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Mongolian Bandits Attack Train 2

9271 words | 2 |4.33

Alexandra surrenders to her rapists in the style of a true princess. Stanley witnesses the rape of all white female passengers including his sisters.

One hour earlier…

Amid the pandemonium where white men got beaten down and white women got their garments torn off and their luminous bosoms revealed in a scandalous display of barbaric savagery, Alexandra remained stoic as her three guards held her on all sides at once, drowning her in their strong musk, and ran their fascinated hands all over her Imperially slender person. Mongolian musk was novel to her delicate nostrils.

Chuluuna, the bandit recruit who cupped Alexandra’s bottom from behind had a massive erection, fed from feeling her full cushions of flesh, and he was only caressing her through her dress. She was beautiful beyond his understanding, like a preternatural being. Could she be a vampiress who would suck his blood and kill him along with every single one of his mates, one by one? Whatever or whoever she was, he was hypnotized and subjugated.

He loved touching her through her clothes. He’d have her clothed rather than any other woman in the nude. He couldn’t fathom what it was going to be like when this pure-white fairy would be naked under him. He felt unclean and far beneath her, but this realization made his erection even harder.

This was his very first raid, and he had only watched when some others were raping the Chinese girls; he had been told that the Captain was planning to also rape the white women, so he had been saving his spunk for them, like most men in the band. When the signal came, he couldn’t believe he was about to have one of these fair-skinned beings whom he had always viewed with mythical wonder.

Chuluuna’s erection was raging and painful as he kept caressing Alexandra’s bottom, trying to fathom what she will be like naked. Removing her hat and undoing the ribbons to let her long raven hair cascade down in magic waves upon her shoulders was an adventure in itself.

Alexandra felt his hands on her bottom, on her hips. His touch was so surprisingly sweet! He must be a young recruit. Perhaps this was his first time? She liked to think he was about to lose his virginity to her; that thought fortified her for the hardships that lay ahead. She had beauty that she could use to gain some control over the men.

She liked being touched by these strong boys more than she had expected; a lot more than befitted a princess of Russia. She began to breathe hard and deep as she felt those hands on her butt—and the two men in front of her had been constantly checking her out for the last half hour.

They had hastily torn her dress top wide open, uncovering her bra along with the blinding whiteness of her cleavage, and urgently lowered the opened white dress along her shoulders and arms, right down to her waist, leaving her nearly topless with only her bra remaining. She did not put up any resistance. She was surrendering, like royalty.

They took their time, as the leader felt she was well worth it. He was a seasoned rapist who valued the art of waiting and anticipating that wonderful moment when a white woman’s breasts became suddenly exposed and free-moving. A Chinese girl could be raped with her dress on, but white women deserved the added work.

Right now, they felt like caressing Alexandra through her bra and stroking her face and hair. The Russian princess wasn’t resisting at all. She was panting hard, almost whimpering as her arousal reached unbearable levels.

She yelped with savage excitement when a strong Mongolian hand, dark against her luminous skin, grabbed her bra, and suddenly ripped it off!

Alexandra nearly passed out from sheer arousal as she felt the bandits’ burning gazes on her bare breasts. She stood proud and puffed up her chest to let them enjoy an even better view. Princess Alexandra was not only surrendering; she was giving herself.

The men got their bronze fingers burned on her immaculate whiteness as they cupped her boobs and took a lifetime’s stock of memories as they learned she had pearl-shaped nipples that were of a strong wine-red color and her areolas formed contrasting circles that hit their faces with a beauty they felt they were profaning as they each took turns in kissing those divine breasts that stood high and proud on her topless figure.

Soon, their erections wanted more of her.

Alexandra was now letting out short and soft whimpers, trying to remain stoic under such intense adoration as the hard-faced guards sucked her tits, discovering their silky softness and coating them with slobber as they got intoxicated with her Moscow-perfumed scent. It was a priceless lesson in Russian geography.

These men with baked-earth bronze faces who had slits of shadow for eyes, dark eyes presently filled with joy and anticipation, were caressing the panting girl everywhere, stroking her raven hair, kneading her milky boobs and also kissing her so tenderly that Alexandra opened her mouth for them and gave her tongue to the one who was kissing her.

Chuluuna was flabbergasted as her tongue met his and they kissed as he gently stroked her hair; why wasn’t she resisting?! She was wearing a tiny silver cross on a small silver necklace that she had been hiding under her dress. That cross was adorned with rubies that instilled fear inside Chuluuna; those rubies were like tiny drops of blood. Chuluuna strongly believed in ghosts and vampires.

Alexandra began to moan amid them as they further lowered her dress, uncovering the indescribable beauty of her white hips, and Chuluuna finally got acquainted with the ooh-she’s-naked line of curved shadow that clearly divided in two the lower part of her round-shaped derriere.

Her butt drove them nuts. Their painful erections demanded relief! Soon! Now! Alexandra felt the fury of their desire and this drove her nuts as well.

The three guards were hypnotized by her Imperial beauty. More men gathered around the nude icon. She was panting and moaning under their Mongolian touch.

They worshipped her a lot more than they defiled her, yet it was that very sense of defilement that aroused the young woman and caused her to welcome those fingers inside her pussy as they eagerly got familiar with the black triangle of her beaver.

Their shadowy eyes were all alight with joy. They had never seen a patch of cunt hair that offered such a neat and clean contrast—the same as her neat eyebrows against her immaculate forehead. Her black triangle, surprisingly vast, was perfect amid the luminous field of her lap, under her alluring pubic mound and her navel, a navel that no living man had ever seen before—she had kept it hidden from that Soviet pig, and now she was gladly showing it to the Mongolians.


Stanley was trying to look elsewhere, feeling greatly ashamed and horrified—her sisters Kate and June were being gang-raped only twenty paces from where he sat. His eyes returned constantly to his little sister Kate, naked and getting mounted on all fours by grinning bandits who were clearly enjoying doing this.

He managed to look away, and watched the chaos of fury and despair.

He recognized the brunette daughter of a Soviet diplomat, ten paces away. He didn’t remember her name; Sonia? Natasha? She was pinned down on the grass and screaming her life out as the bandits soon flashed her breasts out of her torn blouse and urgently tucked her dress up, while a young piano concert player he had briefly talked with the previous night was amid a pack of those dirty faces, who presently discarded her torn petticoat, and rushed at her exposed bottom to learn what it feels like to touch a white maiden.

The blonde Ukrainian girl stood like an angel amid demons, frozen with her head cast down as the men ran their dirty hands all over her luminous figure. She was bawling in the restraining arms of her smiling tormentors. Stanley suddenly remembered her name—Sofia. He still believed and hoped he was dreaming. He remembered her as she was aboard the train, wearing her white, refined dress, and she kept smiling at him and hinting at the fact that she was bored while her father smoked a cigar and sipped at a glass of brandy.

Stanley was now seeing her in the nude, between Merkit brigands who were presently worshipping her butt, legs and feet with their tongues. From the look of her, she must have been around fifteen or sixteen years old, maybe seventeen or eighteen.

Everywhere he looked, white girls and women were being similarly defiled.

Gazing everywhere throughout the loud pandemonium, he spotted Alexandra. She stood like a royal figure. Stanley would never forget! She looked like a fantastic being as she stood naked amid her heathen worshippers.

Even when being defiled, she remained noble and proud and amazingly glamorous as she was being kissed and caressed everywhere by Mongolian bandits, some of whom were already naked with their erection ready. The inexperienced young man didn’t notice how hard she was panting and how much she was actually behaving like a high-end strumpet.

“Niet! Niiii!! Prypynitʹ! Prypynitʹ! Prypynitʹ!!! Aaaaaah niiii-niiii niiiii! Niiii aaaaaahhhh-niii!” a girl other than Alex shrieked.

Stanley recognized Sofia’s voice, only ten paces away. They now had her on all fours and Stanley was unable not to be wildly aroused at the sight of her naked butt, prodigiously smooth with subtle tones of almond and ivory in her cream-white complexion, with sweeping curves that drove all men present nuts.

The Mongolian bandit behind Sofia tapped his earth-bronze cock on those curves. It was a really big cock. Stanley felt a raging erection as he confusedly witnessed the scene, both harrowing and splendidly erotic, as the smiling bandit knelt behind the girl, as if to pray to some goddess, while the three or four other men restrained the squealing girl, who kept repeating the same thing…

“Prypynitʹ! Meni vsʹoho ***tsyatʹ rokiv! Prypynitʹ!! Prypynitʹ! Niiiiiiii!”

Stanley didn’t understand much; he just knew she wasn’t speaking Russian, but Ukrainian and from the tone she used, she was certainly begging them all to stop and “Niii” probably meant “No”. His erection was raging, and he would have been unable not to masturbate, all so shamefully, had his hands not been tied up behind him.

The kneeling Merkit spat into his hand and put slobber on his weapon. His friends were firmly holding the maiden, who shrieked in absolute agony as the bandit rammed his huge cock inside her. The man started to pound her, driving her lovely curves against him as he deflowered her without mercy, while she kept screaming her agony, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAhhhh aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Prypynitʹ! Prypynitʹ-prypynitʹ! Meni vsʹoho ***tsyatʹ rokiv! AAAAAAAHH NNIIiiiii AAAAAAAA-NIIIII AAAHHH…”

Stanley wanted to look away, but he was turned into stone by Sofia’s whiteness that constantly buffeted against the savage man, in a never-ending concert of acute suffering that subsumed large chapters of human history. He couldn’t keep himself from being horny and wanting to fuck. He couldn’t forget his evening chat with the quiet, nice Russian girl who spoke English and French at her young age, who wore such a simple, yet elegant dress of a forest green that became her so nicely—that very same dress had been ruthlessly torn off her, and she was now down on her hands and knees, naked and receiving the Mongol’s unbridled fury.

The rape was brief and very urgent. The man, at least twice Sofia’s age, had his mouth wide open with slobber dripping down as his upper body was bobbing and making him look like some demented automaton as he furiously banged the girl and he suddenly let out a cry of warlike victory…

“Hoohu! Uukhai!”

And he pressed his lap forcefully against Sofia’s white butt, like a dog finishing to blow his load inside a bitch. “Hoohu! Uukhai!” the man repeated as he finished to relieve himself and soon got up to his feet while slapping the girl’s wide butt as he laughed with the next man, and both grinned, looking like one man telling the other that “this girl is very good to fuck”.

Stanley finally snapped out of it and looked away, only to spot the nightmarish scene where Kate was getting rear-ended while June was restrained by her arms, between two bandits who stood and stooped down, smiling as they forced her to squat down and bounce on the Mongolian Captain’s lap, with both her feet on one side as if constantly sitting down on his erection while he furiously bounced her on him, lying down on the ground and easily restraining her by the waist as he forced her to constantly squat down and up for his sexual enjoyment.

June’s bobbed hair was alive and moving as the brunette was thoroughly shaken, her legs and the crease of her left hip perfectly visible to Stanley, who gasped at her sister’s beauty. He had almost forgotten! He had spied her twice as she got out of a shower, very carefully, and the last time he did this was five years before.

June’s shaken tits summed up the debauchery she was being subjected to. She leant forward, her head and hair shaking and constantly whimpering as the Merkit Captain, lying on the grass, kept bouncing her on his lap, vigorously, his mouth wide open in an expression of unadulterated delight, when he suddenly let out a long-winded growl and Stanley, his erection painfully hard, understood that he was filling up his elder sister.

Stanley broke down and cried, madly hoping that this was a nightmare and he was going to wake up on the train, on his way to Peking with his sister sleeping on the other end of the compartment, safe and sound—gorgeous and tantalizing even for a brother.

He opened his eyes and found he was still standing on the steppe with white women, including his sisters, getting gang-raped by brown-faced brigands all around him.

What was this mad world where Parisian dresses got torn off a nice girl whose naked breasts fell in a sudden, indecent display? Where concerto pianists like Sofia were forced to put their delicate hands down on the savage grass… Where nuns, yes, even nuns ended up the same way as all the other white girls—down on the grass and repeatedly gang-raped by arkhi-drinking Mongolians…

Not far off, a dignified governess named Paula was finally subdued after putting up a fierce resistance, and the bandits had played cat and mouse with her, tearing and removing her dress and her corset bit by bit, holding her at one point to remove her shoes, before resuming the merry-go-round as they pushed her around them and constantly groped her with loud catcalls.

She presently shrieked her heart out as the pack of grinning Mongolians finished removing the last remnants of her torn underwear, uncovering the surprising youth of her legs and feet as they discerned some specks of white here and there in the blackness of her austerely styled hair, all pulled up together in a severe-looking beehive that indicated she was still mentally living in the 19th century.

She was probably much older than her wonderful nakedness indicated. Her breasts showed little signs of sagging, and her face was still perfectly soft and pretty enough for Merkits to plan on paying tribute to her facial beauty with their cocks. A young bandit was already naked and ready for her with an impressive erection.

“Oh, my God! This young fellow could almost be my grandson! But oh, he’s big and hard!” Paula thought in her native Finnish as the naked bandit settled himself on top of her spread-eagled nakedness. Very few women of her age get to know once again the heat of a handsome young man who enthusiastically lays himself down on top of a conquest that agrees with his youth-expecting eyes.

The young stud sank himself inside Paula, and the immoral coitus began. The ageing woman loved it more than she would ever admit. So much heat and lust inside him! And there were four or five men waiting for their turns, their pricks out and ready… For the first time in her fifty-five years of life, the dignified governess felt like a cheap trollop.

Little did she knew how afraid of her that young Merkit was growing as he noticed the white strands breaking the magic spell of her black hair, and saw in her eyes how ancient she was to him, yet she was still youthful and gorgeous in her body. He too believed in vampires, but he was too far gone in the act.

He passed his edge and as he contemplated the wild tumult of her free-moving tits, the Merkit grunted like a sick yak and graced her seasoned pussy with a massive load of fresh semen. He was unable not to scream. It was so intense!

A young nun was being forcibly disrobed right next to her, and her Italian protests mingled with the governess’s Finnish. She had put up an even fiercer resistance, managing to fight back before being overwhelmed and put to the law of Merkits.

The eighteen-year-old nun from Modena, her vows freshly pronounced, was a bride of God. The bandits had found her chastely covered by her white wimple and her white gown with a black crucifix of precious onyx on her chest. Her holy voyage to a mission in China—rebuilt in 1902, two years after it was sacked and burned down to the ground by rebellious Boxers.

Her pious pilgrimage was brutally halted by the surprise attack. The bandits had immediately noticed the carnal assets hidden under her robes.

At present, somewhere on the remote steppe, some distance away from the Chinese border, Francesca was shrieking in panic, surrounded by horny Mongolians as she felt a man’s hand on her bosom, and also down between her legs, for the very first time.

Francesca tried to hit and kick, and fought back frantically, her onyx crucifix still protecting the risen shapes of her tantalizing breasts, but the whiteness of her gown was soiled by earth-copper hands as the men shook her and threw her wimple down, admiring the falling display of her long brown hair, and they groped her ass as well, telling her gross sweet-nothings she fortunately didn’t understand.

But she fought back like a panther! An Italian tigress!

She managed to claw her fingers at a young man’s eyes, making him yelp and take a step back as he cursed against his gods.

Showing she had the making of a true fighter, the nun kicked another man directly into his groin, and the heavy man—twice her size—fell down on the grass, where he lay in fetal position, wondering whether he had just lost a testicle.

Then a tall Corporal hit her forehead with the butt of his rifle and another man punched her hard in the stomach, cutting her fight short of steam.

The fierce nun fell down on her knees, groggy, going down on all fours, where she was grabbed by all limbs at once. They were going to show her!

They made her stand amid their pressed circle, pressing her breasts and butt. The tall, bearded Corporal slapped her, and the flow of her long dark hair hit his face like a breeze from the West as her head swung to the side. The men holding her laughed at her and groped her bosom some more.

“I love it when they fight back!”

“Hey, she-wolf, show us what you got under that robe!”

“We’ll tame you, she-wolf! We’ll show you we’re the best riders under the sky! We Mongolians have our roots in the wind!”


“Be ready for a long ride! I love your legs!” said the last man, holding her ankle and presently pushing her dress all the way up, uncovering her bent leg to her upper thigh, slender and alluring. They all whistled upon seeing this promising appetizer.

Francesca had no idea whatever they were saying, but their lewd tone gave her no doubt as to the fate awaiting her. God was allowing this to happen, but she rebelled against her fate as it conflicted directly with her vow of chastity.

“Noo! No, vi prego! Sono la sposa di Dio! La sposa di Dio!!!” the Italian nun screamed at the leader’s bearded face in a broken voice. She was God’s bride!

The bearded Corporal, a heathen barbarian, knew nothing of her fine language, let alone Dante and Boccaccio. He slapped her hard and stunned her into shocked silence. Yes, raping that little she-wolf was going to be fun!

Then, he pulled his knife—a Chinese knife he had taken from a patrolman after killing him, and before raping the girl the man was protecting; it was beautiful with shark skin covering the handle for a comfortable grip. She gasped at the sight of the blade.

Using that sharp blade, he began cutting the thick fabric of her gown, while a man brutally broke the beaded necklace holding her crucifix and brandished the artifact in front of him as he announced he was going to put the longest end inside her asshole. She was fortunate not to understand Mongolian.

Francesca writhed in the men’s grasp while the bearded Mongolian finished cutting a large gap in her gown. She desperately tried to break free, spitting on her tormentor’s face and making him smile with an evil grin as the other men kept mocking her.

He sheathed back his knife, before grabbing the screaming girl’s gown at her chest, and he joyfully ripped it open and off her light chemise, which his strong hands made short work of as the other men cut off her rope belt and pulled down all her garments—her gown along with her chemise—and peeled that white confused mass of fabric all the way down her pristine body.

The Corporal let out a loud grunt of primal satisfaction as he first saw the display of her natural chest, with two knolls adorned by nipples that seemed to be suddenly looking out at the open air and frightened at these men gazing at them and smiling like savages with cruel eyes. He noticed that she had a nice birthmark of dark brown just a bit under her left areola, which was of a warm light-brown hue and subtly fading into her rich ivory complexion. There was absolutely no sagging in her tits; they looked pure and spiritual.

The girl shrieked in panic as they uncovered all of her! Everything from her juicy tits down to her paint-model hips, wonderful in their rich complexion, and the discarded garments gave way to the secret triangle of dark hair adorning her crotch, a treasure of velvety hair that only nuns and God had seen.

The jeering Mongols left Francesca completely naked except for her sandals, which made her look like an antique vestal about to get gang-raped by heathens who did not fear the gods. Few vestals had such pristine legs over Rome’s long history. Francesca was a true heiress of marble temples.

The Merkits couldn’t believe their luck as their dark eyes almost leapt out of their sockets, and their cocks came right out. They were going to rape her good and proper!

Francesca sobbed and wailed. The bearded leader fingered her pussy, laughing as the men whistled, and she shrieked as if those fingers were a red-hot iron as she felt them inside her sanctum.

The well-read aristocratic girl began to recite an Ave Maria, as if uttering a prayer in Latin would make the earth-faced demons go away.

Then, they lowered her still-resisting and writhing body onto the grass, smiling fiercely as they looked down on her exposed beauty and anticipated the fathomless joy of taking her virginity.

Francesca screamed like a heathen tramp in a Roman brothel as they forcibly spread-eagled her, contemplating the light-full wonders of her beauty under the evening sun, and trying to guess her young age with each man giving an immoral adjective for her.

She presently shrieked like a slaughtered sow because the tall Corporal was covering her under his large frame with his trousers down, and her screaming got worse as he brought the head of his eager cook near her entrance, nesting himself on top of her and using one hand to guide himself to her entrance.

She shook her little fists and they almost lost their grip on her wrists as she frantically raised her head in an attempt to bite her rapist’s face. But the tall Corporal was out of reach; he raised himself up and slapped her three times, hard, drawing blood from her mouth and reducing her to shocked silence.

Supporting his weight on one elbow, he moved himself around, where he lay on his side while the other men put her into position where her legs were propped up and her pussy was perfectly aligned with his hard erection. Rape time!

“No! Nooo! No! No! Nooo! Non è possibile! È imposibile! Impossibile!” the sobbing girl cried out, frantically trying to escape them as they firmly kept her in position for their leader. The only bit of freedom left for her was to shake her head in a brown-haired blur of panic as she kept repeating that this was impossible.

The large Mongolian, resting on his side, pushed his dry cock forward and grunted his unbelieving satisfaction as he pushed inside her.

He loved how she screamed from pain. He meant to punish the little she-wolf, but he found her entrance wet and not all that difficult to break into.

As the bearded Mongolian began to rape her and took a firm hold on her hips, she screamed like a lost soul as something broke within her soul, never to be repaired, and her shattered world became one with the man’s grunts as he lay on his side and repeatedly pushed himself deeper inside her with each stroke while his men firmly held the screaming and wailing girl.

He reveled in the act, raping her urgently with a liberating sense of elation, with her legs up above his flank as her sandaled feet offered a lovely sight to behold where Mongolian hands kept her ankles in a vice-like grip. She was well worth his sweat as he further familiarized himself with her tight intimacy and relished her wails and whimpers as he made a woman out of her.

In this unusual position—he was trying it for the first time—the man greatly enjoyed the feel of her young vagina, the sight of those small feet in sandals, the profound richness of her skin and the jiggling display of her breasts as he held her hips and violently shook her, contemplating her bobbing face.

She was so pretty, so fun to rape! And she just kept wailing and screaming. “È imposibile! Impossibile! Sono la sposa di Dio! Nooo-aaa-aaahhh aaaaaaaaahhh… Nnaaaooaaa aaaa Aaaaaaaahhh!”

“Listen to the she-wolf! What music she makes! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” said the man holding her ankles together as he brutally pulled her sandals off her feet and threw them away, and then the strong Mongol took great delight in licking those lovely little feet of hers. So fierce a fighter standing on such tender feet!

The other men laughed along with him. They kept their firm restraint on her as she kept fiercely trying to break free. Female fighters were a delicacy to rape. It was wonderful to put her snout right into her female nature by brutally raping her. Sometimes, rarely, they got lucky and ambushed a handful of Cossack horsemen, some of whom turned out to be horsewomen.

The bearded Corporal raped Francesca with unspeakable glee. Oh yes! Yes! Yes! Pushing his prick deep inside her! Again! Again and again! The little she-wolf! This was so much fun!

He knew she was going to be a great fuck from the first time he saw her on that train. She had marched hands tied together, roped to his horse the whole day through. Now, she belonged to him.

The bearded man loved doing it while lying on his side where he kept a constant hold on the girl’s waist and enjoyed a wonderful side view on the divine motions of her desecrated breasts—those young milk jugs were chastely hidden under her robe and crucifix only minutes before.

He made his pleasure last as long as he could stretch it; every thrust inside her was pure paradise; the juicy pressure caressed each of his fibers, and she kept whimpering like a bitch, face up to the evening sky with her head bobbing back and forth between the grinning Merkits holding her and licking her shaking boobs.

He slowed down and kept hammering her, hypnotized by the pure softness of those ever-moving breasts. It was a beautiful rape!

As she remained a prisoner of Merkit hands, rocked endlessly on East-Mongolian grass, she kept repeating her Ave Maria, screaming “Sono la sposa di Dio!” now and then as the brown waves of her hair moved along with her ever-bobbing head, tears rolling down her pretty face and giving out an occasional star of sunlight amid the confusion of her features.

Her rapist is now grunting out of control; the broken virgin knows instinctively that it will soon be over. Amid her whimpers, she fights her bodily urge to climax.

The Mongolians firmly held her arms stretched on either side of her, while others were already out of their Russian uniforms and showing her their earth-bronze cocks. They watched her while masturbating. Raping white women was the best!

The naked nun suddenly felt an explosion of shame inside her as her young body strongly responded to the onslaught with forceful arousal, and she lost control of her body and bolted in their arms, whimpering hard, her body gloss with sweat, her breasts swollen under Mongolian hands as she got owned deep and hard by that stud of a horseman, in that unusual position where lovers formed a cross with their bodies.

He realized he had yet to see her bottom, so he moved the fatigued girl around a bit as he kept on his relentless barrage of thrusts, this time with her butt halfway facing him, and then… he was hit by her curvy splendor! Francesca’s butt and hips looked child-bearing wide against the slimness of her waist, and he was banging those forbidden curves! This was too much!

The bearded Mongolian grunted even louder, “Hrrr, hurr, hurr hurr!” as he bounced her wonderful ass against him, and she leaned back, showing a perfect display of pushed-out tits as she bolted and let out a fair-sailing cry of forced bliss while he banged her as hard and rough as if his life depended on this. He was going to make her a baby!

“Aaaaaaa-aaaaaahhh! Nooooo! Sono la-haaa la sposa dii Dio-hooo!” she let out amid their animalistic copulation, and that did it for him!

He suddenly bolted while the girl shot a new salvo of plaintive-sounding whimpers, “AAAH AAAAaa No! No-aaa, aaah aahh ahaa sono sposa di Dio-oo Aaahhh…”

As she did so, the Mongolian stud screamed his bliss as he erupted inside her with liberating force, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHRRR!!! Uukhaiii!”

One big cum-shot was followed with an even bigger and longer one that literally cut him in two and left him breathless as he shot two or three other bolts of steaming jism, fully reveling in the unspeakable delight.

He powerfully relieved himself inside the Italian nun, loving the daintiness of her sandaled feet as he gave her a full load of Merkit cum. Oh, it felt so good! So good! He ought to have her again!

The next man, stark naked and displaying a handsome physique that Francesca was forced to find pleasing to her eye, moved in and also laid on his side, eager to also try the novel position. And before long, Francesca, the second-born daughter of a Barone from Modena, was whimpering again with a large Mongolian cock inside her. She was relieved that her father didn’t see this. He must never know! No one was to ever know her secret!

Suddenly remembering her vows, the nun began to swear at her rapists again. She called them the filthiest names she could think of in Latin and Italian, oblivious of her intense vaginal pain and only aware of her spiritual and moral death, while the Merkit brutally confirmed her deflowering with his loud grunts.

He hammered her in complete frenzy, loving the contrast of her moving breasts against the Mongolian grass and the hills on the darkening horizon, and he took unfathomable joy in the act of savagely raping her.

He kept running his hands on the silky softness of her thighs as he drove her into him, again, again and again, in that fun rape of a white girl—uhh! Uhh uhh uhh uhh—until he was hit by the ultimate delight and his cock polluted the nun who had fought like a panther to avoid the unthinkable.

The bandits were doing to her what they had thought about the entire afternoon. It was so much fun to rape a girl after watching her and desiring her for hours. The most extreme delight was to take a town after a long siege and finally getting their hands on the town’s womenfolk! Some of them were fortunate enough to have earned this distinction; those men were held in high esteem and respected by all. They were the ones who told tales of past wars by the campfire.

At present, they rolled the naked nun over, and whistled at the sight of her ungodly beautiful butt. They nearest men all laughed as they grabbed or slapped her sweet Italian buns. They reveled in her protests; the sounds of her “no! Noo! No!” was wonderful music to their ears.

The next man rushed at her, his prick hard and ready, and he savagely grabbed her hips and knelt behind her while the others, firmly holding her wrists and ankles, and slapping her as she tried to bite at them, helped him in positioning the swearing nun on all fours, where her butt and legs and sandaled feet illuminated the dusty world of the steppe riders as they enjoyed this exceptional feast for their senses. They clearly had never raped an Italian noble maid before.

Three successive men mounted the Italian nun. Each enjoyed every second of the sweet crime, and her swearing and cursing didn’t help her. She felt their gazes on her booty as her long hair kept swaying back and forth along with her overhanging tits as one rider after the other violated her and flooded her with jism. She received a lot as she kept swearing amid her cries.

Francesca suddenly spotted something on the ground near her as she kept being shaken amid her unbridled rape. It was hers. A photo of herself from two years prior, when she wasn’t yet a nun and loved to wear elegant dresses with her hair arranged in a very elaborate style. She was shocked at how glamorous she looked, she who was presently being bucked from behind by disgusting bandits

The English-speaking clergyman looked intensely at the scene as the petite Italian brunette got gang-raped next to the fallen whiteness of her medieval wimple. He yelled at the men, called them dirty devils, but he would have partaken in her rape if he had been free to do so. His cock was just as hard as if he were twenty again. He had spotted the nun while looking away from where three men kept raping his daughter Maude and scandalously explored her body.

Francesca, a highly educated noble maid, was now swearing and cursing and whimpering like a cheap trollop, with the added shame of the orgasms that her young, betraying body kept imposing on her. The nun kept proclaiming she was God’s bride as the men kept raping her like horny stallions, taking their pleasure while watching other white women getting raped near them.


Alexandra didn’t offer such a vulgar outburst of resistance. Countesses, baronesses or princesses in medieval times, she thought, surrendered themselves stoically and silently to the victorious men-at-arms in a fallen castle. Those men were met with unexpected nobility and grandeur, she thought, and were in turn confronted to their own villainy.

Princess Alexandra Yuriya Holstein-Gottorp-Romanov let her attackers lay her down on the grass, where her aristocratic nakedness was laid out on that green carpet and offered a figure of perfection that the Merkits grew strangely shy to touch, understanding the extraordinary quality of their prisoner.

It was only in her special case that the bandits hesitated as to know who would dare to be the first man inside her, whereas all the other white girls were brutally and savagely gang-raped by men who took their turns in order of rank or in no particular order.

Princess Alexandra felt astonished upon seeing the Mongolians hesitate as they stood above her nakedness.

She waited, until one of them, the youngest one, finally laid down on top of her. He took her in his embrace and started to kiss her with surprising tenderness, but why not? They were free men owning her body, and they could decide to make love to her instead of brutally raping her.

Alexandra didn’t expect such a soft turn of events. This was actually the very first time a boy was kissing her in a truly romantic way—a Mongolian boy, young and very handsome. He was indeed so young by his looks that she felt old in comparison.

She astonished herself by caressing his back; her dainty hands were moving of their own volition, and she opened her legs wider under him and moved her own lap in such a way as to press her sex against him. She was glad to be in the arms of such a young buck for her first time that would really count.

Princess Alexandra stopped the boy as he kept ravenously kissing her while all his mates watched and dared not interfere. She nodded at him, in a way that he understood without words, and he timidly lowered his trousers to give her his unwavering erection. She knew she was going to get raped, and it was a relief for her to gain some control as to how this was happening; she also felt curious as to what having so young a man inside her would feel like. He was no older than her little sisters.

“AAAAAhhhh! Da! Da! Da!” Alexandra shouted loud and clear as the youthful bandit forcefully drove his cock inside her, and the odious Soviet General was erased from her memory.

Ooh! God! He had some size! He fell all hot and big inside her; and he was going to fill her up with hot semen. Was she going to have a Mongolian baby?! She found the whole thing strangely liberating. For once, she could let herself go and be a tramp for that night, although she felt unfathomably sorry for her sisters.

Princess Alexandra wrapped her pure-white legs around the young Merkit, who began to pound her and found a steady rhythm as he exhaled his lust and passion against the nape of her neck. She turned to him and kissed him. She liked him. He was just a boy who had no idea of whatever he was doing. He was strong and healthy and that was all she needed in order to feel like a woman under him.

She wished he would go on and on forever, as it felt nice and warm to have him deep inside her, to feel his hot breathe inside her mouth as she kept ravenously kissing him, and she kept receiving his big, big strokes, deep, deep inside her, again, again and again, moaning like a tramp and getting dangerously close to a climax. And oh, God, this was going to be a huge one!

But he was too young and way too far gone to last long.

Princess Alexandra ravenously stroked his pitch-black hair as the young Mongolian boy, now made a man, exhaled a powerful scream of bliss right against the nape of her neck, “AAAA AAAAIIINNNNNNN NNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGHHH!!!”

His semen rushed in a massive stream inside her as he emptied himself, his face buried into the black magic of her hair. Alexandra received all that Merkit semen and its dangerous content while tightly wrapped around him, arms and legs, in a show of incredible whiteness that blinded the onlookers with some sort of mystical ecstasy. They were no longer gang-raping her; they worshipped her.

She released him from her legs and arms and gently kissed him and nodded, making him understand that she had enjoyed the ride.

Then, a man in his mid-twenties tapped on the boy’s shoulder, calling him Chuluuna, and the boy got up to his feet, slowly and reluctantly, while the man patiently waited, seizing the opportunity to kneel down and take her ankle, finally able to take a closer look at her feet.

The short, stocky man kissed Alexandra’s foot, licking the majesty of her dainty whiteness, finding her foot divinely soft under his kisses as he became acquainted with Russian geography.

She found this weird, but she liked this too. His rugged touch was strangely sweet. She suddenly remembered how wet she was when the bandits boarded the train and that same man was groping her through her white dress.

At last, he let himself fall into her arms and entered her in a way that told her he had taken many other women before. Alexandra felt his experience as he began to kiss her, following the boy’s example of kindness. She pictured herself being gang-raped in the first-class compartment, banged hard by those strong Mongolians, her back buffeting the bourgeois woodwork, with her father and her sisters watching.

Under that man, she felt an incredible sense of exploding arousal and she wrapped her limbs around him and moaned hard as he deeply punctured her, ramming his prick home as he took her like a passionate centaur on that grass.

As she took the relentless pounding with her back pinned on the ground, the Russian princess kept moaning, louder and louder, filling her father with shame and a profound sense of guilty arousal as he recognized her voice, even through the dense orgy of rapes unfolding all around them.

A huge force was gathering deep inside her while her head kept bobbing on the grass. She was no longer a princess; she was just one white woman among many white women getting gang-raped and sharing the fate of Chinese girls.

Alexandra tightened the seal of her legs around the short man, and offered the most delightful display of white girl’s feet as she crossed her ankles on top of his back.

One of the onlookers, who had been masturbating, suddenly walked forward and grunted in a demented sort of ecstasy as he shot an impressive load directly on her feet!

Alexandra felt the hot and thick sludge fall on her feet. She never expected such a thing, but that cloak of warmth felt so weird and nice on her skin. She wondered what it would feel like if they did that on her face, and found the thought incredibly arousing. These men were both strange and fierce.

She utterly surrendered herself, letting that second man use her all he wanted. He mounted her with no holds barred! She moaned like a tramp!

She suddenly bolted and exploded under him, moaning like a mating bitch, “Aaa, aaaa, aaaa, aaaa-aaaahh, Da! Da! Da!”

The Russian princess let herself sink in a depraved form of bliss, reveling in the act of totally surrendering to her conquerors, who were hammering her with such vigorous force. Her rapists had never seen a woman surrender to them so completely, but it was also their first time raping a woman with royal blood. She existed on an entirely different plane.

Her novice hands kept running along the man’s naked backside as she climaxed again, hard, uttering a new series of “Da! Da! Da!” in her exploding sounds of St. Petersburg Russian, the rhythm of her sweet voice following the overwhelming pounding she was under. She felt a strange, savage joy to be their plaything for the night.

Princess Alexandra was answering their act of cruelty with love. She felt this was the right thing to do, and Heaven was giving her a reward in the form of pleasure and kindness from these cruel men.

She received the man’s final flourish inside her, and the other men closed in on her, emboldened by her complete surrender.

They gave her an orgy and put her on a steady regimen of gang fucks. Each man wanted to worship her in his personal way, enjoying every little inch of her body. At one point, she had Mongolian hands on her, everywhere at once.

Alexandra raised her arms and Chuluuna held her wrists together, pinned on the ground, while the next man propped her legs all the way up.

He held his earth-brown cock in his hand, and watched the glorious sight of his cock entering between her folds as he stuck it deep inside her cum-soaked cunt.

Then, he did what any self-respecting Mongolian rider would do. He treated her like a tramp and fucked her as hard as he could, holding her ankles and leaning onto her propped-up legs as she saw his wide earth-copper face above her, between her white legs, while her gloriously white feet pointed straight at the sky.

She loved being plowed with her legs up and moaned loud and hard while she motioned Chuluuna, who was holding her wrists, to stoop down and kiss her, and she intensely climaxed in their arms, feeling so much more of a woman than ever before.

The young rider who was pounding her suddenly exploded in a wild-bull triumph and surrendered to his own bliss as his cock burst inside her and liberated a massive load, violating all barriers between social classes and race.

The men now had her almost upside down, and the one in charge was pounding her with her shoulders pinned into the grass as if they were trying to hammer her down into the ground, with her bent legs and her magic feet all propped up for their savage enjoyment. Basking in her debasement, Alexandra let them fuck her like a doll and sank into her thoughts, her eyes half-closed as her now-aching head kept bobbing on that grass along with her rocked body.

When she had shown up at the General’s mansion, she had been shocked and disgusted at herself as she found herself secretly hoping there would be a group of several officers—or better still, a platoon of Bolshevik soldiers—and she would get gang-raped on a massive table, forced to be taken with her legs propped up or from behind in the classic bent-over position she had always fantasized about.

Instead, she had found only one excuse of a man—some fat pig in a General’s uniform, old and bald and quite ugly, and he reeked of cheap cigar and vodka, with armpits that turned out smelly, especially when he took off his odious uniform. But her family was on the line and she spent the whole night doing whatever he asked of her.

She would never forget the revolting taste of his cum. At present, she was being gang-fucked by a pack of Mongolian horsemen somewhere near China.

After filling her up several times over, they let her lie down on the grass in fetal position and admired her naked beauty as she was left panting hard with her pussy filled with fresh cum.

Princess Alexandra Yuriya Holstein-Gottorp-Romanov collected herself a bit and got up on her knees as the most gorgeous figure of white nakedness they had ever seen.

In her altered state of happy exhaustion, she felt extremely curious and used signs to make the Mongolians understand that she wanted to take them inside her mouth. She had never done this to any man. She had surprised her young sister Nadejda doing this to Father and nearly fainted, but she never said anything and had been spying them often while masturbating.

The men were very reluctant to enter her mouth. Doing this could be extremely dangerous, but she had been so docile!

Instead, Chuluuna laid himself down right beside the kneeling princess and gently stroked her legs. He used signs to make her understand he wanted her to ride him. Alexandra’s blue eyes lightened up with girly curiosity as she had never done this either—mounting a man. This one was so young and strong—he had already taken her once.

Moments later, she was straddling the boy. He cupped her breasts inside his darker hands while she felt an intense thrill to be holding his cock as she lowered herself directly onto him, feeling his burning pillar as she felt his cock suddenly inside her.

“OOOaaaahhh…” Alexandra uttered as she and him became one. She looked down at him, fascinated and frightened by his exotic features as she began to bounce on his lap, adjusting the rhythm and angle of penetration just the way she wanted, and fully letting herself go.

Her father watched and got glimpses of her, thinking he didn’t see right. Was she really on top of that animal?!

Princess Alexandra Yuriya Holstein-Gottorp-Romanov moaned hard, and harder still, arching her back like a wild woman and giving to all men the wonderful display of her breasts, pushed out of her chest as she made the best of their average size by getting her nipples pointing up as high as she could while bouncing on the Mongolian boy.

Under the sunset, a large gathering of men had formed around the Russian princess who kept bouncing herself on that boy like a seasoned trollop, moaning hard.

She suddenly reached out and took hold of the nearest erection, and as she kept riding the boy, she looked up to the man, who turned to be a bearded rider about the age of her father, and she kissed his cock and gave it a long lick of her tongue, while the boy under her let out a sudden groan of unbridled fury as he forcefully erupted.


Chuluuna screamed out loud as he gave Alexandra another helping of Merkit semen, and as he enjoyed the last of his ejaculation, he watched the glorious whiteness of her jiggling boobs and wine-rosy nipples, against the blackness of her hair while she kept kissing and licking the older man’s cock under the orange sky of clouds.

The boy, panting with his mouth wide open, watches the strangeness of it all—a white woman, gorgeous in her nakedness, is pleasuring the cock of a Merkit using her hand and her mouth! All this while straddling him!

The man whose brown cock is being massaged and licked by the Russian princess can’t hold his sauce. This is too beautiful! Her face is so sweet and lovely to watch! Her hair is so fascinating, so black and sleek that it catches the warm bronze light of the setting sun! Her hand holding his cock is so dainty! Her licking tongue breaks the last straw of sweetness…


The Merkit bandit grabs the base of his big shaft as he utters this long-winded growl, and he masturbates hard, grunting like a baboon as he pumps strong and thick shots of semen that lands in repeated ropes of glistening slime on Alexandra’s pretty face and slim nose, forming dripping pools of Mongolian glory on her pure-white skin.

This becomes a trend.

Two more men in a state of extreme arousal masturbate with a death grip and a frenetic hand and within seconds, they follow the first man in what starts to look like a contest aimed at finding out who grunts the loudest and who spews the largest and thickest load of semen.

As the whitish rain of cumshots lands on her face, her cleavage and her tits, Alexandra nearly climaxes, her waist being gently held by Chuluuna, who is still under her, and even still inside her.

Princess Alexandra Yuriya Holstein-Gottorp-Romanov looks more beautiful than ever as she feels the heat of all their collective semen upon her face and bosom.

Another man also cums on her face, and he wipes his cock on her hair once he’s done. Alexandra’s raven hair and the Imperial whiteness of her skin allows her to retain some measure of her usual glamour as the Merkits move her around so they can see how white her butt really is.

Alexandra moans out hard, feeling she’s about to die out of sheer ecstasy as the Mongolian bandits start to lick and kiss her butt with ravenous appetite while other hands run all over her body, from her breasts right down to her feet.

Some of them have only taken her once, and they feel the urgent need to make sure they really enjoy her, so they give her the stallion treatment. They start to take their turns and have her in a position they can’t get enough of.

Fucking from behind is very popular among the Merkits. So Princess Alexandra is kept on all fours, subjected to the base instincts of a numerous string of bandits who all rape her urgently, banging her white and round buttocks against them as if their very lives depended on how good and hard they were able to fuck this aristocratic maid.

Her father catches some glances of her recognizable nakedness through the throng, and he gets as hard as a rutting ox. Yes, he’s going to punish his elder daughter. The cheap trollop!

Alexandra is far gone. In her extremely altered state, it weirdly feels that she belongs to the steppe, that this is where she should be. Her young body loves to be on all fours, to feel that tender grass under her knees, to feel all these fierce hands on her—all of them primitive warriors who won her through the timeless laws of war. And to feel their unstoppable cocks inside her and hear their primal scream of victory when they give her their cum. This is life as it should be!

Princess Alexandra Yuriya Holstein-Gottorp-Romanov keeps feeling the cushions of her buttocks repeatedly collide against the man having her, whoever he is. She willingly gives herself to her conquerors, like any decent princess would in a fallen castle.

More men are still waiting their turn; others want yet another go, but can they? They challenge each other to try. Wagers are taken on who can give her the most numerous cumshots. Chuluuna takes a wager. He’s getting hard and masturbating as he watches the surreal scene while the night falls on the remote steppe.


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  • Reply Big bad John ID:2muspuh6ib

    Histbuff your part 2 was as good as the first. 5 stars from me again!!

    • HistBuff ID:4gmi91iv3

      Thanks, Big Bad John! One of the rare times I’ve used some nude pics, of course for an 18+ character. The clothed pics from the 1920’s make the story a lot more fun to write. The forced undressing of Nadejda and Kate are probably my favourites!