The World Championships

[Shocker]

Ah youth. 18 year olds are the same everywhere on the world, and likely throughout time.

[Claire]

I finally had time to read chapter 2. One standout line was this one here for me:

with the odd sight of her necktie obscuring her cleavage between a pair of superbly shaped orbs that looked like she could breast-feed the entire platoon!

What a groteque image. That is downright eerie,... very well done. That is how you describes boobs as big and make it memorable.


But to talk about the chapter at large... I really liked the entire recounting of the war scene. It sets the atmosphere just right. I almost felt bad for Daniel. Of course, its always worst for the women getting raped. But the thought of having your first time during war, your comrades dying left and right, and the sex you have is a rape you stumble into at least party due to peer pressure. That doesn't sound nice for a young man either.

Your chapter has one big weakness though. It's just too long and too unfocused in my opinion. If you had just stayed with that war scene, zoomed in on Daniel's first time, told us more about his hesitancy, the peer pressure, the guilt and then transitioned to him trying to absolve himself by caring for that girl as she's dying, this would have been so impactful. This could have been the favorite thing I read from you, by far, no competition. But the chapter just keeps tagging on things suchthat after some point I just thought: "Why is this still going?" Then you return to that war memory, Daniel holding the dying girl that lives in Mozartstraße. At this point, the meandering in between robbed this of the emotional impact it could have had, but it would still have been a strong note to end the chapter on. And then it keeps going again.... Sometimes less is more, and in this case, less would have bee so, so much more. And don't get me wrong, I'm not saying the chapter is bad. This is a good chapter. But this is a good chapter that could have been excellent from start to finish. I'm not bashing your writing, I'm lamenting what could have been here.

[HistBuff]

Note: This is just part of the previous chapter I decided to post as its own chapter.

***
The heavyweights always competed last of the last. They would start lifting at an ungodly late hour --- one o’clock in the morning, already Sunday. Yet the hall would still be jam-packed; nobody would leave without seeing the heaviest and strongest lifters in action.

After learning his own lifting would be so late, Daniel thought of going back to his hotel and take a nap, but he feared of being truly late and besides, he felt way too nervous to sleep. He asked for a good restaurant where he could eat a steak and at five o'clock sharp, he showed up there and learned that the French dined much later as the restaurant was just reopening, so he took an entrée of snails, Belgian style with garlic butter and herbs. Then he ended up eating a pair of juicy biftecks after a potato leek soup. All this with two baguettes of bread with much butter. And nothing but mineral water and coffee for drinks.

Later, he returned to the hall, which was now nearly jam-packed as the 148-lb lifters were mid-way through their pressing. It wasn't even time for him to get started on his warm-ups, by a long long way. It was only half past seven. It was a long, long and fidgety wait amid serious, anxious or confident lifters of all sizes and all skin tones and continents, but the vast majority were whites from Europe or North America.

He then realized that Nadia would be here soon with her husband---Yakov, his king-size opponent. But he kept his focus on his lifting. He was going to lift for himself and do his very best. He had regained all his lost muscle since he got back into training and then some. When he stepped on that scale, the sliding indicators settled at 251 lbs. Wow! He had competed while only weighing 232 in the Nationals. Before the war, the heaviest he had lifted at was 214. He felt really strong with all that extra meat on his frame.

At last, the middleweights had done their lifting and the 182-lb class was starting out on their Press, the first of the three lifts. He felt it was time for the heavyweights to start warming up. Daniel took his time when he found that his first attempt in the Press would be the third heaviest in a field of seventeen lifters.

It was now more boring than anything else. Daniel was a rookie at this level. A smiling British lifter told him to calm down as the light-heavyweights were still midway in their snatch. He better only start warming up when they'd be ending their Clean & Jerks since his first attempt was so high. But he had already begun and needed this to relax! He ended up spending nearly an hour making one single Clean & Press at 135 lbs every five minutes, feeling it like an empty barbell in his well-trained hands.

He listened to this more experienced lifter and only threw one 35-pound plate each side after he and the other heavyweights were invited to walk in a file on the stage, most of them wearing a dressing gown. Daniel's was a simple dark green one. He met a teenage girl's gaze and the red-haired schoolgirl grew shy and blushed. He looked away. Now he wasn't going to get started in robbing the cradle! He had already misbehaved enough as it was!

Like most of the lifters, he calmly hailed the capacity crowd --- probably three, maybe four thousands --- and he retreated backstage to take his warm-up where he had left. After realizing this was too soon to use more weights, he undressed the bar back down to 135 and did some more singles with this poundage while the less-strong pressers got started. Most of the lifters had a best press between 220 and 245. Daniel and the British lifter followed closely the unfolding competition as attempts upon attempts were made, passed or failed or disallowed, with the crowd clapping hands after each successful lift, and falling deadly silent every time a lifter chalked his hands and walked to the bar to take his attempt in the Clean & Press.

"The referees are okay. We can layback as long as it's reasonable," the Briton said as he walked away to take his first attempt at 232 lbs.

"Good luck!" Daniel bellowed above the humming press of lifters and coaches and journalists. But the Briton didn't hear him.

Daniel slapped those 35's back and began his serious warm-up with singles at 205, each flying up with ridiculous ease. Now Daniel was dead serious. On each single, he visualized himself succeeding with a monstrous 270. He had butterflies in his stomach! He didn't even notice the discomfited British as he walked back after failing all his three attempts at 232.

When an Egyptian called Geisa was called to the platform for his first attempt at 242 lbs, that's when Daniel put 225 lbs on his bar and made another easy single. This weight never felt so light. He was learning fast how mentally challenging it can be to compete by himself without a coach. When he'd be married to Zabel, she'd travel with him and be his coach and watch the lifting being done so she could inform him while his mind would be free to just focus on his lifting.

After hearing the thunderous round of applause for the big Egyptian, Daniel knew the big Egyptian had made a successful press. Growing more relaxed, the rookie lifter smiled and shook hands with Geisa as he walked back to call his next weight on the board. Daniel looked on as the clerk wrote "249" on the blackboard next to Geisa's name and near his own with "254".

While some Finnish guy went out on the wooden platform and failed at 247, that's when Daniel took his last warm-up single with 235, a weight he had done time and time again in training, close enough to his opener to make him feel a heavier weight, but not so heavy that it would tire him. Geisa then went out and took his attempt at 249. The hall grew silent, and the atmosphere began to shift as the audience knew they were now watching the strongest pressers.

A massive round of applause erupted. When Geisa returned from his success at 249 and got patted on his wide back by the great El-Touni before calling for 254, it was now Daniel's turn to lift since the first lifter to select a given weight always went first, just like a Sergeant went first inside the girl before the Corporal when a military gang-rape was done in good style.

Daniel had chosen his attempts realistically. In the Clean and Press, he opened with 254 pounds; the bar flew up overhead as soon as the referee clapped his hands for the “press” signal. For his second attempt, he made 269 pounds in good style, much to his amazement. He then called for another new Canadian record for his third and final attempt—a daunting barbell of 274 pounds.

The clean itself looked effortless. Daniel got the barbell on his upper chest, holding it as usual, just outside shoulder width, where he felt strongest. As soon as the ref clapped for the "press" signal, Daniel exploded and the bar got moving, but then it slowed down, but he squeezed and ground it past his forehead, through that dreaded sticking point; his entire body strained under the monstrous heaviness, but he held on and was able to keep pushing, his face in sweat and his big arms working to their utmost limit, now managing a slight acceleration as the barbell was now higher where he was more mechanically advantaged, and he gave it one last mighty push until he had this beast of a barbell locked overhead!

Yakov Kutziev crossed paths with him on his way to his own first attempt. Daniel met his death-cold stare without flinching, and he was even smiling, very much in a celebratory mood after beating by far his former in-competition best.

Yakov had overspent himself in training and he ran out of gas; he got his 275-pound opener passed, only to fail twice with 285 pounds. John Davis pressed his opener, 300 pounds, in perfect style and left it at that. Daniel saw that monster press and knew that nobody could touch the American legend on that day.

The competition moved on to the second lift of the trinity. Daniel began warming up for the snatch, again using 135 lbs. He didn't take anything heavier than 235 backstage, and this only for his last warm-up lift.

Daniel got on the platform to take his first snatch attempt, each side of the bar loaded with one 45-lb plate plus one 35-er and two dimes plus the large iron-cast collar weighing 5 pounds... a 255-pound barbell that he looked at with confidence—he had done that weight many times in training. He suddenly spotted Nadia. She had just arrived and sat in the very first row, only 30 feet away. Smiling and clearly enjoying herself.

She was radiantly beautiful in her Parisian dress, through which Daniel could perfectly make out her perky boobs and her alluring hips and legs, having no problem in imagining how lovely she must look in the nude. On top of that, the Soviet brunette was smiling at him with a gaze to die for!

Daniel was dumbfounded and tried to snap out of it, but he had only thirty seconds left to make his attempt. He missed! The bar had sailed high enough, but he mistimed his drop into a split stance and the black iron came crashing down with a resonating thud against the wooden planks. Two minutes later, he missed again! He just couldn’t concentrate! Another miss would leave him without a total and out of contention.

Another contestant had called for 260 pounds, so he selected that same weight, which got him extra rest time to rally if he could, while the other fellow lifted. He made it and the crowd stood on their feet with a deafening applause. This was a French lifter in front of his own public!

Daniel then came back, under warm cheers from the crowd as he chalked his hands. Then, the hall went silent. This time, he made a point to look high up above the capacity crowd in the music-hall. As he grabbed the bar, he thought of what John Davis had told him in the training hall… “Squeeze all the height you can get! Then drop under it like you mean it! Don’t think. Act!”

Daniel set himself in his starting position with fire in his eyes. He gripped and pulled that bar up like his very life depended on it. He never felt 260 pounds coming up so light and fast! The bar sailed so high that he didn’t have to go down into a low split --- his right foot stepped forward while his trailing leg took a moderate step back as he caught his successful attempt in a half-split stance; the public erupted in applause! This was the most powerful snatch they had seen up to that point. John Davis had yet to take his first attempt.

As he stood tall with his successful attempt overhead, Daniel tried hard not to look at Nadia again, but he couldn’t help it. She was clapping her small hands and cheering for him, her eyes shining with life! She looked gorgeous in her forest-green dress, and her straight raven hair was shining like a dreamy night. Daniel nonetheless kept his footing and got the ref's “down” signal and proudly set the heavy barbell back down on the platform with a victorious thud.

Only three competitors exceeded 260 pounds in the snatch—Egypt’s Mohamed Geisa snatched 265 pounds, Yakov Kutziev did 275… and John Davis nailed 300 ½! Daniel was in third place after two lifts, 15 pounds ahead of the burly Egyptian; 26 pounds behind the big Soviet. He had a sun-sized ball of excitement in him! He was in contention for the bronze medal! Perhaps even silver if one of the two top lifters missed all three attempts... Fate could strike with a loud thud during the Clean & Jerk event!

Everyone in the crowd was right at the edge of their seat! This was an amazing contest, the very first world championships since Vienna in 1938, and it was a resounding success!

The Clean and Jerk event went smoothly. John Davis easily jerked 358 ½ to win the gold medal after totaling 959 pounds for a new world record. Kutziev managed the heaviest Clean and Jerk on that night as he hoisted 364 pounds and got the fastest "down" signal ever, causing some boos to emerge from the dense crowd. Daniel offered him a handshake to congratulate him, but the Soviet colossus didn’t even look at him!

The Soviet powerhouse was utterly dejected with himself! He had come to Paris to beat the American champion and failed! He stood silent and sulky on the podium, one humiliating step below the Afro-American champion, John Davis who smiled under his thin moustache and hailed the Parisian crowd while receiving flowers and the victory kiss from a graceful Parisian brunette -- a kiss that would never happen in America.

Daniel had pressed 274, snatched 260 and jerked 335 for a total of 869 pounds, only two pounds behind Geisa and the bronze medal. He was beyond proud of himself!

The competition ended near three o’clock. He wanted to talk with Nadia, but she was buried in the midst of the Soviet lifters and their MGB watchdogs.

He accepted a glass of champagne from a white-gloved footman in the reception foyer. Now that the heat was off and the weights had settled and gone silent on the dusty, chalky platform, now he could allow himself a refreshment from Bacchus. As for Cupido, his mind was full of lust for Nadia, who was still too far amid the Soviets.

Perhaps this was a good thing. He set his mind on Zabel. He was going to telegram back home to tell them his results! He was also going to masturbate to Zabel's picture, perhaps picturing her giving him a marital fellatio until he shot his hot love on her Armenian face, gracing her lovely features with the gloss of love. Or her tits. This was the safest course of action for the young athlete.

This fourth place would be a good thing to attract new pupils to the gym where he trained in Montreal. He couldn't wait to get back home and celebrate with a Dow beer and a gigantic plate of smoked meat at his favorite delicatessen! No strength without good food. But all of this manly sense of victory paled in comparison of Zabel. She was going to be there at the airport and fly into his arms and they'd kiss. And now that he had a steady job, maybe he could convince her family, and his, to celebrate the marriage sooner. But Zabel loved him and in this, he was rich.

One thing for sure, Daniel would never forget his first world championships.

TO BE CONTINUED.

[HistBuff]

Ah youth. 18 year olds are the same everywhere on the world, and likely throughout time.

In the next chapter, we learn why Daniel is so especially keen to have sex with a girl of 18-19, beyond the natural element of physical attraction.

[HistBuff]

Your chapter has one big weakness though. It's just too long and too unfocused in my opinion. If you had just stayed with that war scene, zoomed in on Daniel's first time, told us more about his hesitancy, the peer pressure, the guilt and then transitioned to him trying to absolve himself by caring for that girl as she's dying, this would have been so impactful. This could have been the favorite thing I read from you, by far, no competition. But the chapter just keeps tagging on things suchthat after some point I just thought: "Why is this still going?" Then you return to that war memory, Daniel holding the dying girl that lives in Mozartstraße. At this point, the meandering in between robbed this of the emotional impact it could have had, but it would still have been a strong note to end the chapter on. And then it keeps going again.... Sometimes less is more, and in this case, less would have bee so, so much more. And don't get me wrong, I'm not saying the chapter is bad. This is a good chapter. But this is a good chapter that could have been excellent from start to finish. I'm not bashing your writing, I'm lamenting what could have been here.

Thanks! There could be a way to make this better and simply put the remainder in a condensed summary in the chapter after this. Those war memories were something I've added while rewriting that chapter, and this is why it's so long with weaker focus. This is rarely a problem when I first write from scratch, but this wasn't the case here at all.

This is a drawback when rewriting something. But there's a plus. This story was first written on a site that forbids any rapey stuff. And right now I'm not even sure as to who will get raped and when. So chances are the readers have no idea either. It was a good idea to have those war flashbacks and give the readers a couple of rape scenes early in the story. But there's no way I could call it a rape fantasy story without actual rape scenes happening in the present. But there's a simple rule... Rape can happen at any time and almost anywhere, by almost anyone. Terrifying, but true.

[HistBuff]

At half past four, Daniel got back to his hotel. No one was at the front desk, so he helped himself to his key, which was... gone?! Why would someone want to be in his room? But then, he suddenly remembered he had valuables there --- his cash reserve and Zabel's picture!

He ran upstairs to the second floor. Upon reaching his door, he found it locked, but there were sounds coming from within---high-pitched whimpers loaded with distress and pain, mingled with male grunting.

"It's your fault, you shouldn't go out and about by yourself at this hour at night!" a man's voice said.

"Aaahh aaaah hhmmmmm stop--mmfffffmmmmmhhhh..."

The girl sounded a bit familiar to Daniel. Marie?! Daniel took a step back and drove his shoulder and his entire might into the door! BAMMM! The 1870's legacy wooden door shook and gave clear signs of weakening when Daniel's shoulder struck it.

Ignoring the pain, Daniel gave it another go with even more force, and the door was flung open!

Daniel saw something he'd hoped he'd never see again. But there it was.

One member of the hotel staff wearing his brick-red livery was kneeling behind Marie, who was bent over the bed and whose skirt was down at her kneeling knees, with the white flash of her behind immorally exposed where the thin young man was holding the crease of her hips and had obviously been banging her while the other small guy, wearing the same livery, had been lying down on the bed where he kept his hand on Marie's mouth while holding her face down, half covering her and breathing right in her hair. Marie's eye turned toward Daniel and came alight with hope.

Both small guys' expression morphed from wicked fulfillment to terror as they saw Daniel, who recovered from the shock and walked right at them!

He grabbed the man on the bed by the scruff of his neck and then lifted him off her as if he were a straw doll. He hurled him through the door into the corridor where he landed with a thud.

"I... I can explain..." the other man blurted out as he put his juiced cock out of Marie and back inside his trousers. "It's not what it looks like... It's... It's... It's just a g-g-game... No please, Sir!!! NOOOOO!!!"

Daniel had grabbed him by the collar, and with all the strength from his massive frame, the Olympic weightlifter threw that little man out of his room, where he landed head first on the opposite wall.

He then turned around and looked at Marie, who began to bawl on the bed, in the same face-down, bent-over posture those morons had put her in to abuse her. Her buttocks were fully exposed---a pair of boyish buns with those slender curves that marked her as a girl. The paleness of her skin seemed to scream she just got deflowered. The hem of her crimson blouse made it look even whiter. Beneath her shadowy buttcrack, her cunt seemed to be waiting for his cock. Such curves that would harden any man's cock and morph it into a primal stick of life.

Seeing Marie like this filled Daniel with lust. Zabel probably had such a pristine butt. It seemed that every 18-year-old girl had the same alluring butt that nature specially designed to get men horny enough to fertilize her and thus keep humankind going. Why did life refused him the privilege of fucking so young a girl who had such a fresh butt? Softness his eyes caught and his fingers could touch just by looking at them! First his parents with the rules of religion and the absolute command of waiting until marriage, then fate had seemed to conspire against him getting sex with a true maiden. This wasn't fair! Didn't he risked his life many time over to do his duty for his country? Then he ought to have this privilege. He had the right! He had won the war so he had the right!

Daniel shut the broken door as much as he could. Then he spotted a sideboard and picked up the massive piece of furniture, another legacy from the 1870s made of pinewood. He carried it as if it were cardboard and used it to block the door. Then he walked to Marie.

"Oh, Daniel... I... I want to be alone! Please go away! Go away!!!"

Marie began to cry anew. Daniel understood she was hurt in her pride. But Daniel didn't leave. He knelt down behind Marie and put his hands on her already-violated buttocks. He circled them around their contours... Such pristine curves! Shaped a little bit like a heart...

"Daniel?! No!!! No! Go away! Get off me!"

But Daniel didn't go. He unzipped his wine-red suit's trousers and liberated his hungry erection!

"DANIEL!!! DANIEL!!! NO!!!" Marie yelled as she felt his cock when it gently tapped her bottom. "N--MMMMMMMHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

Silencing her with a pressing hand, Daniel pushed himself inside Marie's already cummed-in pussy. He felt the polluting sludge where he pushed and strained and he understood that those boys were probably taking their second go inside her, as he groaned in bliss upon ramming his erection all the way inside Marie! For the first time, he was inside a teenager!

Keeping his hand pressed on Marie's mouth, Daniel began pounding her with savage glee. It was a silent, brutal rape where Marie's muffled whimpers answered to Daniel's moose-like grunts.

"Yeah! A teenage girl! For the very first time! I know she's just 18! In this case I know!" Daniel thought as his pleasure quickly multiplied inside Marie's reproductive tunnel, wherefrom mankind had multiplied through eons.

"Yes, a teenage girl! For the first time! Oh, fuck! This is so God-damned good!"

Daniel felt an insane rush of elation as he kept realizing he was indeed fucking an 18-year-old girl. The nurse he had raped in Normandy was about 22. The others he had fucked in Germany were always in their 20s or 30s, sometimes even older. The fuck he was the most after had always somehow eluded him. Not this time! This night was his! He was finally forcing the hand of Fortune!

"HHHHHHRRR! HHHHHR! HHR! HRR! HHHRRRR!!! Those boys are right! You--hhrr! You shouldn't be out alone, in-hhhrrrr, in... in those wee hours!! It's your fault! Oh, GOD!!! This is good! YEAHHHH!!! Good little French tramp!!! HRRR! GOD!!! Yeah! Yes! Yes! YEs!!!! AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGHG!!!!"

Marie's tears rushed down and bathed Daniel's hand as she received his massive eruption and her muffled whimpers doubled. Daniel lost track of time and space as he felt those raging bolts of semen go out of him and get lost inside her womb. He was vaporized by the explosion of delight! It left him with watery legs and out of breath. In a state that felt close to death. But in the absolute joy of life.

"Ohhhh... Oh, Marie... Oh, Zabel... Sorry Zabel! This is so good to be inside... inside you... Sorry... I... I couldn't help myself..."

Daniel remained there, covering the crying girl, his hand still on her mouth, still bathed in her tears. He felt her sobs and loved being so close to her. Maybe she'd ended up enjoying this. Maybe she'd forgive him, right?

After maybe five minutes, he realized what he had just done. He had raped again!

***

Daniel got off Marie. He began to look for her torn clothes, but realized she still wore most of them. As she slowly stirred and turned herself around, now reclining on the bed while taking hold of her forced-down skirt and awkwardly trying to slide the black fabric up to her waist, Daniel caught sight of the black triangle of hair between her flashing pale thighs. He spotted her funny-looking navel and also saw most of her small breasts in the gaping space offered by her torn red blouse. Her nipples were very pale and tiny, increasing her small body's air of youth.

She looked at him with that mix of fear and hostility one sees in a cat cornered by a hostile dog. Daniel found her torn panties amid the fading pattern of beige and tawny flowers adorning the old carpet floor. He picked them up. He wanted to give her her panties, but she threw them in his face.

"What do you think I need them for now, you big stupid pig! Now I'm getting out of here! And I thought you were a gentleman! That's how simple I was! I came here to surprise you! I wanted to wait in your room and you'd have found me on your bed upon your return from your lifting..."

Marie spat out those angry words as she hastily got herself together again, as much as she could. Most of her blouse buttons were gone, but she had an overcoat, a lovely off-white overcoat, which she found lying on the floor with her purse.

"Give me that overcoat! My shoes are just there. Give them to me!"

Daniel did all she asked. He easily deduced what had taken place. Marie probably arrived at the frontdesk and said she was his girlfriend and asked for his room's key, and the scoundrels had taken advantage of her being alone. They probably agreed to take her to his room, stating some bullshit regulation or something, and then it must have been easy game to just push her inside the room and lock the door behind them. And then she was raped. And raped again... By him.

He sat on the bed, tears breaking loose as the realization took its full grim weight inside him. He was a no-good brute! A hoodlum! A ruffian! He had broken his promise not to rape again. He reached out for Marie, who awkwardly stood up now that she was inside her pumps. Those were thick-heel pumps that looked stylish. He noticed the remnants of black fish-net stockings on the fading carpet; they had been torn and obliterated by those scoundrels; they told the story of kissing mouths all over her legs and feet. Even her garters had been destroyed. Marie seemed to have put on her sexiest outfit, just for him. And how did he thank her for her trouble? He raped her.

Marie recoiled from his touch.

"Don't you ever touch me again! I don't want to ever see you again! I'm ruined! Ruined!"

After collecting her purse, Marie shakily walked to the door, but it was blocked by the massive sideboard Daniel had put there.

"Get this out of my way!"

Daniel saw her like in a dream, through the deforming prism of his tears. She stood there, small and shaky next to that dark piece of furniture there was no way she could move in the state she was in. This was an opportunity that could go both ways. He could slightly redeem himself, or keep her a prisoner and use her again.

Taking a look at the mirror above the washing basin, Daniel spotted Zabel's picture. Zabel's figure seemed to dance beyond the veil of his tears, her face looking angry, looking directly at him with dark eyes that seemed to tell him he was a no-good hoodlum and she'd never be his wife.

"Whoever she is, you don't deserve her! Be decent and break off your engagement! She deserves a better man!" Marie barked, pointing at Zabel's picture. She had obviously followed his gaze.

"Now get this off my path so I can go back home!"

Daniel came alive. He sheepishly obeyed and easily heaved the sideboard away from the door, acting as if he had always been Marie's slave.

Marie walked out the door. Out of his life.

She was right. He didn't deserve Zabel.

Left alone in the now-silent room, Daniel remained sitting on his bed. He eyed the sideboard, where he had left some sandwiches and a bottle of mineral water as a late-night snack for himself. He didn't feel hungry. But maybe eating would still do him some good.

He looked at his watch. It was only five minutes to five. So much had happened in so little time! He had probably remained inside Marie for no more than a couple minutes. He had felt so horny! So extremely hungry for just having his way and yes, ejaculating inside her! His very first time with a teenage girl. It had come with a life-altering cost.

Daniel had only to gather his belongings and call a cab. He would then wait at the airport, then take the sixteen-hour-long, painfully tumbling flight back to Montreal. He could even go take a swim in the Azores during the two-hour stop. The weather over there was still warm enough for this. He could just take the plane and go back to Montreal and leave all this filth behind him. He could go back to Zabel and nothing could logically prevent him to wed her.

But Daniel knew that from the moment he lay his hand down on Marie's bottom with ill-intent, he had lost Zabel for ever. He was the unwilling passenger of a black train that took him away from her. Zabel was left at the station of Sainte-Agathe. She was in a forested heaven, wearing her swimsuit at the beach of Lac des Sables, in a world he no longer had access to. He was being whisked away from her by Fate. And there was nothing he could do about it.

He was stuck on a train. And the devil was the engineer.

TO BE CONTINUED.

[HistBuff]

Suddenly, a knock on his door broke the stillness of his hotel room.

It was Nadia! She looked ghastly white and kept peeking over her shoulder. Daniel took a look behind her and noticed that both footmen were gone. He let her in and closed the door, or wanted to close it, but it was broken. Of course it was, silly him! He remembered the sideboard, and feeling someone was after Nadia, he slid the heavy piece of furniture back where it blocked the door.

“Daniel. Take me with you to Canada!” Nadia said, grabbing his arm like a half-drown girl gone overboard would grab a lifeline.

Then a loud voice filled the hallway. Thundering in its commanding masculinity! That man spoke Russian. Daniel recognized it. It belonged to the human wall named Yakov.

Yakov was already at the door and he gave a mighty shove that pushed the heavy pinewood sideboard back. He stepped inside the room, his eyes ablaze with murder as he saw Daniel with his wife.

But Daniel faced the Soviet colossus and he put his boxing skills to good use. He made short work of the towering Soviet, who had no training in boxing; he even felt Yakov’s jaw break as he landed a devastating hook that nearly broke his own right hand!

Then he heard footsteps. More than one man were running to his room! Daniel remembered the two MGB agents... "Where we go, they go," Yakov had said. It must be them. Yuri and Sergei.

Daniel lifted the sideboard and forcefully shoved it into the broken door, making it stick in the casing. He then swiftly lifted the bed and shoved it against the sideboard just as those men got at the door. He then grabbed his jacket and his hat --- there was not a moment to lose!

While those MGB agents stupidly yelled at them and banged at the door with their fists, Daniel urgently opened the window and told Nadia to get out and onto the emergency stairs on her right while he took another massive piece of furniture and squeezed it hard against the door, before kicking Yakov unconscious as he had begun to stir on the floor. He heard the agents cursing in Russian as they started bashing the door. He also further squeezed the heavy piece of furniture against the bed, effectively blocking the door and gaining precious time.

Then there were gunshots! "POW!!!" "POW!!"

They sounded astonishingly loud inside the building. Daniel's war-trained ears recognized the sound of a pistol. He even heard the impact of the bullets as they hit the wall near the window after going right through that door.

Daniel swiftly climbed down and reached the emergency stairs while Nadia was almost down in the backyard. They took to their heels and heard Sergei’s voice a bit too close than they would have hoped. Nadia knew that Yuri was getting his car and would soon cut them off.

They sprinted through the small streets. As they reached a boulevard, a taxi happened to be there; a lucky break. They hailed it and hopped in.

“I got money to pay,” Daniel told the driver, a little man who felt quite intimidated by his customer’s unusual size. “Drive us out in the country. Take us as far as you can go. I’ll give a really nice tip if you drive fast!”

The taximan stepped on it. They were soon going through the city's outskirts.

“Nadia, I think we should go to Calais for…”

“Shhh! Don’t say anything in the taxi!” Nadia whispered as she leaned against him in the backseat. “Our pursuers could find that driver and interrogate him. The point now is to put as much distance as possible between us and Paris.”

“Don’t you think we’ve lost them?”

“No. They got their car and are still after us. These agents are really good, Daniel. Following a taxi isn’t that hard for them. And they know the roads around here. They've thoroughly memorized the roadmap before flying to Paris with us.”

"Well," Daniel replied as he looked at the brunette's gracefully small figure, "If they're so good and so smart, why did they stupidly hammer my door with their fists instead of going at it full steam ahead between the two of them. They would have got us then!"

"I... I don't want to think about it... I... I think they did it on purpose."

"On purpose?! Why?"

"Because they... they want to catch up to me in the open country."

"But... What for... Why give themselves the trouble if they can end the chase right now and then?"

"Daniel, you've been in a war and you're no longer a child. Think a bit and you'll understand why they'd rather catch me in some remote place in the country."

Nadia was trembling as she snuggled against his bosom. She smelled so divinely good! Her hair! He'd do anything to save her! He'd already risked his life for her. Twice.

Daniel couldn’t stop looking at her against the car window at the early light of dawn. Daniel was under her spell! Then he felt tears welling in his eyes. Zabel! He had left her picture at the hotel. He had lost Zabel!

He felt he had lost control of his life. The life he had led up to that point no longer existed. Everything was but a dark avenue loaded with mystery. And Danger.

The taxi made a lot of turns and by-turns in country roads and trails, in order to lose the pursuers. Where was he taking them? Did he had some farmer friends who would love to beat the hell out of him and then gang-rape Nadia? Daniel felt a strong erection grow underneath his trousers, so near her! He felt the hard-on as his mind played Nadia's protests and shouts... "Niet! NIIIet!!!" as the cab driver and his farmer friends would rip her blouse open and brutally bunch her skirt up where they'd get an urgent round of intimacy inside her. He loved the thrill of that fantastic possibility, but didn't wish it to happen for real. But what a sweet fantasy!

The driver refused to drive without headlights. He stopped near Soissons about what felt like a two-hour drive. He wasn't going any further. He told them to follow a trail through the woods, directly to the north. They would reach a small town after a couple of hours of walking. There was a train station. He said he had some family in these parts. Farmers. He smiled at Nadia and clearly loved her eyes and her figure. The sun was way up by then. Nadia's tits would be so cock-hard erotic under that French sun! They were civilly encased inside a white blouse, which was encasing a sober bra the seams of which could be noted, and her blouse itself was glamorously encased inside a sombre raspberry-red jacket that looked a lot more American than Soviet. She no doubt had bought it in Paris.

So her rape would just be Frenchier, Daniel thought as he watched her getting out of the cab, not missing a single motion of her hips and her civilly skirt-encased buttocks---her hourglass figure was petite, yet surprisingly wide when seen from up close. The perfect figure of a 20-year-old girl, except she was deceptively older. Perhaps as old as 35 from the way she tended to treat him like a boy.

***

As they got out and Daniel paid the driver, Nadia screamed as she saw a fast-approaching car. That black car was bringing death. It was them!

They took to their heels and had nearly reached the trail that wound its way into a thick forest as the pursuing car came to a halt. Sergei and Yuri pulled out their pistols and fired at a distance while the taxi driver spun some dirt and drove away.

Daniel and Nadia ran for their lives without looking back. They sprinted through the forest with the agents in hot pursuit! Daniel had the overwhelming feeling of playing a character in a movie. Except there was no director about to yell, "Cut!" Only agents that were keen on cutting him down. Then rape Nadia. Of course.

They reached a clearing near a gothic church. It was in ruins, with ivy growth greening its granite walls. They found themselves running across an antique churchyard, where they spotted two young lovers, who gazed back at them like people seeing ghosts.

Daniel shouted and motioned at them, telling them to run away! Both youths looked at him dumbfounded.

The agents reached the churchyard and took their pistol shots at Daniel, who quickly took cover behind a tombstone, near Nadia. He ordered her to lie down and stay hidden behind a mausoleum.

“Don’t come out under any consideration. If something happens to me, run for your life all the way north. Don’t cry, Nadia, be strong!”

The MGB agents closed in on the young lovers. The girl screamed. The tall men in black wearing black fedoras held the youths at gunpoint, but one of the agents, Yuri, started arguing with the taller one. Their Russian-spoken quarrel resonated through the quiet churchyard overlooked by autumn-bronze oaks mixed with copper beeches.

Daniel couldn’t leave these kids. He had to help them! Doing otherwise would be evil. Using his infantry training, he stealthily moved from tombstone to tombstone and made his approach as the agents were still having their heated exchange while holding the youths at gunpoint.

Their loud shouts and snarls allowed Daniel to get very close, unheard and unobserved; only the girl saw him. She suddenly spoke to her boyfriend, who stared at her in alarm.

“Non, Geneviève, ne fais pas ça!” Daniel heard the youth say. (No Geneviève, don’t do this!)

Then, the local girl did something completely unexpected. She raised her sweater and grabbed her bra, but then she blushed and looked down, stopped by the force of her morality just as she was about to raise her clothes and undergarment all the way up, but she didn't. Daniel found himself hypnotized by those small hands. He would have loved so much to see those boobs! This girl was no older than Marie. Marie... How evil was he!

The Soviet agents had stopped arguing. They walked right at the pair of youths. The one with the crooked nose, Sergei, said something and Yuri laughed. Yuri suddenly grabbed the 20-year-old country boy and smashed his face with the butt of his 9mm Tokarev pistol. His girlfriend or fiancée screamed for a split-second before Sergei silenced her with a pressing hand on her mouth as he grabbed her and began groping her breasts with his free hand while her only protector fell on the ground with a knock-out thud.

The girl tried to shake the large man off her, to no avail. Daniel saw the terror in her eyes as Yuri, a man whose shoulders and frame were every bit as large and powerful-looking as his own, advanced on the 100-pound girl and he violently tore her jersey and then snapped her bra, making a clear show of her youth as her firm breasts materialised in plain sight with brown nipples that got hard quickly under the morning breeze, while the girl began to sob, begging them to please let them both go.

Sergei laughed as Yuri took over. Yuri slapped the girl and pointed his gun at the fallen boy, making her understand that if she didn't want any further harm to come to her boyfriend, she'd rather be a good girl.

Yuri then had no trouble in putting the girl into a bent-over position while Sergei roughly bunched her skirt up and with a sickening growl, he ripped her panties and cleared the view on a spectacular pair of buns, soft in their vastness, juicy and inviting in their paleness. Sergei's hand profaned her beauty as he then unzipped his trousers. His erection came jutting out of his black outfit, ghastly white and sickening. Daniel was frozen in fascination as he watched.

He ought to stop Sergei from raping the girl, but he realized that he wanted to see it happen. It was like in a slow-motion dream where everything happened so fast it was already past while still happening.

The girl let out a pained yelp and bitterly sobbed as Sergei punched himself inside her, moving in a way that told Daniel's experienced eyes that he had done this before. No doubt he had raped some German girls, perhaps in Berlin itself, when the Soviets rolled all over East Germany with absolute vengeance, raping the enemy's women by hundreds of thousands.

The girl's sobbing were answering Sergei's grunts and his forceful pounding as he perhaps took her virginity. Taking that precious wedding night away from those young fiancés. Destroying their plans for a loving future with each of his savage thrusts as his eyes glowed with lust. Nadia was right. They had purposefully chased them into the country so they could rape Nadia upon catching her. Those agents were human. Very human.

Sergei lost a large load of frothing slobber through his open mouth as he let out a sharp groan that echoed in tragic notes against the venerable oaks as he emptied his balls inside the sobbing girl. He then pulled out of where he had filled her up from behind where she stood bent-over. He was visibly proud of his deed as he grinned at Yuri and invited him to take his turn.

The country boy had been stirring a bit. "Geneviève... Geneviève, non! C'est trop affreux!!!" (Geneviève, no! This is too horrible!)

Sergei took his own pistol and held the boy at gunpoint and forced him to watch as Yuri was now kneeling behind the girl, this Geneviève. She was down on all fours now. But he changed his mind and forced her to lie down on her back, where he gleefully began to suck her breasts while the boy was crying out loud and forced Sergei to knock his lights out with a stiff blow from the butt of his Tokarev. This while Yuri had rolled Geneviève over and began to avidly lick and kiss the fabulous display of her butt! Her buttcrack in broad daylight looked exponentially more surreal with the Soviet agent sticking his kissing mouth on those white buns while still wearing his fedora.

Daniel looked on, his cock painfully hard and silently screaming for a relief. He would have partaken right now if those evil men had invited him to join in. He had never felt so powerfully horny! He couldn't help it! He felt this was an insane show of abuse and domination! He loved it in spite of himself! Yet he despised those men doing it. And he despised himself too. No, he clearly didn't deserve Zabel.

He didn't do anything when Yuri positioned himself on top of that girl, her dark long skirt bunched all the way up her waist as she lay flat on her stomach on the forest earth amid the churchyard, and then the big Soviet inserted his communist cock and un-democratized the girl, who bitterly sobbed as he began to take his tight pleasure, banging her buttocks while covering her as if he were protecting her from the blast of a grenade, moving his pelvis only in a furious rhythm as he filled the place with his odious grunting, while the poor girl kept sobbing and whimpering under the massive invasion.

Sergei had pocketed his pistol and was turning his back on Daniel as he looked on. Daniel's Army instincts resurfaced. It was now or never!

Sergei never saw what hit him. Daniel had picked up a stone and smashed him behind the head, holding nothing back. He fell with a thud. Daniel quickly went into his pockets and pulled his Tokarev pistol just in time, just as Yuri had become aware of what was happening and pulled out of Geneviève, awkwardly reaching for his own pistol while his cock exploded and gave a rain of Soviet sperm on the French girl's spotless bottom! It glossed under the sun. Yuri's eyes shone with terror.

The large Soviet in his black outfit was still on his knees. Daniel looked at his thick legs and felt deep regret to be killing a fellow lifter, but he didn't want to take the risk to come any closer to a professional killer, and he shot Yuri through the head.

Geneviève's white butt got splattered with much blood as the big man fell.

The girl was shocked. She remained there like a statue as Daniel stood with the smoking pistol. The gunshot had troubled the peace in this quiet countryside. The girl was shocked. She remained there, on all fours, her buttocks exposed, still smeared with pools of rancid shimmer and blood from the dead man.

Sergei was still down. Motionless. So was the country boy. Daniel stood there. He was now the master of the spoils. All he had to do was to kneel down behind that girl and take her pussy. Make her his. That girl drew him like seawater was drawn to the Moon. He knew this was going to be a high tide.

He knelt down. "No! I must not! I can't do this!" His hand had already landed on the softness of her butt.

"Daniel! Come! Leave those youngsters! You saved them! Stir up the boy and let's go!"

It was Nadia's voice. She was kneeling by the boy, who was still alive and stirring, but very feebly. But then footsteps were heard. Voices too.

"Daniel! We need to leave quick! Quick!!! The countrymen will kill both of us if they find us here like this! Quick!"

Daniel snapped out of his erotic trance. He chose a clean spot on Geneviève's butt and landed one farewell kiss on her alluring skin, then he pocketed the Soviet pistol and took to his heels, leading Nadia by the hand as he ran.

Just moments later, two country men emerged and found the unthinkable scene, where Geneviève was still in plain display, her buttocks exposed and her skirt bunched up to her waist. And topless. Both farmers were armed. One had a rifle. The other had an axe.

The one with the rifle knelt by the country boy. "Henri! Henri! What happened?" he said as he stirred the boy from his half-unconsciousness.

"Men... Men in black!" Henri blurted out as he feebly pointed at Yuri's corpse and Sergei's body.

If Sergei wasn't dead yet, he was done for when the other farmer struck him with his axe and split his skull, making another bloody mess amid the churchyard.

Then the horror hidden under every day's seemingly quiet life unfolded.

With his eyes half-closed, Henri witnessed Geneviève's rape at the hands of his two neighbours. Each one of those farmers took a short-lived, intense turn of sperm blasting inside the 21-year-old country girl. They just couldn't help it! Why should they let her marry a boy who was one year her junior? This wasn't proper! She belonged to older boys!

So they reasoned themselves in doing the unspeakable as they lived out for real their wildest fantasy involving Geneviève. The first one took her while grunting almost like a braying donkey, plowing her deep until his semen made a meaningful run of milk inside her.

The other one decided to rape her anally. And scream she did! The priest was stirred from his bed. He quickly got dressed and showed up just as the second farmer was filling up Geneviève's lower intestines in a faithful attempt at impregnating her turds.

"Shame on you, heathens! Shame on you! For to Hell you will go for this!" the Catholic priest told the farmers, who took to their heels and ran.

The priest took Geneviève inside his presbytery. He also came back for the boy and dragged him inside, then he called the doctor. He knew the doctor was a 20-minute drive away. He also knew that his 25-year-old niece was going to knock on his door any minute now. She was bringing him a fresh jug of country milk.

As soon as she was inside, the priest looked at her in a way she found weird and unsettling. He took the milk jug from her, and then he assaulted her! It took her five seconds to realize she was being forced-kissed by her uncle Richard! The one who had been compelled to enter the Church so his family name would be kept in high regard by the country folks.

"Oh, Agnès! Agnès! I've always dreamed of you! Agnès!!!" the priest said, ignoring his 50 years of age as he covered Agnès's face with the kisses of a 20-year-old lover while his hands searched and found her boobs through her country dress.

"Uncle?! Stop... Stop this, please... No..."

"Agnès! You have no idea how much I've been secretly wanting this! I would have loved to marry you, Agnès!"

"No, stop! This is preposterous! Nnooo..."

Agnès felt a rush of heat inside her. She'd always liked her uncle Richard. She had no idea he could do something like this. She wasn't scared. She felt immensely uncomfortable, and it felt so wrong! This was incest! But he was so urgent! So forceful! It had been at least a year since her husband had been so keen on her!

She kept saying no, kept protesting, but she felt her breasts swell under his touch. Through her clothes! He presently pulled one side of her dress top and carpet-bombed her shoulder with kisses upon uncovering it! He was so horny! And truth be told, it felt good to be in his arms.

"Uncle? You want me?" Agnès blurted out as he voraciously unbuttoned her dress and landed kisses upon every inch of cleavage he uncovered.

"Yes! Yes! Agnès! I want you! Let me take you in my arms! I'll carry you to my bed!"

She let her uncle carry her in his arms. This was a first since she was a little girl. But now it was very very different. She liked him. Always had. She wasn't sure when she had begun secretly lusting for him at times. Definitely late in her teen years, when she grew into a full-fledged wife and married young. Only to get raped by Germans with her husband cowardly watching without doing anything about it. Then, when the pair of feldgrau boys were gone, he had beat her up for being a bad wife, before forcing himself on her.

If her own husband could rape her, then she could sure as hell cuckold him thanks to her uncle's contribution to France's next census. Thus, when he put his niece on his bed, Father Richard found a surprisingly willing girl who began kissing him back.

Once he had taken all her clothes off and she his clothes off, he had a wonderful tour of her young, tight body, from her dark-golden hair to her feet, and learned for the first time what the nipples of a girl tasted like, and what it was like to hold her breasts in his hands. And then he remembered the doctor was on his way.

He fucked Agnès with her on all fours, from behind, holding the crease of her hips and just banging her alluring charms like fuck bumpers, like he had always dreamed of, before bombing her womb with a priest's semen!

He was still breathless and naked when the doctor knocked on his door.

"We'll do this again, Uncle, won't we?" Agnès said, smiling as she quickly got dressed back.

"You can depend on it, Agnès!" the older man said as he put his soutane back on while the doctor kept knocking on his legacy 1850s door. To each year its fresh semen.

The good priest would then agree with the doctor and young Henri to keep the secret of what had happened to Geneviève. Henri would find a reason to marry her sooner than planned in case she got pregnant. But Henri no longer wanted her! She was polluted! So the 55-year-old doctor, who was a widow, took upon himself the daunting task of becoming Geneviève's husband. He was a good man; he didn't complain.

Geneviève was so scared of losing her reputation that she readily agreed. She would thus become the well-off, but not-so-happy wife of the ageing doctor.

***

The crows, sparrows and bullfinches that had flown away from the gunshots returned to their abodes and resumed their day, now undisturbed as both agents lay dead in the churchyard while Daniel and Nadia resumed their trip through the forest.

“Daniel, I… I need a break… Please, let us take a short rest,” the Soviet girl said after two or three miles under the sun.

Daniel was on Nadia before she knew it. He absolutely needed to fuck her good and hard! Her tits! Under the sun!

"Niet!!! Niet!!! Prekrati!!! Ni maguu!!!" (No!!! No!!! Stop this!!! I don't want to!!!)

Daniel didn't stop! He had morphed into a beast and he was as strong as a bear!

"AAhhh yeahhh!!!" he shouted as he ripped her white blouse open and her undefended bra came into view as she covered her bosom with her folded arms.

"Niiiet!!! Niiiieet! Не делайте этого, пожалуйста! Ne delayte etava, pahjal'sta!" (No!! No!! Don't do this, please!)

Nadia kept protesting in Russian, but Daniel easily overpowered her. He kissed her by sheer force, thinking he could coax her into wanting him inside her, but she tried to fight him off and began clawing at his face, so he slapped her hard and she fell down on the ground.

He then pinned her under him and with a savage grunt, he obliterated her bra and engulfed one of her tits in his mouth while squeezing the other one in his hand. Ahhrr! Those tits under the sun! At last! At last!

In his mind, he pictured the agents catching up with her and doing just this! Sucking her tits before raping her good, long and with punishing strokes!

"So you want to go West, eh?" the Canadian said as he looked at her from between her breasts. "Well, it's gonna cost you! This!"

"AAahhhhh, Niiiet!!!" Nadia sang, high-pitched, as Daniel undid her belt and slid her skirt from under her butt, sliding the dark raspberry-red fabric along her legs and uncovering her stockings before getting the bunched skirt down at her ankles and using it to entangle her as she lost her pumps in the struggle. The sight of her stockinged feet got his cock in a near-painful state of urgency. This was going to be good! Real good!

He rolled her around and her panties smiled at him. He ripped them off and kissed her suddenly naked butt as she bawled. Such a fresh expanse of flesh on so small a girl! This was the magic body of a girl right there!

"Shut up! Shut up! You're my own Bolshevik whore now! Shut up! If men hear you, they'll come and they'll rape you too! So shut up! Shut up and enjoy your first Canadian cock! Little tramp!"

Nadia stopped bawling. She bitterly sobbed as Daniel nudged her on her knees and elbows and kept returning to her butt, worshiping it with caressing hands that explored its sensual contours. She was his now! Then she heard the unzipping sound and opened her mouth into a silent scream of terror. He truly meant to rape her! Such a nice-looking kid!

"Daniel... I... I liked you... I would have let you do this to me, maybe tomorrow!!! Please stop... I'm... Not in the mood for this now..."

Daniel didn't listen. When he pushed himself inside Nadia, the seasoned rapist he was now found she was wet.

"Not in the mood, eh? You're a liar! Just a little lying tramp! And you need to be punished. Like THIS!!! Ahhh God! This is so fucking good! RAPE! RAPE! Juggernaut! I'm a Canadian Juggernaut! Unstoppable!!!! HRRR... HRRr, HRr HRrr HRRR Hrrrrrr!..."

Daniel began pounding her. At last! Her pale buttocks looked so ungodly peachy under that forest sun! She had a long buttcrack that gave a touch of outré to her nakedness as she took the steady beat of his strokes, each one heavier and more brutal than the one before, or so it seemed to him. Oh boy! He loved doing this to her! And he was going to as often as he'd want!

"You're my bitch! My bitch now! You'll do everything I say! Then you'll get to England! Deal?"

"Niet!"

"Deal, I say! Anyway you, hhaahh, you don't have much choice in the mmhh nn ahh God you're tight! You don't have, hrr, much choice, hrrrhh!!!"

And the rape went on to its brutal conclusion where Daniel looked up at the undisturbed sky and screamed his bliss as he ejaculated, very forcefully, in urgent and long bursts of seed, his eyes filled with disbelief. What an amazing fuck she was! Raping girls was so much fun!

He let himself fall beside her, keeping a caressing hand on her stockinged leg as he panted hard, slowly regaining his breath.

"Thank you, Ma'am! You're a very, very good fuck! The best I've ever known!"

"Ge get bent!"

"Fuck you too, bitch! You can expect more of the same! And trust me, if you run, you'll only run in the arms of farmers who will be all too glad to gang-rape you. So it's up to you. Do you want just my cock? Or several?"

"Daniel? Why do you have to act like this? Think about your fiancée back home!"

"Leave her out of this! Now, to punish you, here's my gun! Suck it!"

As he spoke, Daniel produced the Tokarev pistol taken from Sergei. He moved its barrel close to Nadia's mouth.

"Suck it, I say! Suck! Let's see how good a sucker you are, Bolshevik girl!"

Reluctantly, Nadia kissed the pistol's barrel and gave it a shy lick, recoiling from the dark, cold iron upon touching it.

Tears flowing down her eyes upon realizing the terrible mistake she had made in trusting the handsome Canadian, Nadia closed her eyes and began to suck the Tokarev pistol. Daniel prompted her to give it more heart, and eventually her beautiful little raven head of long loose hair was bobbing and bobbing on, her figure in a kneeling, submissive position where he could see most of her small tits through the torn, button-gone opening of her violated blouse as she sucked on.

"Yeah, now that's a nice spit-polish! A Bolshevik girl giving love to a Tokarev pistol, now you could make some good money in giving this show! Eh, that's a sound idea! I'm a little bit short in cash, and we're gonna need money to take the bus and cross into Belgium like you said."

"Mhhh mhhh... I... I've got some money..."

"No dice, girl! I think you forgot your purse in the cab! Looks like you gonna be a whore for the next two days, for me, AND also for paying customers."

"No! You can't mean it!"

"I absolutely do! I haven't had so much fun since the war ended. I'm sorry, but I can't help it. Now if you please, Ma'am, my cock still has some semen on it. I need you to lick it clean! Do all I say and you're going to reach England no problem."

"I... I need to go to Canada, with you. Canada."

"Well, then, you've got a lot of sucking to do! Get going!"

"Y... Yes..."

And sobbing, her heart heavy with sorrow and a stinging sense of betrayal, Nadia began to lick Daniel's half-flaccid cock after he stood tall.

As she licked and lapped with her tongue, he gently stroked her hair with one hand while pointing the gun at her head with the other.

"I don't want to know you got teeth, understood?"

"Y... Yes..."

"Now it's getting hard again. Get to work on it! Well? What are you waiting for? Go! Suck!"

The next few minutes were a Russian-girl paradise blowjob. Clearly, Nadia had a LOT of experience in doing this. Those strokes of her tongue spoke of a great many occasions where Yakov growled or grunted in absolute ecstasy and relieved himself inside his wife's mouth, or on her face.

"Good Lord! Bolshevik tramp, you smoke the cigar like an absolute dairy queen! Ohhh, Gosh! You're good!!!"

Daniel got very close to a second eruption. He pulled out and elected to rape Nadia again, this time with her under him and with her legs propped up, but before, he went into the trouble of completely stripping her naked and then, he took a royal kissing tour of her entire body, filling his nostrils with the scent of her. All of her. He especially loved the scent of her feet with country dust on them spicing up her milk-white skin.

It ended with him grunting like a rutting buck on top of her with her legs pinned under his dominating arms and her bare feet pointing up toward the blue heavens. She was now submissive and whimpering, sobbing too as he gently rocked her and made the pleasure last as long as he humanly could, until he...

"aaaaaaaaaYYuuhmmmmmnnnnnnnnnnnnnnddhhjjdgghhhMNNNNNNNNNN!!! Ohhh!"

The load was MASSIVE! Why did this Russian girl draw so much sperm out of him? How old was she? Daniel had to know!

He pulled out of her and as the naked Soviet girl balled herself in fetal position and started to bitterly cry, Daniel rummaged her things. Inside her elegant suit jacket he found a small wallet. Beside two bills of 50 Franks and some odd change, he found her passport. It was bilingual, Russian and English.

"Nadia Kuziev. Green eyes. Black hair. Attractive. 1 m 55. 44 kilos. Born, 22nd July 1915."

Daniel looked at her gorgeous nakedness and couldn't believe it. She was 31! More like 21.

He went back near her and began caressing her again. He ignored her feeble attempts at stopping him. He wanted her tits!

After rolling her on her back, he religiously contemplated the most erotic softness he had ever seen on a woman. He had always felt that a girl’s breasts summarised her erotic personality - Marie’s were playful and dainty with raspberry-like nipples on pale areolas; Nadia’s were perky with glamorous curves and wine-brownish nipples. Zabel’s were still unknown.

He stooped down and began kissing her left nipple, a nearly perfect bead on a light-brown areola, while he gently cupped and caressed the wild softness of her other breast as Nadia’s unreal whiteness yielded under his hand. She began moaning amid her sobs and feeble groans of unwillingness. It was clear she was sensitive there, that her body liked being touch there.

Daniel was doing something horribly wrong and selfish. He knew it. He still couldn't help it. No, he didn't deserve Zabel. The colour of her nipples would be for a better man.

After much, much nipple rimming and ample slobbering of Nadia's petite breasts, Daniel finally felt satisfied. He ordered and helped Nadia to get dressed again and off they went through the forest trails, not very fast since Nadia was now getting blisters in her feet.

TO BE CONTINUED.

[HistBuff]

They didn't get much farther on that day. Daniel was getting tired and eager to sink inside Nadia's Bolshevik pussy again. Nadia was positively exhausted, and the looseness of her blouse attracted quite a few looks and raised eyebrows when they got to the small town of Garrot-Loup (Wolf-Withers --- the French also makes a pun meaning "beware the wolf" = gare au loup).

Daniel was a bit taken aback. There aren't motels lining the highway in France in the same way you find them in America. After asking some old fellow who looked like he was one with the very town, Daniel got directions to the nearest hostel, which was also the French version of a pub where old friends would gather to drink wine and gossip while playing checkers. Only men hung out in that place. Local women seemed to avoid it like the plague. Daniel saw why. Nearly all of those men were ugly or at least unkempt. Most were middle-aged, thanks to the war having killed a great many men in their prime years.

As soon as they walked in, the young "couple" felt all eyes on them, especially Nadia. She knew full well that all those men, ages ranging from 30-and a few more to 70-plus, were eye-raping her. She could feel the mental burn on her too-exposed cleavage. It seemed to remain too exposed, giving far too many hints at the shapes of her orbs, and revealing her bra-less status, no matter how much she tried to keep her button-less blouse closed, no matter how much glamour she hopelessly tried to gain back from the elegant tightness of her dark raspberry jacket---She only succeeded in showing a scandalous amount of cleavage while showcasing her hourglass figure by tightening her belt. In a nutshell, Nadia looked like a whore trying to look glamorous.

"Nice-looking dame!" a grizzled man said, his heavy drinker's nose nodding at her as he took stock of her assets.

"I hope she doesn't cost too much. I'm no Rockefeller," said a man in farmer's clothes.

Daniel smiled as he heard the remarks. Nadia was on the verge of tears. He walked to the frontdesk and was greeted by a small old man who briefly nodded back at him and put a German-looking monocle on his right eye as he took a keen look at the raven-haired girl whose head didn't reach any higher than Daniel's shoulder.

"Is she your wife?" the landlord asked.

"Uh... Yes, she's my wife."

"Then where's your ring?" the old fox replied, pointing at Daniel's left hand which he had put on the counter.

"I dunno, must have lost it in the forest or something."

"Come on, you can do better than that. Well, you do look like one who walked through the woods. I noticed the smears of earth on the knees of your pants. You seem to have done lots of mushroom examinations or something else. And how about you, young lady?"

Nadia didn't answer.

"Well, it's your lucky night. We have two vacant rooms, and one has a small shower. The lady clearly can use a shower. Young man, you can have the other room, and I strongly advise you to get your girl some new clothes. This is a small, God-fearing town, and you have no idea what the folks here are capable of when they get angry at someone or something. The stores open tomorrow at nine. Now, a hundred Franks per night and per room. Thank you! Here are your keys." (110 Franks = about 1 US dollar)

Five minutes later, Nadia was taking a hot shower and wishing she was back in her comfortable apartment in Moscow near her husband's lifting club. Daniel was in the hall drinking a glass of wine and asking questions about bus and train schedules; normal stuff a tourist would ask about.

The townsmen couldn't help but notice the prodigious size of his shoulders, especially after he took off his oversized jacket. He asked about supper, said he was hungry, only to be told it was still only 5 o'clock and it was France and in France people didn't sup; people dined and never earlier than 7.

"Lamb leg on the menu, with perhaps a little extra tonight," the landlord said, sharing a knowing smile with several men who were playing either cards or checkers or just talking, mostly about this lovely-looking brunette they had just seen. Her skin looked so ungodly soft! The guy with her was a dirty lucky devil!

A stout man in his forties sat opposite Daniel while taking off his jacket and rolling his sleeve.

"Young man, nobody here's ever beaten me in armwrestling. Are you up to pitting your arm against mine for a wager?"

"What wager?"

"If I win, you let me have sex with your wife."

"She ain't my wife, and I'm tired."

"So, you're a yellow belly, Canadian boy? I've always said French-Canadians are yellow!"

"All right all right! Let's have it! But if I lose, you let me watch and it will cost you 500 Franks to do her. Deal?"

"Deal!" the flat-nosed, wide-faced portly man said as he put his elbow--as big as the average guy's knee-- on the table that squeaked in protest under his formidable weight.

Daniel felt curious to feel such a massively built man against his own strength. This was going to be a fight of natural strength vs. trained strength. He felt he was still going to prevail as he put his own right elbow on that wooden table and a small, compact circle of onlookers quickly formed around the pair of armwrestlers.

When the stout man grinned and grabbed his hand, Daniel felt he had seriously underestimated his opponent. The landlord gave the call...

"Go!"

It felt like trying to bend a two-inch thick steel pipe! The stout man was freakishly strong! Daniel strained and did all he could, but his 18-inch arm was forced lower and lower... Daniel wasn't trained in armwrestling and he was quite clueless about how best to channel his power into such a contest, but he had his pride. He fought back like a lion. Pearls of sweat appeared on his tensed forehead as he gave all his might into his straining arm while the onlookers watched in silence after taking wagers.

Daniel managed to regain some ground, returning nearly as high as the starting position while his huge opponent strained. But Daniel was getting tired, and he lost the regained ground and then some more. The contest was now reaching its key point. Daniel felt a savage erection grow as his mind pictured this beast of a man bucking Nadia. He felt the stinging pang of defeat as fatigue and his opponent got the better of him and his forearm landed flat on that table.

"Winner!" the old fox said, raising his friends arm. Cheers from those who had won their wagers. Curses at Daniel from those who had lost. One of them called him a big spineless pudding. Daniel let the insult slide, his cock tensed in keen anticipation of what he was about to witness. Nadia! She was going to be the butt of this joke.

The stout man smiled amid is big fat face.

"Now! The girl's mine! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

*****

"Niet! Niiiet!!!" Nadia protested in the thick arms of his new admirer who French-kissed her against her will and violently pressed her naked body against him while the shower was still running.

Daniel stood near the door and watched, a raging erection pushing his trousers, as the winner of the armwrestling contest took his prize. He was thrice her size and fifteen years her senior.

Nadia got slammed onto the bed and the big man made her almost disappear under his mass as he spent quite a bit of time in the act of sucking her breasts, ignoring her protests, slapping her when she got too annoying and restraining her wrists with playful amusement whenever she tried to claw at his eyes with her fingernails.

Daniel locked the door behind him and began to masturbate as he watched the improbable encounter between the Moscovite, fashionable girl and this big-ass peasant. His big hammy hands were violating her bawling breasts, shaping their sensual paste at the will of his lust! His slobbering tongue rimming her brownish-wine nipples got really high-pitched squeals out of Nadia.

The unfair contest ended with the stout man showing his large hairy buttocks after lowering his trousers and sinking inside the squealing girl. The bed suffered a leitmotiv concert of squeaking for the next few minutes as Nadia whimpered and cried under the fat pig, who finally came to the proverbial conclusion... "NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNHH!!!"

"Thank you, cuckold! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" the stout man told Daniel as he walked to the door, still in the act of putting himself back together.

Enraged, Daniel grabbed his shoulder and with power and purpose, he forced his rival to face him and he hit him square with a straight right!

"This is for my pride! Now get out of here!" the young man said as the big man fell down on one knee, groggy and looking at him in shock. Daniel saw fear in his eyes.

After the local strong man left, Daniel turned on Nadia.

"No, niet! Please, pajhal'sta! Not again! Not again!"

"Yes, again, little tramp!" Daniel said, angry to have got beaten and feeling she'd make a good scapegoat. "Now get on your hands and knees! Now!"

Seeing she wasn't complying, Daniel took off his leather belt and made the gesture of using it like a whip. Nadia suddenly got alive and positioned herself on all fours, illuminating the room and making it surreal with the light-filled gracefulness of her Eve's outfit.

"That's better! Remember, Soviet bitch, you do as I say and you get to Canada no problem. Now I need a good fuck!"

After climbing on the bed and kneeling behind the naked girl, Daniel lowered his trousers and let his strained cock rest on her tight, round buttocks as a way to both humiliate her and enjoy his dominance. He then penetrated her and gave her a new round of butt-pounding sex, holding the eternal crease of her hips and enjoying the smell of her showered body as his face sweat on her and the bed kept creaking.

Once he had blasted his load inside her, Daniel told Nadia that dinner was to be served at seven and she better look her best. After all, he had his dignity.

On his way to go back downstairs, Daniel heard the sounds of a couple having sex through a room's door. He stopped and listened. The woman sounded young. She was saying things such as, "Ahh, amore! Oh Dio mio!!!" Daniel understood this was the young Italian couple he had seen at the front desk just after him. The young wife looked like a lovely teenager, and typically Italian with olive skin and jet-black hair. Probably from the South. Reggio? Napoli? She had struck him with her grace and made him think of a Roman girl he had in his mind when he learned Latin and tried to read Ovid's Metamorphoses.

The newlyweds were having it plump against the door, which now vibrated with each one of the husband's young strokes. She was whimpering. Daniel could picture her wrapping her legs around him as her naked back kept buffeting against that old, sturdy door of durable oak. Then the husband exploded... "HHMmmmmmmmmmmmhh Non è possibile!!! Ahh, Maria!"

***

While Nadia was under a second and much-needed shower, which soon turned cold and had her swearing in an expressive brand of Ukrainian, Daniel had returned downstairs, where he told the men that whoever cared to pay him 1,000 Franks would have one go inside his girl. The men bargained some, but Daniel could see the all-consuming lust in their eyes. The deal was struck at 900 Franks per go, making Nadia an eight-fifty whore in US or Canadian currency.

When Nadia showed up at dinner time, she had nearly a dozen men between 35 and 70-plus years old devouring her with their eyes. Most of them were old chaps playing checkers or canasta every night without any hope of ever getting inside a damsel again unless they paid the girl. 900 Franks for such a gorgeous girl was actually cheap. Daniel mentally made the multiplication; 11 men paying 900 each amounted to 9,900 Franks, which was more than enough to get him across the Channel and into England.

Her blistered feet were killing her! So Nadia had decided to swallow her pride and come downstairs barefoot in her much-damaged stockings, under her relatively unscathed skirt with her bosom encased in what was now the one and only true vessel of dignity she had left--her undamaged jacket... with her hopelessly loose blouse showing too much of her bra-less cleavage. The inviting inside slopes of her orbs were marked by fate to be gazed at by old men. There was a whore in the place, and a pretty one at that.

Those male gazes never left her the whole time she ate. The landlord refused to serve her again when she asked for some more. "But, I'm starving!" she said. But no, the old fox wouldn't hear of it.

"Take your time and chew slower, young lady. Don't worry, I'll serve you some more after the party."

"Party? What party?"

"You'll see. Now eat and take your time. And if I were you, I'd really take my time!"

The men laughed at the landlord's last words. It was a sinister sort of laughter.

Nadia suddenly stood up and bolted to the front door, but she got caught by two local men who kissed her face.

"Where do you think you're going, young lady? The party's here!"

"And you're it!" said the other man as he groped her ass.

"Ni! Ni nii nii niiiihhiii!" Nadia, repeating "no no no" in her native Ukrainian, bawling as she broke down and the men all pressed themselves around her while Daniel watched, grinning as he ate his second helping of lamb leg with pommes de terre rissolées.

"Take her upstair! We can't risk someone seeing this through the window!" the landlord said as he held her ankles and caressed the small tenderness of her feet as the whole pack of over-excited jackasses carried their piece of Russian meat upstairs, where the small bed was to get called for a lot more squeaking duty.

Daniel didn't bother this time. He grinned as he kept eating and drank his wine--his meal was on the house, with an extra bottle of beaujolais red wine all for himself. He fell asleep while hearing the squealing and the bawling from Nadia amid the men's jeering fury. He didn't need to watch the scene to see it.

He could easily picture those ugly ageing men stripping themselves naked and showing Nadia the proud girth of their erections before sinking inside her and take her from behind in what soon turned into some buttocks-tapping contest to see who could get the roughest inside the petite girl who had such a funny R-rolling accent. Her Soviet pussy was put to good use by the French proletarians. They all sweat like pigs as they hit their point of legs-watering delight, revelling in her exotic-sounding whimpers and protests.

As he fell asleep, the young war veteran pictured each of those men taking their turns inside her and using her as they liked, most of them either taking her in the missionary style or doggy-style so they could let their devils loose and blissfully fill her up with country-bred semen.

That old fox wore a monocle, and Daniel could see him lose it and the round piece of glass fall from his eye in the supreme moment when his grip tightened on her hips and he exploded deep inside her, just like Daniel had seen a British Major do when raping a German beauty bent over her dinner table, with Colonels and Generals watching after having had their own turns first. That girl was named Gretel; she had dark hair and she was also known to have won a beauty contest in London before the war, when she was just a teen. So when the Allied captured this Bavarian town, the top brass set their claws on her. It would remain General Montgomery's best-kept secret sin.

In his last-ditch attempt at remaining awake, as he emptied the last glass of his now-empty bottle of wine, Daniel heard a second woman protesting... "No! Nooo! Non ne hai alcun diritto!" Her voice broke, full of panic, mixed with something he couldn't get his mind around... But he was so sluggish and tired! He blurrily understood that those old men had found some pretext to burst inside the room where the Italian honeymooners were staying. And they were now gang-raping this youthful wife that looked so typically south-Italian.

He half-dreamed of her striped pajamas getting roughly pulled from her suddenly seen charms, her tits jiggling and her nipples shocking in their brown profanation, under too many hands from men who were way too old for her, and the fascinating vastness of her pale-olive bottom getting revealed to those yelling, grizzled or balding pigs before they put her to their fleshy swords. Something she'd never forget. After going through the entire war unscathed, the newlywed girl was now getting "it" in a way she could never foresee. Fate.

***

When Daniel woke up in the middle of the night, he remained sitting in the now-silent and dark hall and did some thinking. With those two agents gone missing and soon to be known as casualties, the Soviets were bound to send other agents after Nadia. They would quickly deduce she was in this small town---the nearest and most obvious place she would have gone to.

The earliest train started for Paris at 5:15. One man had told him. From Paris, he would take a train bound for Brussels. He'd pay more and travel first class, so he would be alone with Nadia in a compartment. He smiled at his decision. His pursuers certainly didn't expect him to double-back to Paris. He looked at his watch at the faint light from some street lamp beyond the window. It was only five past three.

He then heard someone or something stirring in the stair. He saw a pitch-black mass and terror gripped him. A ghost! But that creaking from the steps meant the apparition had weight. A black cat? As the figure got nearer, he saw it was a girl wearing pajamas. The black mass was simply her long hair. As she got closer in the faint light, Daniel noticed that her pajamas was in very bad shape, with almost no buttons remaining on her loose top.

The Italian girl looked at him with some unfathomable expression.

"Non dire nulla..." the newlywed, newly raped girl said as she got rid of her top and gave her a full-on view on her blossoming tits. Why was she doing this? Why on earth?!

Daniel didn't have a clue as to her reasons to act like this, but he found himself on his knees with his kissing mouth getting acquainted with her youthful pair of breasts. She had some respectable size, yet not to the excess. She smelled like roses with notes of vanilla. Perfume.

She let Daniel strip her completely naked. After which she got down on her knees and gave her his first Italian spit-polish in this eerie half-darkness, and the slurping sounds from her efficient mouth came out incredibly loud in the still of the night. A powerful statement that she was a willing cheating wife.

Daniel sat back on his chair and nudged her into facing away and sitting on his lap. This is how he penetrated her. It was amazing! Fabulous! To see her perfect hourglass figure, to feel the eerie softness of her skin under his hands at her waist, bathed in this ghastly light where her olive complexion looked uncanny pale. And she was bouncing on him, gently whimpering each time her buttocks crash-landed on him and she impaled herself on his oak-branch prick.

She arched her back and tightened her legs on each side of his legs while he cupped her tits from behind and felt their imprints inside his hands. So preposterous to feel this stranger like this! He loved the absolute disregard for moral and social rules. He felt the spasms inside her as she came, her swollen breasts inside his hands, and then he had spasms of his own as he erupted like a mad geyser inside her, each shot of his semen trying to angrily pursue the one before and beat it in a contest of height.

They then remained like this for a while. A long while, listening to the silence as their breathing steadied. He even did her a second time a bit later. No words were spoken. For some reasons of her own, she felt unextinguishably horny. Daniel did her with her face sliding on the tabletop, from behind like he loved this so much! His low grunts seemed to caress her as he bumped her against him like a jungle king!

As he took his high pleasure inside the Italian newlywed wife and felt once more her orgasmic spasms trying to choke his cock, Daniel thought of the 1936 war in Ethiopia. He pictured an Ethiopian army gaining a surprise victory against a whole Italian division and a bunch of them rampaging the field hospital and gang-raping the Italian nurses! And now he imagined he were some Ethiopian powerhouse stud in the blissful act of bucking a nurse from behind, showing her how strong and stiff an ebony man could be!

He pictured the all-powerful cock! African! Inside the white girl! Her Italian protests! Her sense of crushing shame! And this big pillar of a black cock ravaging her! Making her truly tropical! So sweet! Unreal! An African juggernaut! Unstoppable! Rape Rape Rape!!!

"AAAAAAAYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRGHGGH!!!"

Daniel's cry broke the night's stillness as he victoriously ejaculated! So strong! He fell down on his knees and found his face pressed right against her butt! An Italian wife's... Italian wives could be so scandalously young! He loved this and kissed her butt, over and over, but she got moving.

Before he knew it, she was gone.

***

When it was time to leave, he carried Nadia out of the hostel and put her on a bench once they were at the train station, where he paid their fare from the money he had made by selling her to the local pigs. It was still dark at this hour. It is only once he was on the train, amid other passengers, that the sorry state of Nadia struck him.

She had spots of dried semen all over her face, even in her dishevelled hair. Her elegant jacket still saved the essential dignity in her looks, and she was half-dazed, half-asleep between him and the window as the train steamed from Soissons to Paris.

Daniel suddenly realized that he could go to his hotel and recover Zabel's picture and the rest of his small belongings, but he thought again and knew this would be a bad idea. The police would have been there, his things searched, etc. The Soviets most certainly had painted him in a very bad light to the authorities, probably claiming he had kidnapped Nadia, which would be surprisingly close to the truth. He was a scoundrel indeed! A certified scoundrel. Why did France had such an effect on him? Yes, the blame was on France! It wasn't his fault! Something in the air was to blame.

The only thing he could do now to reclaim some of his dignity would be to faithfully help Nadia in getting to Canada. She was dying to get there for reasons unknown to him. Poor girl! Those local men must have roughed her up pretty badly.

Once at the station, Nadia needed to go to the loo and Daniel had to help her all the way there, attracting shocked gazes as people noticed Nadia's indecent state. People still didn't try to stop them. Daniel's size was a strong deterrent.

There was even a policeman who came to inquire, and Daniel thought he was done for, but the smiling French cop recognized him as one of the weightlifters he had seen in action 36 hours before. When Daniel told him he had gone for a picnic with his wife and things had got unplanned rough, the cop didn't check his ring finger; he laughed and went about his business.

After buying tickets on one of several trains that went to Brussels every day, Daniel sat and relaxed. He bought croissants and coffee. Nadia wouldn't eat. Once alone with her inside his compartment, Daniel left her sleep there and went to fetch some breakfast in the restaurant car. And this was how the rest of the trip went. Nadia remained lethargic. He would bring her food and she would eat a little. He would no longer harm her in any way, as he felt guilty for the ordeal he had made her endure in France.

In Brussels, he shopped for clothes while she was still recovering in the hotel room he had taken. He knew her measurements pretty well by that time, right down to her shoe size. He bought her a very neat royal-blue outfit, complete with a matching round hat. And brand new pumps that went along with fishnet stockings.

"Well, Nadia, it really becomes you!" he said as his lovely companion tried her new outfit, with a faint smile.

Nadia looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes half dead, half excited. She then looked at Daniel with a mix of contempt and empathy.

"If only you were a better man, Daniel, if only..."

Her eyes looked at the double-sized bed she had been sleeping in for the last couple of days, while he had taken the couch. Then she looked back at him, and Daniel cried. He broke down in tears as he understood.

There was never any need for him to force himself on her! There had been a need for more money, and yes, her beauty was an easy way to make quick money. Nadia had accepted the possibility of getting used by men for money; she had been ready to go this far, but what really hurt her was the way Daniel had taken his own liberties with her. There was the rub.

As he fell down on his knees and blurted out how sorry he was to this girl whom he had so vilely taken advantage of, Daniel understood. She would have freely given herself to him while in Brussels. He could even had married her. But now... She would always look at him with contempt in her eyes for what he did to her. No matter how sorry he felt now.

TO BE CONTINUED.

[HistBuff]

Daniel enjoyed the situation. Very much so. He was in power. He could do whatever he wanted with this Soviet girl who had acted as if she were miles above him in that music-hall when he did his lifting while she sat in the front row, tantalizing him with the shapes of her breasts under her evening dress, with a lovely view on the same cleavage he was now covering with slobber as she lay on that hotel bed in Brussels.

She wasn't resisting. She knew she had to be the whore unless she wanted to get caught by the Soviet agents, flown back to Moscow and be made an example by being sent to Siberia for a while, after an off-the-files gang-rape where she'd be learning the difference between country Frenchmen and Russian-cologne-smelling State-approved tall men in black suits. Or soldiers. Being sent to military barracks to get gang-raped wasn't unheard of as punishment for women who defied the Party.

So Nadia let the big-arms youngster have his way with her. Daniel was 21 and full of steam. He loved his power and no matter how guilty and sorry he felt after each time he forced himself on her, he still went and did it again, because it felt so God-damned good to spew an epic load of swimmers inside her!

Two days, three days went by in this hotel room. His dough was running low, but he had a lovely dame and meals brought up. There was a basin where he washed Nadia himself and learned the delicate intricacies of her intimate geography. Only a husband ought to know she had a tiny birthmark just at 10'o-clock a half-inch off her navel.

The best part was the softness of that navel when one kissed that silky skin with both hands on those marvelous tits that were neither too small nor too large; just a perfect fit for a man's hand. There was an equation of squared-circle mystery in their orbs that kept eluding Daniel no matter how long he kept petting and kneading them. Why was he so drugged by her charms? He always felt he didn't know her good enough. He knew he had to snap out of it, and perhaps betray her and deliver her to the Soviets and a dark fate just to save his soul. But he couldn't. He just couldn't!

What was the best part for him? Undressing her was pretty much at the top. There was nothing like opening that blouse and pushing the bra up to see this small expanse of ivory skin kiss his eyes with those rose nipples that weren't so pale after all, once his eyes recovered from the yet-again surprise of seeing such perky-perfect tits. And she was already 31. What she must have been like at 18? Yakov wasn't as stupid as he looked with his ape-face after all. He was her husband!

Kissing her everywhere had to be right there on top. Daniel did this for hours on end while Nadia just lay there and tried to sleep, or else she pretended he wasn't there. But Daniel eventually got bored, even from doing this, and this was something the vast majority of men would give their right arm to do.

And what about the sex? Which way did he like better? Which way drew the most syrup out of him? The burly Canadian lad loved to lay on top of her and show her who's boss, pounding her fair and square until his steam blew out of his ears and he filled her up while silently screaming in the nape of her neck, and sensing how much she hated him!

Doing her with her legs all the way up and her feet by his face was also tops. It was really something to have Nadia like this, naked in his arms with her pussy never failing to quickly make him erupt out of control, and he couldn't wait until he'd be married so he could do this to Zabel.

But the cake went to doing it stallion-style, from behind, with her down on all fours and her gorgeous butt tapping away against him as he fed her a relentless barrage of deep strokes! Yes, if he had to choose just one position to use for the rest of his life, it had to be this one. Watching that body part bouncing on him with that ever-moving display of pale skin was the very thing that made him understand why he loved so much to rape; getting free touching and visual access to this body part he normally was only allowed to guess through her dress or skirt. This was priceless. So soft and full to the touch! Those buns gave him extra horsepower and it was during such a slug-fest that Daniel experienced his most wicked-strong explosion ever!

The room's walls shook as he screamed his bliss and gave Nadia ropes of semen, long ropes that seemed driven by the eternal will to procreate and make sure her womb have more than enough. Two billion people on this earth didn't seem to be enough. Pussies had to be fed more for more mouths to feed. So many people had died during the war.

"Oooohhh, yes! Ooh, Nadia! You're my best girl ever! Ooohh, this is so good!" Daniel blurted out as he remained kneeling behind her, still inside her after he enjoyed the bliss to its tiny last drop. He felt weightless as he contemplated the scene... The new polo shirt he just bought her lay on the floor where he had ordered her to "shut up and raise those little arms, Soviet tramp!" Her brand-new black skirt lay right there next to it and next to her fish-net stockings along with the rest of her garments and undergarments.

She had protested, begged him to please not violate her again, but as usual, she quickly became submissive as he devoured her half-naked charms, then her naked beauty with his ever-more avid lust. Another night went by in the same way as the previous one.

Daniel had lost the count of how many days had gone by. He thought of his folks back home. His mother! How worried she must be now! And how broken-hearted she'd be if she ever learned what her youngest son was capable of in the line of violence! His father... How angry he'd be, and yet relieved, upon learning that he was sound and swell, that he just went astray for a couple of days, because... because France and Europe are just so grand... He had to make up a story. Something that could be believed and put on his youth.

And what about Zabel? In truth, she was the losing party. How was he going to be able to look at her in the eyes now? How was he going to tell her he no longer wanted to marry her? That he didn't deserve her? That she was meant for a better man? She was still so very young! She'd be all right and make a wonderful wife and the best mother and housewife. Just not his.

***

Next morning found Daniel gone on an errand, leaving Nadia at the hotel. He knew she wasn't going to try to escape. She had nowhere to go except back in USSR. She didn't know a soul in the West! And he had also taken her passport with him, for good measure. Leaving her alone and penniless and waiting in their room. So let her go to the Soviet embassy in Brussels! After all, he already knew her inside out and he would be all right with her leaving. Or maybe she'd go to the King of Belgium and beg for a refugee status; let her do this too! He no longer cared. And yet he did, for he loved her butt.

His steps took him to some hybrid place that lay somewhere between the boxing gym and the lifting club. He went in there, smug under his brand-new fedora hat and feeling shielded from the crowd of commoners under his new raincoat that offered the same sand hue as he thought the Sahara desert was under that perfect cobalt sky where he had never set foot.

The place was filled with cigarette-smoking busybodies and would-be athletes, most of whom strained under weights that were puny toys and warm-up bars for Daniel. In the middle of it all, he found the king of the place, a man about his height and size who stood proud beside some old globe barbell that looked heavier from being black.

"This baby weights 250 English pounds. I'll give 5,000 Franks to anyone who can lift it overhead using arms alone! Now, who's up for the challenge. See how easy it is!"

And the big man in his dark lifting attire bent over and grabbed the black iron barbell. He muscle-cleaned it with ease, and for a fleeting second the antiquated globe barbell seemed to float on his upper chest, before the large bearded man grunted the same is if he were inside a girl and the barbell began its journey upward. The press slowed down to a crawl when it came level with his forehead, as he laid back his torso and used the extra leverage to seemingly finish the press with ease. But Daniel knew this weight was actually a lot closer to this cock-sure man's limit than it seemed, at least on that day.

A round of loud applause materialized when the man held the barbell way up overhead in the lock-out, before it met the dusty platform again with a loud clang after bumping on the man's overweight lap as he expertly lowered it.

"This is an all-right press. The form could be better, but it's a solid press. Now I'll show you how it's done!"

Daniel just spoke loud for all to hear as he removed his raincoat and gave his fedora to some old lady to hold for him.

"A solid press? But do you know who this man is, young man?" said an elderly, dapper man as he looked at Daniel with condescending eyes. "He's the strongest man in Belgium! He went to the Olympics in Los Angeles, then in Berlin four years later! He took number eight! Right in front of Hitl..."

"Shut up, fool! Don't you ever repeat that name!" an elderly wife bellowed, his wife. "Both my sons and all my granddaughters have died in Auschwitz because of him! May he rot in Hell and get sodomized for Eternity! Amen!"

Everyone looked at her in shock. Did she just say "sodomized"? How preposterous! She was about eighty years old! Born during the era of Bismark.

While everyone stood there in shock, Daniel smiled at the sixty-something woman holding his hat as he walked to the inert barbell, with the confidence of a man who had no doubt he could lift this and make it look like a toy. Even while wearing his street-clothes. Daniel never felt so smug in his life!

"I know you think it's easy, young man," the older lifter said, "and I see you're just as big as I am in your shoulders, but trust me, sonny, this ain't as easy as it seems! Maybe only ten or twenty men under the sun are able to press this!"

"So? Do you want to double the ante and give me ten grands if I make the lift? I'll pay you ten thousands if I don't make it!"

"I wouldn't want to take your money away... but I'll say deal if this will teach you not to be obstinate!"

"Deal taken!"

As he spoke, Daniel took hold of the barbell and cleaned it to his upper chest in a motion that looked like an afterthought, making it just as effortless to all onlookers as if he simply lifted a sack of potatoes. And with this, he stood straight and just laid back enough to clear his face off the bar's path, and he simply pressed it up, smooth and efficient. The bar slowed down slightly around his forehead, but it sped up as Daniel completed the easy press.

First, the crowd stood in disbelief, but then they all erupted in cheers as Daniel casually lowered the barbell back down.

"Who... Who are you?" the older lifter blurted out, looking at the young man in shock. Daniel felt honest and spoke the truth, perhaps in a feeble attempt to redeem himself in the face of God.

"Weren't you in Paris last week to watch us go at it for the world's championships?"

"Uh, I intended to, but my son was getting married so I couldn't make it. Why?"

"Because I'm Daniel Lévesque from Canada. I took fourth!"

"Why didn't you say so? My challenge was only meant for amateurs!"

"Oh, but I am an amateur! I paid all my expenses for this expensive trip! You can ask the Canadian Athletic Association to quote me on that! Ha! Ha! Ha! And that's why I need the money and you owe me 10,000 Franks!"

"Come on, Philippe! Pay the boy!"

"Yes, be a good sport!"

Grudgingly, the stocky bearded lifter with notes of silver in his black hair pulled out the money from the complex layers of his antiquated lifting outfit. The globe barbell made it look like it was rather 1906 than 1946.

But the Kodak flashes were all very modern as Daniel posed for posterity amid the cheering crowd, next to an apple-blossom-faced maiden who stood barely five feet tall and turned out to be the prettiest girl Daniel had ever seen! Her long hair was flowing down her shoulders like dark-magic honey as she hugged him and smiled for the crowd.

She even began to nudge him into taking off his suit's jacket, which he promptly did, and the smug young man knew where this was headed for. He couldn't resist the general demand, and amid deafening cheers, the petty hero of the day took off his shirt and many a girl giggled between themselves as they looked at his arms! At his white-camisoled torso! So thickly muscled! No wonder he could lift such a massive weight as if it were but a small matter!

Drunk with his sudden celebrity status, Daniel took off his camisole and the Kodak flashes rained on him! A line-up of Belgian women and maidens formed, each and every one of the girls wanting to feel his arm and maybe even kiss him on the cheek.

It was quite an unusual scene where society applauded the display of pure female lust under the innocent layer of a show akin to the act of a circus strongman. One after the other, each girl felt his bulging biceps and posed right next to Daniel's arm, often pressed against him and not minding his arm around her; some girls did kiss him on the cheek.

Daniel had the leisure to learn about the infinite array of tones of brown or blonde, even autumn reds as a wide array of Belgian girls took their turn in feeling Daniel's meat and smiling for posterity with stars in their eyes.

The apple-blossom-faced girl even insisted on Daniel taking her on his shoulder, which he did, and a flurry of dozens of flashes came alive as the maiden sat on his right shoulder and he held her legs together, feeling the soles of her feet brushing his shirtless flanks where she so gracefully rested them, making him realize she had kicked off her shoes and wore no stockings under her long dark skirt. He was so mesmerized he forgot the color of her hair.

When he took her back down to the gym's floor, she hugged him and went in for a kiss. Daniel felt himself sucked into some surreal dream as he felt her tongue and realized she was kissing him all-out, just like Zabel would do, and all this amid mad cheers, in a scene very reminiscent of the all-out celebrations that took place in Paris two years before when the Canadian soldiers walked in the liberated capital along with all those US and British troops, under a cobalt, blue-heavens sky on a wonderful day of August.

"Here's your hat, young man!" the old lady said as she handed him his fancy-rimmed fedora.

"Thanks, Ma'am!" Daniel blurted out, still in the arms of the local maiden beauty.

Daniel suddenly realized he was sleepy. He vaguely heard the girl inviting him for a coffee somewhere close by and nodded. All he would remember from the moment would be those cheers escorting them as they walked out; as if they just got married. He didn't even remember putting his jacket back on, let alone his raincoat. And he sure had no recollection of that girl's hair color. He only knew she had the prettiest face he had ever seen and small breasts that rode high under her wool jersey -- subtle knolls that he couldn't miss.

***

"Are you an angel?"

So spoke the old woman, dignified in her dark dress that contained a slender figure that Daniel felt surprisingly eager to unravel. Especially the shapes of her tits as she walked right next to him on a crowded street that resonated with the hooves of many horses. He noticed that many men wore bowling hats and sometimes even stovepipes and queue-de-pie suits. But he felt great!

He kept looking at her bosom, so dignified under her black mourning dress! Yet offering the promise of something erotic. How old was she? Fifty? More!

She was the one who had held his hat for him while he lifted. He had agreed to go to her place. She said she lived alone there, that it wasn't a very large place, but it was hers and the view on the bustling street was interesting from her second-floor balcony. She said she also owned a collection of interesting books that included many French novels and poetry, as well as Italian ones and a few immortal works in Latin that used to belong to her husband, who had died just two years before in the line of duty.

As he walked inside the building, Daniel was struck by the heavy woodwork and the dark wooden stairs. All inside was lit with weak lamps that were just one measly step above oil lamps. If anything, oil lamps shone brighter. The place felt eerie and somehow dignified. Gothic perhaps.

On the way upstairs, they walked by a quaint-looking man who wore an astrakhan greatcoat. The man civilly stepped aside for the old lady and saluted her, using her given name. "Bonjour, Armande!"

He then looked into Daniel and made him feel small and boyish. There was hatred and perhaps contempt in his stare, but he was gone in a second.

Inside the lady's apartment, it smelled a bit stale, but there were notes of tobacco. She lit an oil lamp and smiled at Daniel.

"We have electricity in town now, but I just prefer oil lamps. I'm so used to them! Now, handsome, kiss me and let's make love! After, I'll tell you about that time I met Maupassant."

As they kissed and he undid the severe-looking bun of her hair, Daniel learned something very few young men knew about older women. She offered a strong beauty of her very own once her long hair had fallen down as a silver cascade on her petite shoulders! He felt a growing erection down there upon realizing he was just about to strip her out of her gloomy black dress! And she was going to be beautiful in the nude.

"Ooh, handsome! It feels so good to be kissed after such a long time... Oooh... Please, strip me! My husband died two years ago and this is the first time since... Please make love to me! I'll do anything you want! Just make me feel loved!"

Daniel felt an incredible growth down there as he undid the buttons and opened the front of her black dress. As he uncovered the cream-white of her corset and saw the promise of her rich complexion and the smooth canyon of her cleavage, it was as if Death unveiled the light of life.

Once her dress lay down dead at and around her feet, she stood in her petticoat. She presently bent over and undid the ankle-high laces of her leather shoes with unreal swiftness! Daniel wanted to pat her buttocks as she did so, but he felt shy to take such a liberty with a woman who was clearly older than his own mother. She looked ancient, and yet he was finding out she was absolutely beautiful! And he indeed wanted to fuck her!

With eager eyes and more eager hands, he helped her out of her socks and took his first act of worshiping the priceless grace of her bare legs and feet! A black cat walked nearby, silent, it looked at the preposterous couple with its marble eyes and then went into hiding under some shadowy sideboard loaded with honey-gold candles --- candles made out of genuine bee wax.

Swift as some unreal magician, the old lady undid her corset behind her back and let it fall as Daniel covered her left shoulder with hot kissing adoration. He avidly pushed her chemise down her arms, then down her hips as he opened his gaping mouth and stooped down to see from up close the surreal display of her breasts! Small breasts will often stand the test of time, and such was the case with her.

As Daniel's lips caressed them, her brown nipples received the same kind of adoration as on her wedding night decades ago. He wanted to learn the difference from one nipple to the other as he gently cupped her small, ageless knolls.

Daniel lifted her like a feather and laid her down on a Persian-looking couch, where a Persian slipper affixed to the gold-yellow wallpaper seemed filled with something. Its scent told him what it was. Tobacco.

After getting her chemise slipped past her sensual legs, Daniel took a wonderful tour of her legs and feet, each inch of her a timeless tribute to eternal beauty. Who was she? The tour ended with a heart-felt flurry of kisses on the small forest of hair between her legs. Daniel found she was still mostly black down there, with some silver hair that reminded him he was making love to an abyss of time.

Nevertheless, the lady sounded very much like a maiden when she filled the room with a high-pitched concert of moans and ended up squirting against her lover's face! Daniel tasted the bitter sugar of scandal. He was now revelling in the act!

He ended up on his back, right on the carpeted floor and somehow Adam-naked without any recollection of her taking off his suit. She was also naked, straddling him. He suddenly felt her pussy and knew the penetration was there. Tight and warm as she began to belly-dance like a Moor dancer on top of him, her high-riding tits defying time as she arched her back and looked all the way up to the ceiling. Her thighs felt young under his hands.

In the natural course of things, Daniel took her waist and helped the penetrative motion, growing more active and heated as he felt the powerful growth of his erection inside her paradise! She was so thin! Here lay the secret of good sex for life... Marry a slim girl and make sure she stays that way!

As his cock stood tall inside her massaging force and she kept up her scandalous naked dance on top of him, Daniel went in his mind, searching for some fantasy about her, and stumbling on a scene where a group of Negroes escaped from a human zoo, right there in Brussels, and decided to beat down some doors and raid a couple of white-owned homes!

He imagined this old lady falling in their hands. Her black dress brutally torn! Her cream-white corset made a souvenir as the tropical men urgently stripped her until she was Eve-naked amid them, and they bent her over some sideboard after clearing it from all the bee-wax candles. And with those candles littering the carpet, they all took their turns in bumping her respectable widow's butt and filled her with their Congolese semen!

Daniel ran that fantasy as he kept fucking the old lady and she kept up her Moorish belly-dancing. She then suddenly found his hands and gripped them as a fit of spasms took her! She lowered herself and kissed him as if he were the one and only man in the world as his hands left hers and he cupped her buttocks. Finding she felt just as full and sensual down there as any given maiden would! In the state he was in, age made no difference.

His candle powerfully burst inside her and all his wind was taken from him. It felt as if he were levitating with her on top of him.

Bye and bye, he regained his breath and his bodily functions resumed their natural course. He suddenly became aware of a third person in the room!

He looked where his mind felt the presence, and he saw a girl, petite with long raven hair, wearing an emerald-green dress, looking just as dignified as the old lady, just a youthful version. Her features told him she was probably related to her.

"Oh, Daniel, meet Esmeralda, my granddaughter. Esmeralda, Daniel", the old naked lady on top of him said, just as casually as if they were all three sitting at a table and having tea on a social call.

The maiden nodded. Something in her was ageless. Her face had something the old lady no longer had. Apple-blossom charm. Esmeralda nodded and smiled, blushing, then she made a few steps of dancing, waltzing with herself as if she were dancing with an invisible spirit.

The softness of her foot motions attracted his attention and he saw those wonderful blurs of pale skin. She was barefoot! Daniel instantly wanted her! Yes, he was going to strip her naked and yes, rape her!

He stood up, making an absolute mockery of the old lady and her puny weight. She weighed less than a globe dumbbell he would casually press one-handed.

Next thing he knew, he had Esmeralda in his arms and she was pummeling his back with her graceful little fists as he ravished a long kiss out of her! But then she laughed.

Far from being angry, the old lady encouraged Daniel to use Esmeralda as he pleased. The maiden herself kept resisting, but it was really a playful form of it, something she perhaps did to arouse herself in the arms of a man, by pretending to resist a rape.

"What are you thinking of, Esmeralda? You like this game, don't you?" the old lady said behind Daniel's shoulder. Daniel had the clear impression they had done this before.

"Yes, I love to role-play! I've read the war memoirs of my grandfather. Do you know he was in China during the Boxer rebellion? This is still recent, and yet it feels like ages ago, because my beloved grand-daddy is gone! He was killed in Peking during the siege of the Diplomatic legation compounds where only a few hundred soldiers stood between the foreign civilians and tens of thousands of fanatic Chinese! Oh, just to have been there and think of what those Chinese men would have done to me if they had won and captured the place!"

"Esmeralda! Don't say such dirty things! This is your grandfather you're talking about! My own husband!"

"They would have first groped me all over! The place would have been filled with shrieks and screams from terrified white girls falling into the hands of those Chinese soldiers! Then they would have ripped my dress off! Urgently! No corset or petticoat would have protected my modesty from their raging hands! Darker hands! Like baked earth, especially at night under torches and oil lamps!

"But please, do strip me, Sir! Yes, they would have had me naked amid their screaming fury! Bent me over some desk or table or other piece of furniture, or just held me bent-over in their midst, with my hair loose and my arms restrained in the small of my back. And one by one, very urgently, dozens of those bronze-faced boys, with slits of shadow for eyes, would have taken their pleasure inside me! Wicked fun! Screaming the joy of their victory upon giving me their powerful semen! Sending to Europe a clear message that white men can be beaten and their girls used for pleasure after!"

Each word spoken by Esmeralda drove Daniel nuts. He feverishly kissed her and wanted to rip her dress off her!

"Calm down, big boy! This dress cost a small fortune! Let me undo it... Right there! Oh, please, Sir! Do worship my body! I see that you relieved yourself inside my grandmother. Do you want me to lick and mouth-work your cock back to life? You'll see, I'm good at this! I truly want it inside me! I hope you don't mind. It's been so long since I last 'had it' with a boy!"

And like a dream, Esmeralda helped herself out of her Victorian-looking dress, its powerful green matching the light in her eyes as she kept smiling at him.

"Thank you for bringing me a good one, Armande!" Esmeralda said to her grandmother, using a tone that would be appropriate when a lady spoke to a servant.

Armande stood by, naked, and remained silent while Esmeralda swiftly undid her corset and let it fall at her feet, before grabbing the loose mass of her golden-white chemise and lifting it all the way up, exposing the triangle of black-hair mystery down there between her statuesque legs, along with her navel and the priceless pushed-out grace of her breasts as the cotton undergarment gently landed on the Persian carpet.

Esmeralda stood naked like a phantom, her raven hair fanning out over her shoulders, albeit leaving her breasts in their full ivory light under the oil-lamplight. Daniel went wild upon thinking of her Chinese war story and picturing those yellow-skin Boxers in the unthinkable act of undressing Esmeralda and surrounding her forbidden nakedness with their forest of hard cocks!

He rushed at her, gently pushed her against the nearest wall and avidly sucked her tits! His hands getting acquainted with the soft geography of her hips and the supple grace of her waist as he tasted her brown nipples and she ran her fingers through his hair.

"You were forgetting your hat, young man!" the old lady said and smiled, no longer naked, but now covered with a dark shawl as she handed him his mud-brown hat and he put it on while Esmeralda knelt down at his feet.

Naked, but wearing his hat, Daniel felt the first lapping strokes from Esmeralda's tongue and felt he didn't deserve such high pleasures. He began stroking her magic hair as she kept mouth-working his soft cigar. She insisted with her busy hot tongue, and little by little, as she licked the juices and the semen off it, Daniel's cigar found some new life and he couldn't believe his tight-mouth luck as Esmeralda engulfed it and began to smoke the cigar for him, her mouth working magic and soon turning him into a primordial titan!

As he enjoyed his throbbing erection against the ever-renewed caresses of her tongue and mouth, Daniel decided whether he wanted to simply let her finish the job and fill up her mouth or perhaps splatter her face, or else he could pull out and discover the joys of her vagina...

Esmeralda presently stood up and ordered him to rape her any way he'd like.

"Now, rape me and do whatever you please with me, but shake me hard! Or else..."

Something in her voice told him he'd rather not know what the "else" would entail. He obediently grabbed Esmeralda and called her a European tramp, pretending he were a Chinese soldier in Peking about to rape a Belgian girl after the "what if" fall of the diplomatic legation compounds as the Boxer army victoriously stormed the buildings and killed or beat up the men before gang-raping all the white women along with the Chinese christians.

He took her near the sideboard and tossed all the candles off it! And then he flat-cheeked the side of her face against its top and brutally pushed himself inside her while gathering her wrists against the small of her back, and as he raped Esmeralda, he pretended there was a great number of other Chinese soldiers around her rape, waiting their own turn and masturbating while he kept forcing the pale fullness of her buttocks against him, flattening those buns with each impact as he took his pleasure!

This was some serious fun! He loved the way her small wrists twitched under his grip as he deep-rammed her! The music of her whimpers! Now she was the tramp for those squalid soldiers!

"You have a very lovely pussy, Miss! This I tell you in the name of the Chinese arm..."

"Shut up! Shut up and just rape me! Not a word!" Esmeralda cut him, her voice sharp amid her plaintive-sounding whimpers.

Daniel kept up the proud slugfest until Esmeralda screamed her bliss!

"Yes! Yes! They won! They've taken the European delegation compounds and I'm raped! Aaaaaaaaaahhh aaahhh Nnhhaaaooo, no no no! Aah naaooo this can't be happening! Aaaahh, this is so good! Keep going keep going! Big cock! Make me Chinese!"

Daniel did his utmost to keep enjoying the round of rough sex where he forced Esmeralda's cheek to remain sliding on that sideboard; the silky mass of her hair acting like some magic blanket between the wood and her face, making her sliding ride faster and even more unbridled! Her hair was the Chinese ink of her fancy! Her cunt took the resulting beating.

Do what he will and holding her surreal buns, he finally capitulated and experienced an extreme high where his legs got blurry under him and the force turned his jaw loose as heavy ropes of jism shot deep inside Esmeralda, the full moons of her bum getting flattened a couple more times in this ultimate moment. All his strength went into his ejaculation as he died out of sheer bliss inside her.

"Daniel? Daniel? Please, it's getting late. Take me home!" a girl said as she kept gently shaking his arm.

As Daniel cleared the cobwebs, he realized he sat in a café. A modern café with full-blown electric lights. It was dark outside. Esmeralda's butt and legs still lived in his mind, along with the softness of her skin; she remained as the fading souvenir of a dream he had already almost forgotten, except for the name of a street. Rue d'Avignon.

Who was the girl who sat opposite him? She had been reading a book. Notre-Dame de Paris by Victor Hugo... Wow! She was really pretty! An apple-blossom face! The prettiest he had ever seen, with long hair that displayed a fun color, right on the mid turf where hazel ended and chocolate brown began. Her delicate eyebrows promised a pristine bush of hair down there. Her small, delicate nose reflected her small hands and her petite figure. She was slim and looked perfect for a wedding night. Or a gang-rape.

"Daniel, you're very handsome when you're asleep! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! I just read and let you sleep, but then you began to talk amid your sleep. And what you were saying was getting a bit... a bit embarrassing. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! You were saying things about some girl called Esmeralda amid Chinese soldiers or something like this. This is weird, because there's also an Esmeralda in the novel I'm reading, but now you must take me home at once. My folks must already be growing worried about me! I'll phone them right away while you pay for our coffees and pieces of maroon pie. I live within walking distance, on Rue Maupassant, in an appartment building that replaced the one destroyed by that terrible fire twenty years ago. Even the name of the street was changed."

"What was it called before?" Daniel replied as he hailed the waiter for the tab.

"It used to be Rue d'Avignon."

***

When he walked that apple-blosom-faced girl to her parents' home, Daniel welcomed this new opportunity of going straight and stop raping. His mind was filled with fantasies where he was part of a group of German soldiers who had caught her on the street and used her for their basest sport. And yet he walked hand-in-hand with her as gentlemanly as can be, standing tall and proud under the dignity of his coat and hat while the wind blew the leaves off the trees in the streets of Brussels.

"I'm very glad I met you, Daniel. I've had a great time!" said the girl whose name he had forgotten as she stopped and made him stop at the door of the appartment building, before leading him into the shadow in a corner behind a phone booth, where she pulled him by the collar and kissed him.

The kiss lingered. She smelled awfully nice. Daniel tried his hand on her. He found the knoll of a breast and gently caressed it, through her wool jersey, finding the small mass yielding, albeit firm. She tensed under his touch, but she didn't stop kissing him. Her tongue found its way inside his mouth and they now truly kissed as Daniel kept caressing her tit through her clothes, his touch growing firmer and the girl growing a bit wilder.

"I... I must get going, Daniel! I love how you kiss me! Come see me here tomorrow at noon! Ask for Juliette. It's apartment number seven on the second floor, at the 122 Rue Maupassant. See you! Be there!"

And with that, the apple-blossom girl vanished from the crease of his arms. Like a gone-by song.

***

When he came back to his hotel, Daniel found his picture on the evening edition of La Depêche, right there in official black and white, next to a picture where a great number of men were harming other men trying to flee, and the feature sounded quite sinister... "Hindu mobs target Muslim families in the Indian state of Bihar, resulting in anywhere between 2,000 and 30,000 deaths."

Daniel quickly paid the boy and took the newspaper with him to his room, where a starving Nadia waited for him and cursed at him, telling him he must order their dinner right now or he'll be without a slave girl.

As he did so and then quickly read the article about him, without even thinking of taking off his raincoat, Daniel realized he had made a stupid blunder! All in great bold letters stood his name... "Daniel Lévesque, the world's number-four lifter, attracts an enthusiastic crowd in Brussels as he displays his great strength. See how the girls like him!"

The picture showed Juliette smiling for posterity from her apple-blossom face, looking as if she was going to remain eternally young where she sat on his shirtless shoulder and he held her barefoot legs together under her dark skirt that seemed to match her hair, the black & white making it look really dark. Dammit! What was he going to tell Zabel when this news would reach Montreal?

Dammit! He just gave the Soviet agents a bold-letter advertisement shouting, "Hey, I'm right here in Brussels!"

Not an hour later, Daniel and Nadia were on board of the 21:17 train bound for La Panne. In other words, headed for the Channel and England.

Since they had fled and rushed to the train station without eating a bite, Daniel took Nadia to the restaurant car, where she devoured a juicy steak with french fries and mayonnaise, Belgian style -- a dish you'd never get in France. Daniel followed suit after an entrée of snails in garlic butter. All of it with blonde beer. Even the black waiter called this a supper. Clearly, they were no longer in Paris.

Once they were back in their compartment, Nadine had to pay for her supper by giving herself to Daniel. As usual, he took her skirt off and lowered her panties along with her fish-net stockings as he bent her over the bench seat, kneeling behind her, with the pale nakedness of her buns enhanced by the hem of her blouse. It was so much fun when he did her like this while leaving her shirt on!

Once more, Nadine's rear cushions got repeatedly flattened against Daniel's grunting frame. As he slugged away, he pictured the train getting stopped by a battalion of German soldiers, who then proceeded to beat up the men and rape any good-looking woman under the pretense of searching for hidden weapons.

Daniel pretended he was a hammy-handed Unteroffizier as he took his delight inside Nadia. He even began singing a song he loosely remembered from a bunch of prisoners. Called Erika or something... "Und das heisst, Eerika!" Something likte this. Nadia protested with rage as the French-voiced German song hit her ears...

"Shut up! Shut up and just rape me and get it over with!"

In a flash of his mind, Esmeralda was suddenly there along with Juliette, in a scene where he raped the girl while holding her wrists together in the small of her back.

He gave Nadia's buns the last strokes of his smacking homage and yelled his unbridled victory while the train rode full steam ahead through the overcast night. The Devil was the engineer.

TO BE CONTINUED.

[HistBuff]

De Panne, or La Panne was an old fisherman village that was famous for their sail fishing boats, called the pannepots, and the beer they crafted, also called pannepot.

When Daniel arrived there late at night, he was directed to a hostel set in a building dating as far back as the 17th century if not earlier. It was clean and homely in its happy chaos, with a couple of fishermen still drinking at the bar. Those unkempt men stopped what they were doing and stared at Nadia, who was dog-tired and leaning on Daniel in the fancy outfit he had bought her in Brussels.

"That's a big-town girl. We don't see them often here."

"Yep, that's a fact," said the second fisherman, who wore a long silver beard that had seen better days.

After leaving her asleep in their room upstairs, Daniel went to the bar and asked about anyone who would be willing to take him and his "wife" to England. For 1,000 Belgian Franks, which meant 200 US dollars. This was no small sum for those men who typically lived with barely more than 10,000 Franks a year.

A honest-looking man with a fatherly silver beard and a red drinking nose answered him...

"Through the Channel? With your wife? But oh, the weather forecast is pretty bad. Rough tumbling it's gonna be out there; you don't know the Channel; I do know it, yes I do. I've been a skipper for more than thirty years. For 2,500 Franks, I can take you over there starting with the tide tonight at 4. I can see in your eyes that you're in a hurry! So, twenty-five hundreds and no questions asked!"

"Uh, deal!"

"All right, make sure you and your wife are there at the wharf at four. Be there! We can't miss the tide! You can't miss it. Go right on main street and to the sea and it'll be right there. It's gonna be really cold out there, but we've got blankets and beer to keep you warm; and your wife too of course."

Daniel had some concern about this man's intentions, but this would be just him and perhaps another old man on a small fishing boat, and he still had the Tokarev 9mm pistols that he had taken from Sergei and Yuri. He had one in his pocket and it was fully loaded. And besides, this old man looked honest and honourable. Probably more than he was himself.

***

Nadia had her eyes half-closed with sleep when Daniel very much dragged her to the wharf and showed up just in time for the tide. The ship itself was no modern fishing boat. Daniel's jaw dropped with astonishment as he saw it.

It was a sailboat, about 30 or 35 feet in length including the bowsprit. A two-mast ship that looked like a ketch with much sails and a round hull, a bit like those ancient viking ships, meaning this was a ship that could go in shallow water. The old skipper was right there, his long silver beard breaking the night's murky air.

"How do you like her? It's been my very own pannepot for more than thirty years and it belonged to my father when I was his first mate, may he rot in Hell! Ah, this is your wife! Tired, isn't she! Well, give me my money and get your things on board. We're setting sail! Hey Richard! Time to set sail and weigh the anchor! England, here we come!"

As he helped Nadia to climb on board, Daniel saw there were three or four men in the skipper's crew. The one he called Richard must have been the first mate. Then there were the second and third mates, plus another man who probably acted as a cook and extra sail-man.

He saw them. These men were young and active. Two of those men had a face as dark as charcoal as one swiftly pulled a rope to raise the main sail's yard while the other Negro helped a white hand to man the small capstan for winding the chain and raising the anchor. Their work was efficient.

He went down below, where the skipper showed him the tiny space he was to share with Nadia, who laid herself down and found a rolled blanket where she rested her head and fell asleep almost immediately.

"Well, this will be your home for the next twenty-four hours or so!"

"This long?!"

"Yep! Maybe less if the winds are with us, but it usually takes a full day to reach Dover. Now please, my money!"

After he gave the agreed-on fee to the skipper, Daniel laid down near Nadia and followed her in sleep.

A man woke him up. A Negro.

"Sir! This is breakfast, Sir! Coffee is better hot than cold!" said the large Negro as he gently touched his shoulder to stir him out of his sleep. Many gentlemen would have been deeply offended to be touched by a Negro, but Daniel was of a different breed. He saw a man as any other man, coloured or not. He once even said it aloud at home, when he was only eight, and his father slapped him, forbidding him to say such silly things.

"What's your name, friend? I'm Daniel."

"Me, Babacar. I'm from Senegal. My father stayed here in De Panne after the war in 1918 and found work on a fishing boat. He had us come to join him. I was only five then! Hurry up if you want your coffee hot!"

When he got on deck with Nadia, it was already bright sunshine, but only soon after dawn. There were many clouds in the golden sky, but it seemed to be headed for a gorgeous sunny day. The ship was headed West in the open sea under a fair wind that seemed to blow from North West, so the ship was tilting a bit to the left, or rather larboard.

Daniel found the Skipper and his four-man crew sitting near the bow, fore of the ship, and having a breakfast of bread and sausages, forming an irregular circle among fish nets. Beside Babacar, another Negro sat and nodded at Daniel and his wife, while the Skipper and both white men sat apart, clearly keeping a distance that reflected the colour line.

"Hello! Hello to your wife!" the Skipper said as he respectfully got up and hailed the one woman on board, along with Richard and the other white fellow. The two Negroes sat together and immersed themselves in a conversation of their own in their own language from Senegal. Nadia watched them with fascination, hugging herself against the cold in a thick wool blanket all wrapped around her petite figure.

Daniel sat between the Skipper and Richard, who looked like a dark-beard younger version of the Skipper, and thus Daniel wasn't surprised to hear Richard being introduced to him as the Skipper's eldest son. Richard looked just as unkempt as his father.

"And this is Hector, my youngest son. Just turned twenty last summer!" the Skipper added as he offered a bowl of porridge to Nadia, for whom Richard set a pot of steaming coffee nearby as she sat between him and his brother Hector.

"I also have four daughters back home. I love everyone of them! So glad the war is finally over! I had to hide them from the Germans and even took them at sea with me at times! They're the apple of my eye! One of them, the elder one, looks a bit like your wife. Raven hair and a face to die for!"

Nadia shyly nodded at the Skipper, then at Richard and Hector as Daniel made the social introductions. As they ate their porridge, both Richard and Hector kept taking sideways glances at Nadia, which was to expect from any healthy man near such a lovely young lady.

"Nadia... This name is no French-sounding name, not even German," the Skipper said. "How did you meet her, if I may ask? Forgive my curiosity..."

"Ah, this is a long story! I'm an Olympic weightlifter and I compete internationally. We met in Paris!"

"Very recently you did, or during the war, because you look awfully young to have met her before that."

"Yes yes, we're newlyweds."

The Skipper looked down at Daniel's hand and then grinned. Daniel wore no ring.

Sitting between Richard and Hector -- both sailors just as unkempt and dirty-faced as the other one -- Nadia was drinking her coffee and entertaining them with a story, her accent enthralling them to some sort of deep trance as she told them about young Bacchus or Liber, the god of wine, when he was but a kid and sailors on the Aegean Sea tried to kidnap him in order to sell him as a slave.

"... and the boat was soon filled with grapevine! Both masts and all spars were turned into a lush mass of grapevine as the terrified sailors threw themselves overboard, but as they plunged into the wine-dark sea, their skin became darker and darker and also grew thicker, and before they knew it, all of them were turned into dolphins! Such was their punishment for trying to enslave a god!"

Daniel was similarly enthralled. The sea was so beautiful in its all-encompassing deep blue, and filled with mystery in its infinite expanse everywhere he looked.

He never knew what hit him!

***

When he came to, Daniel had his hands tied up behind his back and even tied to his ankles behind him, where he lay on the deck. Nadia was screaming.

"Niiiet! Niiiiet! Prekratiiite! Pre-kra-tii-te!!!"

"What is she saying? What's this language?"

"I think this is Russian, Hector. Now, hold her still. No, Richard. We're not touching her until we've made it to the Man's-Skull island."

"But father! This is still half an hour away! Can't we at least look at her tits for the time being? I can't wait to see those titties under the sun!"

"Bastards! You'll all rot inside! And when you die, you'll all rot in Hell! What kind of men are you? Even those Negroes are more civilized... Lemme go!"

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Those Negroes are both steering the ship and manning the sails right now, and do you know what their reward will be? You!" the Skipper grinned. "Oh, young lady! You gonna be a rich fuck for all five of us!" he added as he caressed her hair and she spat on his face, making him laugh the merrier.

"N-nooo! No! You can't mean it? Please let go of me! I'll... I'll be a good girl and do all you want, but don't let those Negroes on me, I beg you! Please!"

"Well, you can tell them yourself when they come to claim their prize, but in the meantime... Aahrrrr!"

And as he groaned, the Skipper ripped her white blouse open, buttons flying as both his sons restrained Nadia's arms, grinning like ill-shaven devils and watching the sudden appearance of her bra-encased breasts. She writhed and struggled, cursing in Russian, her hands forming little girly fists that had no power to avoid the unavoidable, no matter how hard she clenched them.

"This royal-blue jacket suits you very well, Milady! But we're dying to see what's underneath!" the Skipper added as he held her chin, before running his forefinger down her neck, then down her upper chest, then lower into her cleavage as Nadia let out a shrill scream of terror. The knolls of flesh filling her bra were beautifully pushed out of her chest and between the white curtains of her torn blouse as she kept struggling in vain between the grinning brothers.

Then with a loud grunt, the Skipper grabbed the centre of her bra and snapped it broken after stretching the doomed fabric, his eyes going out of his head as he saw, at last, those tits he had been wanting to see, and touch, ever since he laid his eyes on her. They were now freely moving and kissed by the sea breeze under the sun! Her nipples and areolas powerfully light brown and promising oceans of love.

The way his 55-year-old erection stiffened said it all about how gorgeous Nadia was.

Her pale tits were bright with sunlight as her nipples quickly stiffened under the chilling breeze, under the grinning, unshaven devil faces of Richard and Hector, both sturdy men restraining the bawling girl as she tried to jerk herself out of their grip, but she didn't have a chance!

The utterly unthinkable happened as the long-bearded Skipper stooped down and began to avidly kiss and lick her hard nipples and the rest of her orbs, cupping them with his leathery hands --- strong hands that knew a lot more hardships than delights at sea.

"Aaaah! What it must have been like for pirates! When they'd capture a merchant ship and found such cuties among the passengers! Aaaaahh! At last! I can suck her tits! Isn't she pretty? Isn't she? And she's all ours for the next few days! Aaahh! NOW! Now, this is life! At last! Mhhh..."

Nadia cried rivers of tears, her white shirt wide open between the wide-open curtains of her violated jacket. She shuddered and felt the sting of mortification where the Skipper's unkempt beard brushed her delicate skin while his mouth and his twirling tongue kept her tits warm and well-slobbered.

"Here, Richard, take your share of the bounty! I'll hold her arms! Hector, go see the prisoner and make sure he's tied up tightly. He's gonna enjoy the show! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

And now it was Richard's turn to suck Nadia's breasts. After the Skipper's avid tongue strokes came the elder son's flurry of kisses! And Nadia felt the brush of his dark, young beard! She hated this! She also knew she was absolutely wet down there. She kept thinking about those two Negroes. The notion of getting raped by African men had never even crossed her mind before. She felt a morbid sense of arousal and fascination as she discovered the new low of debasement that was in store for her! Were they going to make her suck African cocks? A secret wicked corner of her mind almost wished it. But no! This couldn't be!

With soul-tearing outcries, while Richard was wet-kissing and pressure-cupping her tits, Nadia cried out in Russian. She wanted to go back to USSR! She didn't care to get gang-raped and sent to Siberia for manual labor and more rapes; as long as she didn't get forced to fuck Negroes!

Richard didn't satisfy himself with just her tits.

"Those titties are fine, but let's see what's down there! Let's see if she tastes as good as she looks!"

"I'm proud of you, son! Let's go! Lick her cunt until she's forced to come! With her husband watching! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! This is going to be even better than I thought! And I'm getting paid for this! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! He's paying us to see his wife gang-fucked!"

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhh nnniiiiet! Nniiiet!" Nadia shrieked as Richard's rough hands that smelled like fish undid her fancy belt and roughly lowered her royal-blue skirt, uncovering the sunbright-naked crease of her hips and the fish-net pattern of her black stockings along with her garters and her black panties.

With a thundering growl of triumph, Richard grabbed and pulled all those undergarments down! He made Nadia soaking wet against her will as he violently got rid of her stockings and her panties, throwing her pumps down on the deck in the process.

The Russian lass was now naked with her wide-open jacket and her torn blouse flapping at the wind like useless wings, where the Skipper was holding her arms behind her back while looking down over her shoulders, admiring the small expanse of her free-moving breasts while kissing the side of her face and promising her long hours of pleasure as she looked away in disgust! As if his old leather face were pure filth.

"How are you liking this, wise guy?" Hector jeered at Daniel, gesturing at the helpless Nadia while his brother Richard was in the act of fingering her, causing her to scream and bawl in Russian!

"The bitch is wet!" Richard commented as he leered at her and forced now two fingers inside her, guiding his efforts according to the sound of her screams and finding the money spot where Nadia began to whimper, in sweat and aroused against her will, as goosebumps appeared on her skin from the chilling breeze.

"I think we better keep her jacket on her back, or else she'll catch cold, but man, what a rush! She's so pretty! I'm so sorry, Milady, we just can't help ourselves! We have to fuck you! It's your fault! You're too pretty! But don't worry, you're going to enjoy it too!" the Skipper said as he kept licking the side of her face, his silver beard meeting her black hair as he felt the push of his cock against the smelly front of his work trousers and anticipated the relief he was about to take inside her.

Richard eventually knelt down and began kissing Nadia's raven-haired cunt. She emitted a string of high-pitched whimpers as his tongue found the mark and kept insistently pushing right there where he violated her sensuality. Nadia's soul was forced like a lost sailboat under a storm and she crashed on the reefs of a fantasy where she was being held amid Negroes above the deck and powerfully raped by them, near some tropical island with coconut trees.

And she cummed as the surrounding sea echoed with her long-winded series of moans as she saw stars in broad daylight! This had no right to be happening! No right! No right mind! She went nuts and beyond cloud nine at the bottom of her misery.

Richard kept at it, powerfully holding her hips with punishing fingers that stung deep in her sore flesh, and he kept up the cunnilingus until she exploded again and saw a full galaxy of forbidden stars as she hit an even stronger climax! The Negroes in her daydream were hard at work.

"She's ready to be fucked," Richard said, laconic as he dropped his brown trousers after loosening his belt. And the impressive eight inches of his veiny erection came jutting out from under the mostly wine-red wool fabric of his fish-smelling plaid shirt!

Nadia frantically tried to kick and shrieked out loud as if someone nearby at sea would hear her. The Skipper got her pinned down on the wooden deck, but Richard couldn't strain enough to force her legs open.

"Aaah, the bitch! She's obstinate! No, father, don't hit her! This is my first time raping a non-German girl and I want to be a good rapist, a kind rapist. Let's not harm her! Hey girl, we're gonna roll you over and take you from behind, very gently. Here, I'll take off my shirt and put it on the deck where you can use it as a cushion for your knees! We mean no harm. We just want to take our pleasure inside you."

"Why don't you just go out and get flowers for her while you're at it?" the Skipper said, leering as he helped his son in positioning Nadia on all fours, and indeed, Richard put his taken-off shirt under her graceful knees, before slapping her naked butt and commenting on her prime-stock quality.

Both Negroes approached and looked on along with Hector as Richard knelt down behind the sobbing girl, whose arms were restrained right under her face as she rested on her elbows and her butt protruded for all the crewmen to see! And for Richard to touch and hold and kiss!

"Wow! I've never kissed such a cock-stiff butt ever in my life, not even two years ago when the Allies were getting close and we all stormed the German police headquarters! Raping those German secretaries was so much fun! I had one bent over her desk with her face sliding on those German-typed papers! Making a mockery of their Reich eagle! Ha! Ha! Ha! But this Soviet tramp looks and tastes even better!"

And with such winged words, the first mate rammed himself deep inside Nadia! He slid deep and easy as she was absolutely wet. And he began to pound her, sending a powerful message of truth and life with each one of his heavy strokes.

"Do you remember the German Colonel's niece?" the Skipper remembered. "She was on a visit, she said, she meant us no ill-will, she said, but how she whined and bawled when half the townsmen rolled over her! Her nice little tight feldgrau uniform didn't protect her. Her half-dead uncle either, nor the smashed portrait of the Fuhrer! She was forced to take Belgian cocks by the dozen! In all three of her holes! And her skin! Just as pure and white as this Russian pussycat! I'll never forget how I screamed when I shot my load on her lovely little doll's face!"

Nadia just kept her head down and took the abuse, whimpering and sobbing under Richard's relentless pounding as his grunting accelerated to an urgent tempo, her pussy reacting with new notes of unwanted arousal as she took her very first sailor's cock.

Sure enough, Richard's grin made a hole of teeth-clutching joy in his thick beard, and he gripped the peachy round mass of her butt between his hands and looked up high above toward the gathering clouds as he consumed the unthinkable! He erupted, deep and plentiful. All inside Nadia!

Then the Skipper nodded at Hector, who rushed down on his knees and took his brother's spot behind Nadia. He was so mad with lust that he fumbled with the buckle of his belt, but he lost no time and dropped his trousers. Nadia felt the gentle punch of his cock on her left butt-cheek and wailed, powerless to stop the mayhem.

After a bit of fumbling, the virgin boy had a look of marveled surprise on his face as he sank inside her, and he tentatively began to come and go, soon finding his rhythm, and soon delivering strong jabs that hit their mark inside Nadia and caused her to whimper as she realized she was being stuffed by a boy a decade her junior.

Just as the boy screamed his bliss inside Nadia, Babacar yelled, "Hey, Skipper! The land! The island! We must stop!"

All hands ran to their stations! Hector took the helm and the ship narrowly avoided a large rock that pierced the foaming sea while the rest of the crew lowered the sails and maneuvered the ship. Nadia lay on the deck, half naked and crying, with a river of spent semen spilling out of her hole.

After a couple of minutes, the sailboat was inside a cove and the anchor was lowered.

Nadia was feebly getting up when the Skipper was on her!

"Now at last I got'ya!" the Skipper yelled, his Navy-dark jacket a long and wide shadow over her petite figure as the panicked pitter-patter of her feet struck the deck and he indeed got his hands on her! Nadia never felt such strong hands, not even Daniel's and this reminded her of Arthur Conan Doyle's writings about Sherlock Holmes and the titanic strength of sailors.

Toying with her like she were a straw doll, revelling in her outcries, the Skipper pinned her with her chest on the safety fence at the larboard side of the ship, facing away from the sun and casting his shadow on her buttock's ghastly paleness. He masturbated himself while restraining her using only one hand and ignoring the frantic flailing of her arms. She was all his to enjoy!

With some tapping against her peach-soft bottom, his old man's cock got twelve o'clock stiff, and facing due West, the Skipper yelled his victory as he rammed his rammer inside Nadia's Soviet jam. He had her in a jam and he let her know it by shaking her like an inmate raping the prison director's visiting daughter during a riot that got out of hand.

He raped her savagely, his grunts loaded with an old man's despair. He gathered her flailing wrists and held them in the small of her small back, teaching her good manners at sea and knowing this would perhaps be his last time inside so young a girl!

"You're doing her like a boss, Skipper!" Richard said.

"Dad's sure the boss!" Hector added.

"Yes, this is how you treat a little missy!" Babacar commented.

"Hector, hrr! Don't you ever call me dad when we're, ahrrr, when we're at sea! Harrrhh! Babacar, shut up Negro! Hrrr! Hrrrr, hrrrr! Shut up and wait yer turn!"

"Thank you, Boss!" replied Babacar as he looked on and masturbated, fires of lust in his dark eyes as he witnessed the obliteration of Nadia's pride -- whatever residue was left of it.

The Skipper kept on pounding Nadia for long hellish minutes, loving each and every stroke he gave her in this hell of a fuck. Like most older men, he needed more time to achieve a climax. He already counted himself lucky to achieve such a powerful erection and this was only due to his extreme state of arousal.

For those long minutes, Nadia's crying whimpers filled the air and she regretted, very bitterly regretted having fled West. Now was too late to be sorry! Daniel witnessed the tragedy with a wicked erection, and he waited with fascination the moment when those two Negroes would take Nadia.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHRR YES YES YES! AAAAAAHHRR MINN GOTT--UUHGHGyyuuuuuggh!!!" uttered the Skipper as he looked way up at the heavens and dumped a hell of a load.

"Aaaahh, aahhhh... she's a very, a aah, very good fuck!" the Skipper said, still out of breath as he rearranged his trousers and put back the ghastly paleness of his spent erection inside them.

Then he threw Nadia into Babacar's arms and said, "Here you are! Have your fun with her, as agreed!"

Nadia battered Babacar's face and chest with her little puny fists as the tall and burly Senegalese held her by the elbows and lighted up his mud face with a wide smile in this twisted, unreal waltz he forced her to dance. And he dragged her straight against him... and kissed her!

Nadia cried bitter tears of shame as it dawned upon her she was discovering a new low in her week-long ordeal. Not by Negroes on top of all she had already endured! This really took the cake! A chocolate cake. She couldn't bear it! She tried to turn away from his kisses, but he held her head fast and forced her to endure the loving heat of his thick lips whether she wanted or not.

Then Babacar laughed and playfully wrestled her down onto the deck, where he went down on top of her and proceeded to take her entire right breast inside his wide-gaping mouth! He turned his face into some monstrous and muddy octopus as he seemed to try to suck all life out of her through one of her tits!

"Say you love me, Missy!" the Negro said as he took a long tongue stroke on the underside of her breast and caused her nipple to hit his African-flat nose. He loved this yielding aspic dish! What a lass! His first wench!

"And now I'm a big pirate of the Caribbean! Sucking the snow-white tits of a lass! And she secretly loves it! Tell me tell me, Milady! Tell Babacar that you love Negroes! Tell me or I'll hit you!"

The other Negro laughed and commented about something in his own language. Babacar nodded and urgently pushed his dark grey trousers down, causing the sun to light up the mud-brown of his naked buttocks. This was happening!

All the white men stood there, transfixed, and Daniel looked on, hypnotized where he lay prostrated, his wrists painfully tied up to his ankles behind him as he looked on. This was happening! For real.

Nadia writhed and wriggled under Babacar, tiny under him, shrieking like a banshee and writhing about like a heated trout in a skillet! She shrieked to glass-breaking force!

Richard knelt down and held her wrists on either side of her raven hair as she shook her head and tried to resist her fate, with all the willpower she had left, but Babacar was heavy, strong and determined.

The Negro pushed inside her! He wasn't all that big, but everything broke inside Nadia and she let out one inhuman scream as he punctured the colour line and rammed inside her! Profound! Deep to the hilt of his chocolate dagger! Nadia lost her sanity as she realized she was penetrated by a Negro.

She fell silent as Babacar grunted his delight and began to tick her clock, his face transfixed, his body in a pelvis-pushing trance as the massive slabs of his buttocks fed those heave strokes he gave to the sobbing wench. Her sunlit thighs forced to brush his brown flanks as she was raped on the sailboat's deck.

Nadia's whimpers were weaker than Babacar's guttural grunting, but they were perhaps more striking as they were filled with absolute despair. She'd be better off dead, she thought, as she shared the fate of an indefinite number of Dixieland girls had during the end of the Secession War, when Atlanta fell to the Union and some coloured battalions were to be seen among the soldiers who celebrated and went on a spree of loot and rape throughout the captured city! Those lovely petticoat-wearing Colonel's or Major's nieces and daughters were ravished after the burning mortification of getting forcibly stripped out of their lady's dresses amid a mob of drunkards!

Babacar's thick mud face was inches of hers! He made her feel the heavy blows from his cock! All six inches of it! He kept tropicalizing Nadia's porcelain face with his crude kissing, as he quickly passed his edge and let out a heart-felt ejaculation...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH MILADY!!!"

Dying out of sheer elation and ecstasy, Babacar experienced his most potent ejaculation ever, shooting bolts upon bolts of his rich, creamy semen and filling the sobbing lass with his Senegalese heat. And she had to "enjoy" his breathing a bit more as he exhaled all over her crying face while the last drops of his sludge left him. Nadia prayed not to get pregnant from him!

The other Negro was shorter and squatter. He was overweight and called Big Congo. The "Big" component in his nickname became all too apparent as he dropped his dirty trousers and produced one hell of a huge horn! The biggest cock Daniel had ever seen!

Nadia shrieked in terror as she saw the Thing! She was playfully restrained and moved around by Babacar until she was on all fours, as per Big Congo's instructions. The Skipper smoked a pipe while his sons ate some beef jerky and drank out of a flask of vodka while enjoying the show.

Big Congo knelt down behind Nadia, and the unthinkable was so unthinkable that the universe stood still as the overweight Negro stoops down and amorously licks Nadia's snow-white buns! The brutally foreign stranger kisses the foreign girl on the soft curves of her bottom. Senegal meets Russia. Mud meets ivory snow. Nadia bitterly cries. She feels each of his hot tongue strokes right down to the marrow of her bones. She's dead. Un-dead. Just breathing and still feeling sensations out of some wicked cruelty from Fate.

After much butt-licking, Big Congo offers himself the insane thrill of tapping his huge erection against Nadia's butt! He has always wanted to do a white girl! He loves this! He's colonizing her! The time he raped that German secretary was rushed and he had had to wait until all the white men were done, so the poor light-brown-haired girl was more dead than alive when he finally got his round of boom-boom inside her. But this girl here... she's a lot fresher! Only got used four times, which is nearly as good as new in his illiterate's book.

The well-read girl who fluently speaks several languages is to be raped by a brute who signs his name with one big fat X.

Time holds its breath and the sun is high amid the scudding clouds. Even the seagulls are quiet. Big Congo takes his long and big cigar and he gently shoves it inside Nadia's flower. Her knees feel it where they rest on Richard's shirt! Her elbows feel the weight against the deck! The Skipper sees the sensual expanse of her buns and smiles while smoking his pipe. She's even more beautiful against Big Congo! What a lovely day to be at sea. The ship quietly raises and descend with the regular waves as the tragedy unfolds, remote, far from the civilized world.

"AAAHH AAAAAAAHH..." Nadia hears from Big Congo as he heats her waist with his hammy hands and he begins to gently pound her, gaining a bit more depth inside her with each thrust and clearly easing his big thing inside her distended pussy.

Raping her gently means more time to enjoy how tight she is! It also forces Nadia to feel grateful in a very twisted way as the rams inside her get surprisingly deep and surprisingly easy to endure. Big Congo would actually make a not-so-bad husband. As the rape lingers on, Nadia remembers the many nights when Yakov her own husband forced himself on her and selfishly took his pleasure. Sex with Yakov was always brutal and usually far more painful than getting raped by this gentle Negro.

And yet he picks up steam and heat as his pleasure mounts within him. Keeping steady hands on her slim waist, the overweight Negro is now grunting like an absolute orangutan as he proudly feeds her with heavy strokes that shakes the world each and every time he smacks her flattened buttocks, his smile wide and wild. Frothing slobber dripping down the corner of his mouth. Now he's fucking a white girl nice and proper!

Nadia barely realizes how deeply she's taken him as she submissively whimpers under Senegal's empire, her mind also raped and forced to picture herself as a Dixieland girl gang-raped by coloured soldiers in some dark-blue-soldiers-ransacked mansion in Georgia, her debasement an offense and a powerful statement against the living room's lavishness as each Negro takes his turn. Gang-raped with white officers watching and enjoying the sight after first taking their turns inside her.

She doesn't want to come, but she does, as silently as she can, camouflaging her shame amid her sobs as her head hangs down and she feels the deck's bitter wood against her elbows, her small body taking an uncountable amount of punishment. She hates this! She hates herself and she hates the world! How can she still be alive?

Big Congo is grunting louder and his strokes are getting urgent. Nadia knows he's about to come. She nearly vomits in horror!

The coloured sailor is suddenly taken by a fit of God's delight!

He stands proud and tall on his knees and clutches the crease of her hips so hard that Nadia yelps in pain as her knees leave the deck and he blasts his bliss-filled eruption and he half-yells, half-screams his unbridled joy at the heavens! Ejaculating inside a white girl feels so amazing! And the best of it is to know he's going to enjoy her again!

They leave Nadia like this, naked barring her wide-open, button-less blouse and her now-dirty jacket. Contemplating the priceless grace of her legs and feet as she lies down on a fishnet, with a generous rivulet of Negro semen spilling out of her entrance. She bitterly sobs. Her tears have dried up.

TO BE CONTINUED.