Red Sunset --- Chapter 3: An Organized Nightmare

Sidorov recounts an experience he had during the Great War. Then he's compelled to plan something at the Countess's expense.

Ivan Sidorov's thoughts

This time, I was reprimanded by Rodionov for my absence just as I expected, but he did so one-on-one in his office so I just had to apologize and promise such mindlessness from me wouldn't happen again. But then he became friendly again and offered me a cigar along with a glass of his epic cognac dating back to Napoleon and General Kutuzov.

"I understand Lieutenant Malinovski saw you leave the retinue's house with Countess Hendrikoff and you took a long stroll. Isn't that so?"

"Yes, Komrade, very true," I answered, sipping my cognac and unable to wrap my soul around how divine it tasted.

"Where did you take her? Mind you, Komroty, I don't mean to pry into your personal life, but I must know where she went and who she saw; you see, she could have used you in order to give a message to some Czarist spy—They do have spies here in Tobolsk, and that is why we don't have the luxury of such, uh, such frolics. You took her into the woods, didn't you?"

I nodded and grinned, remembering how he casually talked and laughed about the gang-rape of two poor maidens earlier that day. I sipped some more cognac and took a puff from the cigar, a most excellent brand, as he went on...

"I can't really blame you, and I'm a bit jealous to know that this lovely person accepted you as her lover of her own free will, but how can I blame a man for having such good taste? However, and this is important, you must not forget your mission! The Countess is to be given to the Lithuanians as a decoy and consolation prize. Lieutenant Malinovski is furiously jealous! The lad's mad about her. He's checked the hour of her return like a falcon his prey. I'm afraid he'll provoke you to a duel tomorrow morning, even though I strictly forbid it, but I'll give him something to do at dawn that should distract him. You see, today we caught one of his men doing something I'd rather not discuss with a girl who's only nine years of age. The other Lithuanians are shocked and enraged. Much to their credit, they feel collective shame after learning one of their own did this. It was a cinch to recruit the volunteers for the fire-squad, and there's one man from Vilnius who's a surgeon by trade, and he'll be the one taking care of this monster to-night. Lieutenant Malinovski will be of course commanding the fire-squad, and you and General Tatischev will sit with me on the court martial."

"Oh, I see. A pedophile! Disgusting! How can such a beast take pleasure with a girl who doesn't even have her formed breasts yet, who doesn't have her month yet, when there are so many nubile girls out there! Consider it done, Komrade. I understand that none of the Lithuanians wants to be the friend of the accused?"

The Kommissar shook his head while I kindly asked for and took a look at the pictures of these two poor girls, now prostitutes for the Red Army if they survived at all. While affecting to smile and contemplate the pretty young ladies (and much to my shame, a dark part of this contemplation was genuine), I added, "Dimitri my deputy will do nicely as the friend pleading for the accused. The man can be trusted to be impartial and he's very articulate. He was a schoolmaster before the war, and I intend to recommend him for promotion to Komandir vzvoda (Platoon Leader)."

"Yes, yes, the Party needs good officers. We're all equal, but some of us must lead the others... Tomorrow, no more strolls outside, understood? If you want to have the Countess, do it in her own room, but you must know that if the sentries hear you both having sex, they'll tell it to Lieutenant Malinovski, and I want you to be friends with him. Are you any good with a sword? I'll make an exception and allow you to give him the satisfaction tomorrow if he so desires, but only to the first blood. Remember, our mission comes first, and besides, why would you fool around with other women when you have such a lovely little wife waiting for you in Petrograd?"

Again, the obvious threat on my wife. I swallowed the last of my cognac and its taste faded in my constricted gullet. I smoked my cigar and was about to take my leave, when Rodionov asked me something unexpected...

"Tell me, Sidorov, when did you rape for the first time during the war? I told you about my own feat of arms, and it would be fair that you tell me about yours, isn't it? I heard one of your men almost bragging about an Italian nurse that half your platoon enjoyed two years ago. I'd like to hear your own version of it."

What could I do? My hands were tied up and I had to be a good little soldier if I wanted to protect what I loved. I wasn't exactly proud of this, but it just happened, and to my defense, I can only say that in the immediate aftermath of a battle, a man's blood is boiling and if he gets any opportunity to force himself on a woman, he'll usually do so with urgency, as if his life and eternal salute depended on how hard and deep he rapes her. This is why any female on the losing side usually gets raped on the spot in the aftermath. I thus went into the sordid tale.

***

It was during the summer of 1916. I was Platoon Sergeant and Dimitri was the most senior Corporal. On this part of the front, our Division had pushed into a breakthrough, taking all three enemy trenches and forcing the enemy Division to a rout as we gained a lot of unexpected ground, but we pushed on and even captured some of their artillery. There was even an enemy plane, a Fokker E.III, who came and went into some strafing on us, but in his second pass, the unsuspecting fellow flew too low and I fired three shots with my 1895 Nagant revolver, and much to my astonished satisfaction, the plane directly dove and crashed. It turned out one of my shots had got him in the head. I was later awarded a decoration for this unique feat.

So we pushed really far into enemy territory, so far that my platoon stumbled into a small field hospital that was in the process of being evacuated. I was in command of the platoon after our Lieutenant had been shot and left behind badly wounded. We were still fighting for the Czar, but we cared so much about our officer that we left him to bleed out in the mud. He was an ass-hole. (Here Kommissar Rodionov laughed and lighted himself another cigar, his lips gloss with cognac.)

We shot all the men we found at the field hospital, in cold blood. Even a doctor. A handful of Austrian soldiers met their end trying to protect a group of nurses, all of whom but one were young and attractive, mostly girls in their early twenties. We all went stiff upon seeing the prize we had won. As soon as our position was secured, we bayoneted all the wounded enemy soldiers—And the nurses began to scream as they knew all too well what came next.

We grabbed the nurses and began tearing their brown uniform shirts while hands of ours brutally invaded their legs and their modesty under their thick field-brown skirts. Those long skirts were soon bunched right up to their waist as all the panicking girls were stretched on the ground and urgently gang-raped right here and there. There were about thirty-five men left in the platoon and a maybe six enemy nurses, so each got filled up by no less than five men in quick, urgent succession. Even the older, less attractive one was put to good use by my men, who were all crazy horny. What an insane rush! Insane!

The one I found myself on top of kept screaming in a language very different from the German spoken by the others. She had long dark hair and skin as white as porcelain. "Mama! Mama!" she kept screaming to the very top of her voice as I tore her uniform's brown shirt, for her bosom filled me with lust, and being the leader of the pack, I had the luxury of ripping her bra off and discovering a paradise of white flesh to suck, and I tasted her like a suckling pig, while she kept wailing and screaming "Mama! Mama! Santo cielo! Noo! Nooo Nooooooo Mama Mamaaa—Aaaaaaaaah aaaaaaah aaaaaaaaaaaaannaaoooooooo..."

As I sucked her breasts and found how tasty her deep rose nipples were, it struck me she was Italian. I know nothing of the language, but her voice sang an incredibly pleasing music as my stiff erection got painful. So while two of my men restrained her and took the opportunity to knead her tits, I stood on my knees between her legs and feverishly unbuttoned the trousers of my Czarist uniform, before sinking down again, and popping my lust forward inside her. She shrieked in pain as I rammed inside her, to the hilt! She was certainly a virgin, because her screams were deafening, and there was a sense of shock and surprise in her eyes. I'll never forget her eyes. They were aquatic green, very much like this empty glass here (Rodionov poured me another glass of cognac. He had wild excitement in his eyes and I thus learned his soft spot—The brigand loved to rape girls and loved to hear tales about it. So I went on with my grim tale.)

Yes, she had a peculiar light of sea green in her eyes, which she kept half-closed while her genteel head kept bobbing from the sharp strokes I gave her, her loose hair forming a dark blanket of moving silk about her as she screamed on, with tears in her eyes, sea green eyes loaded with despair and reflecting the faint light from the overcast sky above the horrible scene where the handful of nurses were being gang-raped by battle-crazy soldiers. "Nein! Nein!" a German-speaking girl wailed nearby as she was raped by Boris, the strongest of my men, who screamed like a dying lost soul as he emptied himself inside the blonde Austrian nurse.

The nurse squirming under me was not supposed to be Italian, but she was. She was perhaps Swiss and was an idealistic who felt sympathy for the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Maybe she had relatives in Austria? Maybe she had started the war in Hungary and remained there even when Italy actively entered the war on our side? It didn't matter. All that mattered was her pussy that I took immense pleasure in violating.

The jiggling play of my victim's breasts positively hypnotized me as I soon passed my edge and spewed a massive load inside the sobbing girl, who kept calling her Mama and Santo cielo in her native Italian, and she cried and screamed even shriller when the other men raped her in quick succession, none of them lasting long inside the deflowered nurse as they enjoyed her on the ground, in the same way I did—Crudely, with her uniform's mud-brown skirt bunched up at her waist and her legs and feet bared, since my men had gone into the trouble of removing her shoes and her long socks so we could let the pale light of her legs enhance the joy of our war prize. It was barbaric.

The rapes were soon entirely consumed under boulder-grey clouds that menaced to pour heavy rain. A Captain appeared and ordered us forward, before himself freeing an erection and taking his pleasure inside the same Italian brunette I had chosen for myself. At that point, the poor girl was silently staring the heavy sky, probably praying for rain, knowing this would perhaps quench her rapists' thirst for her. More soldiers had come along with this brigand of a noble officer. The nurses were raped all over again. We all stood and watched, smoking a cigarette while the Captain enjoyed the Italian girl in the very same position, while the fresh troops were now systematically undressing the other ones and exploring their naked charms.

The older one turned out surprisingly pretty in the nude—Except for her bad face. So the newcomers put her on all fours and raped her like that, enjoying the fun curves of her firm body without having to see her hag's face. This while the beautiful blonde one, probably the youngest one, was also being tried out in this butt-loving position. From the way she most pitifully shrieked, I understood she was being sodomized. And then it struck me that I had never been inside a girl with such golden hair, so I placed myself in the line-up of men waiting for her to be done with being anally raped.

While I waited, I had no shortage of masturbation material. The Italian nurse, after the Captain was done, was also stripped until she was Eve-nude as well. Her legs got propped up while grinning soldiers pulled her skirt away and past her lovely girly feet, a gorgeous sight that fed my lust into a new fierce erection, while the men before me each took the blonde nurse from behind, choosing the hole they liked best and quickly relieving themselves inside the shrieking girl, whose broken voice had turned husky.

The white Italian's ass was a round-shaped dream to behold when troops forced her into receiving their tributes on her knees and elbows, where her pale curves were protruding and free to touch for all.

When my turn came and I entered inside the blonde nurse, feeling her tight vaginal fibres as she kept wailing and squealing in German, I took hold of her hips and began the evil ramming fun, this while watching the raven-haired Italian being taken the same way, in what had become a massive, all-out orgy where more than fifty men were now on the poor naked nurses. The only break they got was the fact it was a hot summer day. It almost seemed that the dark boulder clouds were also watching and masturbating.

I remember the first raindrops along with the smat-smat sounds where my manhood kept punching between the girl's butt curves, in the same way our Division had punched a hole into the Austrian front-line. "N-neeiin! Neeeeiin..." the girl kept feebly wailing, her hair becoming wet and darker as the rain poured on us and I screamed my bliss as I exploded inside her! A bolt of lightning flashed the entire sky and was followed by a loud sound of thunder. In such weather, there was no more danger of enemy planes.

Under the pouring rain, a gorgeously naked nurse, Austrian with brown hair, was being held in a kneeling position where some of my own men slapped her pretty face with their cocks while they masturbated. Dimitri stood by and looked on, looking puzzled as to whether he shall partake or not. Not long after, it also rained Russian semen on that face of hers as she closed her eyes under the pouring humiliation. I also remember a pair of tits wet from that cool rain, with nipples erect under my tongue. But I don't even remember who was this girl whose breasts I sucked in this orgy that went chaotic with satisfied soldiers firing celebratory shots into the thunder storm. Fools! One of these cowboys got struck by a bolt of lightning—A tragedy that will make the newspaper in civilian life, but here on the front-line, just another casualty that would be written down as "killed in action".

Needless to say, we took the nurses along with us when we retreated and while me and the other enlisted members were digging new trenches while soaking wet under the heavy rain, the Czarist officers were under a roof and raping our lovely captives again, making sure their first true contact with our motherland's army would be a positive one.

Rodionov was enthralled by my tale. I could tell I had gained his respect. He stood up from his desk and warmly shook my hand.

"I'll make sure the cook serves you his best borscht and beef Stroganoff; you must be starving. Here's a bottle of cognac. Take it as a thank-you gift for this magnificent tale. You're a real Bolshevik! I want you to come back in this office tomorrow night and tell me another such tale. I trust you'll have one, and I'll tell you one of my own. I have many such tales. The Revolution has been good to us, Komrade!"

On this I took my leave, carrying a bottle of this liquid that was at least worth its weight in gold. A gift from the Devil to the branded scoundrel I was.

Before I had my supper brought in my private quarters on the second floor of the Governor's house, I sent for Lieutenant Malinovski. He showed up while I finished a most excellent borscht. He declined the glass of cognac I offered him and refused to be seated. While I began eating my beef Stroganoff, the passionate young officer remained standing with his hand on the handle of his sabre.

"A long-bladed sabre is a poor choice of weapon in close quarters, young man," I said, pausing in my meal and quietly sipping some of the marvelous cognac. "You're really missing something, Lieutenant; this cognac is 107 years old, dating back from 1811. Like I said, this sharp sabre of yours is no good in such close quarters and this is much better!"

I had pulled out my Nagant revolver in the blink of an eye, but I did not point it at my young guest. I had still made my point without saying anything more—I would have fired a bullet right through him before he would have drawn his sabre.

"I'll be delighted to take a fencing lesson from you if you're still up to it after your fire-squad duty. I'll be seating at the court martial tomorrow at dawn and the sentence will be carried out swiftly. But I didn't send for you to discuss tomorrow morning. My business with you is for to-night."

"To-tonight?! But dueling is strictly forbidden—I don't see how..."

"It's not about dueling and it's not about that steel blade you seem to be so proud of. It's about that sword you have between your legs. I want you to put it to good use tonight."

"What?! I don't see—"

I grinned, quite amused at his surprised expression. His pale blue eyes made him look all the more innocent along with his fair hair as he finally became more polite and removed his peak cap and took the seat opposite mine while I took a bite of Stroganoff, then took my gift bottle of antique cognac and poured a glass for my young guest. He reluctantly thanked me before making a quick toast and forced himself to bid me welcome in my new assignment. Then he took a sip and sincerely thanked me as the wonderful liquor worked its magic and there was much surprise in his ice-blue eyes that took a definite tint of sea green at the warm candlelight. It reminded me of the Italian nurse; perhaps she had a brother who looked remarkably like this. I took another bite of this fine beef Stroganoff out of silverware that belonged to the former owner of this mansion, on whose second floor I had my small, yet stately quarters. I kept looking at his surprised features, grinning as he took a smaller sip and slowly paid his respects to this aged cognac des Capucins. I spoke.

"I read somewhere that 1811 was a truly exceptional vintage year in all western Europe. This cognac came into Russia with the immense army of Napoleon, in the summer of 1812. It was a massive army—Nearly 600,000 French and other soldiers who proudly and boldly invaded our motherland, singing French revolutionary songs with their hearts filled with vain smugness. They were so cocksure of their victory! Do you know how many of them made it out of Russia when their retreat became a rout?"

"I—I can't say I do. But I've read War and Peace like any self-respecting Russian. I'd say a third managed to survive," Malinovski said while contemplating the rich gold of his liquor through the small glass of crystal while I took another bite of this incredibly tasty Stroganoff.

"One fifth. Not even one fifth of those rascals made it out of our mother Russia. Barely one hundred thousand, out of nearly 600,000 that made the invading force. General Kutuzov had kept retreating while burning everything, leaving nothing for the invaders to eat. The French found Moscow nearly empty of people, with very little in the way of supplies. Not much merriment for them at Christmas! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! No food, no wine, no women either. Then the winter came with that bitter cold we all know here in Russia—The cold that makes the trees complain with cracking and snapping noises in the still of the night. The French were shocked, positively shocked when they felt this cold bite their cheeks and make their face stiff. What little wine they had would freeze. And then came the time for General Kutuzov to go into offense as the freezing wind turned.

"Faced with low supplies and harassed by a suddenly aggressive enemy, the French left Moscow and retreated back toward Poland. Most of them never made it. They died of cold, starvation and illness, while a minority did meet their demise at the points of our bayonets. And that's how you defeat a much larger force—You starve the hydra, and you take all the advantages the country will give you. No hydra has enough heads to withstand our winter. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Napoleon never recovered from this disaster. And no one ever dared invade our motherland ever since."

I slowly finished my excellent dish while my subordinate slowly finished his cognac. All went silent in this small but well-furnished room where I spotted a bed that looked like the most comfortable one I would ever sleep in. A pity this assignment was to be so short. Then I got to the matter at hand.

"Now, for tonight. I know that the Kommissar will give you the young Countess Hendrikoff as a prize for you and your men during the boat trip, but—No, stay quiet and listen. Here, have some more cognac. Haven't you thought about having her all to yourself? You seem to be really fond of her."

"I, yes, but—"

"You may speak freely, Lieutenant. Whatever we say here will stay within this room."

"It's just that Sergeant Kürschner and myself, we're foreigners to our platoon of Lithuanians, and there's no way, just absolutely no way we could get at the Countess and use her to our content, between Kürschner and myself—"

"—between Kürschner and I. Say 'between Kürschner and I', Lieutenant. Don't be modest, but pray continue," I cut in while pouring myself some more cognac.

"Like I said, me and Kürschner, I mean Kürschner and I, we're foreigners to the Lithuanians we're commanding. They have a Sergeant that is junior to Kürschner, and yet this old bastard is the one actually running the platoon, because he's Lithuanian and they'll listen to him first. However, he drinks a lot and goes to bed early, but he's an early riser and takes pride in being up before everybody else."

"I see, so you do want to enjoy the young Countess between you and Kürschner, but there's always guards at her door, Lithuanian guards, so there's no way you could pull the deed off without the entire platoon learning about it. That is so, isn't it?"

"Yes, precisely so. We would then lose any grip on the men, and they would go into full mutiny while on board and—"

"—And rape the grand duchesses in their cabin on board!"

"Precisely so. I would then be blamed for this and get demoted to Private or perhaps Corporal, if I'm lucky. I could even be sent all the way east in far Siberia for years in forced labour, or even worse—A firing squad."

"I see your problem, and it is within my power to help you and give you what you want. To-night, you and Kürschner, you will be able to go into the Countess's sleeping quarters and rape her, and rape her old maid too if you so desire, while none of the Lithuanians will be the wiser. I trust that between the two of you, you will be able to keep one woman and her maid quiet without hurting any of them. Now, tell me, how many sentries will be at her door?"

"Two. They're always two. Sergeant Butkus—that's the old rascal de facto in command of the Lithuanians—Sergeant Butkus always assigns the sentries himself. He knows about me and my intentions toward the Countess, for he knows I'm from the same countryside as her—And he wants to be the first man to rape her on board of the steamship. I trust that the men will restrain me and Kürschner and let us have her only by the time the old rascal and all the guards will be done with her, so we'll be left with remains of a woman who'll be lying down on the deck like a heap more dead than alive."

"He would dare break the unwritten law?! What a brigand! I despise a soldier who would even break the antique law that says a captive woman must be gang-raped properly in descending order of rank. Look, I'll be there on that deck and I'll see to it that you and Kürschner will be the two first men inside Hendrikoff."

"Countess Hendrikoff, Komrade. Her title means the world to us. I intend to keep calling her 'my beautiful Countess' the whole time I'll be raping her," said the young officer as he finished his second glass of cognac and I poured him a third one. Drinking made him friendlier and more talkative. He was warming up to me and I grinned. I thanked myself for being an avid reader of good novels, which allowed me to mesmerize him some more with my eloquence. Now I had him and was well on my way to gain full control over the entire platoon of Lithuanians. It would be ideal that this brute of Sergeant Botkus was met with an accident, whatever his name was.

"And those two Lithuanians who'll be on guard at her door tonight at ten, what kind of girls do they like? Knowing this would greatly help me."

"Ah, I see, you want to lure them away with girls. Not bad an idea if you give them some girl only us officers have access to."

"Yes, it is strange to see how a Marxist army fighting for the equality of all proletarians somehow retains the old system of military castes, with special privileges for officers only, but yes, that's the drift of my plan—I will send those guards away with this plum they'll keep the secret of and I will be at her door myself, so you may come right in and do what you had always wanted to do with Countess Olga Hendrikoff. I won't let anyone near that door. My officer's word!"

"I—I don't know how I'll ever repay you!" the young officer ejaculated, all smiles, his lips wet with 1811 cognac at the candlelight."

"So, do you know what their tastes in girls are? If you don't, then this will be a lesson—A good, efficient officer knows his men through and through."

"Jonas and Lukas—Wait... Oh yes! Sergeant Kürschner overheard Jonas saying he loves girls from the Far East, you know, Chinese girls. Kürschner speaks very good Lithuanian while mine is basic at best."

"Good. Kommissar Rodionov told me about a Yan or Jan who's such a girl. I take it she must be pretty and for officers only?"

"Yes, yes, rightly so. I had Jan the other night and she's a very good fuck, beautiful with a pale bronze face and nipples of an exotic mud brown, and very lithe and small too. Jan says she's nineteen, but you'd hardly believe it since she's so lithe, but she's been around many places since she was captured and sold and taken all the way from Mongolia. I take it she's actually a couple years older than she says. She's from northern China. And there's another Chinese one here, Fade. Fade is like a sister to Jan."

"Perfect!" I said while ringing a loud bell. A servant come not long after and I sent for Jan and Fade, hoping their services had not been retained by some other officer for this night. I looked at my watch. It was already half past nine. "We don't have much time!"

Soon, two fine-looking Chinese girls, dressed as Russian maids in a black dress under a white apron, stood before me and the Lieutenant, their feet encased in their nice little maid's shoes. My commands were simple. There was twenty rubles for each of them if they remained here from now on until tomorrow morning. I was to go away now, but they were to stay in the room the entire time. There would be twenty lashes of knout for each of them if only one disobeyed!

The Chinese maids bowed in obedience, and as a bonus I offered them each a small glass of cognac. They politely said they never drank alcohol, they only drank tea or chai, but if I wanted I could pour some liquor on their breasts and lick it off. Fade was already starting to undo her dress-top; she was clearly used to do this. I told her this wasn't necessary and insisted on them drinking a half-glass of cognac each. I then took my leave and put my peak cap back on, while my guest did likewise. I repeated my command as I walked out of the door.

Jan then said she was to spend the night with the Kommissar. I retorted by telling her she must not worry about this, as I would send word to the Kommissar that Jan and Fade were both unwell to-night. All would be well. "And remember, twenty rubles for each if you do as you're told, or else—Twenty lashes of knout!

Once outside my room, I called for Dimitri and had him inform the Kommissar in a note about the eastern maids being unwell. In the secret note, it also said it was part of my plan to gain full control over the Lithuanian guards. I signed the all-important note myself and entrusted it to Dimitri without a shred of hesitation. The note was as good as given.

With this obstacle out of the way, I went outside in the cool night along with my new friend, who said something about twenty lashes of knout being excessively cruel to such fine girls, but I re-assured him by saying it was but a dissuasive threat and I had no intention of inflicting them the bite of a rawhide thong attached to a pine-wood handle. Only a barbarian would do such a thing. I sent the Lieutenant to go and find Sergeant Kürschner and gave him my last instructions.

"You and Kürschner, stay out of sight in the main floor's drawing room and observe the stairs. You'll see the sentries leave. Make sure they don't see you, lest they become suspicious. I'll then call for you and you'll then have the Countess for the entire night, all to yourself," I said, having a difficult time to keep my composure and speak in a neutral tone while I felt greatly chagrined to do this to such a wonderful lady I would have married on the spot had I been free. What horrible sacrifices did I have to make in this assignment! I didn't care all that much about serving well and being recommended for promotion; I only wanted to keep my wife out of harm's way.

I repeated my instructions, then let the Lieutenant hasten his way to Kürschner's room in the basement of the retinue's house. Looking at my watch, I learned it was almost five before ten as I went upstairs to the first floor where Countess Hendrikoff had her quarters. My heart was very heavy with sorrow. I walked the hallway and a saw the pair of tall sentries at the Countess's door.

One of them, who presented himself as Jonas, smiled upon seeing me. He was one of the guards in the drawing room when I mortified the old General Tatischev. He immediately told his team-mate about the whole story.

"Jonas, I have a very difficult assignment for you. In my room there are two Chinese maids, Jan and Fade. You and your friend here, you must go there and close the door behind you. You will have all freedom to do whatever you please with these two maids for the whole night through—I will stand watch here in your stead. You must not worry."

Jonas hesitated. He began speaking with the other one in his tongue, in a very low voice. I could see the lust in his eyes, and I knew I almost had them.

"You will also find a half-drunk bottle of cognac. This is cognac like you never drank in your life—vintage of 1811. Feel free to use it. The maids like liquor poured on them, so use it liberally! And this is a note signed from me with my own secret word. The sentries over there will let you in!" I said, handing a hastily written note to Jonas.

The grinning sentries were on their way. Sure enough, Lieutenant Malinovski and Sergeant Kürschner were right there soon after, with the front of their trousers distended by a strong erection. They both wore the same expression as a boy about to unwrap a Christmas present he had been waiting for for six months and more.

"Wouldn't you like to come in and—and partake, Sir?" the young officer wondered.

"No, to-night's your night. I'll listen and it will be enough for me," I whispered, lest the Countess be awake and overhear my voice. I meant to retain her heart for two more days, knowing her love for me would be lost when she'd see me standing by on the deck and doing nothing when the Lithuanians would obliterate her pride, honour and dignity. This was evil beyond words—Violence to art! A crime worse than violence against persons in Dante's hell, which I had once read in Turkish translation.

Soon after they walked in the door, I heard a shrill female scream. Olga! It broke my heart!

"Noo! Petia, no! Oleg, stop this!" I heard, listening with my ear flat at the door.

"Qu'est-ce que vous faites ici? Allez, ouste!" I heard said in a foreign language. Claire, the maid... French.

"Shut up, old dog!" Kürschner said. "And speak Russian!"

"Owww!"

"Claire! Don't hurt her, noo! You monsters—mmmhhffff..."

"Yes, Petia, kiss her all you want! Let me kiss her too! So many times she passed by us in her two-horse open-top victoria, without looking at us! Show her! Show her we exist! And you, old dog, I'll make sure you stay seated here and enjoy the show—Tonight the Countess becomes ours! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

"Salauds! Fumiers! Ne touchez pas à madame la comtesse—Aaaahwww..."

"Shut up, bitch! That's it, Petia, take a long wet kiss! Make her pay for all these years we dreamed about her without hope—Tonight's our night, wou wou wouh wouh wouhh!"

"Aaaaahh naaaaommfffhhh..."

"Keep the noise down, Oleg. Come here and press your hand on her mouth while I strip her out of her nightgown. And if the old maid screams, kill her!"

"No need to hurt her, Petia. I'll find something to silence her—Oh, this..."

"Now, my beautiful Countess, don't make noise. Quiet, I don't want to hurt your maid, but if you keep screaming—"

"I hate you, brigand! I've always known you're a no-good bandit! An officer, you! I know an officer who's a real man and a gentleman! I bet you won't be even able to get it up—No! Don't hurt Claire, she's like a mother to me—"

"Oh, my lovely little Countess, I wouldn't say that! Here, look at what I have for you. Standing at attention!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

"Quiet I say! Now get down on your knees and kiss it! You heard me! On your knees and kiss my cock!—Aaahh, yes! Kiss it again!—Again... Now kiss the Sergeant's too. You remember my friend Oleg, don't you? See how strong and hard he is—For you! Now kiss it... Kiss it and now take it in your mouth. Yes, polish it with your noble slobber—And if you bite, your maid gets it!"

Through the door, I could even hear the quiet slurping sounds she made as she gave fellatio. Looking left and right and making sure no one was near, and laughing at my own paranoia, I put one knee down and looked through the key hole—There she was, Countess Hendrikoff, still wearing her nightgown, down on her knees and pleasuring the tall, well-built Sergeant while he caressed her long loose brown hair while she performed a full-blown fellatio, pleasuring him and causing him to fill the room with primal grunts. The Lieutenant knelt behind her and ran his hands all over her backside, feeling her buttocks where she nearly sat on her heels—and I saw she was barefoot, which caused quite a spell of arousal in myself while the Lieutenant now ran his hands higher and cupped her breasts from behind, through her white gown while she kept on with pleasuring the Sergeant. Oleg grunted on, clearly loving this.

"Yes, yes, Olga! I may call you Olga now that you're sucking my cock. Keep going, girl! Good girl, yeah! I've always wanted to give you my sperm to drink!"

"Let them kill me, Madame! Bite this dog! Just bite—Owww!"

Petia had risen from his knees and punched the maid. He found a handkerchief and then tightly bound it where it seemed he had silenced her, but this didn't work very well. This while Oleg kept grunting louder and louder as the Countess kept pleasuring him, holding his base in her lovely little hand, which I fondly remembered kissing when we first met. Petia tore the maid's gown and bared a surprisingly perky pair of breasts with brown nipples.

"Countess, if you do anything foolish I'll cut off one of Claire's nipples—So, be a good girl!"

I saw the Countess nod with her mouth full of Oleg's meat while he kept stroking her hair—And Oleg went into some shamanic trance, looking like some wooden nutcracker in khaki uniform that had come to life and writhed in a chaotic way while trying to stand straight; all this happened at once as Kürschner exploded inside the Countess's mouth and he pressed her face against his groin as he shot his load deep inside her mouth, forcing the noble lady to swallow.

"You like my sludge, don't you? Madame la Comtesse?" Oleg said, calling her by her title in clumsy French.

"Let me suck her tits!" Petia said. Then she yelped and I heard the sharp sound of tearing fabric. I had risen from my uncomfortable position, but then I sank down on my knee again and peered into the key hole anew. I saw her uncovered breasts where she knelt, now facing the young officer as he pressed his hands on those gorgeous tits and looked at her while she looked down and started to weep.

"I hate you!" She said in a low voice. "You have my body because you're brigands, but you will never have my heart! And you'll always be what you are—A filthy peasant! Even if you become a General, you will still be a filthy peasant! Because this is what you've always been and will always be, a filthy peasant."

While she spoke, Petia ignored her and sucked her tits with a passion that spoke loudly about the pent-up lust he had for her. Oleg was now sucking the maid's breasts, and she was whimpering, almost sounding as if she was enjoying it. I hated seeing the Countess treated so vulgarly, but I was becoming horny from watching and listening. Petia had one of her breasts entirely inside his mouth. His eyes were closed. He had the other one in his hand and was gently compressing it while tasting her nipple with obvious enjoyment.

"You're nothing to me, Petia. Nothing!" the sobbing Countess kept harping on, met with her rapist's indifference as he kept honouring her breasts, fully and thoroughly. Much to his credit, I must say he licked and kissed them all, even taking care of that often-forgotten spot under them, and he forced her to emit small moaning sounds as he licked that curve where her breasts naturally rested as she stood on her knees and endured the loving onslaught, held by her fear for Claire.

"Oh, my sweet beautiful Countess! I've always dreamed of this moment! Now, remove your gown and show me your butt!"

"Don't listen, Madame! He's nothing!" Claire said through the handkerchief supposed to keep her silent.

"Shut up, bitch and enjoy your old tits being sucked in silence!" Oleg said with his bass voice—A voice that had great effect on the old maid now as the Sergeant kept on his act of sucking her brown nipples, with what looked like great enjoyment. He even tore more of her gown and nearly bared her entire legs, which he began to kiss. The old maid begged him to stop this while moaning with little reluctance. This while Countess Hendrikoff removed her gown past the top of her head, her lovely arms up above as she revealed the grace of her naked figure—hips of a goddess that seemed to absorb the tawny light from a nearby oil lamp, complete with that wonderful bush of dark hair where-from she would one day become a mother. Olga Hendrikoff had the most beautiful cunt I had ever seen, barring perhaps only my own wife. Sumeyye's Turkish carpet was one solid triangle that made her pale olive hips look radiantly white in contrast, and she tasted even better. Countess Hendrikoff had a thinner triangle that indeed looked like a reverse pine-tree of warm shadow, not entirely black when one looked close and long enough.

"I, I hate and despise you."

Ignoring her predictable words, Petia stooped down and began to kiss the south of her hips while tenderly holding her in his arms. There he must be showing more affection than her husband ever did, from what I had heard her say about the coward who fled, but her face and the dark fires in her eyes showed nothing but hatred and contempt as she felt his tongue darting inside her entrance and most likely felt his nose amid her patch of hair. Petia now knew how soft her velvet was. He then had her turn around, this while the Sergeant was now kissing the old maid's sensual legs. I went all the way stiff upon seeing the buttocks of Countess Hendrikoff, this time under the warm lamplight as she reluctantly positioned herself on all fours, where Petia took hold of her derrière and began to fondly kiss that soft firmness I was familiar with from last afternoon. I hated to see this, and yet I kept peering through the key hole, in a state of complete arousal.

Petia must be in that hot pain that was familiar to all men who experienced being truly hard. He gave the Countess the command of resting her elbows on that same cushion chair she had sat on while drinking English tea with me twelve hours prior. The sobbing Milady obeyed, my eyes never getting tired of seeing her nakedness, from her legs and feet all the way to her noble hair of silky brown playing with the warm light as she positioned herself, sobbing and repeating how she hated and despised him while Petia kept his hands on her bottom, where her butt-crack confirmed her as being simply human, belying the divine lines of her legs and figure.

Then the actual rape began, much quieter than I had thought. Petia penetrated her, his trousers thrown down, and the Lieutenant began pounding her while she kept sobbing, resting her arms on the chair's leather seat while the uniformed scoundrel took his delight in quickly repeated jabs, now growing more and more vocal, his hands getting sweatier and more feverish where he now held the crease of her all-white hips and forced the curves of her butt into collisions she never wanted from him, and her sobbing body had to move along with the buffeting strokes from the young brigand, whose handsome face looked distorted with joy and that painful pleasure I knew so bitterly well.

"Aaa aaaa ahh aaaah my beautiful Countess! At last! At last! I have you now! Aah aaah aaaah aaaaaa ohh this is so good!"

"You—you only have, have my body—Filthy peasant!"

"AAA AAAA AAAAAAA AAAA AAAA AAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNHHYYAHHH AAAAAAaaaaaaaaaa God!"

From this long plaintive-sounding groan he made while enjoying his apocalypse, I could tell he gave her an epic load of jism.

Then came Oleg! The Sergeant rushed upon the naked Countess and began kneading and pressing the light-rich whiteness of her body, running his hands all over her legs, exploring them avidly until he was caressing her butt, grunting from the burning intensity. He covered these curves with slobbering kisses, kept his hands on them as if her skin contained the answer to all he ever wanted to know. As if he'd become filthy rich by doing this as best as he could. The Countess was sobbing and whimpering under the heated attention. "No... No, I—I hate you... I hate, you."

Her words were bereft of force, bereft of hope. She knew she was to be raped for the whole night by those men she hated and despised. This was a nightmare for her. And yet I knew that an even worse nightmare awaited her in the form of forty-plus Lithuanians.

My knee really hurt, so I switched to the other knee and kept peering through the hole.

Oleg entered inside the Countess with force and weight. He made a low-pitched grunt, followed by even lower ones as he began to repeatedly ram her with long strokes, each one stronger and heavier than the one before. Keeping her arms on the leather chair, her curvy butt inside Oleg's ever-thrusting lap, she also had to endure his hands on her breasts as he pressed himself upon her and seemed to cover her like a breeding dog as he kept feeding her with hard strokes that were now shorter and faster. His low grunts filled the room—The door I listened at seemed to tremble with each one of his sounds as he kept forcing whimpers out of her.

"Aaahhh! At last! At last! Aaahh, that's a good fuck! Olga, all the men in our village want to to this with you, you know? Aaahh! Ah, yes! Even better than I thought—AAAAAAA AAAAA AAAAAAAAA This is it! This is it! YEs! Yes yes yes yes yes! aaahhrrr yes! HHHNNRRDDJJGGH UUUGHH UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHH!"

Again, she took another epic load of baby pudding as he remained pressed against her, imposing the spasmodic joy of his body upon hers, his back scary-hairy with hair darker than his blond hair as he clung to her tits, thus covering her with his heat as he enjoyed the ejaculation to its last tiny drop.

"And this is only the beginning, my sweet Countess! Now, if you love your maid, you'll kneel down before me while I take off my uniform and show you a body that many girls in our village have enjoyed to see! And—"

"—Petia, I hate you! I'd rather take an entire platoon of Lithuanians inside me rather than you alone! I'd rather—"

"—Oh, but that can be arranged. Don't worry, Milady, don't worry. I take note of your wishes. I like you! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! All right, now girl, at my feet! At once!"

And the scoundrel whistled her like a dog!

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, worm!" Claire said with her strong French accent while I was now just listening, my ear hurting against that hard door. There was a mix of blissful fatigue and hatred in her voice. Whatever Kürschner had done with her, the maid certainly had been forced to enjoy to some unspeakable degree—She must have gone a long time without the loving attention from such a young man. Kürschner was about twenty-five, very close in age to the Countess, and upon thinking of it, Petia must be about the same age since both men had clearly gone to school together, although Petia still looked like a lad. He must have been quite popular with the girls in his village, indeed.

"Now, sweet Countess of my dreams, kiss my torso! See how I look like a classic statue! I've spent long years climbing trees and lifting rocks nearly every day, for you!—To make myself strong and pleasing to look at. For you! So kiss these muscles, kiss them, because they were built for you! All those strenuous efforts while thinking of you! You see how Oleg is taller and larger than myself. True he has thicker bones—Oh, yes, sweet Countess! I love how you kiss my navel. If you're kind to us, then we will make love to you. I'm sure that this ass of a husband you have will never touch you the way we do!"

The young devil had a point. At this point, I almost spoke to tell the Countess she better enjoy this—Before her true nightmare begins. I felt great shame in how I took enjoyment in knowing something she didn't. I remembered the two rapes I had just witnessed and what struck me the most was how gracefully she endured the ordeal. She was so noble by birth that her body refused to become vulgar. She went through the rapes without a shred of vulgarity marring her graceful figure or her noble features. I felt shamefully curious to see whether this would hold true when she'd be in the hands of those lewd Lithuanians, who would be a lot worse. Petia and Oleg had raped her with the sordid brand of selfish lust that had been spawned and had grown inside them for many years. The mob of guards would gang-rape her like a bunch of drunk peasants; they were going to be very brutal indeed, especially after seeing her constantly out of their reach for days.

This lasted the whole night. I only left the door on two occasions, to go relieve my full bladder using the English-style toilets—There was one for each floor. The house slept while the Countess lived what felt to her like her worst night. I knew worse was in store for her. Poor Countess! Sacrificed to the wolves. With a touch of glamour to-night. None whatsoever when she'll be fuck-meat for the Lithuanians. Her bare feet would be smeared with grease from the boat as those brigands were going to scream their high bliss and pollute her for the rest of her life.

Her whimpers seldom abated in her room. I took an evil pleasure in listening on through that door, and watching until my knee was really hurting on the lacquered wood. Again and again, they mounted her, trying her out in different positions. At one point, Petia lay down on his side, now entirely naked, and the Countess lay on her back with her butt against his lap, her gorgeous legs folded over him where her heels would softly strike him as he ravished her in that wonderful position where he had a side view on her ever-moving breasts—The breasts of a Countess being raped by brigands after a brutal undressing! I was so stiff and horny! I almost wished it were Sumeyye who was being similarly abused in front of me. I felt the insane urge to open the door and partake!

Petia finished his exploit by yelling a long-winded complaint, as if her vagina were biting him as he heated her with another load. Then Oleg threw her on the bed, where he was soon raping her in a full-on frontal assault where he grabbed her hips and lifted her buttocks off the bed while standing tall on his knees, forcing her bobbing head and her breasts into a demented dance as he gave her all he had! The baroque-style bed was wildly creaking. When his arms got tired, he laid himself on top of her and gave her the command to wrap her legs around him and say how much she loved him!

The Countess obeyed as far as wrapping her legs was concerned. She even crossed her ankles atop him and gave me the loveliest show of girly feet a woman can ever give, but she said she hated him—Then it happened! The Countess detonated into a wild series of high moans. I understood. She was climaxing under hot duress. And to add insult to her injury, Oleg yelled his bliss in her face as he dumped a massive load inside her.

"Here, Olga! Have my baby!" On this, Oleg kissed her. A lingering kiss that further mortified the Countess.

Each time they were spent, the Countess had to lick and suck both men until they were hard again. She proved good at it. Eventually, the maid herself ended up naked and raped by the indefatigable Sergeant, who forced the fifty-something woman into spasms of moaning head-bobbing action while her small breasts looked even younger when they jiggled so wildly, along with those stiff strokes she kept taking, and Oleg also lifted her buttocks off the bed, raping her the very same way he had taken the Countess. When it was over, Oleg also kissed her and told her she was a very attractive woman, that he had always fantasized on women with silver hair and lovely perky breasts and also a juicy butt; that French women were the most rape-able women in the world.

"I hate you!" the Countess kept saying, always in tears.

I have no idea how long this had been going. Hours. I took my watch out of my pocket and wasn't surprised in any way when I saw the hands showing quarter past three. Dimitri was to wake me up at five for the court martial. I watched on, at least congratulating myself for refraining to go in and partake. I was now planning to rape one of the grand duchesses, and from now on, I was going to abstain from even masturbating so I would explode powerfully inside Olga or Tatiana, whom I was going to rape along with the rest of the inner guard. This had been Rodionov's plan all along. He most likely intended to keep the youngster for himself in his own cabin. Poor Nastya! To be deflowered by such a foul man!

Petia was presently pounding the Countess from behind while she was again on her knees with her elbows on the leather cushion chair. There was much less force and enthusiasm in his strokes—The orgy was waning and before long, both rapists would take their leave and thank the Countess for giving herself so liberally. At any rate, I did not want them to find me beyond the door, much less her to see me and understand I was behind all this.

Resisting the urge to keep watching, I retreated. As I walked the silent hallway toward the stairs, I heard Petia's plaintive groan as he emptied himself inside the Countess. Not long after, a series of low-pitched groans informed me that Oleg was now inside her.

I went downstairs and made sure to wait until I was sure no more guards were showing up. Not a sound from the prolonged rape upstairs was heard from the drawing room, where one Lithuanian was stoically keeping watch. He saluted me with a grin and I of course returned the salute, smugly enjoying a rank and status I did not deserve. I then left the house. Petia and Oleg would certainly leave by a back door they knew. I wasn't worried in the least about them getting caught. The sentry in the drawing room said he was very surprised to see someone at this hour and told me the sentries upstairs usually left around two o'clock to turn in, this against orders. I had him swear not to say anything about having seen me. I was pleased to know that those sentries' absence upstairs would be shrugged off in the morning as a slip in discipline that was tolerated among Lithuanians.

My eyelids heavy with sleep, I returned to my room in the Governor's mansion, on the second floor, and found it full with a stench that had me worried that one of the ruffians had taken a shit in my pot chamber, which indeed proved to be filled to capacity with that matter we're all familiar with. The cognac bottle was empty. What a waste! Those illiterate peasants couldn't appreciate such art; I could picture those unshaven, unwashed ignoramuses drinking it out of the bottle. Barbarians!

I opened the window and threw out the contents of the filthy chamber pot. Only then did I notice the Chinese maids! I had completely forgotten them. They both lay on my bed, their small naked bodies unable to take much space in it. They both lay in tears, holding one another in what looked like a hopeless attempt to return to their mother's womb and start their life all over again, new and clean with the hopes to be more fortunate this time around. What were their names? I lighted an oil lamp and saw how pretty they were.

I gently touched one of the girls, noticing the ruins of their torn black-and-white maid's outfits that lay pell-mell on the floor. The ruffians must have had the time of their life when they stripped them naked—Their bodies were very pleasing to look at, with almond-white skin offering subtle notes of bronze that seemed to disappear when looking at their skin with focus, and then came back when you weren't paying attention. Their brown nipples and areolas screamed how pale they were, their ethnicity shown by some peculiarities in their features.

The girl I had just touched recoiled and looked at me with terror in her eyes of shadowy brightness. The lamp did bright justice to her dainty face, where I saw some lingering flakes of dry semen. What a waste! The other girl stirred and also saw me and both held each other, watching my every move with great fear and apprehension. I loved seeing them in the nude, and hated how vilely they had clearly been misused. I remembered their names and spoke...

"Yan, Fade, take fifty rubles and share it between you. You endured too much to-night and I'm very sorry for this. I'm afraid your dresses are of no more use. You can have and keep my blankets. Please, take the money, and I'm... very sorry."

I felt especially sorry upon seeing the burn on Fade's arm. They had done this with a cigarette; the animals! Brutality without a shred of art! I hated this. Each time I made love or raped a girl, I always put art in it. The Countess was right—Life without arts and dreaming is the life of a calf. Without nobility to lead them and inspire them, men become a pack of dogs. Wild brutal dogs that won't be missed once dead. I was indeed a Czarist in heart.

Jan and Fade were soon gone with my blankets and my fifty rubles. When they walked out the door wrapped in the blankets, they were helping each other to walk. I saw their painful gait and understood what it meant. Both girls had been cruelly sodomized by those dogs posing as men.

I did not care to look into the drawers and sideboards for extra blanket. I fell asleep while still inside my uniform, leaving the window slightly open to somehow improve the foul smell. The room was stately, but it stank.