Red Sunset

[HistBuff]

Fascinating, both the Olga and Tatiana bits -- going from the pinnacle of society, from honorary colonelcies and ships named after them, all the way to this -- and the hot Sidorov/Sonja, whose fantasies seem slightly familiar.

Lucius. This is the chapter where I start giving the perspective of the Romanov themselves, thanks to my multiple-narrator structure. Sidorov isn't the most lawful husband As opposed to the vast majority of men aged 45+, he can't say no to a horny 20-year-old

[HistBuff]

Note: I took great care in adapting this chapter for this site. My rule of thumb when going through a scene involving an underage character is to make sure the scene would have been accepted in a film during the Code era.

Chapter 6: A Mad Ship

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shut up and sing!" Herkus ordered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Captain Sidorov's thoughts...

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

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

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

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

***



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You mean last night..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Captain Sidorov's thoughts...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ivan! I feel so funny... I love you!" Shvibzik finally says, looking deep into my eyes. The moment is so magically suspended in eternity that I forget she's Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanova, youngest daughter of the former Czar. She's simply the merry girl I played colorito with two days ago.

"I love you too. You're a wonderful girl, Nastya!"

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

We kiss again. It's magic. I hold her hands and kiss her and she kisses me back with the ravenous despair of a girl in love whose world has collapsed from under her feet. Why can't this last forever?

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

"The Kommissar wants to see you, Komroty!"

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

"He wants to see you right now!"

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

"At your orders, Komroty!"

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

I keep kissing Anastasia and we share the precious moment.

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

I just nod. She's so beautiful! Her cornflower blue eyes are lakes of happiness as she looks deep into me. I'm happy to give her an oasis of mirth and passion in the bleak desert she's going through.

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

"So we must part ways..."

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

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

"Please, Ivan, hold me! Love, I love being with you! It's so sad! So sad we can't..."

I did what she asked and loved it. I held her to my heart as she gently rested her head against my chest, the White Grand Duchess nestled against the uniformed bosom of the officer from the Workers' and Peasants' Red Army. The girl in love holding the smitten grown man. She was silently crying. Poor Nastya! In love for the first time, only to find herself unable to be with her love. And yet, without the Revolution, we would never have played colorito together.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



***

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I can't wait to fuck her!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Little Czarist bitch!"

"She needs a solid diet of Bolshevik cocks!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AHH-NIIEEET AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"AAAAAAAAAAAAYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHRRR AAAHR AHAA AAAAAAAAHRRRR oooooooooh!!!"

"Small girl, big load!" Herkus yelled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not so proud now, Milady!"

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

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

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

"Small girl, big load!"

"Small girl, big load!"

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

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

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

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

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

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


Chapter to be continued.

[Lucius]

Very hot!

Baron was always a title used by noble houses of foreign origin, the title of feudal Prince or Grand Prince being reserved for the Russian and Ukrainian houses, who also used Count, or Graf, since the days of Peter the Great.

There were a few 'Russian Russian' baronial families like the Cherkasovs, the Rogovikovs, Paskhin, but they were viewed even back then as odd exceptions indeed.

"Don't worry, lovely dievushka, we're gonna go easy on you, because you understand Lithuanian."

The importance of knowing Lithuanian!

[LaLia]

Another exciting story! Especially since I don't usually enjoy stories set long before our time. I particularly appreciate how you manage to write in the first person while still incorporating so much information. It's something that's much easier to do in the third person.

Overall, you've once again succeeded in crafting a story that would still work well in a more family-friendly version – meaning it would be perfectly fine without any sexual violence.

[HistBuff]

Very hot!

Baron was always a title used by noble houses of foreign origin, the title of feudal Prince or Grand Prince being reserved for the Russian and Ukrainian houses, who also used Count, or Graf, since the days of Peter the Great.

There were a few 'Russian Russian' baronial families like the Cherkasovs, the Rogovikovs, Paskhin, but they were viewed even back then as odd exceptions indeed.

"Don't worry, lovely dievushka, we're gonna go easy on you, because you understand Lithuanian."

The importance of knowing Lithuanian!

Thanks, @Lucius !

This shows the importance of doing some researching, even when there's no pretense at strict historical accuracy (it would be really tedious and take an absurd amount of time). But yeah, since I wanted Tamara to understand everything the Lithuanians said, I made her the daughter of a Baron from an old Pomeranian house who had a castle in Lithuania. She could even be astonishingly liberated shortly after this, say in June or early July and travel back to her father's castle, only to get gang-raped again in December or early 1919 when the Bolsheviks enter Lithuania. Tamara is in serious contention for becoming my all-time favourite character. She's exactly the type of girl I fantasize about, in the hands of gross brigands.

I also love the fact she doesn't speak French (and was mocked for this at the Czar's court). For me, this makes her exotic! I'll probably have her read aloud a book in German she loves, because I would be delighted to hear her German voice. A brunette who speaks softly in German is very erotic to me. French was the primary language of high society, diplomacy, and culture among the Russian aristocracy. Tamara was much more like a country noble who felt inadequate when she came to Saint Petersburg four years prior.

I also made Tamara a Baroness to avoid any confusion with Countess Hendrikoff, who understands nothing of Lithuanian, but she does speak French (and this doesn't really help her here).

[HistBuff]

Another exciting story! Especially since I don't usually enjoy stories set long before our time. I particularly appreciate how you manage to write in the first person while still incorporating so much information. It's something that's much easier to do in the third person.

Overall, you've once again succeeded in crafting a story that would still work well in a more family-friendly version – meaning it would be perfectly fine without any sexual violence.

Thanks @LaLia ! Good to see you again!

This story also has subchapters in the third person. I clearly separate the subchapters with titles such as "Sidorov's thoughts" to avoid any confusion. When there's no such subtitle, then the narration is in the third person and I think this is clearly felt by readers. Changing points of view is especially handy when so many things are occuring at the same time, like on a ship with 100+ people on board!

For me, a story isn't worth writing if it can't work without the sex scenes. I could absolutely write this story following the rules of the Code era and leaving the rapes implicit by only showing the state of the girls after, without nudity. Even then, the readers would feel the sense of horror. Code-era rules are what I apply to any scene with an underage character --- kissing is OK, but anything more is a no-no. Anyway, Tamara is 19 and as graceful as an angel. She's entirely fictional, because other than Countess Hendrikoff, the other women in the retinue were in their 30s and beyond, and I can't picture the Lithuanians choosing such older women when they could grab the young serving maids. Men going for the younger prettier ones is the most realistic thing I can think of.

Girls like Tamara are a huge fantasy of mine! I was delighted to write her rape scenes. I'm always glad to remember that some female readers enjoy the fantasy of being grabbed and gang-raped by ill-shaven drunkards on the deck of a ship.

[HistBuff]

Chapter 6: A Mad Ship (continued)

Note: This is a long chapter in the original version elsewhere on the Web. For this site, I have to post it in two installments, one with the focus on Tamara, and this one with Countess Hendrikoff. When so many things are happening at once, you can go back in time and describe the events from another perspective. More fun! I'm showing what no movie will show.

***



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fourth was perhaps the prettiest of all, at least for men who loved petite girls; she had warm brown hair, almost chestnut, but a shade darker, that gracefully reached down to the small of her back. Her fairy's feet were so dainty it could nearly cause a man with such tastes to ejaculate on the spot! The smallness of her ankles was like the rest of her. The Lithuanians let out wows of pure fascination as they gleefully ripped her nightgown and let her naked body breathe some evening air under the glowing torches and lanterns. She was a bit less than five feet tall with tits that screamed her virginity. Perky breasts she had! And their blossoming softness enthralled every man around her, turning him into a transfixed stone golem!

The Lithuanians didn't care about her name. They only cared about touching her everywhere and filling her with sperm. If she had tits and hair on her cunt, then she was good enough to be gang-raped. Their state of madness abolished any decency in them. The poor girl was amid a pack of frienzed savages who only had one thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! OOOOOOOOOOOhh..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Lucius]

That's some orgy, the Countess of Cocks... on the Ship of Fucks.

[HistBuff]

That's some orgy, the Countess of Cocks... on the Ship of Fucks.

Thanks, @Lucius ! That's a fun part in the story. It would still work as a novel, the only difference being all the sex scenes hold the same space in it as they do in the thoughts of the protagonists, both on the giving and receiving ends.

[HistBuff]

Chapter 7: Rape In Red

Everything was quiet and silent in the cabin where Olga slept close to Tatiana. Fore of the ship and downstairs, they were far enough from the Lithuanians, whose rowdy celebrations were but a distant roar. They were also well guarded. The grand duchesses had noticed Rodionov had doubled the guard protecting the access to their cabins. It seemed all fifteen men of the inner guard were on duty. As soon as she was done with her usual prayers before bed, Olga had joined her sister in her bed, because she said she was restless and couldn't sleep.

"All right, but no wandering hands! I know you, OIga, but I don't share this penchant of yours and besides, I'm exhausted! Good night, Olga."

"Good night, Tania. I love your hair and..."

"Olga! Good night!"

Tatiana was shortly asleep while Olga gently pressed herself against her beloved sister and spooned her, feeling her buttocks against her lap. Olga was getting wet. What if she masturbated? Quietly... As she began to pleasure herself using her hand, Olga remembered what she had heard from Nastya's cabin. She had heard everything! She knew Nastya and Sidorov had kissed. Tatiana also had heard through the thin walls, and Olga had seen the cold anger in her face, but Tania had also heard Nastya was happy. Perhaps fate had something terrible, horrible in store for them, and Tania had felt it was better not to say or do anything, to let Nastya have her first love, because this could also be her last. Olga felt the same way. Nastya had sounded like a girl in love, indeed, although she had cried herself to sleep right after.

Olga rolled away from Tania until she lay on her other side, where she was free to actively press her hand on her sex while raising her nightgown. As she began to utter low whimpers and got positively wet, Olga Romanova imagined she was being fucked and passed around between both Sidorov and Dimitri. She then imagined Countess Hendrikoff! She suddenly had the crazy idea of going upstairs, but this was impossible. Olga felt Tania's buttocks against hers and settled for this. She went further in her solo session.

In the theatre of Olga's mind, Countess Hendrikoff was grabbed and pulled out of her cabin by the Lithuanians, who then gang-raped her on deck. The Countess was stripped until she was naked under the deck's lanterns, amid their jeers, under their grunts, and she was so beautiful! She role-played a Lithuanian soldier who proceeded to give the Countess cunnilingus. Olga pressed her hand down there more actively and began to utter low moans that probably reached the sentries who stood just beyond the cabin's ajar door. The Countess wasn't protesting; she told the soldiers she was ready to be fucked, ready for all of them! The Countess's dark pubic triangle became Olga's world. She even opened her mouth and moved her head just as if she were licking that plate of pussy hair.

Then she felt something stirring. She heard something too. Tania's buttocks moved away from her. There were some feeble whimpers. Coming from Tania. Olga moved herself around and through the satin darkness, her eyes saw enough to see what Tania was doing. Tania was now lying on her back and... playing with herself. Tania was making feeble whimpers as she did her utmost to keep her noises down, for she was quickly reaching a state of high arousal. Olga watched and listened, growing soaking wet! She loved what her sister sounded like when having sex with herself. Tania was whispering things...

"aahh... aa, aaa, yes! Yes! The guards are upon me! They're giving me their mouth down... down there... I'm enraged! I scream at them. How dare they... ahh, aaah, but their mouth! Inside me, their tongues... One after the other, they, aaahhh, aaah, use their tongues and and aaah... force me to... to reach... to explode... aaah aaahh aaaahh... And then, then, they... they rape me... Each one of th-them... I scream louder... I'm so angry! Enraged! But... But all of them... One by one they... F-fuck me!!!! Fuck me!!! Sidorov, Dimitri, Boris and all the others! They all fuck me!!! AAAaahh aaaaah aaaaahh aaaaaah... I sur-surrender! Aaah aaaa aaaa yes! Yes! Yes! I... I refuse... They take me anyway--aaaah aaaaa aaaa aaaa no! No! Yes! Yeee eeeeeeeehss!!!"

Olga had moved herself under the sheets, where she found her way between Tania's legs. Tania didn't resist when Olga moved her hand aside and began to lick her wet entrance, ravenously, while also pleasuring herself as she was on her knees with her face smack down on Tania's cunt. She kept on, now picturing it was Tania who was getting gang-raped on deck by the Lithuanians, and the fantasy fed the build-up to her climax from her frantic hand. Tania smelled fragrant, like strong sourdough, mixed with notes of ammonia from urine and a definite taste of iron from blood. Olga kept pleasuring her younger sister until she felt Tania was trembling. Tania violently imploded in a flourish of groaning! Olga kept darting her tongue as fast as she could and a man's hand tossed her own hand away from her own entrance, and then she felt something entering her pussy while a pair of male hands grabbed her waist!

She didn't say anything, tried not to panic. It was a sentry! He had heard their moans and had walked right inside the cabin. Olga wanted to resist, but she froze, and she also remembered what she had agreed to with Tania. They would sacrifice their own body to protect Nastya, and to protect the gems. The sentry kneeling on the bed behind her had removed the sheets and the blanket; he began to rape her while she was on all fours and resting on her elbows with her face still pressed against Tania's sourdough-smelling cunt, and only then she became aware of something that tasted like iron, something wet on her tongue, joined by something quietly sugary amid this debauchery of yeast-smelling blood, while Tania was lost in her paradise as her moans clashed against the sentry's grunts.

Olga forced herself to do what every fibre of her body revolted against; she did nothing, just kept pleasuring Tania while the sentry, whoever he was, reaffirmed his grip on her waist and kept forcefully enjoying himself inside her. He went at it deep, steady and quiet. She heard his low grunts and his satisfied moans. She remained frozen and kept twirling her tongue right at the spot Tania responded to the strongest. The quiet cabin was now filled with Tania's arousal smell and muffled sounds along with the sentry's bliss-filled grunts.

Tania shivered in Olga's hands. Olga felt her sister's climax through her thighs as she licked Tania's patch of hair. Tania was hitting her exploding state of blindness, unaware there was a man raping her sister in the dark.

The sentry groaned a bit louder, and Olga felt how incredibly aroused he was through the shivering of his hands where he held the crease of her hips while now frantically thrusting himself inside her; she could tell he was almost done.

"aaaaAAa aaaaAAAahhhNNNNN NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN..." uttered the sentry as he spewed raging ropes of semen inside Grand Duchess Olga Romanova. The cabin's lamp was suddenly set ablaze and a gang of several guards materialized, all of them grinning, with Boris and Oleg the brutish peasant in front, all standing right beside Tania's bed and towering over both sisters.

"Dimitri! You began without us!"

"Bah, he outranks us! He has the first pick anyway!" said a guard by the name of Sergei.

"Wh-What are you doing here!" Tatiana snarled. "Get out of here! Get out! At once!"

"Poh poh, your Imperial Highness! We thought you felt lonely!" Boris said. "We thought you would love it if we made a special call on you and give you what you most crave!"

"Are you sick? I'd rather die than give myself to you!" Tatiana snarled, her voice even more poisonous, eyes blazing at the invaders as if she was sure they were going to turn into stone.

Olga remained frozen as men lifted her off Tania's bunk and shoved her on her own bed, which had not been slept in. Then a voracious trio of men made short work of her nightgown; the sharp sounds of tearing fabric stunned Olga in being even more frozen. Her mouth was open in a silent scream as they commented on how beautiful she looked naked. She was still only twenty-two years of age and she felt how all three soldiers loved to touch her legs and her breasts, one of which disappeared inside Sergei's mouth, and Olga was assaulted by a rush of arousal, since her breasts were extremely responsive. Someone whistled and commented on her warm brown nipples and the neat circles she had for areolas. Another said she was even whiter and more gorgeous than he had thought. She heard Tatiana's snarling protests and her angry threats while hearing the ripping-fabric sounds as the others urgently stripped Tania, whose rage predictably increased ten-fold.

"I'll have you hanged! I'm Grand Duchess Tatiana Romanova! I command you to stop this!!!" Tatiana snarled.

"You command absolutely nothing!" Boris replied and then slapped her hard. And as she was stunned, the strong countryman shook Tatiana like a shrub lost in a hurricane! Her uncovered breasts jiggled in a tumult of regal white skin. He then pulled her shredded nightgown all the way off her, and with rage he pulled its remains down her torso, her hips and then all along her legs, which he propped up, ignoring her outburst of rage. The erotic, slender lines of her half-bent legs were sensually revealed along with the grace of her feet as the torn mess of her nightgown was brutally pulled past and away from her feet. The leggy Grand Duchess lay naked amid her attackers! They crudely felt her regal legs as they whistled and catcalled.

"I'm the Grand Duchess!!! You will regret this! Stop at once! Guards! Guards!"

"WE are the guards, Your Highness! Hey boys, hold her still! Let me teach her her fist lesson on how to be a good Soviet citizen! Hrrrhhh!!!"

As he spoke, Boris unbuttoned and dropped his trousers, standing on his knees between Tatiana's imperially white legs.

Tatiana's face was a terrified mask of Gorgon-like fury. She kept frantically screaming. She was Grand Duchess! How dare they!! Oleg was holding both her ankles while Boris laid himself on top of her, while the pair of men restraining her arms above her angry face had great difficulty holding her in place as her wrists seemed to be possessed by the Devil!

"You'll be quartered! Burned alive! I command you! Stop! You will not get away with this!!" Tatiana kept bellowing. Boris gave her a quick slap, for humiliation rather than pain.

Olga, Eve-naked, was quickly positioned on all fours on her own bed and a first uniformed guard soon entered inside her and smiled like a king as he began to pound her, the bunk creaking under her knees and elbows as he commented on how wet she already was, and how tight and good she felt! He was soon emitting guttural moans in rhythm with the steady hot pounding he gave the elder Grand Duchess.

Tatiana's face was twisted with rage! She spat in Boris's face as he restrained her and fought for position, then he slapped Tatiana two more times, then he barked, "Stop moving or we'll get your little sister and she'll take your place!"

The threat on Nastya had an immediate effect on Tatiana, who went silent as she remembered the plan she had agreed to with Olga. Sacrificing their body to protect Nastya and the "medicines" sewn in their corsets.

Boris was thus able to take possession of Tatiana's pure-bred pussy. "Wow! She's all wet! Aaahh wow!!! I can't believe it! I'm fucking a Grand Duchess!" Boris bellowed, his eyes exploding with vulgar joy as he began to pound Tatiana, whose regal face, as upset as she was, fed the fire of his lust as he got acquainted with the narrow, intense pleasure inside her. "Hrrr rrr rrr rr RRR rRRR Aarhyeahh! We won! We fuck their women! I'm fucking the Grand Duchess Romanov! Fucking fucking her and this is so God-damned good!!! AArrh aaah aahrrr ahhrrrr!!! Take this, bitch! Hrrrr! Yer time blood-sucking hungry peasants is over--Aaayyaaarrrrhhh! Revenge! Revenge! Now the peasants turn on you, aaahrr! They're hungry for you and your butt! Yeaaahrrr... rr rrr rrrr rrrrrhh, yeah!"

Tatiana started to cry under Boris, who sweat freely on her regal face, soon adding a shimmer of shame to her enraged features. Worse, the man was slobbering all over her! He was licking her noble features, where pride and rage soon morphed into an expression of hatred, terror and shame.

"AAAAANNNNNNNNNNGHGGGGH ddjjhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH... aaaahhh Winning feels so good! Thank you, Your Highness! Raping you is a lot of fun and I'll be back. I'm sure you'll thank us later for the ride!"

Such were the final roar and words Boris had for Tatiana, whose profound eyes of aquatic blue were wet with sorrow and ablaze with rage, hatred and fear.

"AAAAAAAAABNNN HRRR HRRR HRRR HRRR HRRR RRRRR... RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHH!!! Aaah, Citizen Olga! I love your pussy!" declared Sergei as he pulled out of Olga. "You'll see, boys, she's a very good fuck! Isn't that right, Dimitri?"

Dimitri had left. The men crowding the cabin raised their shoulders and simply proceeded to take their turns inside Olga and Tatiana.

"Come on, guys! Give them something to remember! They need a strong diet of Red cocks!"

"Our cocks are just that, red!" Boris exclaimed and laughed as he showed how red his spent cock was.

"She's having her month! Fuck!" someone said.

"Me too!" said Sergei. Both sisters were indeed in that time of their month.

They gave Tatiana more opportunities to freely yell at them and express her outrage and make loud empty threats while no less than five men came to her and crushed her sense of pride and honour under a barrage of ramming strokes, using her in the same position as Boris, flat on her back. Each time a man was done, he gave a nice round of licking and kissing to her breasts while Tatiana kept angrily yelling at them. The cabin was filled with Tatiana's screams of outrage, the guards' victorious grunting and the smacking sounds of Olga's butt against the rest of the guards.

It was quite a shock for Olga to hear her naked butt being whistled and catcalled by those vulgar soldiers. She had had kings bowing before her, she used to be worshiped by men who were required by law to keep their distance away from her royal person. And now she was fuck meat for Bolshevik thugs. The strange thing was, there were notes and flickers of high pleasure with each one of their thrusts inside her. Her thoughts led her to imagine Countess Hendrikoff in the same predicament, and this caused her to begin adding moans to her whimpers as the barrage of Red cocks went on unabated. This while Tatiana kept filling the cabin with her outraged yells and empty threats.

Olga didn't hear anything from Nastya's cabin. This was a miracle! She praised God while her own gang-rape went on.

It was a given that Tatiana would be raped on her back, so they would all see her haughty expression morph from outraged anger into an expression of submissive fright. Olga would be there for any man who preferred to have a Grand Duchess from behind. They all had observed through her dress that she was indeed well-shaped where she sat. Olga's child-bearing hips and hour-glass figure were vulgar tropes in their daily chats during and between meals.

***

Nastya had cried herself to sleep. She dreamed. She dreamed she was soaring through the sky, riding a white dragon with a golden mane. She would sleep soundly and wake up well rested next morning.

Would she?

When something was firmly pressed on her mouth, she felt it was a dream turning into a nightmare. Then, there were hands grabbing her ankles and also her arms and shoulders.

"Let's go! Take the youngster and upstairs we go! To the Skipper's cabin! Quietly!" Kommissar Rodionov whispered.

Nastya wanted to call her sisters, to call Ivan. She panicked as she realized she was fully awake and being carried away. There were men around her, carrying her away. She could tell they were being as stealthy as possible. She heard jokes exchanged between other whispering men. She was being carried off, now passing her sisters' cabin, where all was dark and silent.

"Don't worry, my dear. There's unrest on the ship and trouble with the Lithuanians," a voice she loathed whispered to her ear. "We're taking you where you'll be safe."

Rodionov! It was Rodionov speaking to her! What was this? Where was Ivan? She couldn't move, couldn't say anything! These were strong peasants restraining her. Peasants in uniform.

"Let me go! Let me go!!!" Nastya would have yelled if that pressing hand wasn't silencing her as they carried her upstairs, and for a brief time, she felt the evening breeze on her face and heard the Lithuanians shouting, whistling and catcalling in the midst of some festivities on deck, before she was taken indoors again and to a large cabin with a bed that looked comfortable.

The Skipper was there, wearing a smile that didn't comfort her in the least as he nodded at her with his respectable-looking silver moustache and wearing his worn-out peak-cap in a slanted manner that accentuated his raw figure. Another sailor was there, this one younger, perhaps thirty-something, wearing a well-trimmed beard and a neat frock coat of dark fabric with three golden stripes down his sleeve. His peak-cap looked brand new, but he wore the same sort of fake smile as the Skipper.

The men finally put her down and made her nod and promise she wouldn't scream.

As soon as they released her, she tried to bolt toward the door, but was restrained by two guards by the name of Stefan and Yuri.

"NOO! LEMME GO! LEMME GO!!! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!" Nastya protested.

"You may not go without, young lady. It's not safe on deck!" Romanov said, his voice assertive, his expression trying to be friendly.

"Where is Ivan? I wanna see him! Where is he Where is he Where is he?"

"Calm down, young lady! Ivan is busy negociating with the unruly Lithuanians. He'll be back shortly. In the meantime, please, take a seat and play some rummy with us."

As he spoke, Rodionov gestured at the Skipper's table, where a large map had been tossed aside to make space. Playing cards were spread over this space where these men had been drinking and smoking while playing rummy.

"I want to see Ivan! Where is he? Why aren't you bringing my sisters here too? I wanna see them!"

"Calm down, my dear. Please do take a seat, have a drink with us," Rodionov said as he poured cognac in a small glass.

"I... When will Ivan be back, you say? P... Please, would you go fetch my game of colorito? It's in my things downstairs," replied Nastya, feeling suddenly tired and sleepy as Stefan and Yuri nudged her into sitting at the table, where she took the glass and smelled the liquor, while Rodionov gestured to another guard who immediately vanished out the door.

"Mh... Father and Mother don't want me to drink strong liquor."

"Taste it, it's very good. You need it. Best remedy if you're agitated," Rodionov said.

Nastya tasted the cognac. She expected it to be vile, just as vile as the chai she had been served on the ship, but this liquor actually tasted pleasant. She took another sip and nodded as three men including the Skipper took seats at the table.

"You know how to play rummy, I think."

Nastya nodded. She understood that trying to escape would do no good. And if she openly called out Rodionov and said he was trying to deceive her, he would only double down and try to deceive her more. He was not to be trusted. In the fog of her growing slumber, she felt her best course of action was to hope Ivan would soon show up. From the way he had kissed her earlier that day, he would soon be looking for her. She had hoped he would come and join her in her cabin so they could kiss more. She had had a very long day. She yawned as she received her cards, trying to concentrate on the game as she sipped some more cognac. The more she drank, the more excellent the golden liquor tasted. She yawned again. She felt sleepy, eyes closing on their own.

The Skipper got up and poured himself some more cognac while Rodionov took Nastya in his arms and carried her to bed.

"This little angel is dog-tired. She'll be much better in your bed, Skipper. You sure don't mind!"

"Not in the least, Kommissar. I'm happy to help the Soviets, and besides, my bed won't have smelled so good in a great many years! Very pretty!" the Skipper said as he looked at Nastya, who was only wearing her nightgown. Nastya was already in deep slumber.

Rodionov made sure Nastya was comfortable under the blankets before taking his seat back around the playing cards.

"Ha! Ha! Ha! What a strange babysitter you make! Sorry, Komrade, no offense, but it's so... improbable!" Yuri said as he winked to Stefan, who wanted to say something.

"No, not a word, Stefan! I know what you're thinking!" Rodionov told his subordinate.

"But we..."

"Not a word I say!"

"But Kommissar..."

"Look, Stefan, you can go on deck and take your pick. They are taking Tamara Palhen, you know, this quiet troubled girl who has long raven hair and a body to die for under her dress! They're having Countess Hendrikoff. You can even go downstairs and take your liberties with her elder sisters, but we do not touch the youngster!"

Stefan hit the table with his fist and stormed out of the cabin. "This isn't what we agreed on!" he said as he walked out the door.

"You're drunk, Stefan!" the Kommissar replied.

"Tail him!" Rodionov ordered both guards at the door. "Tail him and make sure he doesn't try anything stupid."

"This cognac is most excellent! What vintage did you say it was, ooowh! What the?! ...." As he spoke, the Skipper held his chest, his left arm shivering. He looked at the men around him, especially the First Mate, as if to silently say he was all right, and tried to steady himself, but he fell down his chair and lay down on his stomach.

He stirred, trying to get back up, and he managed to... He had a short bout of convulsions where he growled some words, "Nastya, I... love you..."

He struggled and again tried to get back up for three or four seconds, then lay motionless on his stomach. His thoughts were for a Nastya he had loved, but couldn't marry forty years before, back when he was only nineteen. She was also a princess.

Rodionov knelt down next to him and checked his pulse.

"Dead!" he said.

The First Mate cursed and also knelt down at the Skipper's side, his dapper uniform contrasting with the Skipper's. "Shit! He's dead all right!" the ship's first officer said with a Lithuanian accent. All men present were shocked. Rodionov looked more annoyed than anything.

Sensing something extraordinary was happening, Nastya woke up and screamed in horror as she saw the Skipper. She tried to run from the bed and outside, but her legs betrayed her and the exhausted girl stumbled and fell, and was caught by Yuri, who carried her to bed again.

"What a strange babysitter YOU make, Yuri! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" Rodionov said as he laughed while standing over the dead Skipper's body.

The First Mate poured himself a glass of prime-rate vodka, smiling as he sat back at the table and lighted himself a Cuban cigar. He had just been promoted to Captain of the Russ. He was sure the company would confirm his promotion and find it easier to promote a replacement for the third mate among the crewmen. These were troubled times.

Nastya had fallen asleep again.

With immense adoration, Rodionov put the blankets on her again. "Sweet dreams, little angel!"

***

Downstairs, Tatiana had vodka poured on her breasts while her guards passed her around. For Olga, no less than five guards, all of them grinning and jeering, were taking their second rounds of fun inside her, giving her a constant homage on the ever-creaking bed where she was still being fuck-dolled on all fours. The beautiful vastness of her buttocks kept being flattened against her guards as her deep whimpers filled the cabin she shared with Tatiana.

In the cabin facing the gang-rape, Mr. Gibbes the English tutor heard it all. He would never forget Tatiana's angry yells and Olga's pitiful whimpers. He would go on to write an account of his time where he followed the Imperial family in captivity. In his recollection of this particular river trip on the Russ, Gibbes would state that he heard these yells and whimpers, and many terrified screams as the guards terrorized the poor girls during the night.

At one point, the second mate showed up along with two boys, or rather one grown man and a boy, who would prove to be the ultimate shame for Olga and Tatiana. They were negroes! Stewards serving them their meals. It was also at this time that Captain Sidorov came downstairs to partake, followed by a small squad of Lithuanians and a couple of sailors in the form of three mechanics running the ship's steam motor and shoving coal using the strength of their tattooed arms. All were thrilled, immensely so, as they were about to learn what fucking a Grand Duchess feels like. That's when Olga would get her breasts smeared with grease from the mechanics.

"This is getting crowded here," Sidorov observed. "You and you, take Tatiana to the other cabin. The youngster isn't there."

Tatiana was thus lifted off her bed and carried off to Nastya's empty cabin. Sidorov was insanely worried about Nastya, but blocked his thoughts about her, or tried to. He trusted Dimitri to shield her.

In the other cabin, Olga was finally allowed to leave her rape position and given the kindness of a bathroom break where she had to pee in the chamber pot with several men watching, and even groping her buttocks.

"Now, Tatiana, let's see how proud and haughty you are with a cock inside you!" Sidorov snarled at Tatiana, whose rage oozed from her sea-blue eyes while she was kept firmly pinned on Nastya's bed, by guards who grinned down on her, this while a tattooed sailor, both stewards and Lithuanians were masturbating and waited for the pleasure.

"Don't you dare touch me! And you shall address me as Your Highness!" Tatiana snarled back as she helplessly watched Sidorov produce his cock. He smiled as he looked at her with an air of smug pride. He began to masturbate, smiling down on her as he brought his tired cock to an acceptable fuck-ready state.

"I'm tired from my gentleman's call on Countess Hendrikoff, so with all due respect, Your Highness, I'll be able to stay inside you a LOT longer, ooh, you're my sweet beautiful Tatiana!"

"Don't you call me that!" she snarled. "I'll have you shot! I'll have you marinated in acid, then roasted slowly and a tame baboon will chew off your cock while you roast!"

"Shut up, Your Highness!" Sidorov said as he pulled out his Nagant and put the revolver inside her mouth! Tatiana peed herself out of fright as he began to make her suck his Nagant!

"Now, that's better!" the Captain said as he slid the barrel inside Tatiana's mouth, her eyes shocked with terror and indignation as she felt and tasted the dangerously cold steel, this while Olga was kept whimpering in the next cabin. Mr. Gibbes was hearing everything!

"Buckaroo! Buckaroo!" the Lithuanians chanted, worshiping Captain Sidorov, whose revolver seemed to like Tatiana's slobber.

"Enough foreplay! Now, let's see what a Grand Duchess feels like!"

"She's having her month, sir!" Boris said.

"All the best! Then she'll enjoy a true Red Army rape! She deserves it! So let's have her drown in our sperm, Comrades!"

After putting his Nagant back into its holster, where he would eventually have engraved an inscription saying "a Grand Duchess liked me", Ivan Sidorov, whistling and as happy as a king, went down on Tatiana and began to kiss her cunt hair as she bucked, screamed while greatly squirming in the men's collective grip. She kept yelling and cursing, angrier than ever while Sidorov ate her pussy, not minding the vile-tasting semen down there, and even enjoying the iron taste of her menstrual blood, in an extreme state of victorious agitation.

It got even better when he allowed himself to suck Tatiana's breasts, smearing them with some of the blood his mouth carried from her cunt. She filled the cabin with her angry curses and yells, threatening him with the worst tortures as he morally tortured her breasts with the skill of his mouth, thus forcing notes of physical pleasure on her. Tatiana had beautiful breasts, neither too small nor too large, and with royal circles for areolas and nipples that were firm and strong, of a warm light brown that seemed to melt in Sidorov's mouth.

Sidorov went stiff and wanted more while circling his tongue around her nipples, his hands unable to stop kneading her baby-soft breasts. You could tell Tatiana was only twenty. She tasted like spring.

Then, and only then, with Tatiana cursing louder than ever, Sidorov settled himself between her legs while urgently freeing his stiff cock, and then he forced his mad erection inside her month-bloody cunt! As he began to rape her, he looked at her directly and took immense delight in seeing her so angry and indignant! That was exactly how he had wished to rape Tatiana--To rape her while she was angry and cursing and threatening him! This was perfect!

Sidorov enjoyed this gift of life in a loud-grunting silence. The opportunity to rape a Grand Duchess didn't come every day. He lost all sense of honour as he abandoned himself to the primitive nature of this simple act of breeding with Tatiana Romanova, and the insane satisfaction of doing so against her will.

Her fists tight with rage, Tatiana spat in his face time and time again. Sidorov didn't care. He just kept plowing her. He just raped her even harder! Resting on his elbows where he could watch her at his full leisure, the Bolshevik officer kept enjoying Tatiana's imperial tightness along with the music of her enraged screams.

The jiggling play of Tatiana's breasts was a potent aphrodisiac that caused him to further swell and harden inside her. Sensing the end close at hand, Sidorov switched positions. He stood on his knees, and then took her hips and lifted her butt off the bed! Helped by the guards restraining her, while enjoying the husky music of her protests, Sidorov penetrated her again, powerfully so!

And then he went all out! Holding her waist, he drove her hard and caused her lovely tits to jiggle in a frenzied, unwilling dance as she screamed more profanities, trying to kill him with her Homeric gaze! Her face like a young erotic version of the Gorgon! He was indeed turned into hot stone inside her. He gave her such powerful thrusts that she stopped yelling, her head lost in a confused bout of bobbing where her dark chestnut hair was a bobbing joy to behold! On Nastya's pillow. Her tits were jiggling harder than ever!

"Wow! She's even more beautiful like this!" Boris observed while caressing her leg where her royal skin was forced to keep brushing Sidorov's uniform. She looked even whiter against the dark khaki wool of his hated uniform. Captain Sidorov raped her savagely, uttering profanities amid his frenzied grunts. His face twisted from his gleeful straining, his lips wet with slobber froth and his eyes like fire as he kept gazing at the tumult of her beauty, he almost hit her head into the wall above the bed as he passed his edge!

"AARRHHH AAARRHH AARRRHHH YES!!! We're fucking their women! YES!!! AaahRR aaahRR aahR aahR aahR ahR aahrr... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARHR!!!"

Sidorov let Tatiana's butt fall back on Nastya's bed and fell on her! He had been stuck by thunder and cut in half! The ejaculation was so ungodly powerful! So satisfying! Madly so. Wonderful! This was not so small a small death.

He then kissed Tatiana as if she were his girl. She bit his tongue!!!

"You fucking harlot!" Sidorov said as he slapped her again, again and again, until Boris held his wrist.

"Don't kill her! I mean, Sir, she must be taken safely to Yekaterinburg. (And to Tatiana) I'm truly sorry for this, Your Highness, really sorry. But don't worry, we're just going to rape you and take our pleasure gently. I'll prove it to you soon when I rape you again. My cock's impatient to meet you again, Your Imperial Highness."

Sidorov then gave orders for the two black stewards to take their turns inside Tatiana, who shrieked in horror beyond words as she saw both negroes stripping themselves naked and showing her their brown cocks with pride written all over their tropical faces. The worst for her was to realize she actually found them handsome and their cocks looked respectable and inviting for her primal instincts. She, Tatiana Romanova of Russia, couldn't believe she was going to be double-raped by them.

"Grand Duchess Tatiana," the Second Mate said, "I'm sure you're going to love this! Their names are Fabrice and Keke Jean-Dire his son. They were born in Congo. Both are well-travelled, and well-endowed. Enjoy!"

In the other cabin, Olga now lay on her back with sailors playing with her breasts and running their grease-dirty hands all over her, especially insisting on the lush triangle of hairy estate she had down there, only supposed to be seen and enjoyed by kings and princes, but now an amusement park for tattooed sailors. She smelt the grease from the mechanics' hands. She had some on her breasts, but then vodka was poured there, and the leading seaman sucked them with unfathomable glee. He was the one with the thickest arms and looked like a man capable of lifting and carrying the ship's anchors. In his arms, Olga felt his raw strength and her body felt much confusion between moral loathing and her physical urges.

When she was being mounted by this same man and feeling his beastly strength inside her, Olga became overwhelmed by those physical urges, and as she began to moan and whimper under the man's barrage, in his tattooed arms and amid the general laughter from the guards and Lithuanians and sailors, she thought about her baby sister. "At least, Nastya's safe," she thought.

Upstairs, Rodionov was hugging Nastya as she cried and was frightened by the dead Skipper's body. The girl felt she must have been dreaming. There was the corpse wearing a worn-out naval officer's uniform from the last century and she felt Death would enter in the room this very moment and look right at her with its Scythe! She didn't like the Kommissar, but her fear of Death was strongest, so she rested her head on Rodionov's bosom and cried in fear, letting him stroke her hair as if he were her father! This while the other men kept smoking, drinking and playing cards while some distant rumors and screams were heard from outside. She fell asleep again.

Somewhere on the ship's deck, Dimitri was riddled with guilt. What had he done! Why did he let his own urges run away with him? He had left the youngster unattended, and she had vanished! Gone! Stolen! He gad failed his Captain! What was he going to do?

Dimitri saw Tamara, naked and whiter than ever where she lay on deck, looking incredibly graceful and erotic amid a bunch of sailors and Lithuanians who caressed and kissed her everywhere at once, like heated zealots. And then, the obese Polish cook bellowed that he wanted to have the little Baroness now. Dimitri had an idea.

"The girl's mine!" Dimitri said. Predictably, the cook got angry and a fistfight ensued. But Dimitri had underestimated his foe. This mountain of a man had been a prizefighter in his youth. He made short work of Dimitri, who got knocked out within ten seconds. Dimitri had meant to lose on purpose and let him hit him so he could tell Sidorov that Rodionov and Stefan had beaten him up and kidnapped Anastasia. But the cook's punches hurt a lot more than he had thought. A Lot more.

When he woke up and cleared the cobwebs, Dimitri saw the grossest scene he ever saw. And he fell hopelessly in love with Tamara's beauty. The obese cook was holding the naked Baron's daughter by the crease of her hips and raping her hard and good! In front of her father. The Polish cook looked like a naked ogre raping a diminutive girl with long black hair who looked tiny and graceful against him as the ogre fed her his heaviest thrusts while she received him on all fours, whimpering with astonished horror from knowing who was raping her so brutally.

All the slabs of his belly, his chest and his monstrous glutes all jiggled like crazy as he raped Tamara with loaded grunts! Dimitri couldn't believe what he saw! How erotic! The contrast! Tamara's dainty little body against this beast! Her vestal's butt forced to endure the monstrosity of his big hammy hands! She was so beautiful in his hands!

Dimitri often preferred men when he felt sexual. He seldom did. But on this occasion, his cock grew into a torpedo, like it had when he heard Olga with Tatiana and had rushed at Olga and raped her in the dark.

He was entranced! Moving slow like in a dream, still groggy, he managed to stand up next to this abomination of a rape, and began to masturbate. It was so beautiful to see Tamara's baby fat rolling on her cute buttocks with each hard stroke from the ogre. Her father the Baron was still watching, and going mad beyond remission.

"NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNRR GGGHGGH FFWWhh owwhhgg!!!!" was the cook's final flurry inside Tamara when his Polish sausage exploded like a planet with a titanic load of hot sludge as the ogre gave her the ultimate tribute.

"Small girl, big load!" shouted a sailor who had just fertilized the youngest serving maid. He had watched the whole thing with eager eyes.

"No hard feelings, bud!" the cook, still panting from his exertions, told Dimitri as he tapped his shoulder with his heavy hand, after he had wiped his large cock using Tamara's hair.

Dimitri rushed at Tamara!

He frantically moved her around, placing her on her back, and gleefully sucked her breasts like there was no tomorrow. Tamara felt the difference and welcomed the change in a weird way. Dimitri was handsome and graceful, the polar opposite from the ogre who had just used her. She arched her back, causing her breasts to rise against Dimitri's face, while running her fingers across his hair as his garrison cap got shoved off his light brown hair. She pressed his face to her cleavage and bizarrely welcomed his kisses there! In her fantasies, there was always a man kissing her cleavage after ripping her dress off.

Dimitri then fucked Tamara more than he raped her. Tamara was so far gone. Troubled! She let him fuck her. It wasn't really a rape, perhaps a grey rape, but would she have been in such a far-gone state without having been violated twenty times before? Dimitri fucked her like an animal and she wrapped her legs around him while moving herself to receive him deeper. She crossed ankles atop him and someone poured liquor on her feet. All around her stood a loud wall of jeers, cheers and whistling catcalls. All inside her was one valiant rapist that kept plowing her. The rapist she felt the least raped by. He was the most handsome rapist she had ever seen. He kept calling her beautiful amid his moans, and her own moans were sinfully glad to mingle with his.

Tamara moaned like a depraved bitch! Dimitri grunted like an ogre! He kissed her and she kissed him back! She stole the moment! Ripped it off from her nightmare, turning the thing into a grey oasis where lights and shadows weren't really as they seemed.

She reclaimed some agency as she decided she wasn't getting raped anymore. She was getting fucked.

"You can all come and fuck me! Even you, Father!" Tamara suddenly shouted just as she climaxed under Dimitri and his madly renewed strokes! Dimitri came inside her with a loud yelp of moaning pain mixed with bliss, spewing raging bolts of hot seed as she tightened the seal of her legs around her prisoner while some hobo sailor was kissing her feet. She was fucked and fucked good.

Tamara's unfortunate statement gave new life to the orgy of her rape. Some Lithuanians knew enough Russian to understand her invitation and they took it to the letter, even though they didn't read much. Those who were too tired to fuck her knelt by her and masturbated with pressure and conviction until they shot a nice load on her breasts, her face, or sometimes on her legs. One or two men similarly added to her grace, on her feet and ankles. Once ten guards and sailors had passed over her, she was covered with sweat and semen. Dimitri also paid her a second call. This time, he enjoyed her from behind and was rewarded for his gallantry by another wild burst of ejaculating semen, which he liberally spilled on the small vastness of her ass as he literally died out of sheer pleasure. He was her slave. Revolting was such a bliss!

Then, they freed her father. With shock and disbelief, Dimitri watched the waking dream unfold as the transfixed father walked to his naked daughter, who lay on deck with her face almost entirely covered and crusted by semen at various stages of drying. The rest of her reeking of semen with much of the matter on her tits.

The Baron raped his own daughter like a brigand! On top of her. Crudely. Brutally. Tamara was confused! Troubled! Her Father?! She was horrified, yet her body felt his heat inside, and she moved herself to "lessen the pain and strain" and yet the real reason was to steal some pleasure out of this abomination of a sin.

"AAAHHAA YEAH!! Tamara! TAMARA MY LOVELY BEAUTIFUL TAMARA I'VE ALWAYS WANTED YOU LIKE THIS! TO FUCK YOU EVER SINCE YOUR BREASTS SHOWED!" he shouted in her face, shortly before he was struck by love's delight and shivered all over, in his monstrous trance, as he spewed all his stored sperm inside her! Each burst more morally debilitating.

Tamara received the prodigious load in shock, horror and disbelief. The troubled dievushka had almost enjoyed being raped by her father. Not thinking, numbed by too many shocks, she kissed her father as if she were his wife!

In Nastya's cabin, Tatiana lived the unthinkable. The Grand Duchess was naked in the arms of two negroes.

One of the stewards was younger than herself; he looked no older than sixteen or seventeen. The other one was his father. The Congolese men spoke French like native French, with a slightly different accent. Alas, she understood all they said. And for the first time, she cursed her high education.

"À nous, mon fils. Enfin, une Blanche!" (Now, sonny, at last! A white girl!)

"Oui, père, on va bien la fourrer!" (Yes, father, we're gonna fuck her good!)

Sidorov looked at the scene, transfixed, with Olga's sobs and whimpers making a proper background from the other cabin.

Tatiana had been kindly forced to kneel on the bed. And there she was, sandwiched between the naked stewards, sitting on her heels in the full grace of her nakedness, her breasts pushed out of her torso and just as graceful as her regal face, all of her bathing in golden light under the lamp, her sea-green eyes gazing in shock and stupor at the Negro facing her, a naked Negro about her own height, the Father. While the Son ran his mud-dark hands all over her back, giving her his tropical affection from stroking her hair, her neck, and the pristine grace of her back all the way down to her lower loins where the empire of her hips and buttocks took an impressive sway of full erotism with the soles of her feet completing the picture.

The negroes were utterly fascinated by how white she was, and how beautiful! They devoured her skin with kisses, with their mouths, with their caressing hands! Tatiana couldn't repress her arousal, especially when the Father cupped her breasts. Skin on skin. Her arousal fed out of her gigantic shame. They had never seen a proper white lady in the nude. She had never seen Africans naked in person. The other men around her had most certainly never seen negroes getting sexual with a white girl. The fascination from all parties made the light brighter as the cabin was electrified from what was about to happen.

She was off-limits to the guards who had just raped her, even more so to the Congolese stewards, who violated the graceful spirit of her beauty with each touch. Tatiana's sense of self imploded and forced her to remain silent and unable to find any name to the state she was in as both negroes kept running their hands on her. She blushed and shivered when the Father cupped her breasts again. Africa was meeting Russia in a gentle shock of cultures.

The Father was fascinated by Tatiana's breasts. A white girl! A Grand Duchess! He looked down and admired the slimness of her waist, where his eyes followed her skin and plunged between her legs where a triangle of dark hair waited for his pleasure. He ran his hands around her hips, then caressed her thighs and felt her hot under his hands, while his son cupped her breasts from behind.

Sidorov was completely fascinated by this turn of event. Some of the Lithuanians expressed discontent because they hated to see negroes on a white girl, and most of all hated to see Congolese men taking their turns before them, but they feared Sidorov. The guards respected their Captain. A couple of men cursed and went to the next cabin to take a hastier turn inside Olga, but most men remained and watched the unthinkable unfolding before their disbelieving eyes. Some even began to masturbate as the Father took one of Tatiana's breasts and began eating the white chocolate of her skin as the whole tip of her breast disappeared in his wide open mouth, and for the first time in history, a Congolese man tasted the breasts of a Romanov.

Tears of shame began flowing down her eyes. Tatiana began to utter low whimpers as she felt this sweet assault on her. The Father was kneading and sucking her breasts, while the Son had his hands on her butt! She felt his African lips on the vastness of her skin as the boy worshiped her ass, covering her all-white butt cheeks with slobbering kisses and getting truly hard as he moved himself low, thanking his young flexibility as he licked and kissed those full buttocks that were so soft to his dark touch!

"Please... don't..." Tatiana whispered as the Father kissed her while caressing her breasts, then she whimpered, this time louder as the Negro returned to kissing her breasts and this time, he let a hand wander down south, and he was soon fingering the Grand Duchess, while his son kept avidly kissing her butt and letting his hands explore the fascinating grace of her legs. They were forcing pleasure inside Tatiana. She hated the fact she was probably going to surrender sexually, and this in front of Sidorov!

Slowly and gently, the Father moved Tatiana until she lay on her back and he was eating her pussy! He forced moans out of Her Imperial Highness! This while the pack raping Olga forced a sudden litany of high-pitched moans that detonated loud and clear out of her, and caused Mr. Gibbes to become hard in his own right as he listened. Whatever they were doing to Olga worked. And worked good.

Nastya's cabin was filled with Tatiana's heated moans as her pussy was being africanized by the steward's tongue! The Son was now giving her breasts the tropical heat she had always secretly craved. She had once read Candide by Voltaire and the scene where African pirates captured an Italian ship, and gang-raped the noble damsels on board, had filled her with arousal and she had urgently pleasured herself while picturing herself in the hands of a barbaric crew of African pirates! She had often wondered what it would feel like to get her tits sucked and her pussy pleasured by Negroes; a pleasure she knew was utterly forbidden and it was out of the question for her to allow this to happen.

Now she knew what it felt like. Whether she liked it or not, the Father and his thick lips and his insistent tongue were working down south and she moaned louder and louder, with the Son now frantically sucking her tits! And then the Father pushed her legs open, and as the Son moved out of the way, he covered her with his musk-strong nakedness and penetrated her! With force! Like a jungle king! As his primal grunts met her ears, as she felt his size and girth deep inside her, Tatiana exploded and surrendered, the litany of her deep-reaching moans marking the true fall of the Romanovs. Tatiana of Russia climaxed in the arms of Negroes.

"Ah oui! La Blanche! La Blanche, on la viole! Mon Dieu qu'elle est bonne à fourrer!" the Father yelled loud and clear as he went hard at it inside her.

In his own cabin, Mr. Gibbes knew enough French to understand. (Yes! White woman! White woman, we're raping her! Oh my God! She's so good to fuck!) He recognized the voice and understood that Tatiana was being raped by a black steward from the ship's crew. He got up and quietly and swiftly relieved his bladder in the chamber pot, then he got back in bed and began to masturbate while praying and asking God to forgive him.

Sidorov loved how the Father's buttocks fed powerful strokes inside Tatiana, who took the full benefit of his strong brown spirit. She kept moaning like a bitch under his grunts and shivered as a second climax hit her hard! Her breasts kept brushing his chest where she was imprisoned in his arms, and this added to her mad insanity.

After this intense bout of hard strokes, the Father licked her face and played with her hair as he died inside her! Tatiana would never forget this long tropical groan. The man uttered his joy right in her face as he gave her a prodigious load while shouting, "Yesss! The white girl! At last! At last!!!"

While the Father wiped the blood off his cock using a sheet, the Son then took his turn after his father helped him in positioning Tatiana on all fours. The wows and aahs rose out of the white men as they all saw how beautiful she truly was, especially in this position that did full justice to her curves... with a black boy kneeling behind her and holding a respectable cock, hard and ready for her! With veins full of throbbing blood.

The Congolese boy laughed as he tapped his seven-inch stick on Tatiana's pristine curves! Sidorov went nuts, and hard, really hard, as he saw this! The deep brown cock tapping the naked buttocks of Tatiana Romanova of Russia! Other men laughed. The slightly oval shape of her butt was like a gently elongated heart where both curves met at a somewhat strong angle. A strong erotic scent rose out of her slit where she had just been filled with negro sperm. All men present immortalized the butt of Tatiana Romanova in their soul.

"Now she's really deep down the gutter!" Boris observed as the boy kissed Tatiana's butt cheeks as if their taut whiteness were a holy relic.

Then the Son penetrated her! Feeling him inside her, and his hands on her, Tatiana let out a wild moan that spoke volumes about her arousal. And the boy took in every fibre of her as he gently pushed deeper inside the Grand Duchess where she took him on all fours!

"Les pirates nègres me violent!" Tatiana exclaimed in French, and both Negroes smiled as the only men who understood her. "The black pirates are raping me!"

The boy timidly took hold of her hips, right in their crease, as he began to pound her, smiling a mile wide upon finding that the penetration and her subsequent pounding proved easier than he had thought. The boy was losing his virginity to her. He pounded her square and wild! Like a savage! He remembered her vividly from when he had served her sauerkraut with Polish sausage and she barely acknowledged his existence, used as she was to being served with deference. She looked so slim and graceful! So tall and regal! He would never had imagined that only hours later, he would be inside her! And holding her naked, her buttocks between his hands.

The boy got even bigger inside her as he kept remembering her for the regal lady he had served in the ship's galley; then well dressed in her travel dress; now like Eve. Moaning like a bitch under the African empire of his hands, Tatiana was gone and lost to life as she had known it.

Sidorov took the Father's spot holding her wrists where she took most of the force on her elbows, the bed creaking as the boy reached a fast climax and let out a primal scream, "aaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!" as he filled up Tatiana with a long river of African cream. Tatiana was forced to love the fact it was a younger boy who was doing this to her, and that those hands holding her ass were a chocolate intoxicating her soul with a storm of forbidden sensations.

She didn't even realize it was Sidorov's cock she was sucking. She couldn't see much as the Red Captain was kneeling on the bed and raping her face with her on all fours as the boy stooped down upon her, nearly cut in half by the brutal pleasure as he began to kiss her everywhere and ended up worshiping her white buttocks once more. While Sidorov kept Tatiania's face pressed to his groin as he raped that face with unrestrained glee.

Tatiana thought it was the Father doing this. She closed her eyes and abandoned herself to the sheer debauchery. Anyway, her parents and her sisters would never know she was raped by negroes. Thank God and all the holy icons of Russia! She somehow found it in her mind to speak French and establish a secret link between her and the stewards, but whatever she wanted to tell them in Europe's language of diplomacy would have to wait. Her mouth was full with what she thought was a Congolese cock.

A Lithuanian tossed the boy aside and took possession of Tatiana from behind and renewed her long fiery ride. "Yeeaaaahhh, at last! At last we can fuck her!" he uttered amid his urgent strokes and moaning grunts, his words only understood by his fellow Lithuanians, who eagerly waited while masturbating and enjoying the show. Then Tatiana made a harsh muffled scream against the cock using her mouth as she felt something incredibly painful that forced her sphincter, then her rectum wide open! The Lithuanian had changed holes and he was now grunting like a loud rutting prairie pig as he swept Tatiana's chimney.

"Too bad her father isn't here to see her crowning!" Boris observed, then began to masturbate again while Olga kept making crescendos of increasingly high-pitched whimpers from where she was entertained.

Sidorov kept himself from making any sounds other than the inevitable grunting, saving the surprise for the final blast. He just kept holding Tatiana's head as he raped her face, giving her his utmost brutality. The moment was unbelievable! What a night! Tatiana's muffled groaning was a joy to listen as she was also being sodomized! He adored the feel of her tongue and palate against his inflated cock! It was about to burst inside her mouth! Amid the panting fury of his act, Sidorov had to make a decision. He did.

At the end of delightful minutes of enjoyment inside Tatiana's mouth, Captain Sidorov pulled out of her and yelled, "AAAahhhrr YYAAAAAAAAAArrrhhhNNNNNNNNNNNNNN NNNNNNNN NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNHH!!!"

Tatiana learned, with rage and fury, she had been played as Sidorov blasted a gigantic load of sperm that graced her whole face with a blanket of gooey heat! This while the Lithuanian holding her hips and sodomizing her suddenly sounded like a sick roaring bear as he exploded inside her rectum!

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! What does it feel like to be the butt of the joke?" Sidorov said, contemplating the result of his ruse that worked. He had raped her mouth without any risk of getting bitten, and now the result spoke for itself--Pools of glistening sperm all over her regal face! With her sea-blue eyes blazing with fury.

Tatiana had no more leisure to meditate this blasting matter as she felt a strong pair of hands as a man got hold of her waist along with his rowdy cock pushing its brutal way inside her. Boris was taking his round two, this time enjoying her on all fours, aroused by the steward boy's exploit and giving her a repeat session of forced sex, this time with the Caucasian cock of a lumberjack from the vast hilly forests of Ural.

Boris gained hold of her wrists, and then he pulled! Pulled her arms behind her, making her tense up and arching her back, where Oleg the brutish peasant pushed his cock inside her mouth and grabbed her hair to offer her another round of facial rape while the sturdy lumberjack in his Red Army uniform roughed Tatiana good and hard, and he lasted much longer than the first time.

As she was hopelessly pounded by both ends, Tatiana heard pitiful cries and shrieks from Olga, who was now getting sodomized by one of the mechanics. Mr. Gibbes heard it all too well. Olga's screams could probably be heard on deck and even from the nearest shore of Irtysh River. Olga was also having her face slapped by the other mechanic's erect cock; the man held her hair with one greasy hand and used his erection as a stick to humiliate her face.

"Cheap whore! Cheap whore! You deserve this!" he kept yelling at Olga, who barely registered him as she was busy getting sodomized. Deep! Hard! The mechanic sodomized her with rage and hatred; he was a staunch Bolshevik. All Olga would remember from the sailor holding her hair and slapping her with his cock would be the large Chinese tattoo on his forearm; a dark blue shark with pink blood dripping from its teeth. She barely registered the gooey debasement when he splattered a steaming load on her face. She kept shrieking in pain until the mechanic behind her tightened his grip on her hips and looked up at the cabin's ceiling as he relieved himself inside her bowels. Both sailors had their faces so dirty with coal that they looked like negroes.

Tatiana had to endure the brutish grunting from the illiterate peasant raping her face and the equally brutish pounding from Boris, who asked her, amid his grunts, whether she liked it best, between being face-fucked by Oleg, or rear-fucked by a lumberjack from Ural. Their grunts and growls filled the cabin while Sidorov watched with an absolute sense of fulfilled revenge.

"Go easier on her, boys! She's learning her lesson! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" Sidorov said as he sipped cheap vodka out of a bottle he had been sharing with a Lithuanian, who then poured the whole bottle on Tatiana's head! The stewards grinned as they watched the Grand Duchess being so highly honoured by her inner guards. Tatiana, the butt of the spit-roasting joke, was in a dark rage amid all her pain and her distressed confusion.

Boris and Oleg gave her a cataclysm of semen along with a final salvo of loud moaning grunts as they emptied their balls inside her mouth and pussy. Oleg pressed her face against his hairy lap, and raped her nostrils as well as he kept her face pressed there against the lush hair of his pubis, which he had not washed for at least a week, this while Boris laughed as he tapped his spent cock on her buttocks. The wet slapping sounds on her skin resonated throughout the cabin, its meaning enormous.

Then two sailors took their turns on Tatiana, both showing up naked with their arms adorned with tattoos. One had a black anchor on his forearm; the other had a rose heart in his strong-looking left bicep, a rose with Russian letters of dark blue that said, "Iryna Love". Ирина Любовь.

Both had big arms and prodigiously developed forearms from years of pulling cables. The one with the heart tattoo knelt on the bed behind Tatiana and, grabbing her waist, he had her wincing in pain from his monstrous grip as he forced her into rising herself to a graceful position where she stood on her knees while he sat on his heels with his prick high and pointing at her bottom, while the sailor with the anchor tattoo knelt in front of her and kissed her while holding her hands together in front of her in what looked like a grotesque praying attitude. Her wildly confused eyes were salty with tears, bathing in anger and arousal. She let the sailor kiss her! Too shocked, too exhausted to look away.

This long passionate kiss from the commoner had a powerful effect on Tatiana, who didn't resist and became all submissive. At least she wasn't in the arms of Sidorov. And yet Sidorov saw everything he wanted to know about Tatiana's slim hourglass figure as the sailor holding her waist took the base of his erection with one hand and told her to gently lower herself, also telling her she would be in control of the pace as he was a generous man. This while the kissing sailor kept her hands together in front of her, and his face close to hers, only taking a break from kissing her to enjoy the plunging view on her breasts, where her torso was slanting toward him, and then she felt the sailor behind her as he penetrated her to the hilt. She began to gently move herself along with his strong grip around her waist as he raped her with quiet grunts, letting her move herself up and down his stiff erection.

Keeping his hold around her waist, the sailor kept letting Tatiana move herself on his impaling cock, with her hands now being led by the other sailor, led down to his erection while he kissed her again and again. The sailor inside her had a breath-taking view on her spotless bottom, shaped like a slim heart. Tatiana was tall and slender. Her bottom curves kept crashing down on the kneeling sailor, who kept his now-gentle hold on her waist as her body agreed to make love with the sailors. Tatiana became intoxicated by this hard cock inside her, and perhaps even more so by the act of kissing a tattooed sailor. She felt a crazy surge of bliss right down her core, sandwiched between the naked sailors as she let her being fucked by one and kissed by the other while her hands were now massaging the latter's erection. She even kissed him back.

This close proximity with them took her back to the realm where no limits or decency existed, the same twilight realm where a Grand Duchess could get fucked by Negroes and share a kiss with a vulgar sailor wearing a black anchor on his forearm, while holding his cock in her hands! While another tattooed man was making her crash herself on his dagger again and again, and the more she sank into this liberating realm, the harder and faster she moved herself as she became an active accomplice to her own rape. She was now ravenously kissing the sailor and tasted and felt the writhing motions of his tongue. Even her sisters would never know.

Tatiana was now whimpering hard as the sailor kept his loving hold on her, and she crashed herself down on him, showing him how well her butt could move, with increasing heat, while kissing the other sailor and massaging his throbbing erection, harder and faster as her pleasure grew out of control. She remembered Sidorov was there to watch, but her body overruled any will to resist inside her. The cabin was filled with her frantic whimpering as the sailor's hard cock, with its strong girth, kept finding the mark inside her! She was on the edge of climaxing, fucked and sandwiched between the two sailors on her little sister's bed. Sidorov loved the sounds from the repeated collisions between the Grand Duchess and the tattooed sailor!

"Aaaggghh ddjjjmmmn hhhhhrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!" the sailor uttered behind her as he erupted, vanquished by Tatiana's slim hourglass figure and the mind-boggling shape of her booty.

Then the sailors turned her around and this time, it was the sailor with the anchor who had her lowering herself on him and take his erection inside her while looking away from him... and now... facing Sidorov and the handful of Lithuanians! She hated this! Sidorov was gazing at her free-moving tits while she was so close to her edge that she couldn't resist this new fuck!

The second sailor, sitting on his heels, forced Tatiana to crash and keep crashing on his stiff cock, and she moaned without restrain as he grabbed her forearms and made her crash on him even harder, asserting his full dominance as Tatiana whimpered and her soul turned to boiling water as she learned what it was to be really taken! This was the first time ever that a man had sex with her with more creativity than just pounding her while being either on top of her or behind her.

Tatiana tried to stop it from happening, but she felt weightless and the firm grip from the sailor on her forearms multiplied the strong sensations she was already getting from his cock each time he urgently forced her to crash down on it. Tatiana screamed! Her body was flooded by absolute bliss! Olga no doubt heard her scream as the sailor turned the event into a rape frenzy where he just kept flattening Tatiana's butt on and against him, her scent adding its effect, joined in this by the thrill of touching her and seeing her gorgeous backside in addition to her cock-hardening curves, her torso slanting, her wild-moving hair adding zest to the whole affair, and the plaintive sounds of her moans, etc., as she shivered and got hit by another climax! Tatiana was out of control!

"I'm raped by the ship's crew!" she ejaculated while seeing stars! No royal eagle, but only stars. The crewmen were raping royalty! She was forced to admit to herself this was unbelievably erotic. Sidorov and the Lithuanians couldn't believe she actually said this.

"Aaahhh God damned this is so good! So good to fuck Tatiana Romanova of Russia," the sailor anchoring her shouted as he passed his edge and spewed a massive load in hot raging bolts, holding her sore forearms painfully hard, the black anchor tattooed on his forearm looking alive as its owner experienced his strongest ejaculation ever! He screamed like a man possessed, "FOR THE SOVIETS! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

Tatiana kept crashing on him like a turned-bad vestal, and the sailor groaned loud as his pain got so extremely intense that it turned to pain, but Tatiana just kept going, unaware of the blissful torture she was inflicting him as he sounded like a man who got shot, his eyes half-closed and contemplating her curves, failing to fathom the full measure of her butt and the graceful slimness of her waist, which felt so divinely soft to his eyes, just like her forearms in his grip. The torture only stopped when his cock deflated, and she would have kept going and going had he not made her stop.

The overwhelming heat radiating inside her forced her to admit that this was more pleasurable than horrible; the only torture was emotional and moral, and it came from Sidorov and her shattered pride. She comforted herself by reminding herself that Nastya wasn't sharing her fate and Olga's. Sidorov and the other men were masturbating and watching. Her eyes naturally rested on both black men and their cocks, which were almost ready again. She and Olga had sacrificed their virtue to save Nastya, and this came with a world of unexpected experiences. In a sense, it was liberating. There wasn't all that much she could lose now.

"Wow! She's fucked and fucked really good!" the second mate. As soon as the sailors had left Tatiana in sweat on her sister's bed, three Lithuanians placed her on all fours and took three intense, short-lived turns inside her, their politically loaded grunts answering to her tired groans as they released days of pent-up lust from guarding her door while gazing at her out of the corner of their eyes. A long-awaited relief hit each man while Sidorov got to watch her buttocks get hammered as a consequence of Russia's turmoils.

The Second Mate then used her the same way, debasing her and causing another bout of husky moans and groans out of her. The two golden stripes down his sleeve where his hands held her hips felt like he was the higher-status one because she looked like a naked whore getting a royal thrashing on Nastya's bed as a dense pack of uniformed men and tattooed sailors watched her while masturbating. The Second Mate said she was a better fuck than Olga before slapping her butt, pulling out of her and gracing her bottom with a huge load that he spewed, some shots landing as far as the small of Tania's back as his groan echoed throughout the cabin.

Then vodka was poured on Tatiana's superb bottom and a Lithuanian washed the sperm off her skin by giving a good rubbing to these buns he was transfixed to see in the nude. And after he knelt behind her and renewed her ordeal.

In the next cabin, Olga was kept forced-moaning by tired men who now used their fingers, their tongues and their mouths to force every little shred of pleasure out of her. The worst for her was to hear everything that was happening to Tania through this bloody thin wall!

"The night is still young," observed Boris as he tried to wake up his cock, using the help from Tatiana's ever-shocked curves as she kept groaning with loud plaintive-sounding sounds that filled Sidorov with a crazy sense of satisfaction as he heard and watched as Tatiana didn't seem to realize she was moving herself against the Lithuanian so she took him deeper in a way that minimized her pain and maximized her forced pleasure; she was thus actively helping her own rape!

***

In the Skipper's cabin, none of the men cared about the dead man who lay on the floor. Rodionov, Stefan, the First Mate and three more guards were taking a break and having each another glass of fine cognac to celebrate their boat trip.

Nastya was dreaming. Ivan was there. She was way up on a tower. He was far beneath her. Too far. Out of her reach, for she was too high above him. But he was looking at her in great alarm, trying to tell her something. Then she felt heat upon herself. She looked around and saw the entire castle was burning! The tower she stood on was now in flames! "Why did you betray me?" she shouted at Ivan, but then he walked away and laughed. Then she was in the palace she had grown up in, back in St. Petersburg. Jimmy, her King Charles spaniel! She was quietly sitting on a chair and reading a novel, with Jimmy on her lap while drinking lemonade.

Rodionov was watching Nastya sleeping as he poured himself the last of his bottle of cognac from 1811. "The night is still young," he said.

"Yes, the night is still young!" Stefan remarked, looking at the German cuckoo clock. It was just half past midnight. The night was also sweet and generous. He had just given a fantastic load of hot jism to Tamara in front of her father. He was back in the dead Skipper's cabin, drawn by the fine liquor.

"Very young! Very young indeed, and beautiful too!" Yuri added, reliving the extreme pleasure he found when he went downstairs and ejaculated on Olga's breasts, which he had found white and all the paler as they were smeared with some grease and drying jism from other worshipers.

Mikhail was back from the deck and filled with guilt. He had just raped the doctor's wife in front of her cuckold husband, while calling her a dump for Bolshevik semen, and now he thought about his own young wife, whom he had left in Kiev. The other men smoked a Cuban cigar with the Kommissar, who gave them a fine round of fine-tasting vodka, from the special crates reserved for officers only. Some privileges were too good for Lithuanians and tattooed sailors.