Chapter 11: A Komroty's Death

Komroty Sidorov enjoys a long safe train ride home. He makes interesting friends.

Ivan Sidorov's thoughts...

Once the train had picked up speed and hurried toward Yekaterinburg, I turned in. Sleep deprivation caught up with me. I had confused dreams where Turkish men hunted me down for revenge for dishonouring my wife; where I wanted to run, but somehow my boots were glued to the ground amid a forest of tall Siberian pines and spruces, where Countess Hendrikoff was calling my name, begging for help as a pack of grunting boars surrounded her.

There was a heavy hand on my shoulder.

"We got you!" said a terrible voice in Turkish.

"... Komroty! Komroty! Wake up, Komroty!"

The hand and the voice belonged to Dimitri. Still heavy with slumber, I realized I was in my compartment and it was already daytime. The grey morning found its way in the gap between the earthly purple curtain and the cabin's lone window. Horse hooves with horseshoes were clearly heard on a pavement.

"Komroty Sir! You need to come at once! We're in Yekaterinburg and the local Kommissar's arriving with the escort! Come at once!"

When the hell did Dimitri sleep? He was always there to wake me up.

"My dear Komroty, uh, my dear Dmitri," I said sluggishly as I heavily moved myself and sat on the cabin's bench-seat and smelled some lingering urine from somewhere. "My dear Dmitri, when I'm a General, I'll make you my aide-de-camp!"

"Thank you, Komroty. Here's your tunic. Your peak-cap's right there. You had dropped it on the floor so I've put it back on the hook where you usually leave it. Breakfast will be served at thirty past eight once the grand duchesses will be gone."

Upon hearing the grand duchesses mentioned, I became alive and hastily put on my not-so-well polished boots, then my tunic and my peak-cap while adjusting my belt and the holster housing my trusty Nagant.

The local Kommissar looked even more brigand-like than Rodionov. No wonder he did; he had had two more decades to perfect his art of brigandage, as attested by the silver whiskers and stubs of hair I perceived under his black gold-rimmed peak-cap as I saluted him upon his climbing up and walking in the restaurant car.

The old bastard looked down at my boots, then at my low-carried holster. Then looked at me with contempt.

"Your boots need polishing! And you carry your pistol way too low, komroty." He spoke my rank in a derisive manner.

I reined in my urge to speak and say that a Major was dead because he did carry his pistol as per regulations, that I had better things to do than polishing my boots. I looked back at him and remained silent, standing at attention and waiting for him to return my salute. The bastard finally did.

"Welcome aboard, Komrade, I'm Kommissar Leonid Rodionov. This way, Komrade!"

As Rodionov led the local Kommissar and his men to the grand duchesses, the old bugger kept making remarks at our men's unkempt state, with the usual tone of a self-important colonel who hated being stranded in some garrison in the middle of nowhere. The Soviets seemed to promote this kind of petty, yet ambitious men; such men were predictable, as they'd obey all orders without question, like a good dog hoping for a promotion and a bone.

Much to my surprise, all three grand duchesses were just as neatly dressed as I had first seen them in that stately room in Tobolsk. Nastya was wearing the exact same dress she wore when we played our one game of colorito, except her bobbed hair wore blue ribbons that highlighted its chestnut hue while matching her eyes. I avoided her gaze, and yet it seemed she wanted to look pretty for me. Tatiana looked at me with the same hauteur, but now with more hatred than ever. Olga was lovely in her white dress and I could tell I had missed quite something by spending the whole night in sleep. The elder sister was looking down at the floor, as if she had left something essential down there. Nobody would have suspected that these women had been so ill-used over the last two nights. The old Kommissar nodded and said nothing. He inspected the grand duchesses one by one, carefully studying their features, then he cleared his throat.

"All right, let's take these lovely citizens to their father. The poor bloke must be dying to see them!"

I was happy to be in the background, standing there like a wall-flower as the local guards gathered the grand duchesses and their retinue with the military efficiency of fresh soldiers with properly polished boots. I had seen too much death and gore to care for such silliness. Keeping my revolver clean was all that mattered. I was relieved to see them go, even Nastya. I didn't dare look at her.

Nastya had collapsed and fallen unconscious. She was being carried by Nagorny while the Tsarevitch was feebly walking behind him and leading Ortipo by a leash, while Tatiana was walking harsh and strong in the mud, carrying her own luggage with Nastya's, holding the handles with fierce hands as she kept walking on the muddy ground under a drizzle rain. They had stationed the hansoms farther away on purpose, in order to make the former grand duchesses walk all the way out of the station, and to a clearing circled by tall pines. Tatiana was so tough!

Tatiana carrying her double share of luggage in the mud and walking along with Olga, who strained with her own luggage, while Nagorny carried Nastya effortlessly, was the very last I saw of them, as I stood at attention along with Petia in front of the inner and outer guards. All of us sixty men standing at attention under the drizzle rain for a final salute to our lovely prisoners.

The retinue was still in the train. Another contingent of soldiers were already on their way to take them to the central prison of Yekaterinburg.

***

Ivan Sidorov's thoughts, continued...

At last, it was over. I felt emptiness and a deep sense of loss and sadness upon realizing I would never see Nastya again; unless the Whites won and I'd change sides, which was impossible. I had to think of Sumeyye my beloved.

A hefty meal of sausages with pirojkis and a wonderful day of rest at the best inn of Yekaterinburg, and even a bath, did wonders for me and my morals. I was now sitting in first class on board of a train, on my way for 20 hours of railroad to Moscow, and then on to Petrograd where Sumeyye was waiting for me. I had sent her a telegram so she knew. Perhaps a young lover was comforting her and bucking her against the dinner table like I used to do whenever I was home; she deserved good sex and it would be unfair of me to be angry at her for doing the very thing I so freely did myself.

I liked to imagine her with one of the neighbourhood boys, perhaps little Sergei, who was just about five feet one, her own height, and how he'd lose his virginity inside her. Imagining this made me horny. I loved to think of Sumeyye's small erotic feet and her legs propped up with Sergei's freckled face behind them and his red hair brushing the inside of her pale-olive legs, the kitchen filled with her gentle moans, and his eyes shocked with wonder and his mouth wide open in moans as he'd experience his first lifetime ejaculation inside a woman—my wife, a thirty-year-old Turkish woman who looked as if she were still a schoolgirl!

I sat alone on a bench seat as the train sped through Western Siberia. Across from me sat a Colonel, perhaps fifty years of age and a fair chance for a balding head under his dignified peak-cap with the Soviet blood-red star, with four matching red squares lined up in a show of authority on his collar, his neck slightly fat with a sheen of sweat since this was a warm day. Beside him sat a pretty girl, a brunette who had to be his daughter. I didn't pay much attention to her. I unfortunately didn't have any books with me, so I pretended to fall asleep, but this pesky Colonel kept clearing his throat as a way to remind me, a subordinate officer, not to fall asleep in his august presence.

Then I stared at the window to contemplate the passing landscape—always the same rolling hills of spruces and pine-trees, seen through the window like a speeding, ever-renewed deep spruce-green tapestry—

"Stop looking at my daughter, Komroty!"

I was startled, not expecting him to be so direct, but indeed, his daughter sat right next to the window, her face most pretty against the dark wood-work, while the Colonel sat opposite to me. I couldn't help but notice her pleasing figure with the usual bright skin encased in brown hair that offered a grandiose contrast against a fancy yellow dress, with the Victorian shapes of a corset that contained a pair of perky breasts that naturally drew the eyes of men. I stood up.

"I apologize, Komrade Colonel, and I'm very sorry if I offended you, but I happen to be without books and even without a piece of wood to carve, and as you know, this is a very long train ride. If I can humbly ask you, Komrade, would you lend me a book so I can read?"

The Colonel looked at me, surprised. I felt his daughter's gaze on me. Sumeyye was on my mind.

He began to laugh, quietly at first, then openly. "Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Now that's a change! An officer who actually speaks the truth!"

Then, the Colonel fumbled a bit in his small luggage and produced a book.

"There you go, my young friend," he said as he gave me a book. "By the way, I am Komandir polka (regiment commander) Vladimir Nesterenko, on my way to my hometown, Kiev. And this is Nadja, my daughter!"

I bowed and kissed Nadja's offered hand with the gentlest touch I could muster. She smiled at me, blushed and looked down at her feet. I then formally shook hands with the Colonel and the four bloody squares on his collars as I formally introduced myself.

He then smoked a pipe and I began to read the book. It was written of course written in Russian and its title was "Turkish Delight". Nadja kept looking my way, and it was clear she was doing her best not to burst in laughter. She knew what this book was about. I soon knew it too.

The novel was set in the Crimean war. It was about a young noblewoman from St. Petersburg whose husband was a Major in command of some outpost deep in Caucasus and manned by only 150 soldiers; a fort where she was one of a handful of women. The fort gets attacked by a far superior force of Ottomans. At the end of a two-week siege, the Major knows he's lost, but he doesn't have the nerve to shoot his wife, who is predictably very lovely and young. He shoots himself and soon after, the fort is overrun. Leonida Glebova—that's her name—gets gang-raped by a group of British and Turkish officers while the rest of the Ottoman regiment gang-rape the other women to their death. Leonida ends up as the only survivor and gets nick-named the Turkish Delight. She is also forced to suck the cocks of 300 Ottoman soldiers. After which she can't chew any food and has to be fed through some nutritive porridge; this and more Ottoman semen.

Leonida is sold to a rich Turkish official who owns a harem, where she meets and rivals a fallen Countess who was captured by Georgian pirates on the Black Sea. The rest of the novel goes into sordid details about things such as anal sex, the Countess getting fucked in her three holes at once, and a host of deeply debasing things I care not to mention, such as a fetish about eating a woman's excrement, and other things even more disgusting. After two hours of this sludge, I began re-reading the beginning and the military details about the Crimean war, since this was the part I found most interesting. This and Leonida's initial gang-rape, which was one of the finest erotic scenes I had ever read. I could tell the novel's author had actually partaken to a gang-rape in real life, just like myself.

As I read on, my mind began to wonder. I wished for war's horrors to be behind me. I had heard I had good chances of being promoted to Deputy battalion commander, which was basically the same two-square rank, but with better pay. With any luck, I could have a quiet posting as the second-in-command of some small-town garrison not too far from Petrograd, where I would see my wife often and...

A commotion shook the entire train. It was stopping! Rifleshots tore the serene day.

"What?! How dare they attack us!" the Colonel bellowed, as more and more gunshots broke the day's peace.

Nadja screamed and flung herself into her father's arms. He was himself ghastly white and shaking like a leaf. He clearly had never been in an actual battle.

I looked out the window and saw a dozen soldiers about 100 yards away; and more were coming. A lot more. The enemy, with a paler shade of khaki and peculiar hats, higher than our own garrison caps. White Anti-Bolsheviks. Crouching and shooting and advancing. Gunshots ripping through the air like sharp firecrackers!

"Keep down! How many soldiers defending that train, Colonel?" I asked while pulling my revolver out of its holster.

"Drop your gun, Komroty!"

"Say again?"

"I said, DROP YOUR GUN!"

The Colonel was indeed pointing a Nagant at me, with eyes that told me he would shoot if I did anything other than drop my revolver immediately. I could still have shot him, probably, but my gaze met Nadja and I dropped my revolver and raised my hands. I didn't want to shoot a man right next to his daughter; and I had already shot a man yesterday. More gunshots were heard, some of them coming from our own side as the soldiers on our train were returning fire.

"There are too many of our boys for the soldiers guarding this train. You're as good as our prisoner, Komroty. How did you like my little piece of acting? Did you like the novel too? Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

"It's not funny, Colonel! My wife's waiting for me in St. Petersburg and... and she's Turkish!" I replied as more shots tore the air. Nadja had picked up my own Nagant and was pointing it at me, her breasts under her dress as inaccessible to my touch as the moon. She smiled coldly.

"Would you like me to send her a telegram?" she jested with a cold voice. Gunshots were heard, but only a sorry few from our side.

"It's soon going to be over. There are several Soviet officers on this train, along with some gold bars that was meant to buy supplies and weapons for the wrong cause. I like you, Komroty. From the way you handled your pistol, I can tell you're no recruit and you once served the Czar, but first you'll have to tell us everything you know. Like how many men in the garrison at Yekaterinburg, that sort of thing. My daughter is sweet to look at, but don't be a fool. She has ways to make men talk."

It was indeed over soon.

The Colonel led me outside, where enemy soldiers reverently saluted him. He was their commander! Nadja stood tall next to him. None of the White soldiers dared look at her.

"Meet my men, Komroty!" he bellowed. "Men of the 7th Tatra Rifle Regiment, from the Czech Legion! All of them loyal to me! I'm Colonel Josef Marousek, from Prague, but I have Ukrainian relatives. Nadejda, search him!" he added in his Russian so perfect he had me fooled.

As I stood, my hands always visible to him as he had requested, Nadja's dainty hands began a firm patting journey on my person. She went through my pockets and removed my Swiss Army knife from my uniform tunic.

"I hope you'll serve me hot wine in a cup, now that I have nothing to open a bottle with!" I jested while Nadja's hands seemed to take interest in my buttocks, where they lingered a great deal of time. Then her hands moved to the front and felt the stiffening of my cock as I began to fantasize about her father's men going into mutiny and gang-raping her while singing in their tongue, which was of course unintelligible to me. "You must be beautiful in the nude, Nadja," I whispered as she stood very close to me, positioning herself between me and her father so he couldn't see where her hands were.

"Search him, I said!" her father said without looking at us, his attention focused on the captured train.

Inside the train, the victorious troops began to jeer while women screamed and Soviet men protested or begged for their life. A few gunshots were heard and then the women screamed louder and shriller. I would soon learn that there were about thirty Red soldiers on the train, while there were at least three hundred Czech soldiers.

The surviving defenders, some of them wounded, were pulled outside the train and then summarily shot as traitors to the Russian Empire. The sound of that sharp volley sent a chill down my spine and my erection died inside my uniform's trousers. They were only keeping me alive to gain information out of me. But Nadja seemed to like me, or perhaps her inappropriate touching was a ruse. She had taken my wallet and was counting how many rubbles I had.

"They clearly pay you cheap!" she said, ignoring the women's screams inside the train while Czech soldiers were gathering all male passengers outside, and shot some of them on the spot. "You'd make just as much on our side as a Sergeant!" Nadejda added, ignoring the horror.

A handful of girls were pulled outside the train, civilians wearing a young lady's dress and short day gloves, along with female personnel in their khaki tunics and skirts from the administration or communications service, whose trip to a leave had been cut short by tragedy. Each of these girls was surrounded by a pack of grinning Czech suitors.

One caught my attention with her cascades of curly golden hair as she looked all around her in panic while a junior officer cupped her breasts through her blue-green travel dress and she screamed, "NIIET! NIIIIET! AAAAH AAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH-NNIIIIIET!!!"

"Leave my niece alone, you filthy pigs! Leave her or I'll have y..." Pow-Pww!!!

It was a Major who had been pulled out and protested at the abuse of his niece. He was now lying face down on the long grass, shot twice through the heart by a smiling officer, now putting back a German Mauser pistol in its holster of Czech leather.

There was a grim concerto of tearing fabrics as Soviet uniforms and travel dresses were ripped open! The young lady with curly blonde hair lost her cute round hat as she screamed at the top of her despair. "Uncle Yuriiiiii! Uncle-- aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA NNIIIIET! Niet! Niet!"

Her perky breasts were lovely to look at with delicate brown nipples that danced in a milky show of pale boobs under the sun, soon buried under a forest of jeering hands as the Czechs around her whistled and said things I understood the drift of without knowing the language. "Sovětská děvka!" "Sovětská děvka!" I heard many times as they stripped her out of her dress and soon out of her gown upon finding she wore no corset. The Colonel told me they were calling her a "Soviet tramp".

The military girls were urgently stripped out of their uniforms, their young breasts offering a debauchery that grotesquely looked both fitting and out of place amid the horny soldiers. The Soviet tunics were ripped wide open as girls kept shrieking, their hair was flying loose as their garrison caps fell on the grass and khaki skirts were pulled down with raging hands as the surrounding Czechs grew even hornier at the sight of their hairy triangles in the south of their suddenly-nude hips, where their milky curves offered an impromptu dance amid their screams and the men's victorious jeers and grunts and catcalls.

That blonde niece whose uncle lay dead was Eve-naked amid the jeering troops; naked except for her brown day gloves and her shoes. She was bent over and summarily raped by the junior officer leading her pack of admirers. She fell silent as she suffered what was most likely her deflowering. She indeed was a maiden. Her little gloved fists were clenched with all her strength as she suffered the worst fate that could befall a woman.

The other girls, naked or half-naked, were all laid down like spring flowers on the grass, with some of them similarly bent over, and then of course, raped urgently under the bright sunny day. One of the administration's girls was still wearing her regulation khaki skirt; they had tucked it right up her waist and her stockinged thighs were now forced to a rough brushing with a Czech uniform while her breasts were urged into an acceleration of jiggling as the soldier, his ass hairy and trousers down at his knees, was feeding her the first strokes of her random encounter with enemy forces.

I heard hooves on the grass and, upon looking where it came from, I discerned a troop of cavalry riding parallel to the forest line and headed toward us. As they got closer, I noticed they had long hair hanging out under their dark busbies, the sun catching hair of various shades ranging from gold to black silk along with the hussars' diminutive build. Women! Female cavalry, all thirty of them!

They soon halted near the train, where they saluted the Colonel.

"Late again, Lieutenant! What's your excuse this time?"

"We're never late for what's important, Sir!" the Cossack officer replied in a familiar tone as she dismounted. Her Russian had the accent I had heard from men of the southern Don country. I knew therefore that I was looking at a troop of Cossack girls in uniform.

"YOU WILL REGRET THIS! LAY YOUR HANDS OFF ME!" yelled a voice I knew well. Rodionov!

"Niet! Please, niet! I'm with him!" Sonja suddenly said, pointing at me as she recognized me and hoped I would save her. It was Sonja indeed, with her blonde hair in braids and her neat garrison cap, her slim hourglass figure in her small-size Bolshevik uniform with the lone red square on her collar that proclaimed she was a junior officer in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was looking at me as her one last hope.

I stood there and looked down. I was a prisoner myself. And yet I secretly wished to see her forcibly undressed under the sun, and then raped under the serene sky. I was wishing even more strongly that a larger Bolshevik force would show up and the tables would then be turned... and each of these pretty hussars would become fuck fodder for the Red Army, and I would then be the first man inside Nadja as she'd get gang-raped in front of her condemned father.

"Don't be a fool, Komroty! I'd never take Nadja where she'd be in danger," the Colonel said, staring at me with ice-cold eyes of a steely blue.

Kommissar Rodionov kept protesting as soldiers forced him down on his knees while others grabbed Sonja and began ripping at her uniform as she filled the air with screams while calling my name... "Ivan! Ivan! Niet! Niet! Don't let them! Remember our time together!!!"

I did nothing and watched as the pack of grinning Czechs forced her tunic open, sending brass buttons in the grass, and ripped her under-shirt wide open as she seemed to make a writhing dance in their midst as the sun-filled magic of her breasts came into view, a glorious play of perky tits, which I had tasted myself in Tobolsk. I couldn't believe this was happening! Violence and rape kept following me wherever I went. And one of my wildest fantasies was happening before my very eyes. Sonja, raped by the White Army.

"The tramp!" I heard Nadja say with a hiss that did not bode well for Sonja. She shouted something in Czech and some of the soldiers around Sonja smiled at her, while Sonja was made topless and stripped of her rank, her bare torso with her pushed-out treasures hoovering amid them and soon a prisoner of their collective lust, the sunlight began showing those boobs with a sheen of slobber amid all those hands, while the entire train resonated with shrill female screams as hundreds of Czechs were now busy gang-raping the prettier passengers; the field echoed with the crying despair of the girls being raped outside. A small platoon was guarding some fifty kneeling, unarmed men next to a car within which the rapes sounded the most intense. I noticed that many of those kneeling men, whether in uniform or in civilian clothes, had a raging erection that pushed their trousers into a clear statement.

"Lieutenant Anika, you and your girls can have those men before we process them!" said the Colonel.

"Aye Aye, Sir! What about this Red officer? He's a bit old, but..."

"This one's mine, bitch!" Nadja replied, putting her hand on my shoulder and thus marking me as her property. I felt a hot surge of lust as I realized I was soon going to fuck the Colonel's daughter and I found myself mentally debating which position I would like best to have her in.

Rodionov kept loudly protesting while the Czechs freed Sonja's feet out of her boots and finished stripping her naked with military efficiency. A Sergeant was already lying down on top of her as she screamed her life out and tried with all her might to jerk herself out of their clutches, but they made fun of her efforts as they restrained all her limbs on the grass. The Czech Sergeant was soon pounding Sonja, who fell silent under him, barring her whimpers.

"I'LL HAVE YOU SHOT! ALL OF YOU!!!" Rodionov barked.

"Colonel, Sir," I said, "this man has touched and looked at Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanova in a very inappropriate way during the trip where they moved the grand duchesses from Tobolsk to Yekaterinburg. If you trust my word, Sir, I'd like to request my revolver so I can shoot the bugger through the head and quiet him down for good. He's quite loud and I'm tired of hearing him."

Much to my surprise and wonder, I felt my Nagant in my hand again! The Colonel trusted me, even as I stood near his daughter!

Rodionov became as white as a ghost as he saw me pointing my Nagant at him while the Czechs walked away, leaving him alone in my line of fire about 20 yards away. As good as point-blank.

"Captain Ivan Sidorov! This is treason! You don't mean to..."

POw!

My bullet told him I did mean to as it ripped through his brain and left a wider hole behind his skull before striking the car's black wall behind him, where it joined a squad of Czech bullet impacts.

"Fascinating that you're using the old-world rank instead of calling me Komroty! The Komroty dies today!" I said as Rodionov fell like a lifeless doll, face first in the grass, soon in a pool of blood next to his fallen peak-cap, this black cap as if made of gold and shadow in the sunlight, where he somehow twitched and found the energy to turn his head and look where Sonja was now naked and getting raped hard and stiff by a Corporal, where the Czechs kept her spread-eagled and began the process of using her in descending order of rank and seniority, while a smiling Sergeant smoked a cigarette.

Rodionov whispered something and died before this Corporal uttered a long groan in Sonja's face as he relieved himself.

I handed my revolver back to Colonel Marousek, presenting it handle first. He could have easily taken it and shot me. I was showing trust and returning the favour.

"I surrender myself to you, Sir! I'll tell you all you wish to know."

As I spoke, my heart grew heavy. Sumeyye! Would I ever see her again?

"Spoken like a gentleman! You ring true every time I test you! Your weapons will be returned to you shortly, Captain!" he replied while taking my Nagant.

The train was still loud with female screams. The orgy would be going strong for hours. Or until the Colonel would decide to leave. From the look of it, the Czech Legion had taken control of this region about 250 verstes West of Yekaterinburg.

The Cossack hussars were now upon the male prisoners. Much to my delight, some of these women had taken their boots off along with their tight hussar trousers, offering their bushes of pubic hair in plain view under this gorgeous sky, along with their butts. They were all young, so the scene was pleasant to watch.

The other half of the hussar troop had remained fully clothed, Lieutenant Anika among them. They had their pistols out and ordered a row of fifteen kneeling men to start licking the cunts of the other fifteen girls, who stood right in front of them.

The terrified men began their tongue duty. Before long, the girls were all moaning while their peers kept a pistol pointed at the men's head, this while the other male prisoners looked at the scene, both puzzled and horrified, where they remained under the watch of the twenty-strong squad, which I noticed was made up of older soldiers and young lads, and that's when I understood I was looking at a half-platoon composed of sodomites. Those Czechs were actually waiting for the girls to finish their business before ass-fucking those men! And this was taking place near the place where the corpses of fifteen to twenty Soviet soldiers lay dead, with the first crows cautiously approaching.

"Hey! This man bit me down there!"

POw!

The accused man fell down on the grass and lost a great deal of blood out of a hole in his skull, where a Cossack had shot him before he could say anything in his defense.

"The next man I catch biting will be quartered!" Anika barked while pointing at the horses, who were quietly grazing some distance away while the orgy raged on inside and around the train. Many of the surviving Red officers now deeply regretted having had their wife, daughter or niece coming over in this war-torn part of Russia.

"Noo! No not this! No negroes! No negroes!" bawled a girl inside the train. She was about to be raped by one or more porters as the train staff was joining in, siding with the victors. She sounded very young. Very Russian too.

Another porter was outside, now in the deepest of all ecstasies as he raped the maiden with the curly golden hair, the dead Major's niece, on the grass where she was down on all fours—She unwillingly, yet freely offered the forbidden curves of her milk-white buttocks, along with the virginal lines of her legs, under the negro's sunlit face as her face slid on the grass along with his unrestrained, grunting strokes. He kept her wrists together in the small of her back and she kept whimpering and protesting...

"Too big! Too big! Please! Take my pussy instead, nooo! AAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa It hurts!!! Nooo!" the maiden wailed as she was being Africanized under the Siberian sun, the negro grinning down on the lovely vastness of her butt as the porter lost a colony of frothing slobber and yelled, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" as he exploded inside the young lady passenger, flooding her butt-hole with a satisfaction that could only be conjectured.

Sonja was still being raped by the Czech troops next to Rodionov's corpse. The Colonel now stood nearby and began to masturbate.

***

Nadja led me away and into the forest. After a few paces in, we found ourselves alone. She sank down on her knees and swiftly undid my trousers. I loved the moment when my stiff erection met her steel-blue eyes, where her eyebrows were raised as she took a gentle hold of it and began kissing it.

"Stand here, Captain! Quiet! If you do it well, you might live!"

I didn't like the way she talked to me. This was a girl who liked to give commands. She knew I could easily overpower her and run, even kill her. What then? Run? Whereto? I'd be soon caught by their cavalry. No. As far as I could tell, she and her father were trusting me. Astonishingly so! So they were good judges of men, for I would never harm a woman, and certainly not when she was giving me sexual favours!

"Yes, Ma'am! At your service, Ma'am!"

"Don't speak unless you're spoken to!" and as she spoke, she gently bit me. This was a warning. I was liking her less and less. "Do you really think I'd be stupid enough to go out here alone with you? Trust my words when I tell you there's a sniper right behind you! Don't turn around. You won't see him, but he sees you! His rifle is aimed at you! Now, slave, lie down on the ground!"

I did what she said, going against my very nature as I prefer to dominate a woman in bed. As I laid myself down on the forest bed, amid last year's decomposing leaves and a myriad of twigs and ferns, Nadja watched me like a hawk. Was she bluffing about the sniper? Perhaps. I could still hear the lamentations and the jeering from the train, but it was more like a quiet rumour among the tall spruces. The scent was earthly with clear spruce fragrances. No more whiffs of death and gunpowder.

As I watched her, she stood tall over me, enjoying her vantage point as a girl who wasn't all that tall herself. Nadja smiled down on me, clearly a girl who loved being the dominatrix. She showed no sign of undressing herself, much to my disappointment. However, she bent over and her hands gathered around her shoelaces where she slightly lifted the hem of her sun-yellow dress. Her long brown hair overhung around her lowered head as she undid and removed her ankle-high leather shoes. She was in a most vulnerable position. Was she bluffing? What would be my prospects if I attacked her? Not good. The Cossack horsewomen would swiftly catch up with me. Her father clearly liked me. This was a lucky break, without mentioning the fact I was getting intimate with his daughter. I chose to lay still and not spoil my good fortune.

But what about Sumeyye? I would most likely be officially reported as either dead or missing in action. Sumeyye would be allowed a monthly pension as per Soviet regulations, and since Rodionov was dead and no word would transpire about my changing sides, she'd be safe enough, even respected as an officer's widow. But she'd be grieving. I was the only man she ever loved! However, my high moral duty was to fight for the right side. Nastya! How could I not fight for her? Countess Hendrikoff had said, when we were together in a similar spruce forest, that without the nobility, the people would be lost without anything to dream of, like a rudder-less boat. She was right. And this was my chance to redeem my soul in the face of God. When the Whites would win, and I knew they would, then I'd come back to Sumeyye. Then perhaps I'd meet Nastya again.

Nadja finished removing her socks. I whistled as I saw her feet! I loved this dainty aspect of Nadejda! My erection sprung back to life upon seeing these feet with some earth highlighting the soft grace of her white skin.

"Now, slave, kiss my feet!"

I obeyed in absolute trance. I crawled at her feet and covered them with kisses. Feverishly! She sensed I was too obedient and ordered me to lie back and be still! The little devil! I rebelled. This was too much for me. She was bluffing about that sniper. How could I have fallen for such a cheap trick?

In an instant, I had grabbed her legs and caused her to fall down on the forest bed. She yelped with surprise. I was upon her! Now she was under me and I began to forced-kissing her and cupped one of her breasts through her dress and corset. "Get off me!" Nadja thundered. I laughed.

"You were bluffing about that sniper. Nice try! What?!"

Nadja had just whistled loud and sharp.

A heavy hand was upon my shoulder and someone very strong lifted me off Nadja. Next thing I knew, I was restrained amid two, no three thickly built men, tall men whose faces were olive skin with pitch-black mustaches. One of them punched me hard in the liver and I dropped to a fetal position on the ground while noticing the exotic aspect of their Ottoman-style uniforms. Turks!

"Don't hurt him any more, Ibrahim!" Nadja commanded. "He's got the point."

I sure did. There were four of these Turkish gorillas. And I was in a world of pain thanks to Ibrahim's powerful liver punch. As I slowly caught my breath, I was in no need to taste some more of the same. Each of these men looked as strong and powerful as Boris, in a taller Ottoman version.

"You deeply disappoint me, Ivan. You left me no choice but to call my lawful eunuchs. Meet Ibrahim, Mahmoud, Mustafa and Ahmet. All of them devoted to me. Now lie down and be still! I wanted to undress, but you need to earn the right to see me."

As she spoke, Nadja got down on me. Crouching down, she pulled my khaki trousers down my legs and freed my half-flaccid cock. I was a bit uneasy knowing her four eunuch guards were standing there, but her hands were firm and compelling enough, and her tongue was circling the head of my cock, which soon surged and became a mast of lust. She then sucked it just two or three seconds, long enough to give me a taste of what she was capable of, yet so short it was tantalizing.

She then raised her yellow dress and climbed on me. I felt her small weight against me, the inside of her thighs and the fabric of her petticoat while her hands got lost under her dress. I felt her as she grabbed my cock and guided it.

The penetration came. I looked at her fully clothed bosom and hated the fact that I couldn't see those perky breasts that tantalized me under her bourgeois dress, where a high top covered her all the way to her throat, with vertical white and gold stripes that seemed to mock me, barring my view while still hinting at glorious shapes that induced the urge to rip her clothes off and make her my bitch.

As her vagina imprisoned me inside her wet heat, as she began to move herself and whimper, I gently took her slim waist and took the whole thing in stride as we became one. I loved the feel of her. She leaned above me, reached further down and kissed me while imprisoning my face with the wild scent of her long hair as she breathed her whimpers into me, and I cupped her buttocks through her dress and petticoat while she further exerted herself on my impaling cock and her eyes looked into mine, hot-blue and wild, with lights of domination in them. "You're mine!" Nadja silently said through her powerful gaze as she whimpered into my own breath.

My hands got drunk with the sweeping curves of her ass. She was fucking me fully clothed, which was tantalizing to the utmost, and yet there was something powerfully erotic in this. This was my first time having sex with a woman who was still fully clothed. My hands nonetheless found their way under her dress, and soon enough, I was caressing her thighs, then the soft vastness of her ass! Her flesh yielded under my fingers! Her skin was so ungodly soft! Nadja was giving me her softer side and I loved this!

"You're very pretty, Nadja! I love fucking you!"

"Shut up, slave! I told you not to speak unless you're spoken to!" she replied while impaling herself on me. "And take those hands off my bare skin! You haven't earned the right yet!"

Not wishing for another encounter with Ibrahim and his fists, I did as I was told. This deflated some of my erection inside her. She must have sensed it, for she then said, "You may touch my bosom as you want, any touch on me through my garments is allowed. Now do it, slave!"

I experienced a wild revival of my strength inside her as I felt her breasts through her dress, through her corset! I could feel her heart racing as she began to moan long and in plaintive-sounding notes. "AAA AAAA AAAAAAAAAA YES! YES! Fucked by my own slaves! Yes! Oooohh! So good to feel like a woman--mmm nnnnmmm ooooohh!"

Her dressed breastshapes were dancing up and down as she now roughly bounced herself on me in short, urgent strokes, forcing my cock to a painful swelling against her walls as she opened her mouth and offered the face of a deeply gone woman, sweating under the sun and inside her dress as she burst inwardly and shivered on me, against my sides! "Yes! Yes! I'm oooh so fucked!" she purred amit urgent whimpers.

I grabbed her lithe arms, touching her through her long sleeves, and now, using her arms as leverage, I helped her in bouncing herself harder on my impaling cock... She exploded in a litany of moans that sounded like she was in pain. I caught sight of Ibrahim; he was smiling and licking his lips under his brigand's mustache. One of the other guards was kneeling on the ground as if praying Allah; he was kissing the sole of Nadja's foot, under her clothed butt while she climaxed on top of me!

Keeping my hold on her arms, I went even rougher and felt wild elation from being now the one in command of my strokes. Her mouth was wide open and she was in no shape to give any further commands. She was looking up at the blue sky and screaming her bliss! "AAAA AAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAA AAAAAAAA AAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAA! Bože můy!!!"

I was grunting and passed my edge! With the satisfaction of feeling her climax through my bursting cock.

I exploded inside Nadja in angry ropes loaded with revenge. How dare she order me around! She deserved to be gang-raped! Gang-rape! I kept repeating the word in my mind as I erupted inside her like a geyser of heat and anger! I was a slave who revolted! One of these days, I would get her! And strip her naked! And be the first of many men to have her!

Nadja remained in sweat, on top of me like the heated cowgirl she had proven to be, sweating inside her dress. I remained silent. Was she going to disrobe now to thank me for being a good slave? The scent from her sex and the fragrance from her hair floated in the air. Her thighs were hot against me. I felt her lovely feet against my skin and loved this! The four Turk guards were staring at her like boys in a candy-store. Her face grew hard as she looked down on me.

"Not so bad for a first time, slave. Now get off from under me and leave us! Go back there and report to my father. Don't try to run. My sniper will shoot you if you try to run."

***

Ivan Sidorov's thoughts (continued)

I held back my laughter upon hearing her bluff again. A sniper! My ass!

However, the four eunuchs who were with her were no bluff. Their fists were like steel and they knew how to use them. Swiftly putting myself together and picking up my peak-cap, I got going to the edge of the forest. I overheard Nadja with her eunuchs. I was strongly tempted to go back and spy on them, but what if she wasn't bluffing about that sniper after all? I looked everywhere among the tree-tops, especially the tall pines. I saw no one.

As I looked around, the breeze carried Nadja's voice to my ears.

"... Yes! Kiss me, Ibrahim! And you... take all my clothes off and take your reward! Lick me all you want! Suck my tits and make me yours! Ooohh oooh yes! Yes! Raped by my own guards! ... Aaaaah yes! Mustafa! Ahmet! Mahmoud! I love your licking tongues! Yes! Yes! Ooooohh Ibrahim your hands are sooo soo strong! SO STRONG!"

The little devil! What I'd give to see her naked!

Was it my imagination or did I just hear the impact of a bullet near me? Perhaps it was just a branch falling, or some fox or other small animal. I quickly walked back to the site of the Czech Legion's victory near the captured train, where the Colonel had stripped himself naked and was now raping Sonja from behind and kneeling, perhaps doing so for the second time. Sonja's pretty face was sideways and sliding on the grass as she whimpered in that quiet sort of unwilling submission I had seen so often in similar aftermaths of a battle. Her gaze met mine and I saw the contempt in her dead eyes. She knew I had changed sides. If she ever made it back to the Soviets, then Sumeyye would be screwed! But the risk was small; the Czechs would take her with them as sure as the sky is blue. Either this or they'd shoot her before leaving.

Upon spotting me, a few half-dressed Czech soldiers blocked my way, but the Colonel gave a sharp order and they let me pass.

The young ladies who had been pulled out of the train were still the fuck fodder of dozens of troops, each girl gang-raped in a grim carousel by a bunch of five to ten soldiers or more when she was really pretty. These were the daughters and nieces of Soviet officers or officials, all of whom were either dead or captive. Like all soldiers in the world after a well-fought capture, the Czechs had gone for the maidens first. They were the young spoils of war; spoils as old as the world.

The Cossack horsewomen were still abusing their power over the male captives, near the spot where the platoon of sodomite Czechs had been patiently keeping the inactive prisoners in check, all of these prisoners kneeling submissively. Their officer had chosen a handsome boy, who was now tearing the air with cries, his trousers down as the young Czech officer was sodomizing him, entering his true active duty. Bye and bye, the other sodomites shot the uglier men and began to rape the others.

The breeze carried a smell of urine from the ones who could no longer hold their bladder, or from the Czechs who simply peed under cars. The breeze also offered the iron smell of blood and a gentle whiff of carrion that would soon become unbearable. The train was echoing with whimpers and grunts as the female passengers inside were probably now all naked and subjected to all forms of abuse at the hands of the troops and the train staff who had turned against them.

I spotted Lieutenant Anika. She lay down, face up, looking up at one of the male prisoners, a young man dressed in black like a lawman, whose cock looked like a ghastly white appendix out of this dark outfit. He was masturbating above—Anika's bare breasts! She lay there with the top of her brown hussar's uniform wide open and her perky knolls of pale flesh bathed in sunlight! Her nipples were barely visible in this light and they had to be vanilla-pale. She was so hot!

Many other hussar-girls were similarly lying down with their breasts in plain sight. Cossack cavalry did not wear any corsets. Those girls wore nothing under their tunics, or perhaps some thin shirt. All their bosoms offered the softer side of the Don country; the cavalry's erotic side. The male prisoners were ordered to masturbate and shower those tits with their sperm. Each of the selected prisoners had a pistol on his head, a pistol held by a girl grinning under her busby, a German-style pelzmütze that was as black as the death these girls held in their dainty hand.

I caught sight of Rodionov's corpse where it lay face down. I walked to where Anika offered her bare breasts as a last favour to the young male prisoner, who presently reached his climax and gave a hefty load on her pale-nipple breasts!

"AAANNHHH NNNNNNNNNNNN NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!"

He had a lot! Anika was gorgeous under the sun, with this glistening gloss of pungent heat bathing her full tits along with the sunlight, her skin all the whiter against the brown curtains of her wide-open tunic!

I fell on my knees, and plunged on Anika! Her tits! I cupped them and began to lick them, uncaring for the vile taste of semen, which I progressively replaced with my heated slobber. Her breasts were swollen to a full average size, with softness upon girly-fat softness under my kissing adoration! My tongue met her pale areolas and circled them as my kisses brushed her nipple. I remembered her on horseback with her formal uniform as I tasted the gems that hid under her grey-and-brown uniform.

"Oh, you're the old officer who was with Nadja!" Anika whimpered as her fingers went through my hair. My peak-cap was long gone. "Will you please rape me, Sir? After all, you outrank me and... and I've always fantasized about being raped by a Soviet officer. I trust that Nadja has left enough steam in you to fill up my boiler! She's a bitch, isn't she?"

And on this, Lieutenant Anika moved herself and kissed me. I heard other male-sounding moans as some of her girls were also having their breasts coated with a dying man's pudding. Gunshots were heard. I looked and saw that the male prisoners, as soon as they were done with their ultimate ejaculation, were being shot through the head, carefully so as not to hit anyone with a stray bullet. They were the lucky ones. The few remaining ones were sodomized.

"Don't pay attention to any of this, Komroty. Just strip me naked and die inside me! Today could be your last day, Komroty. Enjoy life while you can."

Terrified by her words, I obeyed and she submissively let me take her grey trousers down her legs, then remove her long leather boots along with her blue woolen socks. Anika had a fascinating hair colour where it wasn't clear whether she was blonde or light-brown, especially with the sun making her long strands look like flaming gold offering a sweet caramel of life. Her pussy hair was likewise. I loved being the condemned man who was licking the cunt and the slit of an enemy female officer. This would perhaps be my last hurray.

Anika kept running her hands in my hair as I pleasured her. Her entrance tasted heavily like piss with notes of anchovy. No wonder, since the hardships of a military campaign did not offer much in the way of hygiene. I knew that the troops would soon be leaving as there was no way their Army Division could keep this region under control for very long. They would shoot any non-valuable prisoner and be on their way. Soon.

Anika rolled herself around and offered me the taut vastness of her butt! I covered her white buns with adoration as my cock grew stiff! She had the firm ass of a girl who had been active all her life with traditionally male occupations such as sabre rattling and horseback riding.

Not bothering with removing her trousers all the way and leaving them around her knees, I nudged the young officer to a position where she was on all fours. "Yes! Rape me, Sir! Do it good, long and hard and I might spare your life!"

The penetration was delightfully forceful! Anika was a nice girl, full of life. She deserved to be raped with force! Her tight butt was a wonder of Siberia! Its taut sunlit curves reinforced the slimness of her body. Her butt-crack seemed to radiate with her pleasure, and her intimate fragrance, as I took her waist and began to pound her in regular strokes as she moaned and rested herself on her elbows, propping up her curves as if offering me her butt in their best light she could. She could have made a good wife for me.

"Anika, you're very good to rape!" I said as I kept up my strokes inside her welcoming tightness. What pleasures would be had for any Bolshevik troops who would capture her and her horsewomen! Looking around me, I saw nothing short of a full-blown orgy where Czech infantrymen were now grabbing the Cossack hussars and urgently stripping them out of their uniforms. While she was getting fucked by me, Anika could also hear her own girls getting gang-fucked on the grass, most of them moaning under a well-built soldier whose bare buttocks urgently fed his thrusts inside her. Others let a Czeck fuck them from behind. A couple of them gave a man the full splendour of her tits under the sun as they became their own special cowgirl. Like Nadja had done for me, except they were naked, their boots and uniform and busby lying next to their ecstasy.

This while nearly all the male prisoners had been shot dead and their wives, nieces and daughters were given the privilege of tasting Czech cocks and the semen that came free. The meadow echoed with groans of absolute satisfaction as the "little Soviet tramps" became whores for the Czech Legion.

The Colonel was now forcing the curly blonde passenger into a face fuck where the maiden knelt in her naked splendour, with many spots of crusty dried semen. Some other young maiden, this one with dark hair, but also curly, kept feebly protesting amid a squad of Czechs who had lifted her up and kept her floating amid them as they took turns in eating her pussy while pouring vodka on her small tits that looked scandalously young in their sunlit show of broken-in virtue. She was still wearing her bourgeois gloves and kept calling the name of her dead father.

My cavalry lance did a good, long job inside Anika, whose low orgasmic groans I was fortunate enough to learn while enjoying the tautness of her full buttocks under my hands. Another good fuck! I was wondering whether I was going to relieve myself, when it came with a vengeance! I looked way up above at the cobalt sky, noticing a passing cloud as I screamed like a daytime banshee and thanked Anika with an enormous load of jism. All of it was spewed deep inside the cavalry officer! It was so God-damned good! A lovely death.