the station where he had heard the gang-rapes. He had taken them there so he could knock out the man and then rape the young wife. He was a man of opportunity.

Some of the soldiers made sure the young husband was out of commission while others grabbed the screaming wife, who shrieked as loud and shrill as if this was going to save her. It only made the men around her hornier.

"I know her!" the Corporal said. "It's Agnès Tolstoievski, the young wife Leonid brought back from France!"

"Let's strip her!"

"Give her to the coachman first! He earned her!" the Corporal ordered.

As soon as the soldiers began to tear her dress down, Agnès looked at us with transfixed eyes. Was she hoping we were going to save her? If we had not been this tired from our exertions earlier that night, we would have joined them in raping her along with the Jewish girls. She only owed her lesser load of abuse to the semen we had left inside the grand duchesses and the other women in their retinue; hopefully to our discipline as well. We stood there and watched, our guns and rifles a strong deterrent for any man who would have wished to climb on the train and get acquainted with our women. The other deterrent being the safely available Agnès and the thoroughly raped Jewish girls.

Out of nowhere, the coachman produced a box-like instrument that offered a quiet gloss under the gaslights. It was a Kodak, with its pyramid-like protrusion that looked like some small accordion, but one that tapered to a dark glossy eye that seemed eager to capture Agnès, whose little hands made lovely little fists where soldiers restrained her wrists while forcing her fancy dress open in one loud ripping show of eagerness, revealing the grandiose shapes of her corset as she seemed to dance in their midst while the smiling coachman held the Kodak in front of her.

"Agnès! Leave her alone, you dogs!" the husband yelled.

"Shut up, bugger!" said a ruffian as he silenced him with a vicious blow from the coachman's stick he had just picked up. "And be a bit more original in your name-calling! You could call us a pack of rutting boars who are about to breed your wife like you never could! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA NOO! AAAAAAAAAAA HURTS!" Agnès screamed in pain as a man pressed her sides with such force that the brass busks of her pricey corset were released out of their loops and the corset was opened from the front. Before long, the young wife was only wearing her under-gown and one of her shoulders was naked; they had loosened her long hair so she looked like a street whore, and that's when the coachman blinded the scene with a flash as he stilled her in black & white for posterity... (See second image)

"Агнес, шлюха!" said the Corporal, pronouncing her name as "Agnis" as he called her a shlyukha, a whore. Then, amid the general laughter and catcalls, the bourgeois wife protested her head out as the soldiers from a garrison who knew her well proceeded to rip her gown off her while some hands swiftly undid and removed her shoes and socks, leaving her properly naked and ready to be gang-fucked while her husband lay unconscious near the stopped handsome, his out-of-date stovepipe hat lying next to him on the wet asphalt. The horse stood there and dropped a heap of dung.

Agnis fell silent while all hands devoured the revealed French sensuality of her nakedness where she sat with her tilted ass on her feet with her legs under her, begging them with her eyes, but her perky breasts were too inviting, with strong brown circles for areolas as her nipples seemed surprised to found themselves in plain sight amid a press of strangers. The strangest of things was she did not try to cover herself; she almost looked like a model getting ready for another photo. She didn't resist much as grinning troops laid her down.

The horny coachman satisfied his taste for photography by flashing his apparatus and gifting the posterity with the portrait (see third picture). Once he had taken the memorable snap-shot, the soldiers kindly held his lovely naked passenger down on the asphalt while some young recruit held his Kodak for him, looking at it as if it were a holy relic while the forty-something man dropped his trousers, and while still wearing his high stovepipe and his coachman's dark cloak, he laid himself down on top of Agnès, and she nearly entirely disappeared under him and his cloak.

She yelped with surprised pain as the penetration occurred. The coachman soon lost his stovepipe to the asphalt as he fully exerted himself on Agnès, who quietly whimpered under his urgent barrage of thrusts, her little fists clenched where her wrists were properly restrained as per a timeless military tradition by the jeering soldiers, whose cocks could hardly wait while her legs strained under similar restraints at her ankles, while the red-faced coachman, his balding head in plain view, kept pounding her while grunting and blurting out words of joy such as, "At last I can fuck my passenger!"

He soon yelled his high pleasure at her face and kissed her as he relieved himself and I watched his climax while firmly masturbating. After him, the Corporal took his own pleasure, also by flattening her under him, her fists always clenched as she whimpered on, crying over the loss of her honour. Once the Corporal had given her the sounds of a dying man, the most senior Private took her and her eyes grew wide as she realized she was going to get raped by the whole squad in descending order of ranks, as per military tradition.

"Non! Non j'vous en prie! Laissez-moi..." Agnès feebly protested now and then, reverting to her native French as she was given the honour of the garrison troops. Her fists remained clenched as she took each man after the other.

Once the apple-cheeked recruit had filled her up with the vigor of his youthful seed, I couldn't help myself! I rushed at Agnès and the soldiers let me have her since I was the man who had shot their Major. With my cock as hard as a breeding stallion, I laid myself down on her and took ten wonderful seconds to suck her tits and feel her young flesh yield under my frantic tongue and kisses. With the taste of her nipples in my mouth, I penetrated her and spent the next fast-going minutes inside the bourgeois wife, enjoying the destruction of all social rules while licking her whimpering face and pounding her with unrestrained abandon. Her vagina felt just as tight as Tamara's! Just as good as Nastya!

I thought I was going to enjoy a massive eruption, but fatigue caught up with me. With a curse, I pulled out my half-flaccid cock out of Agnès and stood up on my knees amid the jeering of the soldiers. Kneeling between her legs, I masturbated hard while looking down on the visual paradise that lay under me—Agnès with her eyes closed, her dark hair made black by the night, and her breasts! Just there under the starlight with the wide play of her nipples. Her beauty, finally freed from her social dress.

My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as I realized with unfathomable joy that I was passing my edge! And with spasms throughout my kneeling frame, I began to yell at her while shooting long, thick bolts of sperm that landed on her abdomen, some drops making it as far as her breasts...

"Yes! Yes! The Revolution! We won! We won and the rich lie under the poor!—Hhmmnnn NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNYYYYGGHH!!!"

The sight of this glossy rain on her inspired the others, who all at once surrounded her amid a circle of kneeling soldiers, each of whom masturbated hard and grunted, all looking down on the fantastic sight of her naked bosom, and the home triangle of her dark cunt hair. Lost amid the forest of cocks, Agnès began to receive loads of semen from soldiers she had often seen standing at attention on parade square. They were now doing what they had always fantasized about.

"Aaahh yyaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

"AAAAHHRRRRRR AGNIS! ANGNGNGNIS!"

"HMMFFFFFFHHH!!!"

"GGD JJVVmmmmmmnnn gghh!"

As her breasts were given the hot gloss of shame, her fists remained clenched. I saw her open her mouth ajar, just slightly, and she moaned. She moaned under the rape of Tyumen's high society. The rape of the rich by the poor. The victory of Bolsheviks.

I returned near the restaurant car, while Agnès disappeared under a press of ruffians and vagrants. Some of the Lithuanians joined them in this orgy of rapes at the expense of the young wife, who was now kept on all fours and forced to receive each and every beggar, ruffian or filthy vagrant inside her married pussy. Some of this rabble decided they preferred to take her back door, and Agnès screamed in the strangest of sounds, a mix of pain and pleasure in her face as she discovered anal sex, thanks to a stout beer-drinking lowlife, whose wide face offered eyes like gems of bliss as he emptied himself inside her rectum.

Thankfully, Dmitri and the men of the inner guard kept a good watch around the train. None of those men was allowed inside. The other train where the passengers had been cowering all this time was assaulted when a full platoon of soldiers showed up. After a short-lived siege where a few gunshots were fired and one soldier fell, this other train next to ours was overrun—Soon enough, I heard the women and their shrill screams that told me the newcomers had found themselves a treasure trove of fresh girls to fuck.

"AAA AAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAA ALLAHU AKBAR!!!" screamed a Muslim Tatar whose brown face was tensed with joy from an unbearable ejaculation inside Miriam. The naked girl was now quietly sobbing in exhaustion as she lay on her back and got flattened under the next Tatar, an older man with a greying beard who soon polluted her lovely little face with frothing slobber as he experienced what was no doubt a very tight pussy. Miriam soon pulled the sperm out of him too. "Allahu Akbar!" he madly screamed before his elder son replaced him. He too would soon get acquainted with the madness of screaming Allahu Akbar upon erupting inside the loveliest Jewish girl in Tyumen.

Both locomotive engineers were present as well. Masturbating as they watched the girls' demise. I wondered which girl was going to feel their beards against her skin.

The forty-something coachman, balding and without his stovepipe hat, was now kneeling down behind Miriam and kissing her sperm-soiled butt! She had looked at me before amid her endless rapes, and she kept looking at me all the while as the coachman bucked her from behind, forcing her cheek to keep rubbing the cold asphalt. Her protruding butt was a sight that would sensually haunt me forever.

"Why are they doing this?" her eyes seemed to tell me as the coachman uttered a litany of moans and gave her his load.

"I've entered inside her like in butter! Like butter! Inside the little Jewish tramp!" the coachman said, all in sweat under his cloak as he got up from his crime. This while her too-young sister was being used between two hobos, one of whom shot his semen all over her face while the other was breeding her from behind and commenting on her "cute little Jewish ass".

"Aaahh! Can't believe it! She's aaaahhh so tight! So tight!" Rodionov uttered as he kept up his out-of-control barrage of strokes inside Agnès, who instinctively wrapped her legs around Rodionov's black-uniformed figure and began to moan with unbridled fury under him as he kept feeding her with his ever-renewed strokes and her little head kept bobbing in response, while she uttered ever-louder moans out of her ajar mouth. Rodionov kissed her and he shivered all over as he erupted inside her... "Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn nnhhhggh..." And she shivered as well, climaxing hard as her badly bruised husband watched in horror upon coming to.

Rodionov looked at me and nodded at the train as he pulled out of Agnès. I nodded back. It was time to go.

After both locomotive engineers had taken their deep pleasure out of Miriam, after the venerable-aged conductor had given his old man's pudding to her baby sister, Dmitri and I along with Boris, Yuri and Oleg were finally able to fetch them and get them to feed some fuel inside the locomotive's belly.

As the train began to steam, I heard another Tatar as he relieved himself.

"Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!"

"Nooo! Not a Muslim!" cried Agnès, who seemed to have lost her French amid this press of West Siberians and Tatars.

We finally left the orgy behind us as the train was set in motion by the steaming locomotive that was manned by a pair of wide-smiling bearded engineers. They were like the Devil's uncles.

I went to the restaurant car and looked by the open window while the train got moving.

The last thing I saw was Miriam and Agnès, both naked and kneeling next to each other, forced to kiss one another amid a circle of naked men, one of whom was comically wearing the husband's stovepipe hat as he took Agnès by the hair and, with his hand holding the proverbial stick of life, he showered her face with hot sperm while three or four other men did likewise for Miriam, with some leftover for Agnès's fashionable hair. The men's screams of glee were so loud I could hear them as the train left the station.

"AAAAAAHH GOOD LORD!"

"ALLAHU AKBARR! ALLAHU AKBAR-rrrrrrrrhhh!"

"By the All-Mighty God! The Jewish girl!"

Tyumen was a fascinating hub of religions.