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Mongolian Bandits Attack Train (interracial, humiliation, outdoors, incest, 1920s)

26462 words | 8 |4.60

Summer 1923. The Siberian Express gets stopped and looted by a horde of Mongolian bandits, who leave with hostages, among whom are white women.

Note: The first chapter is a very long one (25 K). Unlike most stories on this site, this one is more like a novel that turns into shameless smut. The setting takes some time to establish, but then, when the gang-rapes do start, the character development pays off and all that erotic tension build-up explodes!

I nonetheless put scenes and thoughts that are filled with erotism right from the start. Even though it’s a rape story, those characters have their dreams, their desires and their bodily urges. There are incest elements too that you’ll run into very soon in the story.

There are many pictures that will show you what the characters looked like. I have chosen pictures from the 1920’s so the clothes and hairtstyle are right. Some readers will enjoy the change of pace.

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Siberian Express, 1923

June’s diary…

Jonathan Harker wrote in his journal, on his way to Count Dracula’s castle, that the farther East you go, the more unpunctual trains are, and he’s absolutely right! We were supposed to be gone from Irkutsk station at 8 P.M. yesterday, but we had been kept waiting for some silly reason, the locomotive operator being sick, his wife being sick or something of the kind. We only departed this morning at 7. Oh, but this turned out wonderful as we made our way near the shores of a fabled lake with crystal waters. Lake Baikal was a priceless sight, and we would have missed these myriads of diamonds of wave reflections had we passed through in night-time.

I’m quite thrilled to be on my way to Peking. I’ll get to see the bullet impacts still on the walls of the diplomatic buildings, where a group of gallant men and women fought that dreadful siege already 23 years ago, against overwhelming odds. One wonders the unspeakable things the Boxers would have done to the Europeans, their wives and their daughters if they had won, and it came so close! I shiver just to think of what dreadful fates could have been for those brave girls… I prefer not to think about what I think those Chinese men would have done to me!

God wouldn’t allow such unspeakable things to happen to civilized people and good Christians. There seems to be some sort of invisible shield protecting us, Whites, from the horrors that so often befall to the Colored people, who need us and our civilization to guide them to a better future. Yes, science and medicine is a bright future indeed, and Peace… now that horrible war is over in Europe and even in Russia too, or must I say the Soviet Union since the Bolsheviks won. Their agents always look through me with penetrating gazes whenever I have to produce my passport. They’re so intimidating! I feel naked in front of them, and the strange thing is… I secretly like this. There’s a part of me who wishes to get arrested, then jailed, interrogated and… Again, I dare not write all those things that would be done to me and my 17-year-old sister.

The Siberian Express offers all the modern comfort a civilized traveler can hope for. I’m sharing my first-class compartment with Kate, the short for Katrina, my favorite sister, and Stanley our “big brother” who is actually two years my junior. I still call him my little brother, although he now stands six feet two inches and is towering a full foot above me and Kate.

It was difficult to convince Father to let her do this exciting trip along with me, but I know how to handle Father and he gave in. Kate keeps telling me I look just as young as her. She’s being kind. There’s no way a 24-year-old woman can look as youthful as Kate, who does have the same raven hair and fair skin as I, but she looks like a spotless porcelain icon of blossoming beauty.

She’s so stylish! I have two pictures of her. One from last year when she was goofing outside as a maiden “Queen of Spades” last year in a park near our home in Manhattan. The other one taken a week ago in Moscow, showing her in the same funny hat she’s wearing now, looking both comical and glamorous in that dark, heart-shaped “mouse hat” and her fancy gloves, dark as the rest of her outfit, and offering me that mystic smile she’s famous for.

What’s more, today is Kate’s seventeenth birthday and I’m taking her to the dining car tonight for a special dinner and of course, a happy-birthday cake. Kate is the best little sister a girl could imagine! We’re sharing the same bunk, and it’s really nice to be sleeping together as we used to when we were just little girls, before Father became rich through his connections with Rockefeller. Oftentimes, we kiss and hug, laughing ourselves nearly to death and bugging Stanley as he tries to sleep, yet he seems to secretly enjoy watching us together in our sleeping gowns. I know he loves watching our feet. I often let him see mine on purpose, and it drives me nuts to feel his troubled gaze!

I would literally melt if he touched me there! I sometimes fantasize about Kate having sex on top of Stanley with me watching and waiting my own turn.

Our brother Stanley is travelling with us. He had insisted to come, saying we would be travelling through dangerous parts, and we needed a man with us. He means well, but honestly, if we got attacked by a hundred bloodthirsty bandits, I can hardly think of a way for him and his Colt .45 pistol to prevent our falling captives as hostages. If he had read as much as I have about these regions, he would know that bandit attacks are rare, but when they do attack, they do so in overwhelming numbers, and the passengers of the hapless train can but hope and pray they will leave ere long.

I prefer not to think about what could happen to me and Kate if such a possibility did materialize. However, the train’s chief guardsman — a nice gentleman of about sixty years of age whose eyes wandered a bit south, but only for a modest tribute to my natural figure — said things were quiet in Siberia, but he recommended us to take the Trans-Manchurian Railway from Chita to Peking and thus avoid the more troublesome regions in the far East between Khabarovsk and Vladivostok, where bands of Chinese brigands often crossed the borders and were bold enough to attack the Siberian Express along with Russian villages. Just to think of myself and my beloved sister falling in the hands of such… fiends or beasts…
(And then, I know I’m going to pleasure myself while thinking of me falling in such Chinese hands! I can already imagine my tits naked and touched by them! I can feel them inside me! Oh, God! I would scream so loud and hit a wonderful climax in their arms! With my bare feet in Chinese dirt, massaged and kissed by Chinese brigands… Oh, God! I’d be water and fire in their hands!)

Oh, I ought to go to the dining car and have a coffee with some fine pastries. We have an Austrian chef who is a wizard from Vienna! This will make me feel better and safer. But I love the excitement of danger! I’m an adventuress at heart, writing a book about my voyages around the world. I think there are too many adventures and travel stories written by men about men, and always showing women as sidekicks. The world needs more female counterparts, and that’s where I come in. Oh, I must learn some humility…

We’re back from the dining car, where we had a most interesting conversation with a Russian man travelling with his three lovely daughters. He introduced himself as Yuri, a merchant from Moscow on his way to Peking for business, and his elder daughter, Alexandra, along with his twin daughters, Anna and Nadejda, aka Shvibzik which means “the merry little one”.

I tried to talk with him in Russian, but he kept speaking a flawless English that made him almost sound like a perfect English gentleman. Everything in his manners told me he was more, much more than a mere merchant, but he was quite evasive whenever I tried to know more about him and his past. Yet, he kept looking at me and smiling at me, and I could tell from the frequent glances he cast at my bosom that he was fancying me, which was morally more appropriate, from a man of his years, than if he had been looking like this at my little sister Kate.

He nonetheless showed me a picture of himself with his late wife. That picture was from 1912, when he was still in his thirties.

Whenever I asked him anything about his past life, the only thing he would say was, “We lived in St. Petersburg when the Czar reigned. Now we live in Moscow.” He wouldn’t say anything more than this laconic reply, but there was a definite sense of melancholy in his eyes, and this made him so endearing to me. (At one point, I was wet from picturing myself bent over that same table where we drank chai and coffee; he was having me around my waist and was grunting like an unleashed baboon and driving me nuts with his powerful lance inside me, from behind… with little Kate watching!)

At one point during our conversation, as I was sipping my second cup of coffee, his hand touched mine, and it thrilled me more than I had expected. This man is at least 20 years older, but I feel all funny when I think of him and I look forward to see more of him. He will also be travelling on the Trans-Manchuria Railway from Chita on to our final destination.

His daughters are the archetype of what Russian beauty used to be around 1910. They were dressed in an old style, but it suited them well. There was a natural aura of aristocratic beauty about all three of them, especially Alexandra, the elder one.

Alexandra has dark hair so exquisitely styled along with such pale skin and noble features that she looks… like a princess! I’ve seen pictures of royal highnesses and there isn’t one I could think of whom Alexandra couldn’t match in grace and beauty. Yes, she’s that beautiful! I look like a Yankee peasant next to her! No wonder Stanley kept looking at her in a bewildered state of adoration, although only I could observe this so keenly since I know my little brother so well.

Nadejda kept looking at Stanley, who was hardly noticing her and her cornflower-blue eyes; the fool! Shvibzik, the “merry little one” has everything that will make a young man happy, in spades! She looks like a fairy princess who seems caught in a spell of eternal youth. Yuri her father told me his twin daughters turned fifteen earlier that year, while Alexandra will turn twenty next October. Nadejda was lively and merry and asking me a hundred and one questions about life in New York, with fascination lighting up her maid’s features of absolute softness.

Unlike Nadejda, Anna was quiet and melancholic, an effect that was accentuated by her dark, austere dress and the way she just kept looking at the passing landscapes through the window — the distant hills and the endless green grass are constant reminders of how far away from home we are. She nonetheless shares her twin sister’s blue eyes, fair hair and softness of features, although a childhood bout with the pox had left her with a bigger nose that she had difficulty living with. Anna’s hairstyle is also a throwback from the 1900’s, but in a very different way to Nadejda. She looks like some school mistress, much more like Yuri’s young wife than his daughter, in spite of her youthful features.

Kate immediately hit it off with Nadejda. They are so much alike in so many ways! Nadejda is so ungodly pretty. Silly-me felt like kissing her! I want to arrange a game of cards between the three of us.

As we all kept talking and having a great time over café-cognac, I noticed Yuri gave no signs of ending the conversation and he just kept looking at me, which made me feel warm and nice, for he’s still a handsome fellow in spite of his being closer in age to my father. He was so sweet and gentlemanly! He never made Kate uncomfortable, unlike so many men of his age and beyond. He speaks such sophisticated English that it is obvious that he’s a highly educated man. I keep thinking of him as I sit next to Kate in our compartment. I’m unable to get back to my reading of Dracula and Jonathan’s Diary. But uho! We’re coming on to Chita, already!


Bilguun the Fearless rode tall and proud on a high hill, where he stopped. From that vantage point, he observed the exact spot where he was going to strike. It was a place where the train would be going slow, uphill and coming out of a bend. They would derail the train, and then rob the passengers AND take some well-off hostages among the first-class passengers to hold them for ransom. The old guardsman on the Trans-Siberian was their confederate; the old man was no doubt hoping to take a rich booty for his elderly days in the prospect of enjoying a quiet retirement somewhere in China where the Soviets wouldn’t be looking for him. Good for him, but most of all, good for Bilguun and his hundred-strong company of horsemen!

Bilguun’s father had fought among the Boxers back in his day, and he had told him tales about the Christian missions they had burned down to the grown while massacring the priests. As he grew up, Bilguun started asking questions about the fate of the nuns and other women they must have found there. His father would always slap him hard and order him never to ask such silly questions again. This is how Bilguun understood what his father did to these nuns, and why his half-sister had such pale skin and soft features, unlike his own high cheeks, dark bronze skin and pitch-black hair.

He was now thirty-three years old, standing more than six feet tall and one of the strongest men in his homeland. He had fought the Germans in Pomerania and found great pleasure by forcing Polish women to his savage will. He would never forget that night when he and his platoon sacked an abbey and had their way with the young abbess and her nuns.

That young abbess was blonde and looked like an angel, especially with her long hair loose after he had thrown her wimple off her lovely head. And when he began ripping her gown apart using his knife, she had screamed so shrill and loud! She felt amazing! Bilguun still vividly recalled how intense it was when he burst out inside her and gave her a massive load. He had then watched some of his men gang-raping her while holding her bent over a table in the refectory, where a dozen young nuns had been stripped naked and were now urgently shaken out of their holy virtue. The abbess had a heart-shaped pair of buttocks that was so white and soft to the touch! He would never forget that night of orgy. She knew Latin, but she screamed in Polish.

Bilguun “the Bear of Manzhouli” knew there were going to be white women on that train, and he was hard and aroused as he rode his Mongolian horse with a sinister smile on his face. Such beauty had no price, like all things truly divine. And his plan was bound to work! Capturing that train and killing the guards was going to be a cinch. He had waited a long time for this opportunity. All his men were with him for that big looting day!


Nadejda’s Diary (written in Ancient Greek)

My sin is hybris! I am a God-forsaken soul, for I am in Love with Father. Is it so evil of a crime to have the desire to give Life after losing loved ones to a tragic and violent death? I want to give Father a new son and a new wife for the ones He lost. I want to give myself a new brother and also give half of myself to Father, so half of me can be a mother for the family and the other half a loving wife and daughter. I’m all mixed up! Sitting beside Father gives me such a thrill! I’m always hoping He reads what I’m writing, and the possibility also terrifies me!

Oh, I shouldn’t be writing and doing such hybris! I write this in a language only I and Father understand, my sisters not being as good as scholars as I, not even close. There… Hybris again.

It all began so innocently. Life is a string of simple actions, really. Mother and my brother Misha had been taken and we narrowly escaped St. Petersburg, or Petrograd as the heathens now call it. The Reds! May they rot in Hell where they belong! We had escaped and were now living hidden in Moscow, sordidly and in poverty, but we were free and alive, Father, I and my sisters. We never heard any news from Mother and Misha. They are gone, most probably forever, until we meet in the great Hereafter. I hope they didn’t suffer too much.

It was late at night. Anna and Alexandra were sound asleep as usual. I’m a late sleeper and riser, and so is Father. I was at the basin in the kitchen, washing myself with cold water. I thought Father was in his study, which was also the living room in our small, dingy apartment, so I pulled my arms out of my sleeves and let fall my white night gown about my tiny waist, so I stood topless and washing my armpits and my bosom with the cold water and as little soap as possible.

I heard His breathing. So deep. So manly. I knew He was at the kitchen door before I saw Him. I felt his gaze on me. My own breathing accelerated as I stood tall, on top of my little five feet of height, facing Him, the man I adore! Was He going to take me and use me right there in the kitchen? I was ready to give him my virginity, my hymen blood.

I sensed He was looking down at my feet, which I had just washed. He looked a lot more at my feet than at my bosom, which greatly surprised me. I have yet so much to learn about men! But this cast doubts as to the beauty of my titties. Are they good enough for Him? Why do they have to be so small? Why aren’t they like Alexandra’s? Alexandra’s breasts are perfection. I’ve seen them more than once. Alexandra is perfection in every way, a breathing personification of eternal beauty, while I’m just the Merry Little One! So unfair! Oh, again, hybris of me!

So I stood, topless and barefoot in front of Father, both of us alone in the gloomy silence, with only one oil lamp burning and casting fantastic shadows on the mice-infested walls. I sensed the fight within him; He wanted to leave, but there He remained like a statue, as if my merry little figure had just turned Him into stone… He kept gazing at me, at my feet, taken by some sort of trance, His lower lips hanging loose and trembling as He kept religiously looking at my feet.

He wouldn’t take a step toward me nor leave, so I walked to Him, slowly, without a sound except a nearly silent pitter-patter from my little feet on the ceramic tiles. There was some lone creaking sound from the old building. All was quiet.

I went right at Him. I wanted to kiss Him, but He wouldn’t stoop down for me, so I was unable to reach his mouth, but He kept looking down at me in dead silence. And then I noticed It… the Bulge on his pants… His Thing! Just one big, fascinating bulge at the front of His black wool pants! I reached for It with my left hand…

“Nadejda…” Father whispered, “Niet… Niet, pajalhusta…”

But He didn’t move. I could have cut the intensity of His gaze upon me with a knife and taken a big bite of it like the juiciest piece of beef after a heated sacrifice to Zeus!

“Philtaate!” I softly whispered back, answering our mother Russian tongue with Homeric Greek. “Philtaate!” My Love, I whispered again as my hand touched His Bulge. Father’s Bulge! My girly hand turned to water! And not knowing what I was doing anymore, I went down on my knees and began to unbutton His pants. I wanted to worship Him and make Him happy. I had read somewhere in Ovid that men loved it when a girl thit that.

“Nadejda… Niet… Niet…”

He whispered words of refusal, but he remained like a statue, not trying to stop my agile fingers from undoing the brass buttons, and suddenly, His… His… His Thing bounced out and its head struck my forehead in a soft collision of unholy sacrilege! Hybris! Father’s Thing… on my virgin’s face! Oohh, Father! Father…

It was so big! I never imagined the thing of a man being so large! Father! Oh, Father! I kissed It like an adorating priestess worshipping the holiest of all relics and I took It in my trembling hand. I felt His large meat as It throbbed and further inflated under my gentle grip.

We were alone, together, in a silence only broken by our heavy breathing, with the dim oil lamp casting frightening shadows.

“Nadejda… Prekrati… Pre-krati, Oooh… Nadejda… Shvibzik…”

I didn’t stop. I kissed the throbbing head of His Thing and I put it into my mouth. I loved how He was calling me His Merry Little One as I worshipped His Thing, giving Him a loving massage with my little hand and licking and kissing His Thing. I was so clumsy when it first happened! I’m more of an expert now, but then… I was so clumsy! So funny it is in a way… Merry Little One indeed!

His breathing grew deeper and more urgent as I kept worshipping His Rod of flesh. He was so hard and big! Some strange liquid leaked out of the tip, and for a brief moment, I thought it was already over, but He remained hard as an oaken branch. I felt His large hand rest heavily, yet sweetly on top of my head. He began to stroke my hair, oh so gently! His gesture silently told me to carry on.

I kept running my tongue all along His massive glory, massaging it with both hands and going nuts as I felt His wonderful size, now all hot and coated with my own slobber! I would love so much to feel Him inside me! But this He always refuses.

As I kept worshipping His Thing, Father suddenly grew breathless, as if He were at the end of running a full verst as fast as possible, and then, He emitted a very low-pitched growl from deep within Him and I felt His Thing as it twitched madly under my fingers while I was licking Its glans with my twirling tongue.

I stopped and looked at Its tip, and a gushing rush of something hot, gooey and slimy exploded right in my face, and His fatherly heat was splattered all over my merry little face, especially on my nose and all around my mouth. I soon learned to love the feel of that hot slime on my face. Father! I love you, Philtaate!

I stuck my tongue out and tasted Him! It tasted so rancid and unpleasant, but I quickly grew fond of His taste. Father! Father’s semen is now the holiest beverage I can have.

We did this again, often, my sisters being such early sleepers, and us two staying up so late at night, and my discretion is flawless. I go as far as looking at boys my own age, so my sisters won’t suspect anything. Like I did with that very handsome American boy we just met in the diner car along with his sisters, the elder one of whom I don’t like! A cheap Yankee slut who kept looking at Father! And Father kept looking at her! He’s mine!

Sadly, Father keeps refusing to take my virginity. He says this is sacred, this is one of the very few remaining shreds left of our family’s honour and dignity. Why? Why can’t I give Father a new son for the one who’s probably dead? Why can’t I give myself a new brother? So unfair… My hybris, I know…

Right now as I write this, Alexandra is quietly reading a book, and Anna is knitting a new pair of socks. The countryside is now hilly. The train isn’t going as fast now because it’s taking bends and often going uphill. I can imagine the operators in the locomotive shoving more and more coal for the steam engine! These proletarian men are sweating for us, privileged ones.

We’re going to be aristocrats again in China! At last! We’re past Chita and getting closer to China. The border station will be our last check point, the last risk of being discovered before freedom. At last!

When they looked at Father’s papers at Omsk, two agents kept looking at me and my sisters like birds of prey! I thought we were screwed. They finally let us go. Ooh… To think of what these unwashed and illiterate Bolsheviks would have done to me, to Alexandra and Anna! My hand’s trembling and I’m suddenly forgetting my Greek words and writting in plain Russian instead… I don’t want to think about it! My virginity belongs to Father.

But… Why are we going so slow all of a sudden? We’re stopping?! Why are we stopping here?! We’re in the middle of nowhr… Gunshots! I hear gunshots!

The last few sentences were written in Russian by Nadejda’s shaking hand.

All passengers in first, second and third classes were in shock as they heard the gunshots. Other gunshots. More gunshots! There clearly was some fighting at the rear of the train.


The Chinese passengers in the middle and end cars of the train knew all too well the train was being attacked by bandits. They soon saw the bold men in uniform galloping on their horses past their windows. Chinese wives, mothers and daughters filled these lower-class cars with their Oriental screams of panic, expressing their despair and fright in a universal language of speechless terror.

The well-off passengers in first class, most of whom were Europeans, felt a mix of shock, disbelief and annoyance as they heard the shots being fired toward the rear of the train and then saw cavalrymen wearing worn-out khaki uniforms, armed with rifles and sabers and most of all, looking at them with a predatory gaze from the sternness of their bronze, hard-featured faces, each man covered with a soft military hat that protected him from the high summer sun.

June and Kate looked at these horsemen through their compartment window with a lot more curiosity and fascination than fear. They had yet to realize that these men were about to board the train and go through every single compartment, especially in first class. Stanley looked at the mounted bandits with great alarm. He pulled out his .45 caliber Colt 1911 pistol and made sure it was loaded.


June grabbed her brother’s pistol-holding wrist…

“Put that gun away, Stanley! There’s no need for that. These men are probably just playing around…” she said, looking deep in his eyes, with intense fear and excitement in her brown eyes, and also feeling a jolt of arousal upon seeing her brother holding the .45 caliber pistol. June was certain these horsemen were just showing off, but oh, they were fearsome and exciting to look at!

Indeed, the gunshots from the back of the train had abated, and not a single cavalryman was to be seen through the compartment’s window. But there were saddled horses that trotted loose here and there, grazing on the open meadows. June observed these horses and noticed they were smaller than horses she had seen in Texas; these horses were more the size of ponies.

June felt amused at the small size of these horses. Real men wouldn’t want to be seen on such ponies. She chuckled, comparing these Mongolian men to American cowboys and Yankee cavalrymen, and she chuckled. These Mongolians were quite amusing! They were little men on little horses.

Katrina was not amused. She stood frozen in front of her elder sister and brother, and she was ghastly pale with terror. June kindly hugged her. She loved having her little sister in her arms; she kissed the top of her hair very tenderly, with perhaps more passion as befitted a sibling.

“Calm down, sweet Kate! These men are just showing off. They’ll be gone soon and we’ll be on our w…”

Many gunshots were fired, this time much closer to their compartment. They heard the shrill scream of a woman that came from somewhere within their own car! What was going on?

Kate began to cry and buried her face into her big sister’s embrace. She was shaking like a leaf! June was no longer amused. Maybe these Mongolian men were not to be underestimated…

Stanley opened the window and peeked out to take a look outside. Close to his left stood two men in beat-up khaki uniforms who pointed rifles at him and yelled something in a language he understood nothing of; only the strange sounds of some consonant-rich song. The men were surprisingly close and right under the next window, with other armed men in similar uniforms that were just below the windows and covering each other. This was why he didn’t see any one of them!

Three windows farther to his left, a man wearing a homburg hat and a black queue-de-pie suit peeked out with a revolver in his hand and was similarly held at rifle point. Whoever led these bandits knew that the strongest resistance would come from the first-class passengers.

The Mongolian bandits were pointing their rifles right at Stanley’s chest while others kept their keen watch on all the other windows. Stanley understood that raising his pistol would mean certain death. He hoped they didn’t see his weapon, but at least one of these yellow-faced devils spotted it as Stanley had raised his hand a bit too high. He cursed, “Dammit!” but it was already too late.

Both men pointed their rifles straight at him and barked an order, ready to shoot. The same order was repeated. “Buugaa-khaya!”

Even though the word wasn’t understood, its meaning was clear to Stanley, who discarded his pistol, cursing at his stupidity and lack of experience. He didn’t cower back into the compartment, lest these men took a shot inside and then, June or Kate could be hit. But if he had his big brother’s experience, he’d know what to do. Johnny had fought over there in France.

A soldier picked up Stanley’s shiny pistol and looked at it with great interest, but another soldier nudged him on the shoulder, gesturing at the passenger car and reminding him to keep a keen eye for any man who would try to resist.

Stanley, looking off to his right, noticed the dropped figure of a fellow passenger with his head sticking out of the open window, looking down and not moving, with one arm hanging limp and lifeless against the wall of the car, only two windows down toward the dining car and the locomotive. The man’s dark suit added to the gloomy sight, but the unmoved clouds kept scudding across the sky over the hilly steppe.

The many bandits formed a regularly spaced line, all aiming their rifles at the first-class car’s windows. They had dismounted and encircled the train. The drivers at the locomotive were no doubt being held at gunpoint. No wonder they were not going anywhere, stopped as they were near the top of a hill with meadows and more hills all around them without the slightest sign of human dwellings. This was a planned and well-organized attack!

One of the bronze-faced devils gestured at Stanley, using signs to tell him to get his head back inside and close that window. His rifle was a compelling argument. Stanley noticed it was nearly all covered with wood, certainly not a Winchester; most probably some Russian make.

Sudden screams were heard from inside the car! More screams! Female screams! Male swearing! Then a gunshot and the loudest, shrillest scream one had ever heard… “Albert! Albert!”

All those clamors! Inside their own car! Stanley locked the compartment door while June and Kate were now wailing in each other’s arms, in complete panic. It dawned on June that these men were actually bandits. Dangerous bandits. The adventure was becoming a bit more than what she had bargained for. Why did she have brought her sweet Kate into this?

From the chaos they heard within the car, locking doors didn’t help much. The screams, the swearing and the barked orders went on, progressing from door to door and getting closer to the Americans’ compartment. Gunshots and distinct sounds of broken wood told the terrified Yankee siblings that they were beating down doors after shooting its lock.

Amid all the brouhaha, Stanley distinctly heard some high-pitched screams and pleading words in Russian. He fancied to think these screams belonged to Alexandra, and his heart sank as he realized what a coward he had been to surrender his gun without a fight, but what difference would it have made? The end result would have been the same, except one or two bandits would have been shot and he himself would have been down and probably dead or dying. He selfishly preferred the current situation, which didn’t exactly cheer to him.

The loud yelling and shrill screams of panic got ever closer. Stanley and his sisters knew all too well that Mongol bandits would soon beat down their door and overrun their compartment to rob them. Stanley felt a weird and shameful sense of arousal as he looked at Kate’s virgin features and the priceless grace of her raven hair, reflected by her black-dressed figure, so slim and delicate…

He fought hard not to think that these men would perhaps take something far more valuable than money and jewels. He mustn’t think of that!

His sense of failure and powerlessness was unbearable as June and Kate kept bawling together and holding each other, with the booklet of June’s diary open and waiting for her to write her next entry, lying on the forest-green bench as if nothing had happened.

June and Kate filled the compartment with a deafening shriek as the door was suddenly banged. Stanley opened — why would he not? They would just beat down the door and then, they’d be pissed — and a tall man in uniform materialized with his dark-bronze brigand’s face, complete with a black moustache that didn’t belong to the civilized world.

He was bigger than life, filling the entire door frame with his herculean figure and scanning the compartment with a pair of predatory eyes, grinning as he spotted the screaming, bawling girls. The fierce light in his cruel eyes wasn’t lost on the young Yankee.

He shoved Stanley aside. Two men followed him inside the compartment, and one immediately gestured at Stanley to face the wall as he pointed a knife at him. He proceeded to frisk him for hidden weapons, taking his wallet and emptying it from all the banknotes it contained. Rubles were worth something in these parts. Stanley felt terrified and ashamed to turn out such a coward.

June and Kate shrieked even shriller and louder as the men’s savage musk filled their delicate nostrils, and they directly pushed the girls around, pinning them face-first against the wall and frisk-searching them for valuables…

The Mongol bandits were towering above Kate and June, who realized they were no little men to make fun of. Each man was about Stanley’s height. One was even taller.

“Please. Please. Let us go! Let go of my sister and I’ll be nice to you!” June offered with her panicky voice, feeling a tinge of excitement under her terror as she thought of herself bargaining her virtue to save Kate’s.

What would it feel like to copulate with such a savage man? She pondered that question for the first time in her life. It was so preposterous! Unacceptable! But Kate came first.

These men didn’t understand her New Yorker English. In all her excitement, she had forgotten to use her basic Russian. They kept frisk-searching June and Kate, and they started to laugh and make all sorts of comments as they began to grope their hips, their thighs and their butts. They turned them back around to have a look at their pretty faces and started to grope their bosom as well.

“Nooo! Please! Don’t! Don’t! No, stop this… Stop this I beg you…” little Kate blurted out in absolute shock and panick, her cheeks blushed, feeling a man’s hand upon her and in such a direct, gross manner for the very first time in her young life. She tried to protest further, but no intelligible sound would come out of her panic-chocked windpipe. She just panted, her racing mind unable to process the flow of new sensations as her small breasts were pressed under these savage hands, thankfully only through her clothes.

“Please! Take our money and leave!” June bellowed to deaf ears. The men kept laughing and groping the Yankee girls, moving them around again, groping their butts. They uttered more comments in what must have been a series of words belonging to a lewd register as they kept laughing and grinning while Kate couldn’t stop shrieking as she felt a pair of hands defiling her slim derriere through the black fabric of her chic dress from Manhattan.

Stanley was held at knife point and frozen in fear, and watching that odious pair of Mongolian hands on Kate’s pristine curves. He was hard as a horse under his pants. He had always had an immoral crush on Kate, which had been tampered a few hours before when he saw Alexandra, but he felt the shameful hard-on pushing the front of his trousers and he just couldn’t help it.

The men eventually spotted the girls’ purses and emptied them of all their contents. Amid all the whatnots spread on the green cushioned bench seat, they found and took the wallets and a fancy comb belonging to Kate. Stanley felt these men looked like grotesque intruders with their dusty, worn-out uniforms forming a striking contrast against the rich woodwork.

The herculean man, obviously the leader, was all over June, cupping her boobs from behind, as he kept exploring her shapes through the fancy white blouse she wore over a black skirt. The man was growing more interested in her body and less in her money and valuables, although he did notice a diamond ring on her left hand. It was a beautiful ring that used to belong to her grandmother; she was wearing it to look like a married woman and discourage unwanted male attention.

June began to frantically sob as she realized the robber’s intention. He easily overpowered her and had her screaming in pain as he brutally caught her wavering wrist, stretched her hand open and pulled the precious ring from its tight nesting place, uncaring of the pain he was causing her.

In the meantime, Stanley had finally tried to defend Kate, but he found himself with a knife pressed at his throat, and he could only look as a rat-faced bandit, grinning, was freely running his hands all over Kate’s charms. He was no longer looking for money; he was after the treasures that lay hidden under Kate’s all-black outfit.

The compartment was filled with Kate’s pitiful shrieks of fright, again and again as the grinning man kept groping her, presently pinning her back against the wooden wall and cupping her breasts and forcing a kiss out of her.

As the bandit forced-kissed her while boldly cupping her breasts as if he were appraising her like a piece of meat, Kate froze into shocked silence, unable to wrap her blossoming mind around what was happening. She was used to be in control with boys, having many suitors who all competed for the slightest sign of attention from her.

Kate had only dated some of the school’s popular lads and never allowed a date to take such liberties with her. She had always been firm on not doing anything really intimate until her wedding night. And now, that animal! Kissing her and almost crushing her poor little breasts inside his fists. The worst part of it was the heat she felt between her legs as that man imprisoned her mouth inside his clammy lips while overpowering her senses with his unstoppable musk.

Was he going to rape her right here against that wall? The heat between her legs grew more intense than she had ever felt before. She tried to shriek in terror and self-hatred. How could she feel this way with such a savage?

Stanley saw the unthinkable kiss between a Mongolian man from nowhere and his sweet little sister, a fancy New York girl fresh out of high school; he noticed the man’s hands pressed hard and flattening the knolls of her boobs, looking like hands of baked earth on her black dress top… It was strangely, terrifyingly erotic. He was deeply embarrased by that wild hard-on that pushed stiff against the front of his suit trousers. His body had no morals, and his eyes were unable to look elsewhere.

Then, the herculean man stopped fondling with June and barked an order. Stanley was hit hard on the head and had but a vague recollection of what happened next.

It suddenly dawned upon him that his arms were now painfully stretched behind his back, and his wrists were even more painfully fastened together while he was being escorted along the car’s hallway and to the exit, where the high sun blinded him.

Once outside, Stanley saw he was one of some twenty-odd prisoners, nearly all of them Europeans and all of them dressed in a dapper style indicating or suggesting wealth. In a strange show of courtesy, the bandits all made sure each prisoner, man or woman, was wearing a hat.

June and Kate were similarly escorted outside the train, but they had their hands tied up in front of them in a more comfortable posture. Kate’s pricey little dark gloves looked grotesquely fancy and out of place as she took her first steps on the Mongolian steppe, wearing shoes that were clearly not fit for a hike in the wilderness. June was walking right alongside her, wearing contrasting white gloves and equally inept shoes.

Stanley took note of that strange courtesy. Mongolians had some sense of honor. They were going easier on the women, but they were taking some pretty ones along with them. This was concerning and horrific to Stanley as he began to understand why these bandits were bringing women, and that vile “why” carried a lot of unspoken weight.

His prick was just as hard and stiff as before in the compartment, forming a clear bulge that he couldn’t hide since his hands were tied behind him as he walked among the shepherded prisoners.

June and Kate both gazed at him, and he looked down in shame and tried to turn away, but the escorting bandit wouldn’t allow this. He slapped the back of his head and told him something in his guttural tongue of the steppe. The man nonetheless picked up Stanley’s round straw hat, which had fallen off when the slap connected, and he put it back on its owner’s head.

The victorious bandits were gathering their prisoners like sheep, with the stopped locomotive looming on the horizon like a black dragon of steel, now asleep with no more smoke coming out of its snout. Near the large locomotive, one of the drivers lay motionless on the grass while the other one stood with his hands up, kept at bay by a lone bandit, who was also watching a couple of African porters, wearing dark uniforms that were now meaningless in that vast wilderness.

The tracks had been loosened some ten or twenty yards away, but for some unknown reason, the train stopped just before meeting an unavoidable derailment.

Stanley noticed that. He also noticed that the bandits had only gone into the trouble to keep first-class passengers. There were a few prisoners from the second and third classes, maybe half a dozen, perhaps a bit more, but these prisoners were all short and of a delicate figure, and then the realization hit Stanley—Women! Girls! The bandits were bringing along some Chinese girls, no doubt after selecting them for their youth and beauty. This sight led him to hope his sisters would avoid the worst.

Stanley knew what these men were going to do with these Chinese girls at the first opportunity. Their fate was sealed. He didn’t have the courage to pronounce the word in his mind, and kept his head cast down, staring at the East-Mongolian grass and unable to look at his sisters in the face.

He madly hoped he was mistaken about their probable fate, hoping the bandits would behave like gentlemen and only take their pleasure with Chinese girls. In all adventure novels he had read as a boy, the worst only happened to colored women. The white women always remained unscathed, no matter what the risks or the odds were.

Stanley took a closer look at these Chinese girls, all of them wearing long dresses of a sober, dark colors, except for a couple of girls who had very long hair and wore a bright blue or jade-green dress, the hem of which covered their entire legs right down to their feet. Each one looked elegant in a way that looked wonderfully exotic to the Yankee boy. What struck him the most was their age; none looked any older than Kate. The bandits had given themselves some lovely concubines, and his wild lust shamed himself as he suddenly came to the realization that an evil part of him was looking forward to witnessing what was going to happen to these poor girls, who all cried as they stood under the sun. They knew too.

These short girls with exquisite features, pale almond skin and long sleek hair were in small number, and there were a great many bandits. Too many! Stanley didn’t want to think about what that small supply of Oriental girls meant for his sisters, and kept hoping only the Chinese girls would pay the dearest price. His erection remained raging as he couldn’t keep his mind from thinking of the unthinkable. He felt so incredibly guilty!

Alexandra also strolled with her face down as she was escorted with her dainty hands tied up in front of her. She was walking nobly on the grass, refusing to let her predicament mar the majesty of her person.

She was cousins with the late Romanov grand-duchesses; a secret his father had paid dearly to keep. She had herself paid with her own person, sleeping one night with a swine-face Soviet General, and going back home next morning as if nothing had happened. Luckily, the General had kept his word and looked the other way as they fled to Moscow, and she did not get pregnant. God seemed to like her, up to that point.

Nadejda clung to her father, who kept barking at Anna as she kept frantically wailing and sobbing. Yuri couldn’t bear to see any of his daughters breaking down. Nadejda was on the verge of tears, but the brave girl kept her composure.

“Anna! You are the daughter of a Prince of Russia. Behave yourself!” he hollered at his austere-clad daughter while Shvibzik, the Merry Little One, clung to him with silent tears rolling down her peachy face, putting in her best effort in staying strong.

As always, Nadejda was doing her utmost to please Him, her Father, the Man she loved. She was secretly hoping he had enjoyed to watch her when she got frisk-searched by a Mongolian bandit who clearly took liberties with her little body and went as far as kissing her neck while pressing her crotch through her simple white dress.

Yuri was proud of the way Alexandra and Shvibzik remained relatively calm and seemingly unmoved when these animals frisk-searched them in such a revolting way, but Anna… She had bawled and wailed like the daughter of a commoner!

Anna deserved to be sold to these men for the night so her two stronger sisters would keep their honor! Yuri wasn’t stupid, but things were perhaps not as bad as they looked. Yuri had a lot of money stashed away, and if he gave enough money, they would hopefully free him and his daughters.

Once the prisoners were all gathered, each man or woman was tied to a horseman’s steed and ordered to walk as fast as the horse’s gentle steps. Each prisoner was also assigned to a second horseman who would ride right behind him/her with a lance pointed at his/her back to keep the said prisoner from getting any ideas of slowing down or stopping or trying to escape. Whereto?

Stanley had a hard time figuring out the exact numbers of these bandits whose hard-featured faces looked like masks of baked earth with hair as black as Hell’s boiling pitch. They all looked at them with a poker face with rare exceptions. If anyone of them grinned, he was looking at a female prisoner.

They must have been at least a company of one hundred.

The sun was high and Stanley began to sweat as he walked behind the horseman to whom he was tied. At least, they had allowed him to keep his hat. The man riding behind him urged him on with his unintelligible words. He heard Kate complaining as she walked under the sun, also wearing a hat as she already said her feet were hurting. Poor little Kate! She was a stranger to any hardship.

June walked on quietly, roped at that same tall officer who had groped her earlier. He kept turning back now and then, grinning from his sun-baked face with slits of shadow for eyes as he looked at her, a figure from the roaring twenties wearing a wide-brimmed hat of white felt under the bright sun as she stoically walked on as fast as her half-heel shoes would allow her to.


The summer sun was hot and getting hotter as it reached its zenith. Bilguun the Fearless happily rode at a gentle pace to accommodate the stride of his lovely prisoner. He knew full well that the day would be hard on the captives, but he made sure the hardships wouldn’t reach a dangerous extent. This was why he had ordered his men to allow hats for all prisoners, so the sun wouldn’t burn their faces.

Walking out in the heat on the vast steppe was hard enough as it was. June and especially Kate were learning this the hard way as their comfortable first-class compartment quickly became a distant memory.

Kate was already getting blisters after only an hour of walking, and she kicked off her shoes, finding it better to walk barefoot on the tender grass. The horseman following her loved her petite, walking figure and her little girly feet offered him pale beacons against the green grass. He would be more than happy to attend to those sore feet later that night, but… Would the Captain allow him to touch her? The barefoot maid in her fancy black dress, black hat and black gloves suddenly felt magically out of his reach.

Captain Bilguun often looked behind him, beyond the rump of his brown-and-white horse, to look at his own prisoner, a raven-haired beauty whose slender body was sweating under her wide-brimmed hat as she kept walking on and telling another girl – probably her sister from the likeness in their features – to hang on and be strong.

Bilguun was the only one in his company who understood some English, and this was only because he had learned German during his time of fighting in Poland.

He was very happy with the way the attack had gone. He didn’t lose a single man, and only two of the wealthy passengers had been killed. Things always went smoother with the help of an inside confederate.

The old guardsman had pulled out his gun at the locomotive drivers and ordered them to stop. There had been a little shooting at the back of the train, but the guards were quickly overwhelmed and half of them were shot like dogs before the others surrendered. One bandit had got a bullet in his forearm, and that was all for the butcher’s bill.

They had quickly gone through the second-class section, taking some money and a watch, a ring, an earring or a brooch here and there. They did not forget to choose a handful of Chinese daughters or newly wed wives to bring along with them as it was always nice to have girls at night by the campfire.

The real prize was the first-class car, toward the front of the train. There, they had gone through each compartment and taken all the money, jewels and other valuables they could get their hands on. Everything had gone smoothly.

And then the white women! Many of them were young and beautiful. A lot more than expected, but Bilguun wasn’t surprised as he had been tipped off by the old guardsman. They had found a real treasure trove and taken a lot more hostages than they had originally planned. And now, some fine shoes of Italian leather were threading on East-Mongolian grass. A young Italian nun was walking on in sandals, toiling under her white robes under the sun, roped to a horse. All the white women had to endure this indignity.

Bilguun had taken eleven white girls and two Chinese girls from Peking among his wealthy hostages.

His lieutenant Oolguun had told him these Han girls also spoke Korean, although they were from a well-known noble family that was distantly related to the Imperial family of China, and their names were Fade and Jan. Two sisters, each dressed in a long dark indigo dress with golden dragons embroidered on their bosoms; both looking like princesses with their long black hair and bright pale complexion.

Oolgun had caught them. Bilguun decided that these two Chinese sisters that had some Imperial blood would be the very first to get thrown at his men. Bilguun was eager to reach the site for his overnight camp, where he’d get to see the expression on the white women’s faces as they’d be forced to watch the Chinese girls get brutally gang-raped.

Bilguun spurred his horse a bit, forcing June to jog behind him and swear, using a Yankee vocabulary he understood nothing of.

He now rode next to his lieutenant, a rather tall man who nonetheless looked small next to his herculean Captain, who rode on a low and sturdy horse that made him look grotesquely large and tall.

“How old do you think this one is?” he asked Oolgun, pointing at Fade who stoically, silently walked behind Oolgun’s horse.

Fade was tied to the horse with her two wrists together in front of her as she kept toiling under the bright sun, her satin-black hair of exquisite lights highlighting the pale richness of her complexion and the perfect softness of her youthful features. She was looking down at the grass, a very noble sight indeed as she walked on, protected by a wine-red hat that matched the linings of her dark-blue gown.

“How old? Hmmm… Hard to tell. She can’t be twenty, but she’s no longer a child, but why does it matter?”

“That was also my guess. And the other one is her sister?” Bilguun said, looking at Jan, who was wearing a nearly identical outfit, except for her hat, which was of a beautiful golden brown matching the linings bordering her rich dress of silk.

Oolguun nodded.

“And their father is a high official in Peking?”

Oolguun nodded again.

“Good! I think we’ll fetch a very good ransom for those two. When we get to our base camp in two days, he’ll have to watch his daughters working as sex slaves until he gives in and accept our terms. We need gold, rifles and ammunition.”

“Food too! With some pussy on the side! I always love the expression of deep, heart-breaking humiliation in a Chinese girl’s face when she gets gang-raped by Mongolian men! It’s always priceless. But what about the white women? Aren’t we going to get some piece of them too?”

“I haven’t made my mind about it yet. Those rich white pigs tend to pay more when we keep their daughters intact.”

“That’s a pity!” Oolguun complained. “The men will be upset. Aren’t you afraid they will mutiny if you deny them those white women?”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take. I tell you, the white men will do anything to keep their daughters unscathed and inviolate. I know how they are. But look at these lovely Chinese sluts! Are the men going to complain when they get such prime meat for booty?”

On that, Bilguun, proudly wearing his khaki uniform with his old Russian shoulder pads adorned with the long red stripe and the four tiny stars of a Captain, took a small canteen from his saddle and offered some arkhi to his lieutenant, before taking a couple of sips for himself.

Both men grinned as they rode on. It would be a while until the authorities got wind of the attack and longer still to bring some forces in. They’d be far by that time and safe on the Chinese side of the border. It was perfectly safe to have fires at the camp. Cossacks cavalry rode fast, but they weren’t demons who could fly in the sky. As for the local men, they were too afraid of the bandits to be of much help to any pursuing force; any man who helped or caused trouble was certain to have his house ransacked and his wife and/or daughters gang-raped in front of him. The train was still immobilized due to the dismantled rails in front of the locomotive, and the only driver who had survived had gone missing. It wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. The passengers would soon eat out the food stores in the diner car; they’ll be starving and dangerous to each other by the time rescues arrived.

But they had to ride on. Bilguun would allow his men to kill the first man who would try to escape or to delay them, in order to strike terror in the hearts of the surviving hostages.

The weather was perfect. It was a gorgeous summer day, and it looked like they’d reach the first campsite on schedule; they’d reach that pond and the emerald-green pastures surrounding it well before nightfall.


June’s Diary (her thoughts committed to her memory)

This is appalling! My captor, who is so tall and large that he makes his horse looks like a little pony under him, gave me some strong alcohol called arkhi when we made a short halt under that scorching sun. He smiled as I accepted it and I understood instantly this was a mistake. It nonetheless fortified me.

That alcohol was strong, and it gave me courage for the humiliation that lay ahead. Most of us prisoners needed to relieve our bladder. Thankfully, all of us are in such a state of shock that our bowels are tight shut, in survival mode so to speak, but peeing while being looked at by these awful men—animals, really—was humiliating beyond words.

They carefully escorted us away from the horses, to a patch of rich grass, where we were made to understand through signs that we were to relieve ourselves there.

The men and women were separated of course. One of these three Russian daughters I met this morning in the dining car, Alexandra I think, started shouting loud at a guard, in anger, as he was taking some liberties on her person.

My own captor—I know now that he’s the Captain of the whole troop—barked at him and even struck him hard enough for him to fall down. He then spoke harshly to all his men. He was no doubt telling them we, women, are not to be touched.

I wonder at the cause of that change. That same Captain, with his wide face, large black moustache and hard features, did kiss and grope me when I and my poor little Kate fell in their hands. I shudder just to think of the horrible things he did to my person, and only through my clothes! Kate was also subjected to such depraved treatment! I dare not imagine anything worse…

But I have hope. He probably felt guilty of doing what he did and through some sort of primitive morals, he realized he had done something wrong. Maybe he’s human after all. He most certainly intends to bargain us for ransom, and it must be in his interest to see that we are treated with respect and dignity. I really hope so for Kate’s sake. She comes first!

My biggest insurance comes in the silk dresses I discern in the other group of women not far away—the Chinese girls, all of them young and beautiful. I’ve seen them as they formed two circles in order to squat down and pee with relative intimacy—the girls in the outer circle stand, forming a dress-wearing human wall and shielding the girls in the inner circle squatting and doing what nature compels them to. Then, the girls switch circles.

We white girls took their example at heart and formed such outer and inner circles. I made sure I was holding Kate’s hand all the time as she was terrified and wouldn’t stop bawling. She’s so young and delicate! I shouldn’t have taken her along with me; she belongs to a tea salon in New York, not to the Siberian steppe where the wind sometimes carries whiffs of piss or even rotten odors from some carrion. As I pee, I see vultures in the sky. I was looking for a good omen.

These Chinese girls were brought along for one purpose by these men, and as I looked at the rich Peking daughters, whom I had spoken with last night, I knew their fate was sealed. Poor Fade and Jan!

They are such sweet girls, just about Kate’s age or maybe a bit younger. They are just as well educated and well-read as us. But their being Chinese will make all the difference. There’s a cut-off wall of decency between us and them… I cry as I anticipate what will happen tonight—Fade and Jan will be defiled by the bandits along with all the other Chinese girls. We will hear their wails, their screams, their whimpers, and we will be powerless to stop the tragedy. This is inevitable.

This is so horrifying! And we will have to watch and hear all of it. Horrifying! I must write that book and get it published. At least, we will be spared from the worst.

But I hope this unfortunate situation will be resolved. My family is rich, and I know father will give up a large sum of money to see us back home safely, but how long this is going to take?

From the way my captor has been looking at me as he rides his ridiculously small horse, I know for sure that he’ll soon propose to me. He looks to me like a man with enough sense of honor to properly marry me before taking me with him inside his tent. But there’s no way I’m marrying such a savage! Who does he think he is?! I could just as well go to the zoo and marry a gorilla! But I need to buy time for myself and Kate, feign an illness or something.

That sun is unforgiving! I’m so numb now that I even forget how humiliating it is to be tied to a barbarian’s horse and forced to walk on behind him like some Roman noblewoman after the sack of Rome in 410 A.D. My hat is saving my life! My snow-pale complexion is my pride, but here, under that sun with these vultures circling around us, this would be my death.

One of the European men tried to fight back against his captor. I recognized him. He’s a Belgian jeweler by the family name of Deleu. The horseman behind Mr. Deleu charged forward and skewered him with his spear as the unfortunate man was striking at the horseman in front of him, only hitting the man’s thighs, before he screamed in shock and agony when that wicked spear was sunk deep in his back.

I saw the blood and it was awful! Kate didn’t see much, thankfully, but I heard the Russian twin daughters scream in a loud series of shrill sounds of horror that chilled my spine.

Mr. Deleu’s young wife screamed, “Oh, mon Dieu ! Gilbert ! Gilbert !” in French as she saw him fall, and she frantically pulled at her own rope, trying in vain to drag her horse and captor as she attempted to run and reach her fallen husband to kneel at his side as any good wife will do in such a grim tragedy.

But the cruel horseman stepped down of his steed and punched her square and hard, making her fall with the sun playing wonderful lights in the tragic cascade of her golden hair.

The savage Mongolian then proceeded to tie her ankles together with some more rope he was given. He jeered and laughed at her the whole time he worked the knots with prodigious dexterity that made me pause and think about what the modern man had lost in primitive skill. Only a hundred years ago, we had large sail boats where our own sailors were just as dexterous in knots.

Once the young wife’s lower legs were tightly wrapped in one piece, the heathen demon attached the rope to his saddle, and as he mounted his pony-size horse again, he spurred the steed forward, and we all heard the pitiful cries of her dying husband, “Adèle! Adèle!” as she was dragged face up and feet first on the long grass, at the speed of a trot, with her long beige dress giving some grotesque majesty to the scene, soon broken by the grotesque erotic show of her white legs as the dragging movement brought her dress all the way up to the point her underwear—the hem of a petticoat—was coming dangerously close to exposing her genitals.

Fortunately, my captor, the Captain of that horde of yellow-faced scoundrels, gave a loud order, and the horseman immediately slowed down his horse to a very gentle gait. He also ordered the scoundrel to bring the unfortunate wife back on her feet. He was clearly doing their best to spare us white women, and he had firm control over his men, which brought me some hope.

One of the prisoners has had some medical training before becoming a clergyman. He’s from England, answers by the name of Victor and he was travelling with a daughter by the name of Maude, an exquisitely good-looking girl about Kate’s age.

The dapper clergyman was untied and allowed to attend by the Belgian jeweler, who soon died, as the wound was a lethal one.

Victor entered in a state of mad rage as the Captain said we would go on without burying the dead man.

“The vultures eat him verden! His zeele is up in the sky.”

Such was his reply to the enraged Anglican priest, in a broken English that we all understood in spite of his use of the German word for “soul” and his German phrasing.

But the priest broke into a fit of rage, which looked all the more impressive against his usual calm and the dignified style of his bowtie and queue-de-pie, complete with a bowler hat of first-rate felt. He ran at the nearest horseman and tried to take his rifle away! I could tell he has fighting experience.

“Father!” his daughter Maude cried out, but she was immediately reigned in by her grinning captor who pulled hard at her rope and caused her to lose her balance, while her father was quickly surrounded by a small group of bandits who promptly surrounded him and beat him down into a state of silent submission using the butt of their Russian rifles. The Captain stopped them and probably saved the poor soul’s life.

The Captain then ordered men to tightly wrap ropes around his legs and arms, making him look like a living mummy, grotesquely dignified in his dark suit, as they attached his ankles to a man’s saddle. He was going to be dragged on his back like that Belgian wife by the name of Adèle, now a widow.

We were all made fully obedient from that point on. We marched on, frightened, suffering under the sun for the better part of the afternoon until we reached the welcome sight of a large pond where wild ducks bathed in clear waters that mirrored the deep blue sky. I spotted some males with their teal heads.

This sight brought tears to my eyes, as I remembered those carefree days of my childhood, on those sunny days of smiling oaks, cheerful beeches, green lawns and gabled houses overlooking white fences, when I took my little Kate—so little back then—and we would go at the park to watch the ducks and the swans too.

What’s going to become of us now?


“I have English pounds in a Swiss account!” Yuri told Captain Bilguun.

This was true. In 1918, when it was clear that the Soviets would stay in power and would only be dislodged at the cost of a long and bloody war, Yuri had converted all of his rubles into English currency and gold bullions, which he had stashed away through a secret, Tsarist-controlled network.

This was a few years before, back when there was still hope of regaining Russia for the fallen aristocracy, before his cousin the Czar was murdered along with his wife and their four wonderful daughters. Poor Olga! He would never forget the intimacy they secretly shared, so long ago already. No doubt the Soviet guards, all of them former serfs and greased-faced proletarians, must have terrified the poor girls, who were better off dead. Killing royalty… What an abomination!

Yuri had remained in hiding through living in nondescript poverty, thanks to his peculiar knowledge of practical street survival and some dubious trade. He had been a prizefighter in his early youth, earning money through his fists for a brief period, before his noble father uncovered the truth and put a stop to such a young man’s madness. Yet he had learned some precious streetwise knowledge that would later save him and his daughters from nobility’s common slaughter and defilement at the hands of these bloodthirsty Bolsheviks, who were brigands under the guise of government.

He had had opportunities for escape, but he had felt the odds were against him and his family, and he wanted to be sure, for being caught meant absolute horror for his daughters. Then, the Soviets found him. His wife and his son Mikhail were taken and no doubt tortured before being murdered.

Yuri and his daughters narrowly escaped to Moscow, at the cost of Alexandra’s honor. Now, at last, as the civil war was over and lost, he had found a means of escape through the East, via the Trans-Siberian Express to China, which he boldly boarded in first class as a wealthy man having important business in Peking—Bolsheviks always looked for hiding aristocrats in second and third classes, and by 1923, these survivors in hiding were becoming few. From China, he would sail all the way back to Europe, where a fortune and a return to his aristocratic way of life awaited him. He planned on some simple mansion in Switzerland. Nothing lavish. Only a dignified freedom and peace. At last. He was so close!

Then, fate had struck again in the form of horse-riding Mongolians. That Captain presently riding above him on the vast steppe looked like a man who could be bought for reasonable terms. The initial offer for their freedom was 5,000 English pounds.

Yuri had hoped to settle the deal for 10,000 pounds, a fabulous sum of money in these God-forsaken parts, but the Mongolian Captain had a perfect command of the Russian language and proved shrewder than anticipated.

With a poker face, the horse-riding Captain made a far costlier offer—Yuri was asked for 15,000 pounds and the hand of one of his daughters.

Yuri was white with rage, but remained calm. How dare he! He offered 25,000 pounds for their freedom, for himself and all his daughters.

The shrewd Captain made a final offer—35,000 pounds for the freedom of all of them plus the guarantee that no harm would come to his daughters. Yuri immediately accepted. This was a third of his wealth, but the relief he felt was priceless. His dear daughters always came first.


Captain Bilguun smiled a mile wide as he saw the pond, its tranquil surface of a delicate blue and silver.

Now, at last! Now… He and his men were going to rest and celebrate their successful hunt at the expense of these privileged pigs who thought they owned the world.

He was so hungry! The cooks were already fetching the barley flour and the yak butter from the carrying horses to prepare the tzamba, a porridge made from roasted flour mixed with buttered tea.

His lieutenant Oolguun was barking orders and the bandits were now pitching the tents, herding the prisoners and setting the camp with their usual efficiency.

A few ducks were hunted, killed by scary-accurate marksmen—as an additional warning against any escape attempt—and the feathers were plucked off the game birds. Captain Bilguun announced that duck meat would be a privilege for the female prisoners, only for Chinese, he said aloud, enjoying the sense of humiliation on the faces of his white prisoners. A priceless moment!

That privilege would come with a heavy cost for the unfortunate Chinese girls, most of whom began to sob and hug each other as they knew all too well that their inevitable fate was close at hand.

Fade and Jan were crying in each other’s arms.

Fade madly hoped for some Russian cavalry to show up and come to their rescue, but even if such a company of Cossacks did materialize, those white cavalrymen would charge and defeat the Mongolians, but they would rescue the white hostages, and gang-rape all Chinese girls as war booty. The only difference would be the color of their skin. Fair was only fair for the privileged.

Jan thought of her comfortable home in Peking’s diplomatic neighborhood. She was going to be gang-raped! Defiled by Merkits!

The Merkits were lowly men compared to the Han Chinese. The prospect of being raped by a single Merkit felt a even more degrading to Jan than the same treatment from several white men on her, even if those white men were vile and dirty. The only rapists more degrading than Merkits would be African men or Aboriginals from New Guinea. Merkits were on a par with Indonesians and Indian men. They were scum!

With growing alarm, Fade and Jan observed the life settling down in the swiftly set camp while the sun was still some height above the horizon. Large fires were made in dug holes under the late-afternoon sky. The ducks were put on rods and made to slowly roast over expertly adjusted fires. Meat jerky was pulled out of pouches and eaten by men who kept eying their lovely prisoners in a way that did not bode well for the latter.

The prisoners were all given tzamba to eat along with strong tea. Some of the women were even offered arkhi, but Jan and Fade proudly refused to eat anything, no matter how hungry they were, and they certainly wouldn’t accept any drink from Merkits!

Jan felt their vile gazes that polluted her person. The golden dragons embroidered on her dark indigo dress must be so offended! Why didn’t they take life, fly out of her and fight off that rabble? She was indeed wearing her favorite silk dress with linings that matched her golden-bronze hat. To her, it felt like those filthy Merkits could see right through her garments! Were they really going to take her dress off?! She couldn’t imagine that! She felt already dead and trembled.

After quickly eating some tzamba and beef jerky, the Merkit bandits began to drink arkhi. This was the beginning of the end.

They gathered in a fast-growing circle around the Chinese girls, many of whom started to wail and shriek at the top of their voice while others remained petrified in terrified silence, shedding quiet tears as they stood on the threshold of the worst fate that could befall a Han girl. They had nowhere to run. Two girls tried to escape, running like hedless hens while the others understood that this wouldn’t help them. The running girls ran directly in the men’s arms, and the orgy began.

Fade felt that way as she was being stared at and appraised like a piece of meat at the market. No decent man would want to touch her once it would be known that she had been a prisoner of Merkit bandits. She’d be better off dead!

Jan felt the same way, but she had no more time to ponder about her predicament. She screamed Fade’s name as she was snatched away from her arms by a sordid circle of earth-yellow faces, all of them displaying the grinning vileness of the Merkits—square jaws, wide faces, hard features with prominent cheekbones and narrow-cruel eyes. In short, their features were harder and darker than the softer-faced Hans. They were absolute scum!

Jan yelled and cursed at these men, who jeered at her and spat on her face. Her golden hat was taken away and they all began to catcall her as the raven silk of her long hair cascaded down for their gross entertainment. Her naked hair was now defiled by their filthy gazes. The slightest of its threads was too good for them.

Something broke for ever inside Jan as hands cupped her tits through her silk dress, and she screamed as if they were reaching inside her chest and pulling out her beating heart! Why did her golden dragons remain silent? Why didn’t they protect her? Why? Why? Why? Merkit hands on her boobs. So horrible! Why was she still breathing?

She heard Fade’s screams of distress and spat at the face of one of those wide-faced bandits, and the Merkit just laughed at her and helped the others in restraining her while her silk dress was assaulted by their dirty hands.

A loud, shrill scream exploded out of her as Jan realized they were lifting her dress and tucking the rich silk up her legs while removing her shoes. The only relief she felt was for her feet—they were hurting her after that long day of walking through the steppe.

But that relief was short-lived, as she felt countless hands touching and defiling her pale skin, all the way from her ankles to her upper thighs. They were all catcalling her and making all sorts of lewd sounds as they uncovered the nakedness of her legs.

Then, her dark dress was covering her face and the screaming Han girl felt her underwear shorts being ripped away along with her breast binders. They were pulling hard at her arms, removing her dress with urgent rage as she felt the Mongolian breeze directly on her skin as it hit her exposed cunt and the entire pack of Merkits hollered jeers of celebration as they beheld the forbidden silk of her cunt hair, that secret vee that could only be seen by a proper Han husband.

Jan was free. A free whore stripped of all dignity.

“Bù! Bù kěyǐ! Bù kěyǐ!” she screamed, as if they were going to stop just because she said no. They understood what “Bù kěyǐ!” meant and told her that yes, “kěyǐ!” they had the right to do this to her, and they just laughed louder and called her a dirty little tramp, in Merkit or Mandarin, as they ran their hands all over her suddenly naked body, cupping and pressing her pale breasts, and hurting her with agressive fingers inside her pussy as they drowned her in their filthy musk, shaming her for life.

“Bùuu-uuuuhh… Bù kěyǐ! Bù kěyǐ! Bù kěyǐ!” screamed other Chinese girls as they were similarly stripped naked and induced to their new life of sex slaves whose sole existence would from now on be devoted to the entertainment of Merkits.

Chinese girls screamed their loud protests in complete panic as the bandits proceeded to uncover their out-of-bounds charms and feasted upon every inch of their almond-pale skin and flesh, unable to believe their good fortune at the sight of such splendor as they urgently peeled up their dresses all the way off their faces and finally passed their arms, in a glorious confusion of loosened silk while most of these Han daughters kept screaming and clenching their little fists as they were being so shamefully humiliated by the grinning Merkits.

The youngest one remained silent, completely petrified and shocked with unknown terror and sensations as she suddenly found herself naked with her virgin titties amid the press of these animals. Her legs and feet caused some men around her to grow maddening erections that demanded an immediate relief. This little tramp from Beijing was going to be an amazing fuck. They were all going to deflower her! Their collective madness took a gross life of its own, making them less than human.

Captain Bilguun had ordered that all Chinese girls be stripped completely naked, so their modesty would be defiled for all to see. He knew how incredibly humiliating this must be to these girls, and how terrifying—and perhaps secretly arousing—the scene must be to his European “guests”.

Jan’s and Fade’s father screamed and struggled against his bindings, struck by a fit of raving madness as he saw his daughters being stripped naked by the vile dogs. He tried to break his ties and nearly succeeded, for he was a stout man with great strength, but the rifle butts spoke to his skull, and the dishonored father was soon pummeled down and brought back to more reasonable dispositions.

June hugged Kate close to her heart as she witnessed the harrowing scene. Nearby, Nadejda buried her face against her father’s chest; she was sobbing in terror and wouldn’t take one look at the unthinkable scene, but she heard these poor girls as they screamed and squealed to no avail, while the bandits laughed and jeered at them. Alexandra and Anna held each other and felt the utmost pity for these Chinese girls who were sacrificed like sheep on the altar of men’s lust. Adèle, the recent widow, was watching the scene with her jaw dropped, unable to stir or make a sound. Maude, the clergyman’s daughter, remained silent and kept looking down at the grass, unable to un-see or un-heard the raping of these girls who were the same age as her, but they were Chinese while she was British.

Stanley had a shameful erection as he recognized Jan and Fade, and was suddenly seeing them in the nude in the hands of these devils of the Pit. He would never admit it, not even to himself, that he was wishing he were one of these bandits and could partake. The 22-year-old lad was too young to realize that nearly all men present secretely felt that way at least to some extent. A few of them even looked at the white girls with something uncivilized in their gaze. This wasn’t a good place to be for any girl. Yet most men felt ready to die to protect their loved ones.

Stanley would never forget the bandits’ expression of animalistic lust as Jan and her juicy breasts were in full display, freely moving and so pale against her dark-brown nipples as they were forcing her legs apart and restraining all her limbs, keeping her noble nakedness in a slanting position amid their sordid circle while the first man presently took his place between her legs and unceremoniously lowered his uniform pants to begin the real feast. One moment later, he was inside the unfortunate girl and taking his pleasure while her shriek of agony echoed against the heavens.

This was beyond horrifying! All Europeans watched the Chinese girls, who were sobbing, shrieking or weeping in silence as the gang-rape began. One sentiment of selfish self-survival pervaded all white women and it remained unspoken—Better them than us.


Lieutenant Oolguun stood by and watched Fade’s and Jan’s gang-rape, grinning as he drank arkhi, but in strict moderation as alcohol didn’t agree with his erection. What a victory over these pretentious Hans! He loved every stroke a Merkit horseman was giving inside the cheap little tramp. He immensely enjoyed the moving display of her pale breasts with dark brown dots for nipples, noticing Jan was bustier than Fade, and he loved above all the expression of pain and terror and shame on their distorted features. They were good fun to enjoy. Rich girls usually squeal the loudest when they are taken by force.

Their father was watching. Now, that rich Chinese pig had his face bloody and his nose broken by Russian rifle butts, but the real face-kicker for him was to witness the rape of his beloved daughters at the hands of lowly Merkits!

Fade shrieked in despair, shaking her head like a hen soon to be slaughtered and begging the grinning Merkits, in a poignant expression of Mandarin, to please, please spare her virginity! The men were far too strong and would not to be denied. Fade shrieked out loud as she tried to understand that such fate will be her fortune.

The rich paleness of her jiggling breasts was a pure joy to behold and touch and knead as the men forced her to lie down on the grass with her alluring legs wide open for them, her velvety cunt now a public alley for Merkits to own, and the orgy was going to last the whole evening! Her silk dress was gone and discarded, where her golden dragons remained quiet and hidden.

“Bù! Bù! Bùùùùùùùù!” Fade kept screaming, her head shaking with mad terror as the first man, who had just stripped himself naked, settled himself on top of her while someone poured arkhi on the moving tumult of her boobs.

“Yeah! Yeah! Wet her tits! Wet her Han tits!”

“Let’s see how good she tastes!”

Everyone was laughing and Fade could only writhe in their evil grasp with her little fists clenched in powerless despair, her nails injuring her palms as the last shred of her honor flew away. Merkits licked the liquor off her dark-nipple tits. Her rapist-to-be took ample licks on her blossoming breasts before positioning himself for what came next.

The virgin girl, pinned under the man, shrieked in a deafening sound of pain as he thrust himself inside her and forced her sanctum open, and as he further strained, he slid and sank inside her unprepared pussy, thanks to the generous dollop of slobber he had previously used to coat his war-crime weapon. The Han girl was deflowered while unmarried, a fate worse than death. With her devastated father watching.

Fade cried and squealed in complete pain and despair as the grunting Merkit found his primal groove inside her, and he roared out loudly, marking his savage victory and the liberating satisfaction as he became one with the Han girl! And he fully indulged in the act, holding the girl’s head as she bitterly sobbed and he kissed her while he pounded her and quickly reached his climax, giving Fade her first Merkit load.

Jan was only a few paces away, surrounded by a circle of bandits and properly pounded where she stood as the first man in the moving circle found his joy between her opened legs, forcing the pure softness of her thighs to brush his vile flanks as the uniformed bandit took his pleasure inside her broken-in virginity.

While Jan squealed and wailed and felt the irrecoverable loss, the other men, while restraining her, made fun of how high a Han girl could sign when she was being gang-fucked by Merkits. Each bandit was overjoyed, full of liquor and eager to try her out.

Jan kept frantically screaming as her lovely face kept offering a pale contrast against their earth-baked faces. They kept rejoicing at the sight of her breast-jiggling rape under the endless sky, watching her with their cruel eyes and loving how her curvy knolls stood out of her slim torso as she was submitted to the law of the steppe.

All around the defiled sisters, other circles had organically taken shape around the unfortunate maidens, each of whom was urgently stripped out of her long, chaste-looking, yet revealing Chinese dress and forced to lose her virginity and honor in a brutal rape that would be followed by several others.

It was an unbridled orgy of rape where the silk was ripped off pairs of pale-bronze breasts, and the bright paleness of Chinese butts was unceremoniously uncovered and soon graced with a slobber-coated erection that belonged to a smiling Merkit. They took immense joy in raping them from behind, watching the glorious display of such a young butt, so full of curvy softness. Knowing that such pure-Chinese flesh belonged to a Han girl was enough for them to keep their erections up and sink it inside the weeping girl, before pounding her until she got what she was fit for, a Merkit load of cum.

Other girls were raped on the ground in the usual missionary style such as Fade, but one or two, like Jan, were kept half-standing and raped by men who preferred to remain on their feet and admire the girl’s pure features and dancing boobs as they took their pleasure inside her ravished beauty.

One of the girls was presently in great pain as her hymen was being torn by the unmerciful strokes from a prick-happy Merkit. The unnamed Han girl bitterly sobbed as she kept being rocked face first against the grass with her glorious rear end in full display. A man laughed and poured arkhi on her almond-pale buns. Then someone licked them while her rape went on. She was shamed for life, thankful that her father and mother were not there to see this. She had been taken from them in a second-class car. She would never forget the despaired cries of her mother, begging the smiling bandits to take her instead while her father was breaking down in tears.

Shian Li, the youngest one, was raped from behind, first by a man in his late thirties, who felt both guilty and extremely aroused at the sight of her virgin buttocks when they ragingly ripped her moss-grey dress off and uncovered her pristine nakedness. His erection expanded to a distended state of crazy proportions when they bent her down with her face in the grass and her mind-boggling butt was protruding in a surprisingly curvy display against her tiny waist.

The large bandit knelt on the ground behind Shian Li and spat on his humongous erection, and as he touched Shian Li’s unreal softness and pushed his cock between her young folds, forcing them apart as the girl yelped, he lost all sense of guilt and pushed forward, going deep inside her. The girl didn’t scream loud; she emitted a short yelp before taking him silently, down on her knees and elbows, as the girl and the man began to move together. The man held her waist and bounced her smooth butt against him in what soon became a furious barrage of grunting strokes, where he went nuts and thoroughly shook little Shian Li, whose black hair was moving like raven shockwaves under the barrage as she softly whimpered.

When he caught sight of her distorted features, he could see the girl was suffering, but he also felt some unexpected arousal inside her. She was moving herself back to meet him each time he rammed his punishing prick forward. The girl felt incredibly good and the tension quickly built up to an irrecoverable bliss. The Merkit, still wearing his dusty uniform shirt, accelerated the pounding into a total frenzy, making the girl utter a curious series of high-pitched squeals, and then he… “HHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNHHHH!!!”

He took his final relief and shot huge bolts of semen that rushed, just rushed out of him and forced him to bask in his heated ejaculation as he filled up Shian Li and his legs went weak out of sheer bliss.

The next man very eagerly took his place, smiling evilly as he grabbed Shian Li’s pale flesh and screwed her with his erection while the first rapist, still on shaky legs, stood by and looked on as her ordeal was resumed. That older man put his trousers back on and went to see the Captain about something regarding their other prisoners.

Fade opened her mouth wide and tried to scream and tell her father how sorry she was, while the second or third man was taking her, but her voice was now just as broken as the rest of her, and she heard the Merkit exhale a loud growl against the side of her face while his body twitched and trembled as he exploded inside her, giving her a load filled with swimmers that carried the risk of added infamy.

Jan let her head fall sideway, half-standing and leaning on the jeering men who kept holding her. Each one took a ride between her legs, and experienced the pleasure of ejaculating while holding her thighs or hips and looking at the rest of her defiled beauty, black hair on pale skin, while she was being crushed by the excess of debasement, banged into oblivion and forced to face her rapist’s odious face in that merry-go-round from Hell.

Her current rapist, just as vile-looking and ill-smelling as the other ones, suddenly uttered a loud cry of victory and pulled out of her, and he frenetically masturbated as shots upon shots of fat jism splattered her belly just above the blackness of her bush, and the men around her found it very funny to see a Merkit load gracing the naked stomach of a Han girl!

The next man, still only a boy, took his place and honored Jan’s beauty with his entering cock and a lick on her left breast. The short lad stooped down and began to rape her with his face right against her bosom, kissing the soft silk of her cleavage as he introduced her to something even worse than being raped by a Merkit—getting raped by a Merkit who stood shorter than herself!

Fade had to hear everything that happened to her sister. Fade lay on the grass, legs open with a bandit on top of her, and couldn’t move more than an inch no matter how hard she struggled. The next man to rape Fade was some nondescript scoundrel with the usual face that looked dumb and cruel to her Han eyes.

He covered her face with slobber as he licked her from her chin to her ear, reeking of alcohol as he painfully punched his prick inside her and began to take his pleasure in the vilest way imaginable, his mouth wide open with frothing slobber that dripped down and polluted her face as the Merkit grunted louder and louder, his eyes mad as he urgently raped her, all the way until he soon exploded inside Fade and compounded her debasement and her risk for a monstrous pregnancy.

Another man immediately took over and sweated profusely on her as Fade kept being rocked under that pack of Merkits. She realized he had already slid inside her and she knew for a fact that other men were also going to take their turns. Her life was over.


Kate held her face between her gloved hands, in complete shock as she witnessed the horror that was being forced on the Chinese girls. She flung herself in June’s arms and sobbed bitterly while smiling Merkits stood watch over them, acting as wardens with their rifles ready and no doubt eager to get relieved by their mates so they could have their fun too with their pricks ready.

The guards were encircling the twenty-odd group of white hostages while the less-fortunate girls were getting gang-raped only ten or twenty yards away. The white men had their hands tied up, and they were all roped together. Their girls and women were left free of their movements for some reason, but they were keenly watched and dared not try anything in the way of loosening the men’s bondage. At any rate, they were being spared from the worst infamy and that was the most important.

As she held her devastated sister in her arms, June noticed that their uniformed wardens kept looking eagerly at herself and her sister, not in the way of someone watching a prisoner, but more like men looking at girls, and they didn’t give much attention to the Chinese girls, as if the Mongolian men preferred to look at clothed white girls over naked Chinese wenches.

Yuri, a Prince of Russia in hiding from the Soviets, watched the Merkit-on-Chinese collective rape with a secret jolt of excitement, and he was shocked to realize that if Princess Nadejda Yuriya offered her virginity once again at that precise moment, he wouldn’t be able to deny her. He knew for a fact that a fuck with his Merry Little One would fatally result in a massive ejaculation, and he knew how incredibly intense this would be.

At least, his daughters were in relative safety. “Better their daughters than mine!” the Russian Prince thought, feeling a sunray of hope. Maybe a rescuing party was on its way. But then, Russian cavalry would mean the Soviet authorities and a risk for being unmasked, arrested and probably executed. And he couldn’t escape to this vast country unknown to him. He and his daughters were in a very bad spot indeed, but it was his sacred duty to keep them safe.

The other white girls and women looked at the appalling scene with a mix of disgust, contempt and secret excitement. Only the truly virtuous one was genuinely horrified and disgusted. She was one of a kind.

Maude kept quietly looking at the grass, a silent tear rolling down her pristine face while she stood by her father.

Adèle was wet under her skirt. She hated herself for feeling curious to experiment sex on the long grass in the arms of strong Mongolians, only hours after her husband had died, while vultures were feasting on his corpse and tasting his eyes. Her predicament was extraordinary, and so were her dispositions. Being kind to these bandits would probably make them kinder in return, she reasoned, knowing that her own arousal was her true motive.

Anna and Alexandra kept hugging each other, unable to take their eyes off the Chinese girls, who were paying with their body the price for sparing the white girls. Anna felt relieved to be spared from such an ordeal. Alexandra felt guilty.

“Alix?! Niet! Vernis’!”

Alexandra had moved away from Anna, who stood frozen in silence as she watched her elder sister advancing toward the Merkit guards with her royal grace, displaying her dainty feet as she kicked off her already-undone shoes. Father kept ordering her to come back, but she kept walking toward the guards, who looked at her noble figure with puzzled astonishment.

Princess Alexandra Yuriya Holstein-Gottorp-Romanov felt this wasn’t right. How could she let these poor Chinese girls suffer like trapped animals while she herself stood there and watched? Sharing their suffering was the right thing to do. She knew this was going to hurt, but she looked at these strong young men and they did not disgust her, at least not as much as that fat Soviet General she had lost her virginity to in a sacrifice that allowed herself and her surviving family members to escape Petrograd.

Captain Bilguun spotted Alexandra as she walked barefoot on the grass, her white toes pointing under the moving hem of her white gown. She presently stopped near the flabbergasted guards and looked up at the taller men like an icon of pure Orthodox virtue, while her relatives kept begging her to come back in Russian with their St. Petersburg accent.

The Merkit Captain smiled and was struck with a sudden fit of laughter. The Russian girl was offering herself in order to share the suffering alongside the non-white girls. He liked that. He never thought a white girl would do such a pure act of self sacrifice.

He presently pointed at the white-clad maid and spoke to his lieutenant, who had been nonchalantly watching the gang-rapes while drinking water from his canteen, after only a few sips of arkhi.

“Tell the men to go easy on this one. I’ll whip any man who rapes her anally, but the rest of her is fair game!”

“Oh, Sir! So you made your mind about the white girls?”

“What do you think, silly? Did you really think I was going to deprive our men, and myself, and you, from the priceless joy of taking white girls and treating them like the tramps they truly are? Raise the white flag! The real fun begins now!”

Lieutenant Oolguun raised a large white piece of cloth and fired his revolver in the air. He barked and repeated the same order, “Tsagaan emegteichüüd! Tsagaan emegteichüüd !”

“White women! White women!” The signal… At last!

Captain Bilguun watched the white girls and keenly noticed the quick shift of expression on their face, as their beautiful features went from an expression of relieved horror or dreadful guilt to an expression of worried surprise, soon followed with speechless terror and panic as they saw the horde of Merkits closing in on them fast, grinning and staring at them with the same expression of savage lust and curiosity, a horrific cohort of devil faces and tall shadows under the early-evening summer sky.

Alexandra was the only white woman who wasn’t surprised as she was firmly seized and felt Mongolian hands on her bosom, and one guard promptly ripped her white blouse open, sending little silver-adorned buttons flying down on the long grass, pricey baubles lost to the steppe. Alexandra did not resist nor scream. She let the bandits assault her clothes as her breathing quickly accelerated and beads of sweat appeared on her noble forehead, so immaculate under the dark waves of her royal hair.


The collective cries rose to the heavens as the unthinkable unfolded in a scene of pure horror, as fathers and husbands and Stanley vainly protested, struggling as they tried to break their bonds, closely watched and kept in line by stern-faced bandits who had rifles while the white men had nothing, had their hands tied up and were roped together.

The European men, rightfully enraged, were struck down by bandits who used their rifle butts. Most of the Merkits laughed and mocked the men as they beat them bloody, telling them how they were going to rape their women. It didn’t matter that their language wasn’t understood; they said it for themselves as they got more aroused by beating up the men, knowing they were going to rape their girls after.

As the Mongolian cohort closed in on the fair-skinned prisoners, and the men were seen being beaten down, each and every white girl suddenly realized, screaming in panic or unable to breathe in her stone-faced stupor, that the bandits were now coming for them! They were going to… No!!!

Bilguun loved that precise moment where the white girls realized they were going to get gang-raped as well. It was priceless!

Many girls tried to run, and fled directly into the guards at the rear, who were waiting for them, grinning as they caught them and promptly forced them to lie down on the grass while other bandits caught up with them. Other girls hugged each other or clung to a loved one, often shaking their head and shrieking in a gesture of denial of their fate. These girls were grabbed and separated by jeering Merkits while the white men were powerless to protect them.

Maude tried to flee and ran into Mongolian arms. The men flung her hat off her long blonde hair and commented on her wonderful skin and bright features as she began to weep and shivered in panic, while a quickly formed pack of hungry steppe wolves grinned at her with their Asian faces as they laid her down on the ground and began ripping her clothes off and pushed her dress up, revealing the bright splendour of her legs as she glued them together while their eager hands explored the intimate secrets of her crotch, wrestled against her to open her legs, forced her arms above her golden hair and held her delicate wrists together as they pinned her on the grass while she froze in silent shock, her mouth wide open and unable to process the chaos of sensations exploding within her as one Merkit savagely ripped her dark dress top before urgently finding and ripping the front of her chemise, and the bright splendor of her breasts drove all Merkits nuts as they realized, fully, upon seeing Maude’s pale nipples and her delicate complexion, that they had a white girl in their arms and they could do anything they wanted. The first man inside her noticed that her carpet of hair was darker than her golden drapes.

Adèle Deleu and the young French widow whose husband was shot on the train were both similarly manhandled. Both were forced down on the grass and promptly stripped. Adèle’s bust was soon forcibly uncovered and the luminous charms of her breasts, abdomen and hips were soon feeding Merkit erections as they urgently pulled her skirt up and off her propped-up legs, and a maddened man promptly pulled her shoes off as they ragingly tore her petticoat and got rid of all her garments and undergarments, leaving her Eve-naked and discovering the remarkable splendor of her legs and feet and the dark-golden bush between her legs while liquor was poured on her pale and jiggling breasts as she tried to wrestle the men off her in half-hearted attempts and felt savagely aroused, do what she will.

“Non! Noooon, j’vous en prie! Laissez-moi, bande de sales macaques!” the French woman yelled at them, cursing at them in her chic accent, calling them all sorts of foul names in French while the grinning Merkits got rid of her hat and loosened the alluring curls of her dark hair, before joyfully wrestling her onto the ground, where they slapped her hard and spread-eagled her. They tucked her dress and petticoat all the way up, right at her waist and even higher once they broke her fancy Parisian belt, and they uncovered the illuminating brightness of her legs and hips, a whiteness intensified by the blackness of her lush beaver. The French widow, only twenty-six years of age, screamed her life out as a first man, his trousers already down, covered her and promptly pushed his cock against her slit, forcing her entry and soon violating her as she kept cursing at them with maddened eyes and screams of pain, forced to endure the brutal defilement as her rapist took unfathomable delight at the sight of her jiggling tits and the wonderful tightness of her pussy. The white woman was theirs as per the law of the steppe.

This was just the beginning. The white girls realized how intensely the bandits had been lusting after them. All hell broke loose! The scene was overlooked by the grand sky of thin evening clouds high above the hilly vastness of the steppe. The unthinkable was physically possible. Mongolian hands grabbed and ripped while white girls screamed in shrill notes of disbelief or remained silent and tried to wrap their pretty heads around what they never imagined could happen to them. A couple of girls had been secretly imagining this, but they were just as terrified as the others now that it was happening for real.


“You told me! You gave me your word! Bastard! Bastards!” Yuri screamed in his noble Russian tongue just as a smiling guard struck his face with the hard butt of a Russian rifle while others brutally snatched Nadejda from his arms and Anna screamed her life out from being seized by other grinning Merkits.

“Papa! Papa! Papaaaa! Paapaaaa! Niiiieeeeet! Niiieeeeet!” Nadejda shrieked, her blue eyes suddenly bathed in tears and made strangely beautiful as she kept looking at her knocked-down father. Her father, her love, the only man to whom she would give her virginity.

“Shvibzik! Shvibzik… Niet! Niet!” the powerless father uttered, crying like a child from where he lay as he watched the scumbags who dared to put their dirty paws on his Merry Little One.

The victorious Merkits brutally ripped her blouse open and Nadejda began to let out deafening shrieks, sounding as if they were eviscerating her alive. The bandits rejoiced at the sight of her bra, further tearing her girly blouse off her chest and down her small shoulders. Her long light-brown hair was loosened free of her needless ribbons and she suddenly looked more like a woman, perhaps for the first time in her blossoming life.

Anna was treated just as vilely. Her austere black dress top was forced open as she heard her father calling Shvibzik’s name, begging for Nadejda, always for Nadejda and not for her! She felt so jealous! Nadejda, Shvibzik, always her and only her, and never her! Anna was the least-loved daughter, always was, always would be. By not calling her name, her father hurt her with an added pang of white-hot pain as she was about to get violated.

Merkit hands discovered the mystery of Anna’s light corset, a fancy moss green in color, along with her inviting cleavage, so fascinatingly white to their Asian eyes. She screamed in searing pain as they violently pulled at her corset, not understanding or remembering how one opened it, but after long seconds of a straining bout that proved painful to Anna, who yelped and begged them to stop, the busks gave way and the corset was opened, and her light chemise was immediately torn and ripped away by frenzied men who hastily got rid of her corset and further tore her chemise, which utterly gave way and a loud sound of tearing fabric ripped through the air as her free-moving breasts came into sight in a tender display of European youth for the lustful bandits.

“Nii aaahh! Aaaaahhh nnhhaaaaaa-aaaaaah aaaaaaaa…” Anna panicked as they pinned her on the grass, held her arms stretched out away from her. She tried to keep her legs close together as they attempted to force them apart while tucking her dress up and uttering lewd comments as they saw her legs and realized what a catch they had netted on that train. And her heart sank further down into Hell as she sensed that her father was only looking at Nedejda.

Unlike her non-identical twin sister, Nadejda wore a modern bra under her lace-rimmed blouse, a youthful sight the bandits discovered with savage joy as they swiftly tore and pulled her garments away, soon tearing her bra off and leaving the shrieking girl topless under the early-evening sunlight.

The sun was still bright and the Merkits missed nothing of Nadejda’s glorious tits. They were small, but she was so petite that they actually looked full and perky on her; she was wrong to think ill of her breasts and feel that Alexandra’s were more beautiful. Nadejda was gorgeous in a way only a dainty virgin could be, and her elder sister didn’t have that small-girl way of being that was so natural to Shvibzik.

Time stopped as Nadejda’s white-Russian bust formed a strange display of preposterous grace under the bright sun; such a topless apparition did not belong to Mongolia. It did not belong anywhere other than a bedroom on a wedding night in Europe or North America.

The stupefied Merkits surrounding and restraining her learned that a pair of small and pure-looking breasts could elicit an extremely powerful erection. Other bandits spotted Nadejda topless and augmented the circle of her “suitors”. They were all going to take their turns! In front of her father.

Her weeping father saw Nadejda’s splendor amid the salivating bandits as the tender flesh of her milk jugs yielded under their heathen touch as she kept bawling and calling her daddy. Her European splendour was lost under a press of earth-bronze hands as the Merkits laughed and jeered at her. Unthinkable!

Her noble father’s erection got painfully hard as he watched how they were urgently pulling Shvibzik’s long skirt right down and off her tiny waist and slim hips, before brutally ripping her modern panties off to discover the dancing, wiggling display of her brown beaver, a wonderful carpet of well-trimmed hair, as the girl kept shrieking in absolute terror and calling for her daddy in her panicked St. Petersburg Russian.

Her naked sex formed a delicate and grotesque sight of sensual desecration while the Merkits couldn’t believe how divinely adorable she looked, from her shoed feet right up to her loosened chestnut hair. They had never seen such white splendour in so small a girl; they thought they were going to rape a youngster like many others and found they had just undressed a fairy from another world. Nadejda was this beautiful in the nude!

Lieutenant Oolguun went into the trouble of pulling her shoes off and he felt an electric jolt course throughout his strong body as he touched her little feet and caressed her delicious lower legs. She was so young and full of life! Especially to the 40-something man. She was so little and delicate! She got him harder than a rutting yak. She was going to be one of the best fucks of his life!

He would never forget the moment when Nadejda’s butt was revealed to his eager eyes as he turned her around and watched her small, yet addictive beauty as they held her arms and she aimlessly pedaled the air with her feet, trying to run away as the grinning Merkits lifted her up, and they admired her seamless butt curves that blended into the lines of her small legs in divine harmony. Such a fairy did not belong in this rough, God-forsaken country. She was a mid-summer night’s dream.

Oolguun feverishly ran his callused hands around the softly civilized contours of Nadejda’s butt. Touching her youthful intimacy was beyond words, and the shrieks of all the white girls getting assaulted nearby added to their already-unbearable load of savage joy. Raping this little white tramp was going to be so much fun! And she clearly looked like a virgin; she kept bawling and desperately calling her daddy.

Oolguun wasn’t going to wait any longer. He ordered the short girl to be forced down on her knees and bent over in front of him, in the full display of her mind-boggling nakedness. He hastily unbuttoned his trousers and, at last, freed his raging erection. He was phenomenally hard and swollen! Her butt was magically arousing.

Nadejda was immobilized between two smiling Merkits holding her arms while two others grabbed her ankles. The maiden princess was on all fours while Oolguun knelt behind her and felt his arousal intensify as he quickly unbuttoned and lowered his khaki trousers, grinning as he heard her father’s loud protesting and swearing and the girl’s squeals as she kept vainly struggling and calling her daddy’s name. Many Merkits were eagerly stripping themselves naked as they kept looking at Nadejda. They had seen her all day in her clothes and found out she was more beautiful naked than they had ever imagined.

Oolguun buried one finger inside her pussy, forcing her to yelp with surprise and a sudden rush of arousal. He found with surprise that she was soaking wet. He told the men, who all laughed and began calling her a Russian little tramp. They all knew she was secretly enjoying this. They would have laughed even more had they known she was aroused because her father was watching.

As he touched the ungodly softness of Nadejda’s buns, Oolguun felt an indescribable elation as he kept admiring her buttocks—so slender that they almost looked like they belonged to a boy, but her nubile curves were unquestionably feminine. The lithe girl was about to get her first Merkit prick!

“Papaaaaa! Niiieeeeeet! Nieee-eeee-eeeeeee’t…” the Russian princess squealed as the Mongolian leader pushed his eager lance against her tight slit. He strained a second or two as she kept squealing and he suddenly sank deep inside her wet cunt as she screamed in pain, and he felt a small quantity of warm liquid against his prick as he started to go back and forth, making himself at home as he realized he just tore her virgin’s skin. Not all virgins have one, but Nadejda was the biblical type of virgin. She was.

At last, oohh, at last! He was inside her! He grabbed her waist and began to pound the lithe girl urgently, just as if he had gone a full year without any sex, and she just kept squealing and calling her daddy, her beautiful hair shaking in long waves as her head started bobbing under the repeated forces he was imparting her as he gleefully pounded her, looking down at the small fullness of her butt. She was so wonderful to rape! The little tramp! Oh, by the sky and all that was holy! She was worth the risk of attacking that train!

Oolguun kept his hold of Nadejda’s waist and really enjoyed her diminutive size as he kept pounding her. He just banged her against him, ignoring the girl’s frantic squeals and her father’s Russian-spoken protests. Raping a white daughter in front of her father was so much fun! The little tramp was already whimpering. She was enjoying this, no matter how much she protested.

His war souvenirs from Poland rushed through his mind as he raped the little tramp, bouncing her lassie’s butt against his lap in repeated bliss. At last! At last, he was having her! Ooooh, yes! Deep inside her! Bucking her hard! Grunting like an animal! Listening to her whimpers! Hearing the squeals of her broken virginity! There you are, Mister Russian! Your daughter also gets raped, like the Chinese tramps! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Let’s go even harder!

“You, good-good fuck!” Oolguun told Nadejda in his broken Russian, but she understood, unfortunately, and felt the pang of added humiliation, as if being deflowered by Mongolian bandits wasn’t enough! Nadejda was humiliated by her own body, which youthfully adapted to the brutal abuse by flooding her pussy with juices and forcibly arousing her.

His erection powerfully expanded inside her forbidden vagina as he felt the blissful pressure quickly build up. He knew how mortifying this was for white men to watch! He felt his hands sink in her pure flesh as he kept holding her naked waist and reveled in her squeals and whimpers, while her wrists and lower legs were always being held by his smiling men. And he, being the officer, was the first to take his pleasure inside the little Milady. He was raping her the true Mongolian way, from behind like a mating yak, and with grunts that spoke volumes about how much he was enjoying it!

“Nadejda! Nadejda… Shvibzik…” Yuri cried out pitifully as he sobbed like a child, yet unable to look away from where Nadejda’s butt kept urgently colliding with the rider from the steppe.

Oolguun gleefully pounded her deep and hard, uncaring of any pain and discomfort he was causing her. Ooh, this was so good! Oh, yes! Yes! So good! A white virgin! He was raping a white girl! Her soft butt kept tapping his lap in sounds of pure enjoyment. What a great fuck he was having!

He did what he loved to do when he was about to release his load. He sat on his heels, pulling Nadejda’s but into his lap while the men restraining her arms raised her torso in such a way that she found herself bouncing on her rapist with her torso at a forty-five degree angle, her tits facing away and constantly kneaded and touched by the men holding her, and Oolguun bounced her on him in non-stop frenzy, holding her waist and just watching the powerful crack of shadow at the bottom of her bouncing butt, so wonderfully pale against his leather-colored skin as he kept hammering her with unbridled savagery.

Her flowing hair was a delight to see against the immaculate youth of her shoulders, as she kept whimpering like a mad girl, experiencing a sudden and diffuse feeling of well-being everywhere at once, especially down inside her, at her tits and where men were holding her waist and caressing her legs and feet while the furious pounding went on unabated, forcing her to yell and call out the name of the man she loved, “aaaah Yuriii!!!” as she climaxed and arched her little back, pushing her breasts out for all men to see and enjoy. Yuri would never forget the sight of Nadejda, moaning loud with her mouth wide open as she kept bouncing on the Mongolian bandit.

Oolguun kept enjoying the girl on his lap, and he did his utmost to delay the final explosion. As he felt this was it, he cupped her breasts from behind and held her like this, his chest against her back and furiously pounded her as much as he could, feeling the gentle imprint of her nipples on his palms, and getting lost in the scented world of her hair as he blissfully flooded Nadejda with a massive load, emitting a long groan, “Aaaaaiihhrrrnnnnnnnnhh… hhhnnnnnn” as he spewed jets of semen while she just let him use her and stopped resisting, her head hanging down, looking down at the grass as the bouncing decreased into a gentle post-orgasmic lull.

Yuri witnessed the disaster. He barely registered Anna, who was presently lying down on the grass, her dress crudely tucked all the way up her waist while a grunting bandit was taking his pleasure on top of her as she shrieked her pain after losing her hymen, and her snow-white breasts kept moving along with the rocking of her defilement as the Merkit growled at her face and she shrieked her shame as he consummated the act of sordid savagery while others held her firmly pinned down and waited their turn, also watching Nadejda’s defilement.

Nadejda was in searing pain, yet she felt extremely aroused to be taken in front of her father, but her prevailing feeling was an unfathomable sense of loss; these earth-faced devils had taken from her the most precious thing she had; they took from her what she wanted to give to her daddy, and to no other man. She was ruined now! Her life was over, and she bitterly sobbed while men laughed around her.

Oolguun was done. He threw the maiden at his men and got his trousers up again. He watched his men easily wrestling Nadejda down to the ground and positioning her on all fours with two men holding her arms while a tall bandit, naked, knelt behind her and made her feel another Merkit lance as he stabbed his forceful way inside her and began to rape her.

Yuri only watched that tall bandit as he kept violently driving the pale smoothness of her buttocks against him, his cruel face showing all signs of savage joy. The sounds of Nadejda’s butt tapping against that man would always remain with Yuri. The twisted father felt nearly as much arousal as if he were himself inside Shvibzik.

As he kept watching her ordeal, he realized he was going to fuck Nadejda, his own daughter, at the first opportunity no matter what. She was just a little tramp, freely available now and unmarriageable. He was also going to punish Alexandra for her stupid show of virtue. She ought to know better. She wasn’t even screaming as they defiled her body; the little tramp!

The bandit raping Nadejda presently banged her past his edge. His legs turned to water as he kept trying to keep pounding her all through his glorious ejaculation, the force of which left him breathless.

Oolguun watched that predictable conclusion and he felt that he indeed preferred petite girls with very white skin. He had raped a similar one on a farm in Poland, also in front of her father, and the result had been of the same magnitude.

He ought to retire and go live in northern Siberia, where he’d marry one such fair-skinned girl from the local country and live a happy and peaceful life with such a Siberian Snegurochka. He was getting too old for banditry. And he no longer loved his Merkit wife. He took several sips of arkhi in an attempt to forget how selfish he really was.

Lieutenant Oolguun looked on as his men moved Nadejda around and lifted her up to a horizontal position amid them with her legs wide open and her arms stretched wide. They said this would be a fun position to try her in and it would be great to rape her standing, and easily done too since she was as light as feather. Her little fists were balled in powerless rage as they poured arkhi on her wonderful tits and took priceless licks of liquor mixed with girly sweat.

Nadejda kept shrieking and calling her father while the next man, his trousers down, speared himself between her legs and savagely forced himself inside her, uncaring of any pain he was causing to the girl. His pleasure was easily readable on his Mongolian face as he strained and pushed himself inside her and began to savagely rape her, standing and looking down on her liquor-soaked tits as she kept screaming, spread-eagled and raped amid a compact circle of grinning bandits. The one raping her smiled with a fierce expression of joy; the little tramp was really good to rape!

He was finally raping a white girl; at last! Holding her slender hips, the Merkit grunted loud under the sky and accelerated his pounding while Nadejda kept screaming like a banshee, naked and humiliated amid the Mongolians. Her nearly childish face offered a surreal sight as she was rocked back and forth under the man’s urgent strokes.

The subordinate Merkit kept raping Nadejda while the others held her in position, grinning and making fun of her as they watched and often touched the jiggling smallness of her tits with nipples that were hypnotizing them with their paleness and their small pinpoint size as they stood on delicate areolas; her jiggling and flattened breasts were caressed by the wind and lighted by the fading sunlight, and pressed by Merkit hands as she kept being hammered in that horizontal position and kept trying, in vain, to understand what was happening to her. She was too shaken to realize she could become pregnant.

Nadejda confusedly realized that such things weren’t all that rare on this lowly earth. Perhaps God didn’t exist. At least, He didn’t care.

The Merkit finally screamed his bliss and looked up at the sapphire sky and the nascent stars as he pushed deep inside the maiden and spewed a massive load, filling her up with risks for her life to come. Another Merkit took over and screwed her hard and good until he too spewed a big load. Another Merkit came. Followed with another one, just as filthy-looking and despicable as the previous ones. Nadejda lost count of how many of them relieved themselves inside her ruined honor.

Yuri would have shot himself through the head if he had had a loaded revolver and only one free hand. He powerlessly looked on, his cock loaded with novel arousal, as all his three daughters were raped, raped and raped again by an endless stream of fierce, hard-faced Merkits. All white female prisoners shared the same fate as the Chinese girls.


Captain Bilguun would always remember that priceless moment when the white girls realized they were also going to get it, that they were no longer above non-white women. He especially enjoyed that look of stupid astonishment in June’s face as she stared at the oncoming Merkits with her jaw dropped and sudden terror in her eyes, with her sister in her arms, and then she shouted Kate’s name as she understood.

“Kate! Run! Run! Run! They’re coming for us too! Noooooo! Please! No! No! Not Kate! Leave my baby sister alone, ple-eeeee-eeze…”

Bilguun rushed at June and grabbed her, and as the American adventuress started to protest in an angry voice, he easily overpowered her and forced-kissed her, making her white hat fall in the process and getting intoxicated by the Manhattan perfume from her bobbed hair. He had selected her from the moment he boarded the train and irrupted inside her compartment. He knew he wasn’t going to be disappointed. He’d try the little sister later. He presently pushed his bulge against her wriggling hips and loved to feel her panic against his fast-growing erection.

June was powerless to prevent her sister’s inevitable fate. Their brother Stanley had been beaten up with rifle butts by the grinning bandits. He could only watch in horror and secret arousal.

Kate tried to run, but she was urgently grabbed by four Merkits who began to caress her hair while removing her hat; they groped her tight little body through her pricey dress as she screamed in anger and fear, feeling those burning hands of hell all over her most private parts as they very agressively groped her.

“Get off me! Get off me! No! Noooo! June! Help me! Naaaoooooo!” Kate squealed, helpless with her dark-gloved hands forming cute fists of raging despair as grinning Merkits took hold of her small person and pulled her arms on either side of her to get a better view on those modest knolls she had under her dress; they looked forward to see how white those tits were going to be, so they violently grabbed and tore her Manhattan’s fashion girl’s dress, pulling the black fabric apart and uncovering the mysteries of her luminous cleavage and the modernity of her New York bra.

“Aaooh, No! No! No! Nooo! Nooooooooooo I beg you please don’t, aaaaaah! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH NNNNNNOOOOOO-OOOOOOO-OOOOO!”

Katie’s shrill screams of panic only fed their fire. She frantically struggled, but it was no use. They firmly restrained her. She heard them speaking between them in a lewd tone.

“Strip her naked! I want her butt!” a voice shouted in Merkit.

“Yes! Yes! Her clothes off! Naked! Naked!” another one shouted.

“The white girl! White girl! White girl!”

The Mongols screamed in absolute fury as Kate’s dress top litteraly exploded in shreds of destruction as it was pulled apart and down by the men who discovered the pristine beauty of her torso. Her bra made one last statement from Manhattan as the Yankee girl shrieked again while an evil-faced Merkit grabbed the undergarment and pulled the cotton away and tore it off effortlessly.

“Nooooo! Noooooo, please! Stop! Not this! Nooooo I’m virgin! You can’t I’m white nooo…”

Kate’s tits were in sudden and crude display, a preposterous sight under the East-Mongolian sky in the middle of grinning bandits. She couldn’t believe this was happening!

“Oh yes! You have a lovely pair of tits, young lady!”

Someone had just spoken in English, a man. He wasn’t one of the prisoners. Who could that be?!

Kate noticed him amid the heated confusion, through the veils of her tears as a man began to avidly suck her tits, filling her with terror and disgust as she found out with disbelief that beneath her face was the balding head of a white-haired man, a white man! Who was he?!

But then, Merkit hands savagely pulled the ruins of her dress down below her hips and down her legs, and she shrieked at the top of her voice as they ripped off her underwear shorts and she felt their burning gaze on her suddenly exposed butt. She bitterly sobbed, begging the men to please stop this as they flooded her with waves of conflicting sensations by finger-invading her pussy, caressing and licking her butt, her legs and her feet while the mysterious old man kept gleefully sucking her tits, covering them with unwelcome slobber.

Stanley sat on the ground, a bit on his side in a state of semi consciousness. His face was bloody and hurting, but he found himself unable to repress his secret lust as he witnessed Kate’s defilement at the hands of these vile bandits. He was seeing Kate in the nude for the very first time; he only caught glimpses through the throng of bandits, but he knew she was naked, and this got him very hard down there. He had always wanted to fuck his young sister, as it sometimes happens to brothers, although few actually act on it. He also discerned a different man among Kate’s assailants. That particular man wore a dark blue uniform, which Stanley suddenly recognized as the standard uniform worn by employees of the Trans-Siberian Express. And that man was partaking! Who was that traitor?

Kate’s breasts, perky and high-riding, were kissed, sucked and kneaded by the old, balding man, who spoke again…

“Your little tits are delicious, positively delicious, young lady!” he said, admiring the light-brown grace of her nipples on rather wide areolas.

Kate screamed in horror as she presently recognized his voice and his British accent. The old guardsman!

“I kove the delicate color of your nipples, young lady!”

Kate felt her heart turn to water as she realized this disgusting old creep was a traitor who had helped the bandits, and he was now going to…

“Nooooooooooo! Please! Please I beg you… Don’t! Don’t! Dooooooooooooon’t!!!”

“I love the way you scream, young lady! I’m going to really enjoy this, young lady!”

The creep kept calling her “young lady” in the very same way he would always call her whenever she had the displeasure of his presence on the train. And he would always find reasons to come to their compartment. She had had no trouble guessing what he wanted from her under the thin veneer of his English good manners. The old creep! Kate shuddered at the thought of becoming his fuck, and she suddenly realized that those Mongolian bandits suddenly looked less frightening to her.

“Please, be gentle with me… Just be gentle,” Kate said to the Merkits as she looked away from that odious Mycroft; why did she have to remember his name? Her favorite Sherlock Holmes story was The Adventure of the Greek Interpreter, where Holmes’ elder brother, Mycroft, makes his first appearance. The pleasure of reading it was now lost forever to Kate! Why did he have to bear that name? Why? Why? Why? It was so unfair! She was a fine girl! Why this?

“Why? Why are you doing this? Why? I’m a nice girl!” Kate said as the Mongolians gently positioned her into a bent-over position. The old man had translated Kate’s request in Chinese, and the bandits were suddenly very gentle with her, which greatly surprised the Yankee girl, who was of a naturally amiable disposition and said, “Thank you!”

“You’re very welcome, young lady!”

Mycroft’s reply mortified Kate and reminded her she wasn’t in nice surroundings.

The first bandit had his trousers down and had already coated his erection, a big erection, with his slobber. He added more slobber as a bandit reminded him that she wanted them to be gentle. A man was fingering Kate to make sure she was at least partly wet while another one was stroking her hair and speaking to her in a comforting tone, trying to tell her that they were going to be gentle, that she was a lovely girl and they were happy to give her their love. Another man was down and caressing her feet, which he had contemplated the whole afternoon as he rode behind her. He was so happy to be touching them, at last! She was so lovely to touch and smell!

Kate understood their soothing tone and gestures. Only the old guardsman kept taunting her by calling her “young lady” repeatedly and telling her how he had been dreaming of this moment and how he was going to take his pleasure, at last, inside her.

She felt weirdly aroused from being the center of all these manly attentions from the bandits. She felt their strength through their touch on her and understood that the boys she had previously dated were, well, boys. She had been used to remain in control with boys she dated, never allowing them to take any liberties with her as she had yet to meet the real deal for her, and now these savages were getting her hot and wobbly on her legs! These fierce brigands were nothing like these Manhatan boys in chic suits and flashy hats.

The bandit behind her put his thigh between her legs, causing her to slightly widen her stance, making her entrance more naturally accessible for him. He was short enough to be able to take her standing, and with a savage joy, he guided his throbbing cock at her unbroken entrance while his mates kept her in that bent-over position.

“Please, I’m virgin!” Kate instinctively pleaded and suddenly yelped a loud, “A-haa!” as the bandit growled like an animal and gently strained, pushing her unexplored folds to make way.

“Nooooo! Leave my sister alone!” begged June, who was already half naked and the object of Bilguun’s unwavering attention.

Bilguun felt an extreme sense of elation as he watched the younger sister getting rear-ended by one of his best men, who grabbed Kate’s pure-white hips as he began to rape her like a stallion.

“A-haaa! A-haaa! No please! A-haaa A-haaa A-haaa I’m a nice girl A-haaa A-haaa A-haaa a nice Manhattan girl Aa-haaa nooo,” Kate uttered while her nubile body actively responded to the forceful onslaught.

She felt horrified and weirdly satisfied in her curiosity of knowing what it feels like to be taken by a man. It was painful, but not as much as she had feared, but she understood they had prepared her by touching her the way they did. They were not as cruel as she thought. But they really wanted to fuck her! She could tell from the way they were touching her.

The bandit indeed soon forgot that she had asked them to be gentle. Her pussy felt incredibly good, and if she was really a virgin, then she didn’t have much of a hymen and was one of those girls whose first time isn’t so bad. He raped her and caressed the softness of her skin; what a sight to behold! Her hair formed a perfect contrast against the milky-paleness of her back, and her small waist made her child-bearing hips look wide and luminous between his brown hands as he got lost in the fascinating curves of her booty. The thrill of raping a white girl was unportrayable through words.

He kept pounding her and surrendered to the will of his body, accepting he wasn’t going to last long. He also watched his Captain.

Bilguun was himself violating June while lying down on his side as the other men restrained the girl’s arms and forced her to squat down on her rapist, with both her feet on one side of him, so he took her sideway where he enjoyed a magnificent three-quarter profile view on her buttocks, a sight that caused Bilgungs powerful erection to swell even more.

They kept June’s torso in a slanted, face-down position Bilguun himself held her waist and bounced her buttocks forcefully against him! June was moaning hard, and her squatting figure gave a surreal show of legs. Ulguun had left her white blouse on her back, and this intensified the nakedness of June’s pale buns that kept bouncing on Bilguun’s lap with loud sounds as he grunted hard, taking immense pleasure in the act while forcing her to whimper like a bitch. The Captain knew how to fuck a white girl!

The bandit brought back his attention to Kate, whose vagina and beauty caused him to suddenly lose control and he exploded inside the Yankee girl, continuing to pound her rear end as long as he could while he blissfully let go of a large load. What a relief! All his sauce inside the white girl! “Uuurgghh!”

Next in line was the man who had ridden behind Kate the whole afternoon. The old guardsman cursed, but he was told to wait, in Chinese. The girl normally belonged first to the rider she had been roped to, then to the rider who was following. The others came after, but since he was a guest of their Captain, they had no problem with giving him the third place.

Mycroft thus impatiently waited as the second bandit took his turn inside Kate, who felt weirdly calm, now that the rape was in progress. She had been terrified when it was a horrible threat and she could hope to prevent it, but now that she was being raped, there was nothing left to do but try to endure the ordeal in the least damaging way possible. Besides, her youthful body was responding in ways she found surprisingly nice and warm, and these bandits were more human and civilized than she had given them credit for. She was warming to the Mongol horsemen.

The second bandit raped Kate from behind with unfathomable delight and elation. He was also short enough to take her as he stood, with some widening of his stance, but ohh! When he penetrated her, he thought of all the time he had gazed at the shapes of her hips, her sleek hair under her black hat, and got lost in the contemplation of her petite figure as he rode behind her. Now the time had finally come to ride her from behind, in the nude, and he let out a wild scream of satisfaction as he sank inside the girl…


And he copulated with her like a beast! He pounded her with force and purpose, imparting the venting of his cumulative lust onto her shaken body as he took the full brunt of his delight deep inside her, whimpering suddenly as he grunted loudly, and they did this dance and song together. She was herself unable to repress the surging waves of well-being that began to take control of her lithe body. Even standing barefoot on East-Mongolian soil was now intensely erotic to the girl from Manhattan.

Kate didn’t realize she was moving herself to shift the angle of penetration and make the sexual act better for her while the Merkit kept pounding her, and she whimpered louder and louder as she suddenly understood, with shame, that she was going to climax if this kept on…

“A-haa! A-haa! A-haaa! A-haa I’m a nice girl A-haaa! No please! Noo A-haa! A-haaa!”

Karen’s whimpers mingled with the man’s savage grunts as he accelerated his pace, then slowed down in an attempt to last a bit longer, and this caused Kate to suddenly explode from deep, deep within…

“A-haaa, aaaah aaaaaaaaahhh Oh my God! Oh my God! I’m a nice girl! A nice-nice giirrrrhhhL!”

Kate groaned as grenades of ecstasy went off everywhere at once inside her small body. It was unbelievable! So intense! A rolling fire from Heaven! She repeatedly rammed herself to meet the bandit’s implement, and that did it for him.

The bandit flashed in his mind the picture of Kate walking in front of his horse, barefoot in her black dress under the bright afternoon sun, the shapes of her clothed butt tantalizing him, and now he had her naked in his arms, holding that same butt as he fucked her, and it was so…


The bandit shot bolts of semen inside Kate. Heavy bolts! Rich cream of Merkit heat! At last! At last! They had stopped the train, boarded the train! And now, now! He was inside her!

“Ahh, tsagaan okhin!” he screamed while shooting the last bit of his epic ejaculation. The white girl!

They had won! And it was fan-tas-tic!

The panting bandit, his balls fully emptied, let his legs fail under him and fell down on his knees, where he grabbed Kate’s splendid butt with both hands and pressed his sweating face against her prodigious whiteness, still unable to believe what he just did.

Mycroft rushed at Kate and “helped” the relieved bandit by pushing him out of his way, which was insulting to a Merkit rider coming from a stranger, but the bandits were so intensely caught up in the act of gang-fucking the girl that they all brushed it off as boys-will-be-boys stuff. And this train chief had been instrumental in making the attack easy for them. Let the old veteran have the girl!

The old guardsman, who had stripped himself naked from the waist down, impatiently grabbed Kate’s derriere and shouted, “At last! At last! The young lady!” and he rushed his hard cock inside her cum-drenched pussy, not minding being the third man inside her.

“Hhmm NHHRR!” the sixty-something gentleman uttered as he forcefully penetrated Kate, learning how tight she really was as he felt her welcoming heat and began to mount her while nudging her down on her knees, since his six feet of height didn’t agree with Kate’s diminutive size.

As she was moved down on all fours, Kate looked behind and screamed in horror as she realized she was being raped by that old depraved creep.

“Noooo! Not him! Not him! No! No! No! No!”

She bolted and the bandits had to hold her down firmly while Mycroft, unfazed, reinserted his staff and began to pound her, this time kneeling behind her, where he had a solid position and grabbed the crease of her hips and reveled in the act of finally raping the little cute Miss from America. She was the final reason why he had betrayed his employer’s trust by helping the bandits. He had given Bilguun the information about wealthy passengers and lovely little daughters, but he had asked for a non-negligible percent of the money plus the privilege of partaking in the subsequent rape of female passengers.

Kate kept screaming in horror, calling Mycroft an old depraved pig as he kept pounding her in long, ample strokes, taking his time and letting the pressure build up according to its natural cycle, and June also recognized him…

“You! You! Bastard! Get off her, you bastard! May you rot in Hell with the devils of the Pit! Old pig!” June hollered, herself also getting raped from behind by a pack of bandits while Bilguun, grinning and basking in his post-climax joy, was watching the scene. Raping white girls was a loud celebration!

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ooh, young lady! Young lady! Young lady! It’s so nice meeting you properly! I was dying to, huhhh, yes! I was dying to be properly introduced, hhnnyaahh! Oh, God! I love your derriere! You have a, aahhh, God! A nice round derriere, young lady! And now I’m gonna see your tits jiggle as I RAPE you! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”

June could only watch in horror as that disgusting old man moved Kate around along with the bandits who helped him in pinning Kate on the ground as she kept wailing and frantically struggling and writhing while shaking her head and screaming, “Nooo! Nooo! Nooo! Noo!”

The old bastard took a precise survey of Kate’s bush of black hair, and touched it, causing the girl to bolt and shriek as they spread her legs out and she kept squealing and bolting in their arms, arching her back and causing her breasts to push further out of her chest and jiggle in a way that fed the old man’s juice-coated erection.

Mycroft re-entered Kate and began the new phase of her rape, sensing that this time, he was near his finale. Reveling in the girl’s frantic screams, he supported his weight on his arms where he had a lovely view on the jiggling play of her breasts as the poor girl kept screaming at the top of her lungs, forced to watch Mycroft’s rat face and his balding head and white crown of hair as he raped her with frothing slobber coming out of his mouth and dripping down on her tits. This was so gross!


“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Take this! Take this, little Mademoiselle! Yes! Yes! Nice meeting you, young lady!”

Amid the bandits’ heated jeering, Mycroft raped little Kate with a devilish grin on his leathery face as he bobbed above her and pounded her with unrestrained abandon, always watching the jiggling tumult of her young tits as they kept bouncing up and down, showing her wide areolas and her light-brown nipples in a frenzied dance as he blissfully passed his edge and had a very hard time believing his good luck as he finally erupted inside Kate, growling and grunting as he gave her his semen while thinking of when he was seeing her on the train, fully clothed with the shapes of her out-of-reach tits tantalizing him, and now they were jiggling naked under him in a scene from paradise. He filled her up nice and proper.

As she took his hot vanilla pudding, Kate shrieked just as loudly as if Mycroft’s semen were melted iron gushing inside her.

“You old devil! Go rot in Hell! I’ll kill you!” Kate yelled at him as he got up to his feet and laughed at the New-York lass, who sobbed and suddenly retched a small amount. A bandit immediately made her drink some arkhi and gently cleaned her mouth using his fingers. She was so adorable!

When the next bandit began to rape her in the same fun position where they could all see her jiggling tits while keeping her little gloved hands held together above her head, Kate kept frantically wailing as the pounding started, looking as lovely as ever with her face and her breasts covered with sweat as she wailed in horror, her head bobbing on the steppe’s grass with a Merkit inside her while other bandits were still waiting their turn.

Kate’s wailing wasn’t as much caused by the gang-rape from the Merkits as it was caused by her rape at the hands of Mycroft. This one rape had broken her soul in a myriad of tiny shards that nothing would ever put back together again.

Mycroft put his dark uniform trousers back on and drank arkhi as he watched the other bandits raping Kate and June. His victory was a very sweet one. Bilguun the Fearless stood near him and wondered what he was going to do with this now-useless old man, who was capable of turning against him since he had betrayed his own employer. In the meantime, he drank arkhi and basked in the recent memory of raping the American adventuress…

Sucking June’s tits had been an adventure in itself. Her bobbed hair and the fantastic paleness of her face caused her tits to be especially alluring and erotic to kiss and fondle, although they were of a usual size, neither big or small, and in fact closer to be small, but there was something intense in the striking contrast between her snow-white skin, the brownish red-wine of her nipples and the blackness of her hair, which was surprisingly luxuriant between her legs, and that bush proved softer than silk when he touched her there while she was trying to fight him and his men off her and they were stripping her naked with savage elation. He loved the act of undressing the girl.

Then came the rape itself. A beauty! He had chosen wisely once again. This American girl was on a par with that Qing princess, a precious-skin cousin to the Empress Dowager Cixi. He had raped that princess damsel as part of a troop of Tatar riders when he was a very young man, back in 1908. That troop was allied to a Cossack regiment that had went on a daring incursion in Manchuria. That combined force went on a rampage across countrylands in a spree of rape and looting. It culminated when the Cossacks and Tatars overran a small fortress, where they found the sixteen-year-old princess there with her entourage of ladies-in-waiting. Bilduung would never forget her jiggling tits and the feel of her raped pussy, and this came after undressing her out of the most magnificent robes he had ever seen, still to this day.

This was when he became addicted to rape. He couldn’t get enough of rapes! The paler a girl’s skin, the better!

He had left June’s unbuttoned blouse flapping by her side and still covering her back, and this gave added power to her naked legs and bottom. Half-naked rape is an art. His men knew him and as soon as they saw him lying down half-way on his side, they forced June to squat down and present her butt to Bilguun’s waiting cock, and they had kept the writhing, sobbing girl positioned with her torso leaning forward and facing away from him as he raped June from that sideway, squat-banging position, and this was how she would experience her first intercourse with a Mongolian bandit.

He had so powerfully entered her! He already knew she was wet from the way she had been moving when he was sucking her breasts while his men were fingering her pussy and caressing her neck and forced-kissing her.

The whiteness of her buns under the hem of her loose blouse would always remain in his mind. She was on a par with the Qing princess! He held her waist and began driving her up and down, driving the incredible roundness of her curvy butt on his lap and just raping her like a madman! Up and down, down an up in one never-stopping motion. June’s butt in the present time became one with the Qing princess’s buns in 1908 during the aftermath of the short and bloody battle when the castle was overrun and the small garrison massacred by the Tatar warriors who then had their night and day of “celebration”.

Bilgun “the Bear of Manzhouli” banged June’s delicate flesh during the frantic session of forced sex, while the Yankee girl kept screaming and begging them to please let her sister go. He banged her until he soon reached the long-awaited state of a man who realizes he’s going to shoot a huge load and there’s no turning back. When his fuse went off inside the Yankee girl, even him was surprised by the size of his load. He just shot semen inside her, going nuts at the sight of her ever-bouncing butt and kept shooting a surprising number of fresh bolts of jism, filling up the American adventuress and shattering her life. It was completely crazy!

He was still basking in a strong post-climax bliss as he drank his arkhi and watched his men gang-raping each and every white girl or Han girl under the sunset. He had never seen such a beautiful collective rape. Bilguun prided himself on giving equal treatment to all prisoners.

Judging no pursuing party could possibly be close, he ordered to bring torches and lights near the site. This was going to be a night to remember.


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  • Reply HistBuff ID:cxtp0kz6ij

    You can do Control-F and type “rape” if you prefer to go straight into the action. This is my longest chapter ever, and it comes from my story being posted elsewhere where slow burners are more common. For this site, I felt it was best to make a chapter that ends with an orgy of gang-rapes. This is what my readers are here for!

    Thanks for the kind words! I’m glad to know that many of you enjoy this read. White sophisticated women getting captured and gang-raped in some far-away part of the world is a huge turn-on of mine.

  • Reply BRITNEY ID:1e8sh3tot8dn

    Oh HistBuff !!! I seem to have more higher scores on my stories with much shorter length stories !! (HUGS & KISSES) Britney !! sweet dreams sweetie

    • HistBuff ID:cxtp0kz6ij

      I was threading in unknown waters when I took that decision to post a very long chapter including the key moment where the white women begin getting gang-raped by the Mongols. The erotic tension comes from the huge gap between what white women thought was appropriate and what the Mongols can and will do to them.

      It is morals vs. physical possibility.

      The law of the steppe requires ALL women to be part of the booty after the successful attack of a train in Siberia.

      I am myself very surprised by that high score.

      Hugs & Kisses back. I have a chapter on the way in my Alamo story, where a Meg, the eldest of four daughters of a Yankee officer, gets gang-raped by jeering Mexican soldiers after Fort Alamo is overrun. I think you will like her nickname being Britannia.

      Britannia was well known back in 1800’s as a fair-skinned brown-haired allegory personifying Great Britain. First names such as Britanny and (1970’s) Britney stem from Britannia.

  • Reply BRITNEY ID:1e8sh3tot8dn

    HistBuff your stories are excellent and please don’t take this the wrong way, but this is way too long to read, may I suggest breaking it down to a series or continues chapters or a part 1 and 2 !! some readers might lose interest halfway through !! Britney

    • HistBuff ID:4gmi91iv3

      Thanks, Britney. Chapter length was a tough call. The problem was the time it takes before the white girls get raped, so I put together the first chapters from my version on Ravishu, where readers don’t mind it as much when there’s a developmental chapter with no sex in it.

      I could repost it with shorter chapters, but thus far, this is my highest-scoring story here (4.67 after 12 votes) so I’m probably going to leave it there, but the next chapters will all be shorter and there’s a solid heads-up for my readers at the start and parts are well separated by “***”.

  • Reply Big bad John ID:gnrrw0fzk

    In your next story you should include Britney as one of the characters. I know that she is also a fan and a lover of vintage lingerie. She would fit in nicely.

  • Reply Big bad John ID:gnrrw0fzk

    I can’t get enough of your stories Histbuff. Keep them coming!

    • HistBuff ID:4gmi91iv3

      Thanks! I felt that this chapter were too long, but lo and behold, this is by far my best-scoring story on this site in my two years here.