Several sections of the walls surrounding the city of Ya-Kana suddenly collapsed to the ground, not in ruin as the walls of Jericho had come tumbling down, but strategically, lowered very swiftly with large clanking iron chains, the way a bridge is dropped across a castle moat. The stratagem was unexpected, and as the wild Mongol hordes came thundering out on their swift little ponies, their powerful bows raining arrows upon the surprised and shocked Russian troops.
General Boris Valrenkov wondered what other surprises the devils had in store for him. Surprise attack exits from the walls of besieged cities were not unknown, but entire sections of wall dropping away to allow the sorties of cavalry was a new tactic, and an effective one. He had no time to ponder the military resourcefulness of the Mongol barbarians, he had to take swift action lest they put his army to flight. Fortunately there were only a few thousand pouring forth covered by their archers firing from the city walls. Without waiting for orders, his own heavy cavalry was riding forward to deal with the attack. Several hundred of the infantry had already fallen, and many thousands had been put to flight. The fear of these tartars was still quite strong within his men.
High on the city walls Turan Khan and the captive blonde princess he had enslaved watched the scene of carnage.
"Your countrymen are fools as ever," The Khan sneered. "We shall destroy the impetuous madmen, and then ride on to new conquests. We shall put Russia to the sword and the torch."
Princess Natasha had been bound with barbed cords to an X cross. The wood was gnarled and splintered. Spikes of the wood pierced her delicate white skin. Her body bore the streaks of hundreds of whip welts, and her nipples were distended and discolored from the rubies that had been forced into the cavities burned and gouged into them. Another ruby gleamed in her navel. The three jewels were worth a king's ransom. Dozens of pins had been thrust into her breasts and ass halves, pins that held diamonds in the heads. She was a bloodstained masterpiece of beauty, with the sun blazing in a hundred wondrous ever-changing reflections from the wealth of jewels that had been used to so foully torture her.
Natasha still held a remnant of her pride. Even though fifty Mongols had fucked her each day for six months and she had been subjected to every atrocity their ingenious and inventive minds could conceive she had not broken.
"Foul Mongol dog! Our soldiers will burn your city to the ground. Your children will be fed to the dogs, your women raped and then skinned alive. Their flayed twitching bodies will be thrown to the pigs. Your head will be bottled and I will keep it in my bedchamber as a souvenir to show to my friends at parties, when your name is recalled and amusement is in order."
He thrust his fingers into her cunt and ranked the tender inner flesh with his long nails. She grimaced but did not scream out.
"Look, you royal bitch. Already more than a thousand of your troops have fallen."
"A hundred or more remain for every man who has dropped. And the heavy, armored cavalry now sweeps your lightly-armed Mongol dogs before them."
It was true. Arrows cut down scores of Russian cavalrymen and mounts. But thousands more surged forward, and the Mongols had not yet achieved the space to maneuver that their speed and archery needed in order to obtain maximum effectiveness with their light cavalry tactics.
The Khan gave the signal to his trumpeters, who sounded the recall on their curved signal horns. The men returned to the sortie gates, which closed behind them. Dozens of Russian cavalrymen died trying to follow them in.
The toll of death was in the Mongol's favor four to one, but the Khan realized that it was a mistake for Mongols ever to fight behind walls. They were horsemen, and should ever be mounted on their swift ponies, not cowering behind stone on foot with their effectiveness reduced to that of ordinary men. It was foolishness. It was stupidity ever to build this Mongol fortress and hope to hold it.
The superior maneuverability of a Mongol was ever his chief weapon. Defense and offense were one, to fly before an overwhelming force faster than it could follow, to outflank it, to hit by surprise in the night, and always at the weak spot. Such tactics had conquered half of the known world. But now they were softened with the fruits of their conquest as other races before them had become, and they had built this ridiculous fortress city instead of depending upon the speed and stamina of their magnificent mounts.
"You will lose, mighty Khan, you will die. Ha-ha-ha!"
It amazed the Khan that the tortured bitch could still find the fortitude to laugh.
"You will not be amused for long, my dear. I have something I wish to show you."
He gave a signal. The catapults were brought forward to hurl jugs of flaming oil over the walls upon the reforming infantry coming ahead with scaling ladders against a hail of arrows from the wall. Their own arrow catapults and crude cannon hurled shot and masses of yard-long shafts back at the Mongols manning the walls.
"Look, royal bitch, at the oil containers we hurl at your friends."
The princess cried out in horror. Naked, bigbodied Russian peasant girls were being stuffed with boiling oil. The oil was poured in gallons down funnels stuffed into their throats, or stuffed and pumped up their asses. The plugged up half-dead women filled with boiling liquid were flung upon the catapults, their furry jackets set alight, and then they were shot through the air. As they hurtled into the Russian ranks they screamed and thrashed their limbs in spasmodic writhing. As they hit the ground, their broken bodies shot forth gallons of oil which ignited from the blaze that had overwhelmed their white flesh when it spread from the camel hair jackets they wore. Blazing oil from the sometimes still-living bodies of broken, blazing women exploding from assholes and mouths and cunts, and ripped open bellies. It was horrible.
Hundreds of screaming shrieking soldiers went scurrying off the field in sheer horror. It was a rout, a wild panic. The wall gates fell once more and the Mongol cavalry hurtled forth.
But as this occurred the drawn up Russian cavalry squadrons broke ranks to reveal hitherto undisclosed batteries of cannon-new cannon with large gaping barrels. The cannon hurtled a new kind of missile into the ranks of the Mongols, not crude iron balls, but hundreds of bits and pieces of iron, nails, spikes, jagged chunks of metal-grapeshot in fact. Hundreds of men and mounts went down. The remnants retreated behind the walls in panic and confusion.
"Khan, how do you find these new tactics? Methinks by and by, you'll be eating the shit of horses, pigs, cattle, and dogs as your father did before my father hung him up by his balls for the crows to eat."
The Mongol conqueror turned upon his captive prize with all of the fury of his savage race.
"Evil bitch, your own death and disgrace shall be far worse." He slashed her across the raw, gaping cunt lips with his short leather whip. She screamed and her flesh was ripped by the spikes of the cords she struggled against. He hit her again, ripping a red bloody gash across her pelvis and over her ivory thighs. The gash oozed blood, and blood ran from a split on her puffy cunt lips as well.
"Russian shit! Dung devourer! Scum! I will tear you apart slowly and thoroughly!" He tore out of her quivering flesh one of the diamond studded pins and plunged it into her armpit. Fresh blood spurted as he corkscrewed a, path into her hurting flesh. She spat in his eyes.
"Mongol fuck! Shit of the race of scum! You will all be slaughtered!"
As the one defied the other and the blood of the captive matched the bloodlust of her conqueror, the Russian generals in their tents were discussing strategy. They had been shaken by the horror of the human catapults, but they tried not to show it as they shit into the mouths of the Mongol maidens upon whose faces they sat.
General Makov poured his wine down the throat of a sputtering young Mongol girl and then dropped a flaming coal after it. He and his comrades laughed in triumphant hate as she went hurtling out into the night with flames gushing forth from her mouth.
The general moved his ass over the face of the black haired girl pinned under his enormous body, giving her a filthier part of his bottom to lick clean.
The Mongols had roasted his wife and four daughters alive on spits and forced a captured squadron of cavalrymen to eat them while yet alive, or suffer castration. Naturally the cavalrymen had eaten the women, and perhaps some of them had not found the devouring of the General's family entirely disagreeable. There was no telling, for the Mongols had slaughtered the troops as soon as the grisly repast was completed.
General Valrenkov had his own personal harem of beauties who always accompanied him. So he cared little about the raping and destruction of a few Mongol girls. He had beautiful Viking blondes, wild Cossack wenches, more than half savage, and young Turkish and Greek boys adept at cocksucking and asslicking.
His hands fondled the breasts of Nada, the wild Cossack beauty who knelt between his legs. She palmed his cock and pumped upon it slowly, churning and twisting it in her skilled hands as she rubbed her welted ass in the dirt.
"When do we finish these scum?" exclaimed one of his generals as he sliced the cheeks of a Mongol girl's ass with his knife.
"We outnumber them two to one," exclaimed a second.
Boris Valrenkov nodded. "True, but we won't outnumber them much longer if we attempt to rush those damn walls. We'll have to besiege them. They're too heavily fortified. Our great Czar, Ivan, whom these pigs call with good cause the Terrible, is laying siege to the other fortresses of the Mongols. If reinforcements do come for them, I doubt that it will be any great force. We, for our part, must do our share to bring down these walls. We must slaughter the Mongols and torture their women for the sake of holy vengeance. Our army must do its part."
"Aye, but we must be discreet and cunning. Their sally ports must be marked and carefully watched, and we must be ever ready. They must not surprise us again, great general."
"We were not the only ones who suffered a surprise. They were truly stunned by the carnage our new cannons wrought upon them."
"We shall take the city and kill them all." As General Ivan Dragomivokovitch said this, he shoved his big prick deep into the throat of a Mongol girl whose teeth had been torn out at the roots to lessen the danger she presented in cocksucking. He shot his heavy load of hot sperm into the savage girl's mouth, while the rings on his fingers skillfully ripped her cheeks to shreds.
The half-wild Cossack beauty between the great general's legs purred and made small sounds in her throat at the sight of the blood of the Mongol girl. She hated Mongols and enjoyed degrading them and tearing their women apart with her bare claws. She had a fantastic appetite for both sensuality and cruelty, and it was this aspect of her nature that most amused the general and held him interested in her.
"My little Nada is foaming in her cunt once more, gentlemen. See how the hot broth simmers in the pot between her white thighs and pours rich and foaming out of her. See the moistness of her lips, both the lips of her mouth and the lips of her cunt. See how hard and rigid her nipples are. Do you wish to see this little tempest storm over Mongol flesh?"
"Aye, aye, turn her loose on them. She rips better than the knout. Let's have our fill of the sight of the blood flowing from their torn bodies."
Nada bounded to her feet, her fingers moving about in her frothing cunt, her breasts distended and hard.
"I swear to put on a show that will be memorable, great generals. As I destroy Mongol wenches, so shall you destroy Mongol troops."
A wild, barbaric ovation and many fondling hands showed approval of her speech.
CHAPTER TWO
Nada stalked the Mongol beauty, her long nails ready to rake and slash her yellow hide, the dark-haired naked Mongol girl was no coward. She hungered for the opportunity to take one enemy with her. She lunged for Nada's eyes, but the wily Cossack bitch easily dodged her attack and ripped a series of red bleeding furrows into the girl's tits. The Mongol sprang back, shocked and dismayed at the lightning speed and elusiveness of her adversary. The nails were more akin to knives than to human nails. This Cossack witch could strip the skin from her bones with them.
"Come on, Nada, rip her to pieces. Make her flesh into ropes for our knouts!"
Nada attacked again, her hands striking out with stunning, shocking speed. She tore the Mongol beauty's tits to pieces, ripping the yellow skin. She sank her claws into the nipples, splitting them almost apart. She avoided the frenzied thrashings of her opponent's arms and then smashed a powerful fist into the girl's belly. She kicked the Mongol in the cunt, feeling the hairy black pelt crunch against her foot. She kicked the girl in the belly and then drove a heavy right hand into her face, feeling the nose crack under the hammer of her fist.
"Kill her Nada. Kill her! Tear her hair out. Rip her tits off."
The generals shouted out their hatred and it burned in her ears like fire ripping through her flesh, driving her on to fresh efforts. She ripped her claws into the soft, sweaty inner rolling folds of flesh between the girl's buttock cheeks. She clawed her thighs, her belly, her cunt. She caught the girl's arms and forced her to her knees, then turned her wrists against their sockets until they broke.
She stretched her long, wet sinuous body upon the thrashing, flailing body of her victim, laughing at the cracked wrists that rendered the girl completely helpless. She spat into the girl's mouth and forced her to swallow the spit down, hit her in the face and breast globes until blood ran from them, made herself come with great masses of hot come juice all over the girl's torso. She rubbed her hairy cunt meat into her as the generals threw jewels, coins, and bits of delicious food to her. She clawed her own tits bloody, and then rubbed her hot, greasy tits into the bloodstained boobs of the Mongol girl, biting her face to shreds as she mashed into the golden body. She drank blood from bleeding bite wounds in the Mongol girl's tits, throat, shoulders and face. Then she went completely wild and devoured the girl's nipples, chewing them with gusto, blood pouring from her mouth as she chewed up and ate the flesh. Finally, she tore off great bleeding chunks of the tit flesh and ate them, devouring her victim alive.
The wild and randy generals showered her with money as she tore apart her captive, pulling loose hunks of the meat from the gaping holes she had fanged into the girl. She tore open the girl's throat with her teeth and finished her by drinking the blood from her throat, It was a bloodcurdling display of unparalleled barbarity, but it was considered fitting and just for the Mongols, and there were none who questioned her behaviour.
The enemy had committed far worse barbarities and in an age which specialized in the infliction of mass death and inhuman torture there was no room or tolerance for softness.
"Well done, my wild little she-bear. Come here, you evil bitch, with your belly full of hot blood and warm, reeking Mongol meat. Come here and lick my boots."
The command of General Valrenkov sent the Cossack girl to his feet where she lapped his boots while running her fingers in and out of her hot cum and asshole. Cunt oil foamed out of her gaping red and raw cunt as her greedy hands tore climax after climax out of her passionate flesh.
The generals crowded around, whipping her ass, which shook and bounced in eager anticipation and hunger for every blow. They ran their heavy, calloused hands over her slippery body. She threw herself upon the floor and did a wild Cossack cunt dance for them, her pelvis arched off the floor of the tent, every inch of her torso in motion and the hairy pussy itself a blur of whirling, grinding movement. She wanted to drive them wild, to make their hot erect cocks come all over her.
Her lover read her mind as his hands dallied with the knout weals of a Mongol slave girl's lacerated torso.
"Give your seed to the little witch men. Let her know the thrill of a sperm bath of generals. Show her your power."
They jerked off all over her, and she wiped their come off her white body; scooped up the thick, white, slimy clots and cleaned the mess from her hands with her hungry tongue.
Even as the Russian generals enjoyed their first day of siege warfare, the Mongols debated the course of their campaign. Most of Turan Khan's generals were of the opinion that a mass sortie out of the city for an open confrontation was the only feasible battle plan.
"Why do we cower behind these stone walls?" asked General Togi. "We are Mongols, not Russian worms lying on our bellies. The Turkomen, The Cathayans, all our foes had walls to shiver and puke behind in dread of our troops. Of what use were these defenses? "Our horses have ridden over the remains of many cities and our divisions have crushed many nations who depended upon fortresses.
"But they out number us. Moreover, they have new weapons. I think that we would be cut to pieces before we could get out of these walls and cut our way through the ranks of their infantry. It was an error to ever let ourselves be penned up within these walls, but now we must bear with our error and fight accordingly." The words of the Khan convinced them.
An entertainment was arranged to take their minds off of their dilemma. A dozen naked, blond, magnificent Circassian girls hung from their bleeding thumbs as muscular guards whipped them front and back. Hundreds of lashes with heavy cowhide whips tore their bodies apart. The cruel and expert guards flayed breasts to blood-spurting fragments, striped their asses to shreds.
The girls shrieked and pleaded in their agony. The unheeding torturers whipped faces raw, cut open eyebrows, cheeks, facial ridges and contours. Their arms were striped from shoulder to wrist, their armpits were hammered until they ran blood down to the girl's ankles. The merciless punishment went on and on. At last, the whipped-apart bodies hung limp, dead under the shattering whips.
A dozen debased, lunatic fiends were turned loose upon the bodies. Most of the generals and officials disapproved of this degenerate practice and did not tarry to view it. Each hurried off to his own harem of slave girls, to enjoy the heat that had been generated in his body by the spectacle.
Princess Natasha was an unwilling spectator to the horror, bound with her arms screwed up behind her back and strapped with horse hide thongs to a heavy wooden pole thrust behind her shoulder blades. She knelt in a bowl filled with sharp stones and coarse gravel, with grains of the hurting material shoved up her raw, bleeding asshole. Her tits had been filled with pins and darts by the coarse Mongols, who had amused themselves while they devoured their food, by inflicting tortures upon her. One of them had thrust several chicken bones up into her cunt.
The Khan opened her mouth and shoved his greasy cock into it. He forced the princess to give him a magnificent cocksucking, her aristocratic head bobbing back and forth, her hair streaming and tumbling wildly as she sucked away at his powerful shaft. He decided that the haughty and arrogant bitch was evidently a great devotee of the art in her private life, for she showed such an aptitude for it that she must have had previous practice.
"Your forces will be destroyed. After that I shall ride on through your lands. I'll burn and loot your personal estates, and ravage your sisters and mother. Then I'll bring your defeated family here and train you dogs to copulate with one another. Mother fucking son, daughters fucking brothers and licking the cunt of their miserable bitch dog of a mother. I'll break you arrogant Cherkovitchs down and grind you into the dirt."
As he ranted on in ecstatic vision of villainous atrocities, his cock erupted into her quivering. sucking mouth. His foul load of barbarian seed shot down her tender throat, completing her degradation.
The Khan staggered away from her, feeling still randy and incredibly cruel. He seized a branding iron from the fire and shoved it into the cleft between the huge breasts of Sofi, one of the maidservants captured with the princess. It seared black the soft ivory, smoking flesh. Streams of sweat shot through the pores of her skin as the heat blasted into her and blackened a voluptuous section of the flesh between her tits. It was horrible. The girl's anguished cries wrenched at the heart of the princess.
"You yellow skinned monster. Isn't it enough that you torture me without harming my poor innocent maidservants as well?"
"None of your people are innocent, bitch. This slut has been using her mouth on your cunt for as long as she could open and close it. At least my people are not as degenerate as yours."
"Barbarian scum!"
"Degenerate whore!"
He brought the hot iron down to the body of the quivering and spasming girl until it touched and singed the wild thatch of hair spiraling up from her dense pussy bush.
"Aaaaiiiieeeee!"
"Her screams are as loud as yours, Princess Natasha, although lacking in your royal quality of course."
The cruel Mongol plucked at one of the maid's nipples and twisted it around in his fingers, mauling it cruelly. Dissatisfied with his slow progress at breaking the resistance of the princess, he intended to subject her to the sight of her fellow countrywomen in the throes of unbearable torment. He pulled at the tit, stretching the tender nipple, pulling the tit out to its fullest possible stretch before he picked up another hot iron and drew a blackened, seared spiral around the burned bud.
The girl fainted. But, the Mongol tyrant was not yet finished with her. He took up his strong and sturdy bow, moving around behind her. The princess stared at him in dread, thinking he meant to slay the servant girl.
"Please spare her, mighty Khan."
"You have an affection for her despite your aristocratic haughtiness, I see. Never fear, she has yet to meet her doom, much to her regret." With a shallow pull on the bow the Mongol sent an arrow thudding into the girl's rump. Blood leaked from the wound, and the arrow quivered in the shaking white mass as spasms shot through the girl's body. She screamed and lunged against her bonds.
The Kan put another arrow to his bowstring, and fired it into the twin hemispheres of the girl's rump. The arrowhead vanished into the white meat, channeling a deep hideous path through the tender ivory flesh.
"I have other arrows as well, Princess Natasha,"
"Mercy, you scum bastard."
His evil laugh responded to her hate filled words of pleading. "That is not the way to beg supplication from me, you royal bitch."
Natasha's pride flared up. She spat on the floor. "I want no favors from you, inhuman scum. I hope to see the vultures pick your bones clean. I will personally hang you by your testicles and cock while my servants pluck out your toenails. Then I will plunge white hot needles into the bleeding raw wounds as the soles of your feet are scraped away with dull knives. I beg nothing of you, miserable dog."
"Then do not blame me for what occurs." Saying this he fired an arrow cleverly aimed right into the cleft between the girl's buttocks. The arrow missed the anus but gouged into the crack line between her cheeks, just below the puckered opening of her asshole. A scream burst from her mouth that could not be described or believed. She passed out, spilling blood from her mouth. The arrow vibrated in her shivering bottom which emptied a reeking pile of dung out onto the floor.
"I wager," the Khan crowed," that she is the only bitch in this city with two assholes."
CHAPTER THREE
The cruelty of the Khan was duplicated by his terrible men. His generals were the worst of the lot. Kubia Yag was typical of them, a maniac who thrived upon the destruction of alien beauties. He enjoyed use of the horsewhip and the three-tailed camel hide lash, the sword with the skinning blade, and the red hot breast-ripping pincers.
After the conference with his Khan he retired to his quarters, where his personal guards had tied together half a dozen golden-haired Hungarian girls for his pleasure. The fiend stalked around the bound bundle of human flesh, striking at will and whipping bloody pieces from soft bodies. There was a continual clanking of chains as they desperately moved about to the limits of their paltry capabilities trying to avoid his tortures. But he ripped them apart, sinking the whip into quivering rolls of bottom fat, tearing long red bleeding slashes into the buttocks. He hurled handfuls of coarse salt into the torn flesh, bit into the lacerations and slashed the quivering tail cheeks to ribbons with his dagger.
He touched the point to one sleek rounded hip, turning the blade to scoop up a line of sweat streaming down the padded hip as his knife cut a shallow gash into the skin. Then, with his blood lust aroused, he sliced the ass wide open from hip to hip, across the span of both rounded buttocks, all the way down to the crease line. He watched the blood drip downward in a dozen places from the long red line cut across the bottom globes. Then he gripped a handful of the white meat and cut a dozen vicious slices across the line, up and down the smooth contours of her bottom.
"Dog, bitch, I'll rip you to pieces!" He fell upon the maddened, screaming pack of bound women, cutting up their soft bottoms. He sliced up their backs, along their spines, from ass to neck. He sliced them from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. He carved characters of Chinese writing into their thighs and asses, and sliced away small bits, thin slices, of ass flesh which he sauted and ate before the eyes of the horrified and butchered girls.
He sounded a gong for his servants, who came in and dragged away the bleeding package of flesh to be salvaged and repaired for a future ordeal.
"Bring me Kasha!"
His favorite slave girl was summoned, a fantastic beauty naked save for her golden chains. Her long growth of golden hair trailed to the floor, contrasting with her shaven pussy, a whim of General Yag.
"Feed me, slut."
She obeyed his commands, popping delicate morsels into his reeking mouth from out of her own. It sickened her to feed the bastard from her own mouth, and this increased his own evil pleasure.
"Do you enjoy this service, girl?" As he spoke his hands fondled her shorn cunt and huge, beautiful breasts. He thrust his fingers into her front and back, then bit into her tits, drinking blood from the tears his sharp teeth had inflicted upon her.
A whipping followed. As she licked his high boots, he sliced her tail to pieces. Her ass rose and swayed as she presented it to meet the descent of his whip as he preferred her to do.
When she walked out of the chamber before him, with blood running from her chopped-up ass, his hands groped all over her smooth curvaceous magnificence. He slapped her rump wickedly and pulled away a few loose fragments of skin. He held her against him, his huge prick straining at the leather drawstrings of his horsehide trousers. He rubbed her lacerated ass into the front of his pants, grinding her tail into his groin as they walked toward his personal torture chamber.
Within that terrible hellhole a number of girls were undergoing ordeals of hideous agony. The general had profited from his study of ancient and subtle Chinese methods, diluting the wild savagery of Mongol techniques with the subtle techniques of the ancient tortures of Cathay.
A girl lay spread-eagled upon a round, spiked table. Within her wide open and gaping cunt had been thrust a large, round ivory ball. The presence of the ball within her orifice was becoming more and more unbearable. Adding to her discomfort were scores of itching stinging fleas trapped within her chamber under the ball. She foamed at the mouth with the anguish of her ordeal.
Another girl was spread-eagled in mid-air, hanging from chains. Great weights had been hung from her tits by loops of fine, thin chain drawn deep into the bases of her tits. The two globes were purple, congested packages of blood-engorged flesh, hanging from elongated fingers of tit meat which had been almost sundered by the tightening chain nooses. From holes gouged through her nipples other weights hung. Her cunt lips had been pierced by needles, and she screamed with the horrified voice of the damned.
Kasha shuddered at the hideous spectacles and snuggled back against the general, pleasuring him with the motion of her tail, lest she fall into disfavor and suffer the fate of the others. He recognized her ploy, and slyly picked up a red-hot needle in his gloved hands. He stabbed it through one of her breasts without any warning. She fell at his feet, screaming for mercy and commenced licking and sucking his boots.
"Have no fear, my beauty. I have no intention of using you up. But I do intend to see just how much pain you can truly withstand."
He clapped his hands and his two torturers sprang forward to seize her. They ran greedy, lascivious hands over her sweaty body, enjoying the pleasure of inflicting pain upon the wretched girl. She begged the general, reminding him of the pleasure she had given him, promising him even greater pleasure and satisfaction. But he was adamant, determined to make her suffer. He ordered the two to fasten iron shackles about her wrists and suspended her from the ceiling.
An iron collar was locked around her neck, and from this a chain connected to an iron band about her waist. It was studded along the inside with cruel spikes which sank into her tender white skin.
"Use the burning splinters upon her. I want to know how much courage the wench has!"
Kasha could not decide whether she would gain more by screaming with all of her might or by showing courage and stamina during the ordeal. It was hard to interpret the general's evil face.
Iron balls were hung from her feet; heavy balls which dragged upon her, stretching her body out, tugging apart the sockets of her joints as she hung in her cruel bondage.
The splinters were put into use. One of the guards stood behind her, lashing her rump with a bamboo cane, slapping stinging pain into her lacerated and still bleeding hindquarters. Then the other torturer used the splinters. He selected with care, choosing a long splinter which he picked up with copper tweezers and thrust into the white-hot coals. Then he shoved the splinter into the corona of Kasha's left nipple.
The skin smouldered and sizzled as the burning splinter burrowed into her flesh.
"Owwaaaaiii-eeee."
She threw her head from side to side. The pain was unbearable and it was but the first of the splinters.
"Cowardly Russian pig. Mongol women are able to bear dozens of burning splinters without a sound."
But they were insensitive barbarians inured to pain and hardship. She strove to keep silent as the second splinter was thrust under her toenail, and succeeded in this.
Yag pulled at one of her nipples, pinched the tender pink flower, and palmed the breast for the torturer.
"Thrust another into this nipple!"
A third splinter was shoved into her nipple. She threw back her head and emitted horrible piercing screams of pain. The splinter broke off in her breast.
A fourth bamboo splinter was chosen for a more tender portion of her anatomy. This one was shoved into the lip of her cunt, into the soft and vulnerable outer vaginal lip, inflicting a pain beyond her apprehension. And all of the time the whip continued to rise and fall, rise and fall, upon her savage bottom.
Bamboo splinters began to fill her brutalized hide. Under her toenails, into her armpits, into her breasts. Rings of burning splinters marked the coronas of her nipples and were thrust into all of her sensitive parts. Even the inner sheath of her cunt, close to the inner and outer labia lips, was pierced by splinters shallowly dipped into her cunt. Foam flecked the lips of the unfortunate Kasha.
"She takes it better than one would expect, does she not, Malik?"
"Aye, your Excellency," replied the torturer. "That she does my lord."
"Let me hear these other bitches scream." Splinters were rammed into the breasts of the girl strapped to the circular spiked table. She was a quivering mass of white flesh and shattered nerves. The torturer bound loops of strong leather around her breasts, vicious nooses which were tied to chains suspended from a pulley in the ceiling. Then the fiend pulled upon the chains, exerting all of his strength to hank out and elongate the tips, tearing at the masses of white flesh binding tit to torso, sinking the leather deep into the flesh which gave and gave under the tightening as the swollen breasts were almost wrenched from the pathetic sufferer's body. The torturer tugged at the stubborn, resistant breasts, two teardrop sacks of bloated, crimson flesh upon long, creased tentacles of flesh. He lifted his body into the air and hung with his full weight from the rope attached to her breasts for a few horrible moments.
"You do have a delightful way of torturing these Russian bitches," complimented the malevolent general.
The other victim was hysterical with terror from the sight of what her companion had undergone. Her turn came next. A lighted torch was moving about under her tail, the white bottom flesh blistering and sizzling with the close application of the heat.
"Burn her tail raw! I think I might have rump of pig for my supper."
The torch was moved and turned about under the cheeks of the ass. The white flesh turned charcoal dark and scarlet red. The girl clanked and rattled her chains in a violent death dance, hanging in her bondage. The weights hung from her tits jumped and bounced under the movements of her body, which could not carry her clear of the fire.
Kasha groaned at the horrible spectacle of her countrywomen's suffering. She prayed for the speedy destruction of Ya-Kana and all its defenders.
The general seized generous handfuls of her bottom globes and fondled the bloodstained flesh.
"You see, silly child, there are far worse things that you could suffer if you were not in my favor."
The warning was more than clear.
"Kiss my boots you female dog, and suck my cock while I enjoy this performance."
She was released from her bondage to grovel in terrible pain at the feet of her conqueror. At his command her mouth traveled up and down his boots as she fervently tongued every inch of leather, hoping to avoid displeasing him.
The general opened his leather trousers and motioned her to take his huge shaft into her mouth. She fondled his skin pants, kissed the material, and touched her mouth again and again to his erect prick, at last taking it into her mouth. As she worked upon his thing the other two suffered anguish for his amusement. Red-hot shavings of bamboo, sizzling and sparkling, were placed between the tits of the woman fastened to the table, and into the pit of her belly as well. A burning splinter was wedged into the center of each nipple, while others were stuck into her armpits.
Her elongated, bruised, and almost amputated breasts were mauled and handled by the grim-faced torturer who took open delight in hurting her.
The other girl was tortured as well. A wooden bar was thrust up her ass, hammered and wedged into the tight channel. Up it traveled, inch by inch, reaming out and enlarging the stubborn hole as it passed up into her. It was fastened in place and yet another instrument was shoved up her gaping, raw cunt, an iron phallus, covered with short pain-provoking studs was forced up into her. It was hammered into place, every blow of the hammer sending shattering waves of anguish through the poor victim.
Kasha knelt before the barbaric tyrant and sucked his big cock, eager to avoid the fate of her unfortunate friends. She rammed the thing in and out of her mouth, tongue stroking it as she worked, letting it move almost out of her mouth, and then pulling back sharply when all but the head had been dislodged, to bring it all back within her sucking mouth. She heard the horrible screams almost as if the voices were shrieking directly into her ears, and tears rolled down her cheeks unnoticed by the brute. His attention was riveted upon the girls who suffered at his command.
They were whipped bloody; the oxhide whips tearing great scarlet stripes into their bodies. They were by now delirious with suffering and scarcely responded to the sting of the whips.
As the girls slowly lapsed into unconsciousness, the abused Kasha felt the organ stiffen and then it shot its slime into her throat. As she drank it down she rolled her green eyes up toward him to give thanks for his benevolence in sparing her further torment; all of the time hoping that she would one day have the opportunity to cut his bastardly heart out.
CHAPTER FOUR
The siege progressed with diminishing success and fading prospects for the besieged. The Mongols were not at their best in positional warfare and every day they suffered heavy losses from the catapults and cannon of the foe surrounding their walls. They were also able to inflict damage upon their enemy, but they could see from the walls the places where the besiegers had begun to tunnel under their city. Their sorties, however desperate, could not break through the surrounding ranks, or drive back a single battalion. A few night attacks and infiltrations inflicted losses upon the Russians, but it was apparent with whom the advantage and ultimate victory lay. The tunnels were advancing, and when they had burrowed under them, the walls would be breeched by the explosion of gunpowder. Only if the Mongols could correctly estimate the point at which the tunnel would channel under the walls could the Russian tactic be countered. But there was little chance of this, if the tunnels were deep enough.
The Khan took his wrath out upon his prisoners. Thousands of slaves suffered the sting of the whip and the fire of slaves suffered the sting of the whip and the fire of the hot iron. No mercy whatsoever was shown to them.
Princess Natasha continued to taunt her foe with the evident doom awaiting him, and she suffered his vengeance for it. He considered for a time slicing her tongue out, but decided against it.
He gripped her tits in his hands, mauling and mangling the whip-streaked, bloodied meat. The globes heated in his hands as one of his dark eyed daughters sucked at the princess's cunt, sucking the hot gushing quim juices. The princess could not prevent her erupting passionate reaction to this pleasure from overcoming her detestation of the Mongols. The skilled Mongol girl chewed and mouthed the puffy, full and ripe sex lips. The sex flesh and come juices mingled with her overabundant saliva. And as this pleasure was dealt to the princess the Khan whipped her raw and scarred back to a bleeding jellied pulp. He ground his claws into the tortured flesh and wrung handfuls of her body between his fingers, splashing the blood from her wounds.
"Russian inferior wench. I will teach you the folly of mocking me!"
His wild, evil daughter, Yarna, spat the rich and sumptuous cunt juice into the princess's mouth. She raked the tits to bits with her claws, scratching and sawing the nipples raw, slowly clawing away every bit of nipple skin until the stripped down skinned raw crimson nipples were hidden by spurting blood. Then the two evil Mongols chewed and gnawed the flayed nipples as the princess exploded with anguish, foam splashing from her gaping and screaming mouth in her extremity of suffering. They drank the blood through her raw, skinned nipples, and ground their fingers up her two sex tunnels.
General Boris Valrenkov surveyed an assault upon the walls of the city with scaling towers. The catapulted skins filled with blazing Greek fire set most of his towers alight before they could be wheeled up to the walls. Two of them blazing from wheel to topmost beam reached the walls to disgorge their hordes upon the battlements amidst a shower of Mongol shafts. The broad and straight Russian swords clashed with the long and somewhat curved Mongol blades. But the assault failed. The men upon the battlements could not hold against heavy odds long enough for substantial reinforcements to scale the walls. No matter, the mines extending toward the walls deep underground would do the trick.
The general wondered at the fate of his kinswoman, his cousin, the princess Natasha Valrenkov. He must rescue her if at all possible. His uncle had pledged one hundred thousand rubles if she was returned to him safe and alive.
If rescued, she would barely be alive. Upon the battlements he had seen her, naked and spread upon a wooden X cross, the whips of the Mongol butchers scarring her magnificent body. Well, he would make them all pay.
Nada rubbed her naked body against his. Her hairy, pussy throbbed with love and excitement as the oil gushed out of it to stain his trousers. Annoyed, he flailed her whip-wealed ass with his quirt and she shut her eyes in ecstasy, doing an abandoned whip dance of lust, enjoying the play of the lash upon her flesh. It was difficult to keep a rage against such a splendid creature, and he sent her off to indulge in the sucking of a platoon of Cossack horsemen. After that she could indulge in the torture of Mongol prisoners.
Her mouth brimming with hot jism, which ran down the cleavage between her tits to thread and wind into the wild growth of her black cunt bush, an hour later Nada headed for the torture pits in which the Mongol prisoners were slowly destroyed to satisfy the lust for vengeance of their conquerors.
Nada selected a tall, young Mongol warrior. His arrogant and unflinching eyes proclaimed to her his contempt and scorn for her kind and his dedication to remaining silent and unafraid despite the ordeals she intended to subject him to. Nada appreciated a challenge. The tougher the opponent, the worthier the victory when she reduced him to a screaming, pathetic shell.
Two of her friends sucked him dry first. Their wild mouths drained the jism out of his nuts as she toyed with his ass, jeering at his manhood as she irreverently thrust fingers up his ass and handled his buttocks the way a male handled the soft ass flesh of a woman. He resented her contemptuous handling of his manhood and shouted out his hatred in every Cossack or Russian curse that he knew.
In his own language, as his come and strength were being simultaneously drained out of him, she compared him unfavorably to a eunuch and recited to him the catalogue of sex perversions he had committed with his mother. She laughed as she described the orgies his sister participated in with horses and dogs. His face went wild as he attempted to tear loose from his bonds and get at her, ripping up his skin as he tried. As he lay spent and exhausted, the cruel Cossack beauty summoned two tall, bearded, Azerbaijani Muhammadans who took turns fucking the howling young man's ass, destroying forever his pride in his warriorhood and manliness. As he sobbed and howled out at his unbearable humiliation the heartless, hating Cossack beauty began the further torture.
One by one, she pulled out his toenails with tweezers. He had no reserves of spirit left to remain silent and strong under the ordeal. He screamed every time the tweezers locked upon another nail to yank it from his tortured foot. She pulled every one of his toenails off, and stomped upon his bleeding, scourged feet.
"Where is your courage, warrior? Where is your manhood? Is this how a Mongol bears up under punishment? You are a weakling!"
She opened his mouth and spat into it, again and again. The other girls also spat their saliva down his throat, and crushed his testicles in their barbaric hands. They punched him, kicked him. They clawed their names into his flesh, and whipped him with the knout until his body was hideously striped from neck to toes. They whipped his ass until strips of flesh hung from it, and then they whipped the torn bottom with chains. The iron links slashed the yellow meat to torn pulp.
She began to tear his teeth out of their sockets with pliers, one by one.
"Are you a skilled dentist?" asked one of her laughing companions.
"Not yet, but I should have the skill for dentistry when I've finished with this fool."
"May I try one?"
"I could not refuse you."
The girl selected a bicuspid and wrenched it out with one brutal heave. Blood splashed all over her from the gap-toothed mouth.
Every tooth was torn out one by one, ripped from the gums by the roots. They shoved his teeth up his ass as they worked upon him, and his suffering was thrilling to behold. But Nada felt herself tiring of the sport. She wanted fresh meat to play with. And so she ended the session by shoving an iron bar up his ass, ramming the hard enamel teeth further up his bottom.
She left her two comrades to finish him off. She went off to the Mongol slave girl harem to find female flesh to mangle and destroy.
At that moment the Princess Natasha was undergoing her daily ordeal. The punishment inflicted by Turan Khan and his daughter had been a mere prelude to her daily ordeal of agony.
Forty lusty young Mongol warriors fucked her in the mouth. One by one they thrust their large peckers into her aristocratic jaws and shot loads of hot jism down her throat. Yarna spurred them on to excesses of mouth fucking with her whip slashing the hard yellow buttocks as they drove their things in and out of Natasha's ass. She suffered and choked. Great rivers of seed rolled and dripped out of her mouth to coat her tits and throat. It flooded the valley between her breasts. After the mouth rape had been completed, another captive Russian slave girl was compelled to lick her body clean as she was subjected to the discipline of the lash.
They hung the princess up by her wrists in the dungeon. A seven-foot-tall brute with masses of knotted muscles tore her hide raw with his bare hands. Great, apelike hands knotted and crushed her white flesh, squeezing the blood out of the raw, unhealed wounds covering her form from neck to toe. She screamed as he poked his huge fingers into her, his six inch long fingers reaming her out, frigging her raw hot gash until every drop of her lubricant fluid had been squeezed from her body.
Still her tormenters were not satisfied. They turned her upside down and pressed the neck of a wineskin into the puckered, tight opening of her asshole. They flooded her internals with the wine, laughing as they administered the bizarre enema to the sickened, cringing aristocrat.
"Where are your haughty, hateful words now, witch? Why do you not shriek curses at me, and condemn me for my inhumanity? Have I finally found the way to silence your bitch's tongue?"
"Aaaeeee! Aaaahhh! Never, you Mongol shit! I'll live to see your head carried upon a spear, and the dogs will fight over your sliced-off prick. " Her taunts and defiance threw him into a rage. He slashed her cunt with a chain, whipping the hairy, come-stained gash meat until threads of red blood ran down her white sweat-mucked body, and every nerve and muscle in her body spasmed and twitched. The links of metal slammed into her tender, hairy sex parts and slashed the scarlet threads and drops of blood out of her. The maddened Turan Khan frothed at the mouth, his blazing and bulging eyes insane with fury, as he came near to destroying the captive beauty in his hate-madness.
He dropped the heavy chain, red with the blood of his captive. She would not escape from his talons so easily. He fondled the bleeding and lacerated gash, the lips flecked with blood and her forced-out sex oil. He put his mouth to the damaged vessel and drank of its nectar and blood. He tongued the raw and whipped pussy, nestling his beard in her wild thatch of fine hair.
He had her taken down, a quivering half-annihilated thing that crawled up to him, for the first time frightened beyond her capacity for resistance and defiance, eager to secure herself within his grace. She licked his thigh-high, calfhide boots, tonguing every inch of the leathery material, sobbing and babbling for remission of her torture.
"Are you ready to renounce your cursed Russian heritage and swear loyalty to me? Are you ready to be my plaything, you Russian harlot?" His words returned her spirit to her.
"Never, you scum. I hope to see the day of your death, It's what keeps me alive!"
He kicked her in the belly, in the ribs, in the soft, bleeding V between her thighs. He might have killed her in this manner, no one attempting to stop him, were it not for the sudden sound of a volley of cannon against the north wall.
"It sounds as if the dogs are attempting an assault. I'll see to our defenses. Keep this pig in constant agony. Let her not again forget who is the master. Flog her raw, brand her, keep that ample cunt of hers busy with Mongol lustiness. Place her on her belly and let the men ride her ass all day long. Keep fucking her asshole until it is ready to come off. Break her spirit for me! I want her to crawl. I want her to beg."
The Mongol tyrant and his retinue of guards made their way to the north wall where a brisk assault was in progress. The Khan had been stimulated by his exploits in the torture chamber and he himself headed a force that met the shock of an attack from the enemy siege engines. The Russians poured from their wheeled assault tower to meet a wall of Tartar steel. Turan Khan himself cut down several of the foes. The attack was repulsed, with heavy casualties to the Russians.
Even more gratifying to the sadistic warlord, several captives were taken. They would regret that they had not perished swiftly upon the field of battle when they slowly died under the tortures of the Mongols.
General Boris Valrenkov stood upon a prominent hill watching his attack fail. He had hoped that this one might succeed, but the failure did not daunt him. The city would fall when the explosives set off in the tunnels dug beneath the walls breeched them. Starvation would also take toll of the defenders' strength. The Mongols had food for only another month on half rations. They could cut down on their consumption, but the women and children would soon start to perish. If they cut the rations of the troops as well, it would sap their warriors' strength. The Mongols were not patient in the waging of siege war, at least not when they were the besieged. The situation might provoke them to sorty full strength from the city where they could be destroyed.
Nada knelt at the general's feet, sucking his cock. He flicked a knout over her back, gouging red streaks into the white skin. He flogged her eager rump which bounced and wiggled in anticipation of the lash.
His fellow generals sat comfortably upon a living hill of Mongol girls. They leisurely drank vodka and ate succulent delicacies while playing with the living pile of suffering flesh they best rode. Fingers plunged into raw and abused cunts. Whips slashed small yellow breasts to pieces and carved maps of blood into rounded, firm bottoms.
A short distance away five Mongol wenches hung by their tits from the limbs of trees, screaming in agony as their orbs were strangled and stretched by the nooses sinking into the golden meat. Torturers touched red-hot irons to their bellies, flayed their bottoms with rawhide whips until strips of meat hung from the lacerated and mangled flesh.
General Makov pressed his big ass over the face of a choking Mongol girl as he broke the toes of a small and dainty foot jutting up out of the mass, cracking them brutally one by one.
"Another failure," he grumbled. "The men grow restive."
Valrenkov shrugged. "I never claimed that it would be easy. This city is a hard stone to break. But water can erode away the strongest stone, drop by drop. No relief for them is coming, and none will come. We will be victorious in the end."
Then he threw back his head and laughed in ecstasy as the wild Cossack girl drew another inch of his long and rampant, hard and horny, cock into her throat and sucked the jism out of it, drinking the spurting fluid down to the last drop. Satisfied with her more than magnificent performance, the general dismissed her with a love lash across the bouncy ass cheeks. She ran off to the screaming, moaning hill of Mongol girl flesh. She leaped through the air and landed as agile as a cat upon the living hill. She sank her claws into the massed, sweat-greased, bloodstained bounty of enemy flesh, raking torsos from neck to crotch, ripping cunt meat bloody, mangling and marring bottom globes. She rolled over and over across the heaving, writhing hell mountain, biting into the suffering flesh. She bit into tits until her mouth filled with jetting blood. She bit cunts, asses, bellies, and thighs. She tore off hunks of meat and ate them, leaving bleeding holes in tits and asses. She drank the rich, salty blood. She taloned and fanged the flesh until the Mongols screamed in a babble of Mongolian, Russian, and Cossack for the mercy of death. She ignored their noises, rolling from intertwinings of bodies to limbs thrusting up out of the chained and bound pile to crack fingers, toes, wrists and ankles.
Seeing that the sport was growing stale, the great general motioned his comrades to leave the tortured mountain. Nada was in a hate frenzy and had to be forcibly dragged away from her prey. Valrenkov gave the signal to a squad of archers standing by. Burning arrows shot through the air to land in the shrieking tangle of flesh. Soon the entire collection of bodies was riddled with the blazing bolts and burned fiercely, a pyre that was clearly visible to the defenders on the walls. They had terrorized the besiegers with displays of cruelty and now the treatment was being returned to them.
"Good riddance," Nada chortled. She licked Valrenkov's ass in an excess of happiness.
"You do enjoy seeing those barbarians suffer, my beauty. You have a right to that, considering that they wiped out most of your family. Hate is the fuel that wars are fought with."
The Khan upon his battlements was an enraged witness to the deaths of his countrywomen. He clenched his fists in helpless wrath. There was nothing to be done about it. But when aid arrived he would destroy this foe to the last man. He could not believe that the main Mongol forces would not be victorious against the armies of the upstart, Tsar Ivan the Terrible.
He returned to the chamber where the voluptuous princess was being tortured. Come dripped in massive quantities between her thighs, out of the gaping, reamed-out crater of her asshole. It was wide open, two inches across and as he watched yet another soldier mounted the blood smeared royal rump and plunged his cock into her asshole. The soldier fucked the hole, slamming his prick in and out in a wild frenzy, shrieking Mongol warcries into the ravaged girl's ear.
"I trust this is to your liking, your highness?"
Turan Khan held his stomach as he laughed. He rocked with merriment, watching her white body twitch and writhe while the wild rider screwed her bottom.
Two beauties in fur and leather costumes which showed off their ample endowments entered the torture chamber. They were his daughters, Yarna and Yagii, two of the cruelest tormenters within the walls of Ya-Kana. Their boots were human skin, flayed from the jerking, blood-coated bodies of young, virgin, peasant girls who had to die in agony to form the splendid boots of the Khan's evil daughters.
"How did the battle go, my father?" enquired Yagii, bowing ceremoniously to her father as her sister did likewise.
"The battle went well today. We drove them back with great slaughter. I myself killed several of them. We took prisoners as well."
His daughters' eyes shone with interest and malice. "May we have them, honored father," asked Yarna.
"Of course, my child. There are five unwounded captives. I think a few of them possess the strength to give you an interesting time." Yarna walked over to the suffering princess. She caressed the long blond hair and fondled the balls of the warrior who buggered the princess' ass.
"I would appreciate this wench when you've finished with her, honorable father."
The Khan stroked his beard.
"I will reserve that decision. Now go, my daughters. Amuse yourselves with our cowardly foes."
CHAPTER FIVE
The Khan's daughters were assisted by burly torturers with bulging, knotted muscles. The naked flesh of the torturers and the prey shone in the flickering firelight, thrilling the sadistic, regal, young girls.
Yagii ran a fish skinning knife up and down the rounded bottom of a young warrior strung up by his toes and fingers, while her sister plucked out patches of his beard and bristling moustache. Despite his fierce aspect he screamed like a baby as the knives scraped away the skin of his ass and the blood dripped from the flayed globes to clot in the dirt beneath his dangling body.
"No courage in this one," complained Yagii.
She preferred a subject with spirit.
Yarna thrust two tapers up his asshole and lighted them. As he screamed and tried to eject the blazing wood she pulled down with her weight upon his feet, sinking the cords which held him suspended in the air deep into his flesh. Blood oozed from under his toenails as she twisted the toes and sank the rope deep into the blackening flesh.
"He screams worse than a woman."
Yagii tore out his moustache, ripping it loose with a few furious tugs, twisting the long, greasy hairs around her strong fingers. She plucked at his hair, his beard, his eyebrows. She shoved the hair into his nostrils, crammed it down his throat, stuffed it into his ears. Then she thrilled to his mad animal screams as the flame of the two tapers burned down to his flesh and seared his asshole.
The other four cringed in their bonds, awaiting their own turns. The burly, muscle packed torturers fondled their bodies, thrust fingers into them, obscenely played with their genitals.
Yarna shoved her bare ass into the face of one of the Russian prisoners.
"Kiss it, you dog. Kiss it well and perhaps I will grant you some tender mercy."
The prisoner was more than willing to perform such a service for clemency. He shoved his tongue through the puckered gate of her asshole and into the spicy tunnel. He shoved it in and out, ran it along the track between her two openings, the front and back orifices.
Yarna smeared her bouncy cheeks along his face.
"You do well, swine. I will keep my pledge to show you clemency." She gestured to her smirking sister. "I promised clemency to this pig. Therefore I shall not touch him. But I promised nothing in your name. So show him what you can do."
The soldier screamed as the laughing, lynx-eyed Yagii kicked him in the testicles. She snatched up a hot poker and ran it along his torso from neck to hip, burning a long, thick, smoking, black trench into his pathetic body.
" Aaaiiieeeeeeee! " His tortured scream filled the air, merging with the agonized cries of the first Russian victim, whose skinned, bleeding ass was now being roasted over a brazier filled with hot coals. Sparks shot up from the brazier to glow upon his flayed rump. A few danced upon his hairy balls and long penis.
Two of the Russians were bound face-to-face, their sweat greased bodies oozing a mixture of sweat and blood as the horsehide whips were turned upon them. They writhed in anguish. One screamed and screamed, but the other bit his lips bloody and refused to emit any sound except for an occasional grunt when Yagii flailed his back with a particularly powerful lash blow.
"Have we found one of the dogs with a degree of courage comparable to our own?"
She whipped him with chains, the heavy links sinking into his mangled back and bottom. He ground his teeth until blood ran from between them, and the tips were scraped away as the plates ground together. But still he refused to scream. His companion in the barbaric chain whipping was far more vocal, screaming at the top of his lungs hoping it would please and placate the violent daughters of the Khan. He hated his stubborn, silent companion, whose insistent fortitude was increasing both of their sufferings.
"Scream you bastard! I am an officer, you pig. I command you to scream. Aaaiiiee!"
Yagii came up behind him and ran a red-hot poker into the channel between his buttocks, sweeping it along the cleft and over the wrinkled, brown opening of his asshole.
"Coward, the other one should be the officer. Not a shit such as you." She turned to two of the hulking assistants. "Unlock this stubborn one from this sniveling dog. A brave man should not suffer in contact with a weakling."
As this was accomplished the stubborn captive, his mangled back and ass dripping copious quantities of blood, lunged at the two girls, knocking aside the burly guards with a surprising reserve of power, determined to rip them apart before he was downed.
Yagii had half read his intention in his eyes as she had him freed from his bondage, and she was ready for him. She lashed him across the face and chest, driving him back with flesh-tearing blows. Bits of flesh and skin were torn from his lacerated body, his nose crumbled and his teeth exploded to fragments. He reeled and staggered back as Yarna added her fury to her sister's and the two stark naked, dark-eyed witches whipped him to bloody bits. He went down a broken thing, with the whips and chains flailing his flesh apart. Blood flowed everywhere from deep gashes and gaping cuts.
Yagii kicked him in the balls. He doubled up, clutching at his shocked testicles and giving the triumphant torturesses a good look at his bloodied face, all smashed up.
"Let us leave this dog for now, and work on these others. I want to hear all of these pieces of shit scream for pardon and mercy."
Yagii agreed to her sister's suggestion. They had the fifth prisoner doubled up over a spiked framework. The spikes gouged into his belly as the muscular and massive assistants bore down upon him with their weight. A wooden pole was shoved up his ass, slowly penetrating, inch by inch. When the pole could be shoved up into him no further, the end was implanted in the dirt, and the dirt packed down, so that the slightest movement triggered full and unbearable agony in his body. He was impaled, a prisoner upon an ass-splitting spit. Then, they went to work on him, tearing off bits of skin from his ass with tweezers, ripping fingernails and toenails half loose, forcing his twitching body to shake and move until the pole rode wild up and down in his asshole until blood ran down the length of it.
They ended by burning his chest simultaneously with two branding irons, blackening the smoking flesh, cooking the heavy thatches of hair upon his chest with a diabolical and calculated cruelty that knew no impediment of mercy or compassion. The girls had no more empathy for the suffering of a Russian than they expected the enemy to have for them.
CHAPTER SIX
The siege wore on in a tiresome way. Hunger began to assail the defenders, and the rations were cut further. Few scouts or messengers were able to break through the Russian lines with communications or reports. The two sides harassed each other, the Russians launching attacks against the walls and the Mongols retaliating with fast, hard hitting horseback sorties.
The two sides increased the intensity of their brutality to captives. For the Russians, it afforded an opportunity to play upon the nerves of the enemies, for the Mongols it was a method with which to taunt and point up the futility of their opponent's attempts to get at them.
Turan Khan took his captive to the walls each day so that she could witness the success of his forces in holding back the besieging army. Also, he wished all of the attackers to witness the infamy of his handling of her.
He thrust his fingers up into her hairy, moist cunt pit and rummaged around. He slowly drew his fingers in and out, provoking wild sensations in her, generating heat and sex fluid. He sucked her tits, running his greedy tongue all around the network of marks and scars slashed into her, chewing and tugging at the welt lines as he gnawed her body. He licked her armpits, lapped at her belly button, drank the sweat and blood off of her.
Kubia Yag looked on with envious eyes. He longed to have the magnificent body of the princess for his own. His overlord, Turan Khan laughed at the vexation and frustration in his eyes.
"Perhaps when I am done with her, old friend, she will be yours."
Kubia Yag rubbed together his clawed hands.
"Nothing would suit me more, great lord."
Turan ran his hand along Natasha's magnificent white flank. He pinched up a scar line, running the skin through his talons.
"Come over here, friend, and sample the wares."
The invitation was taken up. Kubia Yag covered the princess' mouth with his own stinking mouth. His breath exploded in her mouth, almost choking her with its stench. His body also smelled strong, despite his meticulous bathing. He was a naturally rancid piece of flesh, and Natasha made no attempt to conceal her distaste. This pleased Yag, he took delight in the displeasure women took in his company. Natasha spat in his face as he buried both of his thumbs in her cunt and explored the structure of the inner lips of her sex.
"Rotten Russian bitch!"
His ringed fingers slashed across her face, gashing her cheek. Instantly a strong arm gripped his.
"I gave you no permission to strike the wench."
"I beg forgiveness, my Lord. I was carried away by my anger."
Turan Khan poked the tip of his whip inside Natasha's cunt. He prodded the sensitive lips still streaming come juice from the finger fucking he had administered to her. Natasha spat at him. He nimbly avoided the spray of saliva and retaliated with a series of cracking lashes across her tits. Back and forth he slashed at the boobs, making them bounce and bob as blood flowed from the long red streaks and previously etched wounds were reopened.
"You never learn your lesson, defiant bitch. You will have little skin left when I eventually finish with you."
Then he laid his hands upon her, hooking his fingers deep into her raw recesses. He opened his trousers and drove his shaft into her, fucking her slowly and expertly, shoving it in and out with his fingers still holding the cunt lips gaping wide open. He moved her pelvis with his strong hands to meet his assault, laughing in her tear-streaming, humiliated face as she suffered the rape. Hundreds of jeering, laughing Mongol troops witnessed the public rape and urged the Khan on to greater efforts. They praised his power as he half split the shrieking raped captive in two. Roars of hatred and rage from the Russian ranks told the warlord that he had another audience in addition to his own forces, and he catered to this frustrated crowd of onlookers, letting them witness the total degradation of Natasha Valrenkov.
He gave her over to his men. Rough, fumbling hands explored her body, and she screamed as a mass of stinking, sweating flesh smothered her. She had been gang raped every day that she was in condition to bear it, but she could not become used to the horror. The Mongols tugged and mauled her tits, pliable masses of scarred white flesh. Fingers and objects of wood and metal poked around inside of her. The first man mounted her, mashed against the writhing figure upon the X Cross. He turned his naked ass to the howling host of Russian enemies, contemptuous of their fire.
General Makov grumbled as he witnessed the affront to their honor.
"Why do we not turn the catapults and cannon upon that spectacle. We could show the bastards a rare killing."
General Valrenkov looked at him in wonderment.
"What would become of Natasha Ivria Valrenkov, you idiot?"
"Death would be preferable to enduring what she undergoes day after day."
"Only a fool wants the curse of death before it is due."
The general ground his boot into the throat of a pretty young Mongol slave girl, taking out his anger upon her. At times he was tempted to wash away the horrors of the rape exhibitions in blood, but he always reconsidered. It would be bad for him if he had to answer for the death of Natasha. He would never have family peace if he failed to try to rescue her alive.
Upon the walls, the Mongols took their turns with the noble piece. It was rare sport, slamming their cocks into her golden cunt, which was soon awash with sticky, clotty masses of come. It ran down her thighs, oozy and reeking as man after man shot his load into her. A terrible blazing friction cooled but not quenched by the masses of her own gash juice pumped out of her. Soon, ten, twenty, thirty of them had ridden her.
They bit her throat, her tits, spat into her mouth and lapped her cheeks with their tongues as she threw her head from side to side, trying to avoid these indignities. They pulled at her, clawed her, pounded her.
Turan Khan stood by, his own cock hard as iron again and buried in the mouth of a beautiful young Chinese slave girl with an elongated tongue. She entwined it around the prick of the Mongol as it flashed in and out of her mouth. She coiled it around his long cock, squeezing and spinning it, shaping and fondling it with her wet, slippery tongue. It was a sensation beyond compare, and the girl was worth her weight in gold and precious gems to Turan Khan. She had been a gift from the great Khan of all the Mongols, and she was so accomplished in the subtle and mysterious intricacies of special mouth love that she was the sole slave in Turan Khan's harem never to feel the sting of the lash.
He ran his hand through her hair, which flowed in great waves down to her ankles, at times extending his rough hand to claw or caress her sweat-sheened thigh, and witnessed the degradation of his captive.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Cossacks drove madly across the steppes, dragging behind them the ripped gory bodies of the Mongol girls. The girls were flayed and torn as their tender bodies were dragged over sharp stones and rough ground. It was cruel, but it was a trick learned from the Mongols.
The Cossacks rode around the walls of Ya-Kana, crying out their wild battle cries, rejoicing in the maddened howls of rage from the defenders on the walls. Catapults and crude arrow launchers sent their bolts short of the galloping horde. Suddenly a sally port opened, but, before the horsemen could thunder out, the cannon (brought up close to the walls and positioned opposite every exit port behind revetments and under shielding trenchwork) blew away the heart of the charge. The sally never took place and the hearts of the defenders plummeted. They knew now that they were in for it. Things had really begun to go seriously wrong with them, and they had little chance without assistance from their main forces.
Turan Khan cursed as he watched the slaughter of the Mongol girls. He dragged Princess Natasha to his side by the chain leash he had fastened around her neck.
"Damn it, don't think that this will quell our fighting spirit. Mongols never surrender!"
"Your surrender wouldn't be accepted. You shall die like the dogs you are."
He would not tolerate her arrogant mouth. He pressed his knife to her breast, twisting the blade cruelly as he pierced her skin. She looked steadily into his eyes, unflinching, expecting death and prepared for it, even eager for it. He cut her from the neck to the waist, a shallow scratch.
"Do not think that in a moment of anger I will do something rash such as slaying you and releasing you from the misery of your existence. I am not such a fool."
He signaled two of his men to drag away the screaming, raving and cursing noblewoman to undergo yet another torture ordeal. They freely fondled and explored her body as they dragged her away.
Her body was subjected to horrible outrages. Hands groped everywhere along the soft, moist canal between her thighs. She endured it in silence, even when fingers were rudely thrust up her ass and cunt simultaneously and moved around until the liquid began to flow in her pussy hole.
Yarna and Yagii awaited her, two slant-eyed demons without a shred of human pity. They were busily engaged torturing a half-Cossack, half-Ukrainian girl. They had run long, narrow wooden spears through her tits and were twisting the wooden staves within the bleeding and scourged orbs. They continually whipped her ass with bamboo staves at the same time, forcing her to endure punishment that could inevitably destroy her if it continued.
The arrival of the princess transferred the attention of the two fiendish girls to her badly damaged body. At once two horribly familiar pairs of hands were at work on her ravaged body. They seized her tits and twisted them in opposite directions, striving to actually corkscrew the tits upon the soft flesh they were embedded in.
After the preliminaries of obscene fondling and barehanded tortures, Natasha was strapped down upon a low bench. A series of small wooden balls were thrust up into her, cunthole and asshole, one by one. The two daughters of Turan Khan constantly increased the number of spheres they forced into her. Striving to ram all of the cruel wooden balls up into her, they managed to fill her with five in the front and three in the back. Her ravaged body spasmed and the muscles twitched as her eyes went glassy under the incredible waves of pain she felt.
Yarna revived her by thrusting a pair of red-hot needles into the delicate undersides of her breasts, selecting the fleshiest parts of the swelling boobs and ramming the needles up into the tits and through them until the blood dripping needles broke out through the tops of Natasha's breasts.
"A good beginning," Yagii complimented her blood lusting sister. "We should put more of the needles into the witch's oversized breasts."
Yarna sucked the blood from the points sticking out of the wounded breasts. As she did this, she worked the two needles back and forth within the punctures, pumping blood out of the two penetrations into her thirsty mouth. Her sister amused herself by poking the terrified princess in the lips of her luscious pussy with a pair of needles, barely penetrating but repeatedly pricking this most tender area.
"I think that she's definitely beginning to crack. Look at her eyes, two frightened little rabbits fleeing from a fox. She sweats the stink of fear!"
Yarna mopped up a handful of moisture and rubbed it in the girl's smarting eyes.
"I think that if we continue in the way," Yarna said, "we can break her stubborn pride."
Saying this, she seized a handful of the lush foliage on the noblewoman's pubis and yanked it out, strand by strand, making the flesh quiver and shake and tearing a long, low wail out of the tightlipped victim.
"The bitch still has a lot of strength in her. It will take some more punishment to break her, a lot more. I keep underestimating the rotten slut!"
They shoved wooden pegs up into her front and back, grinding the wood around inside the delicate membranes, stretching and abrading, making the hot blood fill her tortured entrails.
As they worked on the helpless prey, Chinese pleasure slaves attended to their gashes. The Chinese girls had been trained since childhood, at which time her tongue-binding cords had been cut, leaving the loosened tongues free to stretch and snake far out of their mouths. They had been thoroughly trained in the use of their mouths, in the pleasure they could bring in sucking and tongue fucking. They slipped their long, supple tongues far up a cunt or asshole, all the way in, corkscrewing the elongated organs and rippling the tongues by muscle control to administer fantastic sensations to the mistress or master they served.
The brutal Mongol girls spread wide their ass cheeks and welcomed the probe of the tongues all the way up their ass tunnels, slipping in and out, back and forth, twisting and hardening, stretching and caressing. They went mad with the extraordinary pleasure, their hot pots bubbling over as they simultaneously enjoyed the wild raptures of pleasure and domination.
Princess Natasha tasted her customary broth of bitterness: hands continually rending and torturing her flesh; nipples twisted and turned until the skin threatened to tear. Her ass cheeks were raked and ripped along the visible trace lines of the numerous whip marks, back and forth, back and forth, endlessly and mercilessly. Yarna began to count the clawings she inflicted on one quite prominent welt composed of several varied welts growing together. She decided to claw the welt one hundred times, and she sawed her sharp talons back and forth, back and forth, until the nails had pressed deep into blood-spewing flesh.
"You will strip the skin from her hide without much more effort," her sister assured her. "Precisely my gentle intention."
But they could not be bothered forever with minor tortures. They spread the Russian noblewoman's bottom over a slab of wood, a splintery thin seat for her to rest upon as it cut deep into her raw crotch. And all the time Natasha screamed without cessation as they tugged and turned her this way and that, bearing down upon one leg and then the other, then bearing down on both legs until the wood was deep into the yawning chasm caused by the wide parting of her cunt lips spread and opened by her tormenters. They drove splinters up into her most delicate tissues, rejoicing to see the blood flowing.
"Beg us for mercy you rotten scum. Get down on your knees and ask us to provide you with delicious Mongol asses to clean with your filthy Russian tongue. In that way, and only in that way, will you find relief!"
Yagii wiped at the foam upon her victim's mouth. It struck her that it was impossible for the princess ever to formulate a thought in the condition she was in. Not that it mattered one way or another.
An arrow was poked up into her ass tunnel, the cheeks spread and held gaping apart. The princess screamed with sheer unmitigated terror, as the sharp arrowhead advanced up into her and the point cut and nicked the inner sheath surface, the delicate skin fabric which was already marred and scratched by the treatment it had undergone.
"Beg us, scum!"
Natasha Valrenkov might have broken at that point, but instead she passed into a deep coma from which it proved difficult to awaken her. The two girls were very much fearful that they had lost her, a situation which would have brought the dreadful wrath of their father down upon their heads. But fortunately for them she was revived, for further horrors to be perpetrated upon her.
Yagii sat upon her head and Yarna sat upon her tits. They bounced up and down, grinding their weight down upon her.
The Chinese tongue-slave girls did things with their tongues, actually tongue-whipping her tender flesh, the bleeding scourged white flesh that had been covered with cruel marring scars. They washed away her blood and whipped the raw nerved wounds with their elongated, talented tongues. The Cathayans regretted the things they had to do to her, but they would have suffered in her place had they refused. And so they obeyed. The sensations were strange, a thrill-shock of sensual delight mixed with a gnawing, continuous increment of pain.
The body of the Russian noblewoman was stretched out upon hard stone flooring. They dragged her back and forth, stopping upon her fingers and toes, grinding their booted feet down upon sections of her body as they rolled her and dragged her, inflicting more injuries upon the numerous lacerations, leaving the stones stained with blood.
Yagii lay prone upon her, mashing her face into Natasha's pain wracked countenance.
"I love you, my soft and tender princess," she mocked her pathetic victim.
Natasha summed the strength to spit into Yagii's face.
"Dog, pig, cow! Shit-eating ball sucker!"
The curses spilled upon her along with the blows. Yagii soon wearied of striking the half-conscious Russian foe and turned her attentions to her delicate features. She bit and chewed the face, sucking the eyelids, spitting into the mouth and up into the nostrils, gnawing upon the bruises.
"Come, Yagii," her older sister cautioned," do not disgrace and demean yourself in embrace with this garbage."
"I want to kill her, she spat in my face."
"If you finish her, our exalted father will have the skin flayed from our rumps in front of a regiment of horsemen who will then fondle our skinned bottoms until our mother can hear us screaming back in the Gobi wastes."
"It isn't fair. She should be ours to destroy. It is such a small thing."
"True, but our father still has a fondness for torturing and raping this scum."
Yagii dragged Natasha across the room by her nipples. It was a particularly inspired bit of cruelty, and succeeded in rousing the girl's half stunned senses to new reactions to the pain.
"This is the way it should be. She feels it all."
They spread her legs wide, wedging sticks and stones inside her bloodied channels. Then, they removed the objects they had forced into her and replaced them with fresh objects to cause more pain.
"This is wonderful, soon she'll be ready to sleep for the night."
They tossed her bodily back and forth with the aid of the Chinese slave girls. A new pain coma was evidently building up within her tortured body. She could withstand little more of the treatment she was undergoing.
Yagii seized her by the long mane of wild, disheveled hair. Yarna clamped her hands into the somewhat defoliated wild jungle of cunt hair. They lifted her up into the air by her scalp lock and cunt bush, shaking and twisting her, inflicting a terrible dose of suffering which caused her to black out after emitting a last horrible scream.
"There is no reason why she should have a complete rest."
Yarna agreed with the sentiment voiced by her sister. She caressed the fine facial structure of one of the Chinese slave girls, Hsu, her hands in the meantime stoking up a wild fire within the girl's box.
"I can use a man tonight," Yarna proclaimed, perhaps a lusty squad rather than one single solitary male."
Yagii laughed. "Our father would have our skins if we let ourselves be fucked before our marriages to the warriors of his choice."
"Well, if I cannot enjoy this privilege, then our guest shall have it."
Natasha was turned over to a squad of lusty cavalrymen. She was not much of a prize to them in her condition. They grumbled over her inert form, striking her frequently to express their displeasure. Her holes were greasy with stench and blood even before they began on her, and by the time they finished she was truly in sad shape.
CHAPTER EIGHT
General Valrenkov was tiring of questioning the Mongol scout who had tried to sneak through to the wall of the city bearing a message. The man refused to disclose the message he carried.
"Do you want us to take stronger measures with you?" the general threatened.
The stubborn soldier, who was already striped extensively from neck to crotch, front and back, with the marks of the knout inflicted during the questioning he had undergone, maintained a silence behind his battered and bloodied visage.
Valrenkov smashed him across his bleeding mouth. He rapped his fingers upon the broken nose of the Mongol, who spat defiantly at him.
"There are ways to make you talk. I think I will turn you over to the Cossacks."
The soldier's face paled with horror and fear. The general smiled cruelly at him. He knew that the dreaded threat of the merciless Cossacks could break this strong man.
"I think that I will turn your interrogation over to the Cossack woman."
The soldier gulped and looked ready to retch. But he held his tongue and awaited his fate. Valrenkov shrugged.
"You are responsible for the things that await you. I gave you your chance."
The miserable Mongol was turned over to the attentions of the violent Nada and several of her wild and wanton friends. They gloated over the body of the Mongol warrior. They subjected him to indescribable pain as they probed and explored the damage already done to him, with careless hands.
Nada held his terrified face close to hers. She spat into his mouth, sawed at his gums and teeth with her sharp nails, filled his maw with blood.
"Do you want to tell the general the things he wishes to know, you wretched dog?"
He shook his head. Nada and her friends pulled clumps and threads of hair out of his scalplock, his armpits, his chest, his testicles, and his legs-five girls simultaneously stripping his skin of its fur.
"Let's begin with the hot oil."
They suspended him in the air, legs wide apart. Then they filled his anal cavity with boiling oil, very slowly. He screamed ceaselessly, but kept his tongue still when questions were put to him.
"You lose your touch, Nada," complained the general.
"Not yet I haven't. I will get the truth out of this beast."
Needles were shoved under his fingernails. Nada accomplished this atrocity herself, putting the question to him again and again, after each slow and unbearable wedging of a needle under one of his nails. She spat into his mouth after every refusal to talk, and then applied a fresh needle to yet another nail. She then went to work upon his toenails, gouging and clawing under the nails until blood seeped out before she thrust the needles in.
The other vicious Cossack girls continued to inflict minor tortures upon him simultaneously, flipping his limp cock back and forth, rubbing and twisting it, turning the soft member about in their strong hands, but failing to spark a response in him. He feared what they would do to his cock and balls if he failed to talk more than anything else. He appealed to the grimfaced general who watched his women work upon the recalcitrant soldier.
"Get this pack of vermin off of me, sire. I am a soldier and deserve... aaaiieeee!" He lost control and screamed out as another needle went in.
"I will do with you as I please, Mongol fuck. I will not take you from their tender hands until you tell me the things I want to know."
"Rot in hell! Aaaahhhh!"
The general shrugged his shoulders and gave his own cock over to one of the Cossack maidens anxious to work it about in her skilled mouth. He abandoned the Mongol to the Cossacks and went off to his tent to drink himself to sleep with vodka. It had been a long day.
His going filled the Mongol warrior with despair. He thought of the blood hatred between Mongol and Cossack, and the terrible things done to the Cossacks by his people in the many campaigns against them. The soldier thought of the atrocities and depravities he himself had participated in, the burning of villages and the massacre of their inhabitants, the rape of thousands of women, the burning and despoiling of entire regions.
He thought of the Cossack girls in one village who had been tied to stakes thrust into the ground, cruelly bound with wet rawhide throngs which shrank and cut into the tender, white flesh as the sun dried the material. He remembered the raping and the obscene fondling, the pussy bushes stripped bare by rough hands. He had run his knife along the cleavage between the firm breasts, from neck to cunt, on girl after girl, morbidly fascinated by the rich blood which seeped from the thin cuts.
He had lashed their breasts with his riding whip as others had done. He had not held back. When sated with their young bodies, he had then fired arrows into them, one of many. He had selected for his target a tall girl with finely structured features and flashing eyes, a cursing hellion who had screamed and cursed defiance at her killers even with her last tortured breath. The arrows had lodged in her thighs, her arms, her tits. It was a long and painful death, prolonged through the flight of twenty arrows before the twenty first cut short her suffering.
Those were the things he had done, and now he himself was in the hands of wild Cossack girls, who tortured and abused him in payment for a long list of grievances and blood debts.
"No, no, no!" he screamed in mad fear.
His terror inspired them to stronger efforts. They seized handfuls of his flesh and tore the skin away with sharp nails, sawing and tearing, plucking off the loosened, bloody flaps.
The many hands ripped at him with such avid cruelty made the terrified soldier pass his water. As his quaking body shot out its piss, the cursing girls moved away from him to avoid the flood.
"Dirty stinking bastard! He did that deliberately!"
They fell upon him and tore away his bindings. He was battered and beaten, his ribs pummeled, his torn fingertips crushed and mangled, every inch of his body handled and punished.
One gripped his testicles and twisted from side to side, making him scream and babble. As the hairs were torn out of his balls he found the voice to speak; to blurt out his desire to confess.
Nada spat into his mouth and shoved her fingers up the broken prisoner's bottom.
"Excellent, excellent. Now remember to talk to the general when he comes or we shall start in on you again from the beginning, wretch."
When Valrenkov, hastily summoned from his tent, appeared, the soldier regained a measure of courage and maintained a stony silence. Valrenkov's face reddened and his moustache bristled.
"By God and the Devil! I want this pig to talk and to talk now, or I'll have the skin flayed off your backs. Break him right now. That's an order!"
Valrenkov's towering rage was evident to all of them. They dared not fail him. They fell upon the unfortunate Mongol with redoubled fury, binding him and throwing him down on the floor, belly down. The knouts fell upon his back and bottom, his legs and calves. They whipped his broad, wire-muscled back to bloody ruin, cutting and breaking the meat with a merciless hail of blows. Lacerations were torn in the skin, deepened and broadened out. Blood flowed and he screamed incessantly as bits of flesh were slashed away to fly through the air in a spray of blood. They whipped his already badly flagellated body until the bones and ligaments showed through the torn flesh. They washed the suffering Mongol in his own blood.
His bottom was whipped by two girls, cutting the bottom gloves to pieces, rending the muscular flesh and driving deep blood-oozing wounds into the flesh. Flaps of flesh and skin bounced upon the broken surfaces of the bottom halves with every repeated stroke of the whips beating down upon him.
The general watched anxiously, listening to the maddened, straining voice which hesitatingly gave out with the words of truth as the punishment rose in inhuman proportions. The general made no attempt to stop the devastation until he was certain in his mind that the pathetic wretch had no intentions of stopping his flow of words.
"Enough, now! He'll be dead soon at this rate. I want him alive to speak to me!"
In broken, garbled Russian the Mongol told the story that would spare him from further unendurable suffering. Blood streamed from so many wounds in his broken body that it was impossible to gauge the extent of the damage. The surgeon was hurriedly sent for to staunch the flow of blood and repair the worst of the damage while the scout confessed to General Valrenkov. The wild Cossack girls stood by, a constant threat to him if he lapsed back into silence.
At length the general was satisfied with the confession of the tortured soldier. He took his wild Nada across his lap, his hands toying with her ample and heated charms. Animal fire raced through her blood, her magnificent tits rose and fell under the thin veil of silk gauze which the general soon tore off her body.
"My little she-devil. You broke a strong man in less than an hour. How may I reward you, treasure?"
His hands roved all over her stripped and sweat-gleaming body. He began to spank and handle her bottom cakes, the fleshy white alabaster globes which he so loved to fondle.
"Treasure is the word for it, great Boris Valrenkov. A few diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires would be ample and worthy compensation."
Valrenkov laughed at her audacity and greed.
"You are the same as ever, my little witch. Very well, but the reward shall be one lonely and solitary sapphire. I trust that will suit you."
"You are more than generous," she replied as she began to fondle his penis.
"I realize that. Come, let's retire to my tent for some sport."
That was what she wanted at the time. Her blood fired up and lust burned her skin. She wanted to be fucked and whipped.
"Lead me away, great general."
She ran ahead of him, a raucous and wanton child-bitch. She presented the jiggling cheeks of her bottom to him to spank and beat as they walked. She spread the halves wide apart exposing her brown puckered asshole, which she stretched and opened for him, thrusting her fingers up in a wild, obscene exhibition which drove his cock up hard and straight as a pike, pressed against the front of his breeches.
"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" she screamed to him and all of the wild-eyed men within sight of her exposed beauty. She shoved her cunt out to gaping, drooling soldiers, offered then her ass and made pantomime gestures of sucking and fingering cocks with her hands and mouth.
Valrenkov was mad about her when she was that way, the ultimate bitch-whore fired by lust and blood mania.
"I want to fuck! I want to be flogged with knouts! I want crowds of soldiers to shove their hands up my asshole and to ream all of the hot sex vodka out of my hot bitch's body!"
He grasped her sweaty tits, grinding her tense body against his as they entered his tent.
"The whip first," she begged. "Whip me until my blood runs and then throw me on the dirt of the floor and take me!"
He was more than willing. He slashed at her with his long whip, coiling the snaking lash around her middle with a loud snap and then reeling her in to his embrace. He thrust her away, the whip uncoiling as she spun around. He whipped her ass, her tits, her belly. He crisscrossed surface streak lash marks on the bouncy globes of her breasts, the nipples hard and purpled from the force of her passion.
"More. More. Whip me harder!"
She played with her own breasts, handling them as roughly as she could, gouging scratch lines to complement the marks of the whip. He made her jiggling butt bounce as he hit it with such force that she hopped about from foot to foot, in a wild ecstasy of pain. In the extremity of her joy she tore out a handful of her own pubic thatch.
"Take me, take me now! Fuck me, fuck me!" Valrenkov was sweating and panting with exertion and lust. He needed no further encouragement. He threw her down on her back and dug his nails into her tits. He made the pliable tits dance under the grip of his strong hands. He clawed her brutally, from her tits down to her hips, bearing down upon her and marking her deeply.
"That's wonderful. More, more!"
He spread wide her legs. Her hips pumped as she rose to meet his lunge. He shoved his cock all the way into her and began to fuck her, her hands ripping his back as the cock buried in her hot, steaming and foaming hole.
She clawed his back, raked it from neck to waist, her hands tracing the hard sweep of his shoulder blades and the tough skin. He stayed on top of her for a long time, taking her again and again until he at last collapsed into a deep sleep. He remained on her until he awakened in the morning.
CHAPTER NINE
Turan Khan pointed to a tall, naked blond slave girl grooming the horse of her Mongol master.
"Observe, her," he said to Kubia Yag." Now you will see the depths of subservience to which a slave can be reduced."
"What does this one do for her master that my own wenches do not do for me?"
Turan laughed, his face full of malice. "This one has been trained by her master, the commander of a brigade, to service the needs of his stables as well as his own desires. That blonde pig takes the long and heavy cocks of his prize stallions into her mouth each day and sucks them clean."
"She sucks off his horses?"
"Sometimes she fucks them as well."
This was something amazing. Kubia Yag had not realized the depths of slavery to which it was possible to reduce an inferior. He watched the woman caress the horse as she combed it down. The stallion seemed impatient and nervous, as if it awaited something. After a while the slave with no apparent sign of reluctance took the horse's penis and stroked it. The horse's phallus turned stiff and hard-an enormous- thing dwarfing the organs of a human to insignificance.
"This is indeed a stirring sight."
Yag wondered what it would be like to touch and handle so debased a woman. Perhaps quite exciting. It might be worth trying sometime.
The blonde slave girl caressed the cock until it was hard and stiff. As she worked on the magnificent mount, she ran her tongue along its flanks and nuzzled its bottom with her face. She actually licked its ass, a practice which would have sickened a normal slave. Then she pressed the giant phallus to her mouth and began to lick it all along its length, running it back and forth, moistening it, licking the entire surface, inch by inch. At last she pressed her gaping mouth to the head of it, opening wide to take in the enormous tip. Yag was surprised that she managed it.
"She must have had much practice to be able to so readily take that thing into her mouth. It would choke a mare, let alone a human."
They watched the spectacle in rapt silence as the woman worked in the horse's cock with her hands, the head of the great shaft buried deep in her mouth. Her wide stretched mouth quivered and shook when the whinnying and trembling horse very visibly shot its massive load into her mouth. When the stallion had finished and the blond slave girl staggered away, she let drop from her mouth an enormous flowing of thick and heavy come that ran down her body. The stallion was obviously pleased by its treat.
"Such a thing should make a better fighting mount of the beast," laughed Turan Khan.
"That is so, mighty Khan," his friend agreed. "I think that such a practice would be just the thing to break the haughtiness of Natasha Valrenkov."
"Perhaps, but it would take a long time to break her down to such a stage. I am beginning to lose my patience with the haughty slut."
"My lord, what think you of the way the battle goes for us. I have a foreboding."
Turan Khan scowled, the heavy lines in his forehead meshing together. He had also begun to despair. There was no sign of a rescue force, and the food problem would soon become acute. Rations had been cut once again. Nevertheless he smiled at Kubia Yag and reassured him.
"I think we have not yet cause for serious worry. As soon as the main force of the Russian Tsar is defeated, our own army will send a mighty relieving force."
"Ivan the Terrible is defeated."
The look on the face of Turan Khan informed Yag that he was venturing into dangerous areas. He let the subject drop and their talk changed back to the subject of slaves.
Suddenly from the nearby Western wall there was a series of loud sounds and the other pandemonium that indicated another attack. Shots from catapults came over the walls, inflicting casualties. Cannon shots also decimated the ranks of the defenders. New assault towers were wheeled into attack position under a shower of bolts and arrows from the walls which speedily crushed the assault.
As was their custom after a fresh repulse of the attackers, the Mongol defenders subjected the Russian army to a display of cruelty.
A dozen Russian girls were dragged to the west wall. Jeering soldiers thrust hands over their hairy Venus Mounds as they defied the attackers to do anything about it. They ripped out clumps of the thick hair which they hurled from the walls. The girls were spanked and beaten. Whips and straps were used on their tender bodies which had already felt severe pain. Bowstrings were used, strong gut strings which were whipped against their sensitive skin until it bled.
A Mongol captain held the nipples of a short, chunky girl with jet black hair and wide, frightened, blue eyes between his fingers and twisted the pellets of coral tissue around in his grip until he had corkscrewed the buds around on the large and bulging tits. He raked her face, smashed his fist into her mouth, whipped a network of deep weals into her white back. He lifted her up into the air, high overhead, ordering two of his men to spread wide her bottom and shove their hands up into her. They stripped away her pelt and rammed their fists all the way up into her enlarged front and back openings.
She was thrown down and raped by the barbarian captain. Her screams and those of her companions carried far to the ears of the helpless Russian army as the girls were raped and tortured.
"Cowards," yelled a Mongol officer. "We torture and rape your women and you do nothing to prevent it!"
Wads of dung were hurled at the Russians as a gesture of contempt. General Valrenkov watched the sorry spectacle as he had witnessed many others, cursing his helplessness to prevent it.
Nada sat upon his knee, her face flushed with rage, her breasts rising and falling with the passion of her anger.
"Damn, I cannot endure this any longer! Those inhuman scum!"
Valrenkov looked at her, his face twisted into an expression of irony. Sometimes she could be amazingly simple, a mere child.
"Why do you protest their brutality, when your own is so awesome, my pet?"
"Those pigs are Mongols. What we do to them doesn't count. You don't regard them as human beings, do you? There is a difference."
Valrenkov reflected that the Mongols undoubtedly felt the same way. But such thoughts were without purpose, they had nothing to do with his own task, which was the destruction of Ya-Kana.
"If you find their behavior so unbearable go take your vengeance upon one of the captives. You can have the fool we took as prisoner, the messenger. The one you half killed. We have no further use for him anyway."
Nada went skipping off, as merry as a child, on her mission of extermination. She showed Valrenkov a flash of her ass, the welted white wonderland which he so loved to explore. As she passed soldiers she exposed herself to them to tease them. It was one of her life's major pleasures. Valrenkov did not mind them enjoying the sight of her, although the further enjoyment of her charms was his sole right.
The Mongol soldier had been bound to wooden stakes hammered into the ground. His back and buttocks, mangled areas of torn meat, had been covered with a number of drugs and poultices under a layer of soft rabbit hide. The brutal, wanton, young beauty without a second of hesitation tore off the bandages and medicines, clawing the medication out of the numerous injuries on his back with her fingernails; clawing until her hands were sticky with fresh blood and he was screaming in greater anguish than when the Cossack girls had tortured him for the message he carried.
Nadea rested for a while, lying on her back and listening to the music of his screams. At last, when he had regained a bit of his composure, he tried to evoke mercy from her with his broken babblings. Nade enjoyed the sound of a begging Mongol, she relaxed and let him rave on.
"I told you everything I know. Everything Aaaiieeee! I swear it. By all of our gods. Every word. Arrrhhhh! It hurts-it hurts!"
"You Mongols call yourselves iron men. You broke very easily for an iron man. You were no trouble at all. I know that you told everything, you craven scum. You could not have held back a word, the way we broke you. That isn't why I have come here. I merely wish to enjoy the pleasure of torturing you."
"Why, why?"
"Because you're a Mongol and are still alive!"
She pissed into his mouth, making him swallow every hot drop. Then she gagged him by stuffing filthy and lice infested rags into his mouth. His eyes were wild as a trapped animal. Nade realized how much he feared her. His terror exceeded that of most of the Mongol girls she had tortured. It promised to be pure pleasure, breaking him down.
Nada whipped the torn mass of broken skin and raw stripped tendons that was his back. She used the wicked knout, lashing away with the dangerous implement until his thrashing body was aswim in a pool of its own blood. He had scraped his wrists and ankles down to the raw flesh trying to slip out of his bonds.
"Now I will teach you the true measure of pain, you craven bastard!"
Two of her girl friends came to join the sport, wild wantons akin to her in spirit. They played with one another, caressing clitorises and cunt lips, making the hot juice flow in orgasm after orgasm.
The unfortunate Mongol had his raw and bleeding back treated to a new form of medication. Pounds of salt were ground into the torn pulp. Every nerve in his body burst into flame when three pairs of pitiless hands rubbed the fine white crystals into his body. Nada even ripped open the wounds under his nails and pressed salt into them.
The Cossack girls whipped him again upon his salt-treated wounds. Blood and salt spurted and sprayed from his back as he went into convulsions.
The girls left him to die or recover as he might. Either was unimportant to them.
Nada was eager to satisfy her bloodlust, which had been roused but not satiated. It gnawed at her, growing and unfulfilled. Nada and her friends went to the pens where the Mongol women were kept. They were a pathetic lot in their wooden cages. Their bodies bore the marks of whip, club and branding iron. They wallowed in their own filth; shit coated their naked hides.
Nada selected the largest and most powerful looking of the Mongol girls, a bitch named Tara.
"This is the one I want. Turn her loose."
The cage was opened and the Mongol girl came out fast, her face showing her plain and evident fright. She knew what to expect. They all recognized Nada. Her reputation was awesome among the prisoners; she was the embodiment of death to them.
As Nada lunged at her opponent, the Mongol girl hurled a handful of shit at her. It missed, but it was a cue for other girls to hurl shit and curses at Nada. The Cossack girl did not let it ruffle her, she stalked her prey ignoring the shit which splattered on her naked hide. Laughing, cheering soldiers urged her on to the kill.
Nada lashed out, raking her opponent's belly with scratches so deep that instantly blood dripped down into the growth of her pussy hair. Tara kicked out at her catlike foe, who easily dodged the kick.
Nada rushed in, knocking away her opponent's guard and clawing her face. Tara reeled back, deep gashes slashed into her cheeks. She lashed out with a punch to Nada's belly. Her fist clumped into the soft white flesh, up to the wrist. Nada doubled up, but lashed out with two vicious blows to her powerful antagonist's cunt mound. As the Mongol girl reeled, Nada drove in and caught her around the throat with both hands, pulling down her head and bringing up a knee which smashed her nose. As the girl fled backwards Nada swooped in and pulled her legs out from under her.
The Mongol girl went down on her back. Nada trapped a leg under one arm. Picking up a handy stone, she smashed the cartilage of her opponent's knee. This crucial blow crippled her opponent, who rolled around screaming in fear, flailing out with her arms and her good leg, trying to keep Nada off her.
Nada caught an arm. After a wild rolling struggle she put the Mongol girl over on her belly and mounted her back. A brisk spanking brought sustained and ribald applause from the hundreds of soldier spectators, who threw coins to her. Nada used the coins as a means of torture, shoving them up the ass and cunt of battered Tara. Tara continued to fight with all of her might, until Nada broke her thumbs, ending her effective resistance.
Nada rolled her over. The girl whimpered in fear, trying to keep her flopping arms out of Nada's way, her thumbs broken and all resistance useless. She knew she was doomed. It was all a question of what Nada intended to do to her, how much she wished to prolong the slaughter.
Nada had no intention of ending it fast. She tore the Mongol girl's nipples away with her teeth, slowly sawing and tearing through. She bit off the dark buds and chewed them up, letting the girl watch her flesh being chewed and eaten. She let the blood drip out of her mouth on Tara's face.
"Kill me, kill me, get it over with!"
Nada twisted the broken thumbs against the cracked joints. She made the girl go half mad with pain before she relented and turned to other targets on Tara's body.
She spread the legs wide and then thrust her hand into the Mongol's gash. It was difficult slipping her entire hand into the kicking girl's hole, but she slowly lashed her fist up into the cruelly battered tissues, up and up, her whole hand buried all of the way inside her prey's box.
Then Nada stuffed some of the shit that had been thrown at her down Tara's throat. She stuffed more of it up her ass and inside her cunt. She tore the girl's body to pieces, tearing out her hair in large handfuls depilating her cunt and armpits. She tore the nippleless tits until they were mere lumps of blood and pulp. She twisted and turned the gory breasts around, letting the other terrified slaves observe the probable fate in store for them.
More coins were thrown to her, and a clamor went up for the finish to the slaughter, for the coup de grace. Nada was also eager to give the death blow. She positioned the broken body of the Mongol beauty, who was delirious with shock and scarcely aware of what was happening to her. When the girl was set up for it, Nada merely sat down upon the Oriental girl's face and bounced up and down upon her skull, gradually choking off her air as she kept in a still and stiff position for prolonged periods. The Mongol girl panicked when she realized what was happening. She flailed weakly at her foe with her broken hands, until she could swing no longer. Nada sat upon the girl's face until she smothered her to death.
CHAPTER TEN
Princess Natasha worked at the rope binding her left wrist. The fools who had bound her had neglected to tighten the loop as tight as it should be. At last she managed to free her hand. After that it took her only a few minutes to free the remainder of her body.
Natasha had no idea of how she might escape. There was no place she could go, no way to get out of the city. Someone would be coming for her at any time. Her only alternative was to kill herself. In that way, and that way alone, she could cheat her foes.
Natasha hated the thought of it. To die so young. She looked down at her scarred body, wincing as she touched the fresh and still bleeding whip wounds and puncture marks on her breasts. Death was the only way to escape from the torture of the Mongols, and she would have to do it.
As she fashioned her bindings into a crude noose to hang herself with, she thought of how she had come to be in such a predicament. Traveling with an escort of a hundred men, well within territory deemed safe, her group had been attacked by a large party of Mongols, who had massacred the escort to the last man. Natasha had hesitated while holding her knife to her throat. That had been her error. A Mongol had rushed upon her and fought the blade from her grasp. She had been taken alive.
They whipped her at first. They hung her from the limb of a tree by her wrists and flogged her ass. The soldiers had cheered on the lashing, sending up a triumphant shout as the whip striped her bottom and drew blood. Many hands had roamed over her soft and luscious bottom cheeks. One of the warriors had held the ass halves wide apart showing off her asshole. He explained to the troops the way in which such Russian noblewomen enjoyed having their bottom holes frigged by the hands of young page boys before using the chamber pot. As he humiliated her with the obscene story, he shoved fingers in and out of her asshole. Then more whipping on her bare bottom had followed.
"Twenty thousand rubles if you free me," she had shouted.
They ignored her attempts to buy her freedom. As she suffered her two maids had also suffered, spread out naked upon the harsh ground and raped over and over again. She had almost gone mad listening to the horrible screaming. The girls had been raped a hundred times apiece, close to their mistress, who could see each hideous mounting on the sweat-sheened, half-bro-ken bodies as her own body was flogged front and back. Her flesh had quivered and shaken under the sting of the whip. Her tits had bounced every time the black lash had been laid across the sensitive skin. They had not quit until her body was a bloody ruin.
She had been thrown upon her back and mounted by man after man, who rutted around, riding her bloody form until she blacked out. When she awakened, she and her maids were bound captives, hands fondling them as they rode thrown across the saddles of the Mongol barbarians.
They had been taken to Ya-Kana, the infamous stronghold. There they had been dragged before Turan Khan, who let his eyes feast upon the exquisite Natasha as she was once more brutally whipped. She had pleaded with him to be ransomed, raising her offer to forty thousand rubles.
"I do not need your paltry money," he sneered, running diamonds through his fingers. Indeed, his wealth was immense.
He had then set about breaking down the stubborn and proud beauty. Shortly after the capture of Natasha Valrenkov the all-out Russian attack against the Tartars had been put into motion.
These thoughts flashed through Natasha's mind as she prepared to take her own life. But even as she put the noose around her neck, Yagii and Yarna entered the torture chamber.
"Look, she's killing herself! Get the bitch, Yarna. We mustn't let her escape from us!"
Yagii sprang forward to foil the suicide attempt. Natasha managed to lash out strongly with a foot. It caught the cruel Mongol in the mouth. But Yarna smashed both fists into Natasha's middle, putting her out of action.
"Stop her from dying," Yarna screamed. "No! I'll kill the bitch with my own hands."
Yagii needed all of her might to pull her cursing and struggling sister off of Natasha's throat.
"Don't be a damn fool, our father would skin us if you killed her."
Yarna rubbed her cut mouth.
"Nevertheless, sooner or later I will have her hide."
She kicked Natasha in the cunt. The Russian girl doubled up.
"We must tell father she almost committed suicide. Obviously one of the guards was careless. This will cost the fool dearly. His hide will be stripped off."
That was precisely the punishment prescribed by Turan Khan. The careless guard had his ass flayed of its skin by brutal Yarna and Yagii. With consummate and exquisite skill they cut a swath around the skin covering his buttocks and then flayed away the skin, inch by inch, with a precision-sharpened knife. The man shrieked and begged for mercy. It was only because of the need for every soldier that he was not slain.
After the horrible work was completed, Yarna massaged the skinless buttocks, slowly running her hands over every flayed inch of the unfortunate soldier's bottom. She felt the flesh tremble and quiver under her touch, and as she increased the pressure of her hands she inflicted unbearable pain upon the pathetic culprit.
"Be thankful to escape with your life."
Yarna picked up a whip and flexed it in her hands. She showed it to the pain-wracked warrior.
"This is your further punishment for carelessness, you miserable dog."
She lashed it across his bottom. The whip sliced into crimson, skinless, raw flesh. Blood splashed out of the torn pulp.
"Give him a good whipping, the stupid pig." Natasha Valrenkov witnessed the torture with considerable satisfaction. Although she had failed to take her own life she had gotten a Mongol into trouble and caused him to suffer. That was some compensation.
The whip did its work. His bottom was cut with every touch of the lash, every bite of the throng upon the raw purple and scarlet mass. When he fainted, he was revived by a candle held under his bottom.
"Stupid fucking weakling!" Yagii cursed him as she smashed her fists into his mouth until his teeth broke. "Showing such lack of stamina and endurance in front of an enemy. You let that bitch see what a weakling you are."
The soldier was finally allowed to crawl out of the torture chamber. First he was forced to lick up the gobs of spit the two girls liberally covered the floor with. He went staggering off, eager to die in battle and escape his disgrace.
"You must feel very smug after that" Yagii remarked to Natasha. "Well, you have scant reason to feel any pleasure, for it will only make your lot that much harder."
She twisted Natasha's nipples and sliced her down the cleft between her tits with the skinning knife.
"Planning to skin me as well?" Natasha inquired in a cool and unafraid voice.
"We would if we were allowed to. Our father still wants you for some strange reason, you blonde piece of shit. But do not get your hopes up, we'll have you in our hands sooner or later."
"I would prefer the later," Natasha answered.
, Yagii poked a stick inside Natasha's bottom hole, in and out, enjoying the capacity to hurt her.
"When he turns you over to us we're going to torture you to death. We'll hang you up by your toes and fill you with peppers and spice. After that we'll roast you over a spit and serve your meat up to our dogs!"
"Long before that happens this city will fall to my kinsman, Boris Valrenkov. What I shall do with the two of you will take a very long time. I shall start by putting rings through the lips of your vaginas to lead you around by. Then I'll get mean!"
Yagii punched Natasha in the mouth. She followed through with a hard blow to the belly.
"You're very arrogant, considering the fix you're in. I think it's time you had your quota of soldiers for the day. Perhaps a double quota!"
Natasha's face collapsed into a mess of fear. She had hoped that she had missed out on this for one day.
"No, you can't do that. I'm still weak, I'm..."
"Fucking shit! You didn't get hurt. We broke that up in time. Now you put in some suffering!"
Sixty wild and hungry soldiers were brought in. They surrounded Natasha, grabbing and plucking at her with rough, rapacious hands. Natasha screamed and tried to dodge about in her unyielding chains.
They freed her from her bondage and threw her down upon her welted back. Three of them held her down, legs gaping wide. The warriors holding her took the opportunity to further grope her body with their rough hands. It reminded her of the first time Mongols had raped her. She was as helpless now as she was then.
Yagii and Yarna stood by, looking on with deadpan impassivity, but actually creaming in their hot little holes as the men took the princess one by one. They were extremely brutal in the raping, taking out on her the rage they felt at the foe besieging the city. They fucked her, man after man, her cunt giving back with great gobs of the sticky sperm which flooded into it as cock after cock slammed into her. Yagii wondered that the warriors could derive such pleasure from this, as after a while the men were literally swimming their shafts about in the fluid of the dozens who had gone before them.
Natasha screamed and cursed and wept and pleaded and spat and bled and suffered. The routine was so familiar to her by now, although she had never before suffered to be mounted by as many as sixty men at one time.
Yagii whipped a Circassian maiden while awaiting the end of the mass rape. She concentrated on the soft belly which still had a generous roll of baby fat upon it.
Natasha passed out but was revived by a method Yagii favored, the thrusting of needles into her armpits. The extreme pain brought her around to endure yet more raping.
Yagii slashed the flesh of her Circassian victim. The long and wild mane of hair, freed of its braids, splayed about as the distraught girl threw her head from side to side, trying to find some relief from the pain, the worst she had ever felt. Her guts knotted and loosened as the whip coiled and danced upon her midsection. Yagii whipped intricate blood patterns into the girl's flesh.
The princess screamed under the assault of the fortieth man. He bit her tits, cradling the breasts in his hands, twisting them left and right. Yarna encouraged him to plunge rapidly in and out of the raped woman, throwing him a gold coin as he finished his performance. He stood up grinning and turned his prize over to the next man.
The Mongols drank vodka as they raped her, pouring the potent brew over her flesh. Natasha summoned the strength to spit into the face of the next man, who lost his erection. He slapped her face until she bled from the mouth, but his jeering and mocking comrades hauled him off her and thrust him to the back of the line, deriding his manhood. He vowed to get her later and shoot a fuck into her that she would not soon forget.
Natasha went limp and still under the assault, becoming a dead weight of flesh that did not move, did not react. In this way, she took some of the pleasure of the raping from them. Not much, but some of it. At last she was left alone, fucked by 60 Mongol barbarians. She wondered if there was a man left within the walls who had not possessed her once.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Mongol girls were turned out of their cages by the Russians and forced to run for the walls of the city, through a great gap in the lines of the besieging infantry. The Cossack horsemen rode them down as they fled, coming up upon the naked and weakened girls and draping nooses around their feeble bodies. The girls were dragged behind the horses of their slayers, over the rough ground, with their skin being torn off.
Nada had joined the horsemen, riding as well as any of them. She snared a young girl with long hair, and dragged her ripped body over the worst of the ground, until there was little left of her. The bloody carcass was piled with the other dead Mongol corpses, a gruesome heap that was visible to the enraged watchers upon the city walls.
"Can we not do anything to get out of this accursed city?" Yagii asked her father.
Turan Khan noticed the fear in her voice and slapped her across the face.
"No daughter of mine shall turn coward. You know that we are trapped here as well as any. There is naught to do but bear with it and hope for rescue."
"Rescue isn't coming." The downcast girl fired off a random, useless arrow toward the Russian entrenchments.
"They are tunneling under our walls," Yarna said, "if we fail to detect their tunnel and to take countermeasures in time they will breech this citadel with ease and wipe us all out. So you think we could withstand an attack from twice our number?"
Turan Khan cursed. "If we were outside upon our horses racing across the steppes we could challenge any foe. I vow never to be trapped behind walls again."
"There may not be a next time."
Turan Khan was appalled and disgusted with the defeatist talk of his daughters.
"This is not the spirit with which you were raised. Go to the torture chambers and amuse yourselves. I want to hear no more suck grumblings from you. I have problems enough as it is. Get out of my sight."
As they walked off to the torture chambers to take some small pleasures with the bodies of the enemies that they could get their hands upon, they looked about at the drawn faces of the Mongol women and children, especially the haggard faces of the slaves who were naturally on the shortest rations and would be the first to die if it came to starvation. Even some of the warriors were thinning. The faces looked upon them with hostility that they had never displayed openly before, blaming Turan Khan and his daughters for the perilous state of Ya-Kana.
"The people blame our father for the fact that we're penned up in here," Yarna said.
"I can see that just by looking at the faces of the stupid louts, it's plain enough. In victory they were loyal, but now the fucking trash wonder how it's all going to turn out."
"I think we're all going to die. That's the way of it. We're surrounded, outnumbered, outfought, and out of hope. There is no rescue coming."
"Shut up. Father is right, why be gloomy? Nothing has happened yet. I cannot believe that these inferior people could defeat us, the Mongols. So let's torture some of the slaves, and look upon the bright side of things."
They took their wrath out upon luscious young girls. They selected a girl named Olga Palyecheck for their first victim. She was a broad peasant girl with great wide hips and huge globular tits. The nipples were the size of tea cups. They put her upon a piece of apparatus that never failed to make the victim desire death after the slow lingering hours of torture spent upon it.
The object was an iron horse, a horse with a spiked saddle. Heavy weights attacked to the legs of the victim dragged her weight downwards, pressing her rump down upon the spikes which slowly penetrated and entered her ass. Blood ran down the flanks of the horse, from the wiggling and spasming body trapped upon the saddle.
But this was only the beginning of Olga's torture. As she rode upon the mount of iron a fire was kindled beneath the horse. The wood piled under the hollow body of the horse burned well, the heat radiated upward into the iron shell, until the heat began to blister and peel the skin of the unfortunate girl seated upon the mount.
"Do you want to be taken down from that saddle?" inquired Yarna pleasantly, as she heaped more wood upon the blaze.
"Y-yes, please take me... aaadeeeeeooo-o... down."
Olga strove to lift herself upward. She almost dislodged a few of the spikes deep in her rump, but caused the blood to flow still faster as she tore up the punctures. The spikes were heating within her flesh as the reddening metal plate under her huge and fleshy tail turned glowing hot.
"Open your mouth," Yarna commanded, "I want to spit. I might take you off that horse." Olga opened her mouth for the spit and took five heavy gobs of the sickening slime deep back in her throat.
"I said I might take you off, but I don't think I will. Too bad!"
Olga let out a scream of despair and began to pray for mercy, between blood chilling howls.
Natasha was chained to a pillar against the far wall where she could witness all that was done to the unfortunate victims.
"You rotten, evil scum! I hope that I'm around when you're pulled down so that I can give you what you have coming!"
Yarna laughed at Natasha's fury. She threw a dart at Natasha, burying it in one white breast.
"You'll be singing a different song when your turn comes again."
She took out her knife and traced it around Olga's nipples. The breasts were greasy with sweat, and a smell of burning was beginning to rise from the discolored tail meat, turned brown by the baking action of the horse. She drew a circle of blood around the nipples, and then dug the blade into the cleavage's skin. She considered skinning the girl's tits, but that was too drastic. She wanted to work on this one again.
"Take her down from the horse, I don't want to ruin her so soon."
The girl was taken down. Yagii and Yarna ran forward to grab her roasted ass halves. They crumpled and tore the half-burned, cracked and rolled skin. They tore at the globes, thrilling to the reactions of the pain wracked body under their hands. The girl struggled and fought with the fury of the damned, but all in vain.
Yagii and Yarna were ready for another victim. This one was a tender young girl who was half Ukrainian and half Polish. They dragged her back and forth across gravel and stones by her long pigtails. Yarna constantly kicked and beat her, inflicting numerous cuts and gashes on the tender body.
They hung her up by her hair, watching her twist and turn, avoiding her pumping, threshing legs.
"What shall we do with this one?" Yarna asked her sister.
"Is your imagination weakening? I think we might start with an ordinary whipping and go on from there."
They whipped her with wide and heavy strips of leather. They made the harsh material crack and crunch upon her tender body. The leather shocked her again and again as they whipped away. They soon had every inch of her body hued in shades running from crimson to deep scarlet. They whipped and whipped. They wrapped the lengths of heavy leather around her flailing limbs, made her scream when they plunged between her thighs and wrapped their lashes around the mound of her pubis.
They tied ropes around her breasts and pulled upon them, one pulling to the left and one to the right, separating her tits and tugging at them until they stretched and elongated and the nooses of rope cut deep into the flesh, turning the breasts into teardrop shaped bags of agony. They whipped the reshaped tits which were congested with blood, purple under the pressure. The girl's legs beat the air as she turned in all directions, hanging from her hair, with the whips tearing more bloody gashes into her tits.
Yagii concentrated upon whipping the soft mounds while Yarna, for a while, maintained the pressure in the ropes, keeping the nooses tight. Then, she turned this activity over to the two guards of the torture chamber so that they could concentrate upon their whipwork.
The girl made the mistake of cursing her enemies in half a dozen languages. For this indiscretion they threw the loops of rope over a beam set into the roof and released her hair, leaving her dangling off the floor by the now very fragile structure of her tits. The screams she emitted were the most terrible that Natasha had ever heard. She knew that they were more horrible sounds than any that had ever been wrenched out of her throat.
"In the name of mercy," she implored, "you'll tear her breasts off if you don't release her from that."
"Will we?" Yagii sneered. "So what if we do? One more dead means nothing to us. We intend to wipe you all out anyway sooner or later. In any event, it won't be that easy to rip off her tits. She was a good solid set of breasts and I think they can take the strain for at least one hour."
"I say they will not," her sister commented.
"Are you willing to wager a hundred pieces of gold upon that assumption?" Yagii challenged.
"Yes, I have the confidence to bet a hundred. No! let us make it two hundred! Two hundred pieces of gold say that her breast will tear off in less than an hour."
"Very well, I wager two hundred pieces of gold that her breasts will not tear off."
Natasha hung her head in despair. To them the suffering of the poor wretched girl was nothing more than an interesting spectacle to wager gold upon. Natasha vowed that if ever the tables really were turned she would show no pity to the evil duo.
To pass the hours, they invented a new ordeal for one of the slave girls. They nailed her tits to a table, hammering long nails through the soft orbs of alabaster ivory. A pool of blood ran from under the tortured mounds.
They then pulled upon her arms and legs with ropes, pulling her backwards, constantly varying the force upon her, but never relenting in pulling against the anchor of her own breasts nailed to the table.
When they were tired of this, they whipped her ass; slamming the bottom with a paddle formed of leather loaded with iron pellets. It made a horrible buzzing and whirling sound as if slashed through the air, a distinctive cry of menace before it hammered home, driving into the bottom with a special kind of force to break the tissues deep within the bottom, tearing flesh and breaking small blood vessels.
Every inch of the poor trapped girl's body shook with every crunching impact of the terrible flail!
The time passed quickly in this way. They played with the tits, pulling up on them, turning them against the holes punctured through them. They slapped her face and thrust penises of wood and stone up into her.
At last the hour had passed. The poor girl was lowered to the floor. Her tits had been reshaped, lengthened sausages with purple tips and black rings etched deep into the flesh. But the flesh had held.
Yagii triumphantly collected the amount of the wager. Her sister paid with reluctance.
"Next time do not be so rash as to bet with me. You know that my judgement is better in these things."
"Shit!"
They then turned to Princess Natasha. Inevitably, they wound up working upon her.
"Our father is very pressed with the business of the war of late, and so is unable to give to you the attention you deserve. However, we can make it up to you."
Natasha looked at Yagii, feeling very weary, very spent. "I wish you weren't so good to me, you bitch."
Yagii laughed. It was going to be one of those sessions where they started off by dealing with Natasha's defiance. Well, she was not going to get away with it.
Yarna seized her by the tits and ground the nipples together, trying to mash both tits into one mass. She fumbled the globes around in her hands, thrilling to the wonderful sensation of inflicting hurt, sinking her hands into the soft flesh.
They whipped her ass with chains, making the flesh split and pour blood as they hammered her. They whipped her ass until the cleft between her buttocks was sticky with blood and blood poured over her legs. They whipped her and whipped her, and whipped her.
Sometime during the torture she passed out. Yagii called a halt to it.
"She becomes less able to stand up to this all of the time. Perhaps we should give her a few days of rest before we start in again?"
"Why bother? Who knows what will happen in a few days? I say we should get in all of the torture we can, in the time that we have."
CHAPTER TWELVE
As the girls whipped Natasha's unconscious body with chains their father entered the torture chamber.
"Enough of that, you devils! I want something left to amuse myself with."
"How goes the situation, father?"
Turan Khan looked at his daughters. "The situation is unchanged. What could happen in so little a span of time? I have no patience for the formalities any more. If you have something to say, then speak up. If not, keep silent."
The girls were dismayed by the lack of composure of their father. Despite his belligerent optimism, they knew that fear and despair were beginning to gnaw at him. He was losing confidence in himself, as the people of the city were losing their belief in him. He would be a very dangerous man to his friends now, as well as to the enemy, and to his daughters also.
He walked to Natasha with a jar of brine which he threw over her cuts. The effect of the hellish liquid upon her many injuries revived her.
"Welcome back to consciousness, my beautiful princess. You will shortly regret your foolish attempt to leave my hospitality."
Ruthlessly he handled and crushed every inch of her body. He seized sections of her flesh in his strong grip, wrenching and pulling at her with full power. He pinched up handfuls of her flesh and crushed them in his iron grip until the blood spurted as juice spurts from a crushed fruit. He tormented the bloodied body from which claret and sweat constantly poured thick and fast, by tearing out clumps of hair during the sheer continuous grinding of her flesh within his hands. He worked on her spasming and contorting body from which the shit and piss poured out in the extremity of her pain, until he no longer possessed the strength to further mangle her flesh.
He rested, leaning against the shuddering body and fondling it with a caress not much gentler than his torture. He chewed Natasha's face, clamping his teeth into her cheeks until the blood poured through the bruised skin.
Thus he took out his anger and frustration upon her, glad to have this victim to vent his hatred upon.
Yagii and Yarna, disappointed in losing the girl for the remainder of the day turned to the assortment of other slaves at their disposal. They selected a captured warrior, a strong young Ukrainian peasant boy, with bulging muscles and a capacity for endurance that might satisfy their craving to punish him.
The Cathayan slave girls with the trained elongated tongues worked upon them. Yagii experienced the bliss she always enjoyed under the skillful manipulations of their tongues. She spread wide the crack of her ass, guiding the long pink probe up into the anal passage, splitting open her ass crack to take it in.
She slashed the girl across her wiggling rump, goading her on to a wilder, more frantic performance.
"This is pleasant, even if there is a war raging," she commented to her sister, who was also enjoying pleasure at the hands and mouth of another girl.
They turned their attention to the trussed-up Ukrainian, a young lad with a stocky, thickset peasant face and a thatch of wheat colored hair which two other Mongol girls were plucking from his scalp in handfuls. Tarana and Ikarna, the two girls who often assisted the two malicious sisters in their tortures, played with his cock, pumping and fondling the organ until it was hard and hot and about to spurt, then letting it lose its rigidity and turn soft. The churning action in his balls at the cockteasing grew to an unbearable intensity. They gave him little mercy.
Then, they began to whip him in a slow and methodical way. Four whips slashed at him, sharp stinging slaps of leather upon his splayed-out limbs. They whipped his arms from his clenched fists to his armpits, concentrating upon the sensitive armpits-whipping and whipping and whipping until the lashings split open the crimsoned skin and blood covered his armpits. They worked on his legs simultaneously, whipping his legs slowly, and straying back to the soles of his feet from time to time, as this vulnerable area was very receptive to the sting of leather. They whipped the fleshiest areas the hardest, the calves and the inner sweep of the thighs. As leather slapped upon his balls he shrieked and passed out.
"Revive the bastard!"
He was revived to sterner tortures. They began to flog him in earnest. First his ass was slashed and torn until it was a mass of bleeding cuts. They allowed the lashes to circle around his body, cutting deep into his hard guts. They whipped him everywhere, making him bleed like a butchered pig. He soon gave off the deep stench of fear and pain. They rubbed salt into his cuts to keep him awake. When they had concluded the whipping he was a mass of blood from head to toe.
"Now for a bit of heat! " Yagii was more than eager to follow her sister's suggestion. The Ukrainian was suspended over a pan of hot coals, kicking and screaming.
"What with the food shortage," Yarna suggested, "It might not be a bad idea to carve him up for steaks."
She shoved a knife an inch into his rump. He shrieked and lunged from side to side as blood flowed into the fire. It sizzled and smoked. A heavy stench filled the air. The four fiendish girls hardly minded. They washed the buttocks clean of blood again and again, taking pleasure in the growing discoloration.
Yagii shifted her body to take the mouth slave's tongue all the way up her hot cunt. She spread herself wide and experienced rapture as the elongated tongue penetrated in wild, swishing strokes, all the way up her vaginal passage. It was as long as a cock (a pleasure she had not yet experienced) and this was reason to take full pleasure from the tongues of the slave girls.
Again and again the Ukrainian screamed as his ass blacked and sizzled. They continually slapped his bottom with bamboo canes, making the bloody, torn, and roasted bottom respond with so much anguish that the captive loosened his bladder into the pan of hot coals, almost extinguishing the blaze. The air filled with the reek of boiling piss.
"What a sickening stench," groaned Yagii. "Let's get out of here and leave the dog for a while."
They left him in that position, the coals still flickering under his body, his wind cries filling the air.
Their father was reaming out unfortunate Natasha's cunt with a long stick, plunging it rapidly in and out of her abused gash.
"I can see that many men have had you recently, slut!" He evoked terrible cries of suffering from her.
"If you were to finally acknowledge your slavery to me, I might quit all of this."
Too weak to answer him, she shook her head. Turan Khan reddened with rage. All of his battle strategies were failing, and now he could not even break the spirit of a stubborn woman. It was too much to bear.
"If you do not soon freely bend to my will, I will force you to!"
He began to scrape at her belly with his sharp knife. He traced over a long, thin whip welt that had been etched into her skin, gouging a thin line of blood down the center of the welt scar. Natasha threw back her head. Her face contorted in deep anguish. But she did not make a sound.
"You will not keep silence long!"
Every inch of her body throbbed with pain, and blood ran from her wounds everywhere. She wondered where she got the capacity to remain awake and survive this punishment to endure more. Yet, she could not force herself to die from it, and her capacity to bear pain filled her with despair, for it only earned her greater suffering.
"Bend to me, you golden haired bitch. Bend to my will and acknowledge my supremacy!"
He worked on her with a dull blade. He sawed it back and forth, back and forth, along white weal scars. He shoved the blade deep into the flesh and cursed her continuously as she displayed her unique stamina. He sawed the blade into the new marks which still bled. He covered the blade with the scarlet liquid from numerous lacerations. He poked the dull point of the blade into her armpits, shoving it into the stubborn resistant skin and twisting, twisting, twisting until her entire body was racked, and spasmed and contorted and twisted by an unbearable series of pain spasms.
"Do you wish to submit?"
She spat saliva and blood into his face. He slapped Natasha so hard that blood ran from her nose and mouth. He pulled out a lock of her golden hair, plucked out her eyelashes one by one.
"Submit to me, damn you!"
She spat blood into his face again. His fury brought him close to killing her, but he held back. He slowly gouged blood from under her jagged and broken fingernails. He ran the dull knife up and down along her spine, probing at her vertebrae, tracing her shoulder blades and the numerous wounds in her back. Then with more devilish cruelty he slipped the knife into her anal passage and shoved it up, very slowly. She lunged so violently against her chains that she tore her wrists and ankles still further.
"Submit!" he roared.
Blood poured off her. A greasy slime of sweat covered her body. The knife twisted and turned up her ass; sawed back and forth.
"Submit!"
She nodded her head. He drew the dagger out of her. He tapped it on her thigh.
"I want to hear the words!"
She croaked in a cracked, hoarse voice.
"I cannot understand you."
She spoke in a broken whisper. Her eyes motioned for him to come close so that he could hear her words. He bent close to her mouth. "Speak, Russian bitch."
She spat into his eye.
"You piece of shit!" he roared.
He wanted very much to kill her, but he also did not wish to give her the release of death. Instead he played upon the sensitive areas of her flesh once again with the dull blade. He sawed the lips of her cunt, pressed the point against her clitoris and twisted it back and forth, forced the blade into her cunt with inhuman barbarity. She blacked out finally into a deep coma from which it proved very difficult to revive her.
"You will not sleep so easily!"
He began to force the blade under her toenails, most delicate of areas. As he stabbed blood from under her nails, a flicker of life ran through the battered frame. At last, much to her regret, she once more regained consciousness.
"I can see that it will prove difficult to break your will. All that I have done so far has failed to crack your spirit. Well, I have time and patience. There are things I can do to you that would break the heart of a god. You will know total fear and humility."
He decided to fuck her raw-nerved body. He opened wide her cunt lips, holding the punished petals apart with his fingers while he shoved his aroused cock deep into her cunt. He shoved it all of the way in and began to rip and gouge at her lacerated back with his hands as he took her.
As he plunged in and out of her in a brutal rhythm Natasha found the strength once more to spit into his eyes. He lost his erection. His cannon wilted and shriveled out of her.
"Vile, stinking, rotten bitch!"
He drew his sword and swung at her. Just as the blade approached her neck, he re-directed the blow. Her eyes showed no fear, only severe disappointment. He gripped her throat in his hand.
"You wanted me to kill you! You almost had your wish! Your release will not come so easily. You will die only after total submission, when desire to live in subjection as eagerly as you now wish to die!"
He gripped her tits and mashed them in his strong hands. He shoved a rag into her mouth, choking off her last means of resistance.
"I still intend to have that tender body of yours."
He mounted her again, after stoking up his fire by rubbing his long cock upon her flesh. He thought of how many other women he had broken to his power.
Countess Elizabeth Caranoff had been as stubborn as this one at first. He had trained her to walk holding her cunt gaping wide open and with her asshole exposed. She was constantly naked, kneeling at his feet to suck his boots or press delicacies between his lips with her own mouth while he fondled or beat her as he wished.
That one had been spirited and proud, but this one was impossible. Perhaps she was that rare animal, the woman who could not be broken?
"Now we shall see how you enjoy another fucking!"
It was a dull ride. Her broken body was spent of resistance and pleasure both. The Khan rode a dry hole, fucking a woman who was as still and juiceless as a corpse. But he finished the rape anyway.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The news that reached the Russian camp was heartening. The campaign was going well. The main forces of Tsar Ivan were inflicting severe defeats upon the enemy.
"It will not be long," General Makov said, "before we achieve complete victory."
To the others the signs were also heartening. They drank wine and vodka in the main tent of General Valrenkov and took pleasure in the soft bodies of the many wild camp women.
Valrenkov shifted upon the bed of furs, letting Nada get more readily at his cock. "Our tunneling is progressing well. The cannons are inflicting many casualties upon them, and our redoubts and entrenchments are now so well built that they can scarcely get at us to any extent with their own fire. Victory is so close that I can taste it."
General Makov pulled a wild Ukrainian girl down beside him and put his cock into her mouth. He seized her soft round tits in his hands and played with her to full contentment.
"Too bad we have so few Mongol wenches left. I could stand to rip one of them apart right now. That is a pleasure becoming rare."
Boris Valrenkov laughed at the impatience of his friend. "Very soon we will have all of the Mongol women we can handle, old warhorse."
"My Lord," Nada said," I have prepared an entertainment with a few of the surviving Mongol bitches. With your permission I will now entertain you."
"Permission granted, beautiful." He played with her moist tits, feeling fire race through the hot globes.
Two Mongol girls were brought in. Their bodies were heavily scarred with the marks of knout and iron; their eyes were furtive and afraid.
"These two will fight to the death," Nada explained. "They are cousins and as close as sisters. Driven by the desperation of fear, nevertheless, they will maim and mangle one another to death."
The girls were stripped naked, the guards who stripped them taking the opportunity to fondle them mercilessly. They were then equipped with gloves of fur embedded with sharp iron spikes-long and vicious spikes that could rip and rend flesh as easily as a sword can pierce parchment.
"You will fight with these iron-spiked gloves," Nada commanded, "until one or both of you are dead. Make any attempt to escape and a lingering slow death is yours. The winner will be given her life and turned loose. That is the way of it. Now begin."
The guards flogged the girls' backs with knouts, driving them forward. The girls were evenly matched, small but wiry Mongol maidens with a strong resemblance. They feinted and threatened, their faces sick with fear. They circled each other warily, trying to find a vulnerable opening.
"Stop it!" General Valrenkov commanded.
The others looked at him in perplexity as the bout was halted. Mercy for the Mongols was out of character for him.
"This is an excellent idea, Nada. But this is not the place for it. We will hold the battle in the open, within sight of the walls. Let the Mongols also enjoy the spectacle."
"A brilliant conception," General Dragomivokovitch said.
The party was moved to a hill and soldiers clustered around to watch the terrified girls fight to the bloody death.
"Fight, you shit!" Valrenkov bellowed.
The girls were forced once more to close upon one another. They circled and feinted, watching for an opening. One of them ran forward and threw a punch at her cousin, the taller of the two by a scant inch. The blow was dodged, but the retaliatory punch ripped the shoulder of the aggressor.
Wailing with fright, the shorter girl backed off, trying to staunch the flow of blood. Her cousin attacked with a wild flurry, but the wounded girl crouched down and shot a long straight thrust into her opponent's pubic area, riddling the sensitive mound with the spikes.
"Aaaiieeeeeee!"
As the taller of the two crumbled, she shot a hand out to her opponent's head, smashing one side of the girl's face to ruin. In return for this, two blows mangled her tits.
The two girls rolled about on the ground, locked together in a horrible mutilating tangle, pounding and thrusting and smashing with the spiked gloves, tearing each other to bits.
"One thousand rubles on the tall one," Makov shouted to Nada.
"I have not the sum. Will you bet for me, Boris?"
Valrenkov was in a festive mood and he excused her forbidden use of his first name.
"Very well. But you owe me a forfeit of my own choosing if I lose."
"I will gladly pay it."
He tapped her on her pert bottom. "You will pay it with this if you lose."
At last one hideously mangled girl arose from the pile of tormented flesh. It was the taller one, barely alive.
"Leave," Valrenkov commanded.
She staggered off away from the camp, bleeding to death slowly.
"You owe me the forfeit," Valrenkov reminded Nada.
"Let us go off to your tent so that you may collect it from me."
Valrenkov lifted her up and threw her over one shoulder He stripped her scanty garment off and slammed his hand across her bottom as he carried her to his tent. He threw her down upon the bed and then lunged upon her exquisite body.
"Now I shall collect from you."
He rolled her over and spread wide her bottom globes. He began to slap her bottom, first one side and then the other. She kicked about, enduring the brutal spanking. He kept on slamming the bouncy and shaking bottom halves, which began to move faster and faster as hot fluid began to spurt out of Nada's honey hole. A humming sound came from her throat, a deep wild sound of pleasure as she responded to the spanking.
"More, spank me harder!"
Her bottom rose and fell at a furious tempo. She used her fingers, dipping them up into her wide spread snatch and fingerfucking herself vigorously while the general concentrated upon giving her the most complete spanking possible. When he was at last satisfied he rolled her over on her back.
"Now I'll collect the rest of the forfeit."
Nada was a raging nymphomaniac. She wrapped her legs around him and gave him the wildest fucking he had ever experienced. Foam rolled out of her mouth as she shot up her hips to meet his descents. He began to come after a few frantic minutes of fucking, and then he shot his load into her as her hands raked his broad back from shoulder to waist.
Afterwards they lay together and drank vodka.
"When the city falls," Nada asked, "what will you give me?"
"I shall be generous with you on that day. There will be treasure in Ya-Kana for all of us."
"My father was a rich Cossack," Nada said. "He was a very successful raider. Then the Mongol dogs killed him. They will pay for that."
"You have already made a great many of them pay for that error."
He rolled her over and fanned his hands across her aching bottom. He massaged the spanked tissues. When he felt some of the heat leaving her crimson seat, he spanked her once again.
"I do not want you cooling off, my beauty."
He battered her ass until the cheeks once more glowed with fiery heat. More hot oil was gushed forth by her quim, as she chewed her own tits in her passion while finger fucking herself into a frenzy.
While the Russians were experiencing pleasure the Mongols were learning the meaning of despair. Turan Khan was finding discouragement eating at his guts. The siege was approaching the critical stage.
His personal physician was tending to Natasha Valrenkov, dangerously mistreated by Turan Khan on the previous day.
"She came close to eying. Sixty men is about all that the slut can handle. With the other things that were done to her as well, her survival is a miracle."
"See she does not die," Turan Khan ordered, "or you shall need a miracle as well."
The doctor prayed for the good health of his patient. As he worked on her body he caressed it. He let his hands move as they pleased over her cunt bush. He pressed a finger inside her pussy. Natasha spat in his face. As the enraged physician wiped away the gob, the Khan laughed at her spirit.
"The bitch will live, all right. She is too evil a slut to die."
"I shall live to play with your severed head!" she managed to gasp out.
"Or I with yours."
He left her and went to the walls with his retinue of guards. As he walked along the street a man darted out of an alleyway, slashing past two of Turan Khan's bodyguards with his sword, racing for the Mongol Khan. Turan Khan barely managed to draw his sword in time to deflect the assassin's attack.
"Get him!" he screamed.
The assassin tried to flee, his attack a failure. But he was surrounded and menaced from every side, backed against a wall.
"Take the wretch alive!"
That order cost another three lives before the sword was battered from the assassin's hand and he was overpowered. He was dragged before Turan Khan.
"Why did you try to kill me?" bellowed the Khan.
The assassin, a tall Mongol with a fierce moustache, a cavalry captain, was now quivering with fear.
"For money. The Russians will pay twenty thousand rubles for your head."
Turan Khan kicked the traitor in the balls; smashed him in the mouth.
"You will wish you had died, you pig!"
He was taken to the torture chambers. Yagii and Yarna personally saw to his destruction. Incensed at the cowardly attack upon their father, they set out to make an example of him to any others who might be tempted by gold.
They pulled his teeth out with pliers. They wrenched out every tooth. While Yagii accomplished this her sister shoved splinters of burning bamboo into the assassin's shoulders. They then went to work on his toenails. These were plucked out with tongs. They began with the small nails, and worked together, each of them stripping the nails from a foot.
"Mercy, mercy," he babbled.
They filled his mouth with salt and then gagged him. The salt burned his raw, bleeding mouth, where the teeth had been torn out by the roots. They pulled the nails out of his toes, and when that was complete, they did the same with his fingernails. As they tore his nails out they reduced him to a broken and bleeding thing.
After that it was the turn of the whips. They started with whips wrapped in velvet, whips that would sting without cutting so as to prolong the pain to the greatest possible extent.
Turan Khan oversaw the torture, making suggestions as they flogged the would-be assassin. He ordered his daughters to concentrate upon whipping the killer's balls. The bloodied man clawed at his bonds, mad with pain. They salted the raw tips of his fingers and toes to increase his suffering.
"Make the bastard wish he was dead!"
Turan Khan stirred the hot irons in the brazier. He wanted them white hot for this rebel traitor. Turan Khan had found an enemy he could strike back at; rip and rend as he could not rip and tear the army outside his walls. It gave him deep satisfaction, and he entered into the torture personally. He selected an iron that was white hot, a diamond-headed iron that could burn a man down to the bones.
"Stand back, I want to get at that dog myself!" Turan Khan advanced on the wretch, holding the iron close to his eyes.
"I do not intend to blind you, I will save that for the last. But I will show you what it means to attempt to kill your lawful Khan."
He shoved the iron between the halves of the soldier's chest and drew it down to his groin, until the pubic hairs flared up and burned. The man passed out with a shudder that informed Turan Khan of imminent death.
"The pig is almost finished. I do not want him passing out of my hands so easily."
"Rely on us father," Yarna assured him. "He will live many days to regret his rash act."
"Find out if there were others who put him up to it. If there are, promise him his life for divulging their identities. If not, torture him to death very slowly."
Turan Khan left the torture chamber, confident in the ability of his two cruel daughters to follow his wishes explicitly.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Yagii and Yarna plucked hairs from Princess Natasha's golden thatch. They hated her blonde loveliness, and they delighted in the slow depilation of her beautiful pussy pelt. The princess moaned and writhed under the skilled onslaught of their merciless hands. The torture was endurable, but she knew that worse was to come. She awaited the return of their father from the battlements with sheer, mind-destroying terror. As the fortunes of the city sank and imminent annihilation approached, he became more and more brutal toward the prisoners and slaves. It was unlikely that any of them, including herself, would live to be freed.
Yagii scratched the golden girl's navel, clawing the puckered belly button with her talons until it was a raw piece of skinless flesh.
"How easily this soft bitch's skin comes loose. I could flay her alive with naught but my nails!"
She flicked out her tongue and ran it into her evil sister's earlobe. Yarna purred and rubbed her thigh into Yagii's hip. They rubbed flesh together, grinding juice-spurting cunts into one another, hair, entangling. They grasped each other by handfuls of pale ass flesh and locked in a passionate embrace. Their heated tits were grasped, fondled, shaped and clawed. Their claws were equally active upon the body of the Russian noblewoman. They raked her globes until the blood ran in streams down to her half-torn-away cunt bush.
"Let us show the pig some of the ingenious games that await her," Yagii suggested.
Her older sister agreed this was what she wanted. It was dull and boring sport indeed to torture the princess, whose loveliness was reserved for their father to decimate. It would be far less tedious to rip and mangle the flesh of one of the slaves.
They chose a stocky, darkeyed peasant girl with enormous bulbous tits and long, curly, black hair hanging down to her waist. She was an ideal specimen, and her body had an unwashed odor that increased the pleasure of working upon her. They hung her by her hair, her hands manacled behind her back with heavy chains, her feet locked into iron shackles and spread wide-chained to bolts in the stone floor of the torture chamber. Yagii fondled the heavy tangled ass of pubic hair that smelled from lack of washing, running her long, pointed tongue into the growth; terrifying the captive with her depravity. She sucked the heavy, full lips of the sex gash and fingered the ripe nipples which were so large that she could hardly fit her palm upon one.
"This pig is perfect for our games. What say we collect her pelt?"
Yarna shoved a massive wooden penis slowly up the ass of the screaming peasant girl. The long, thick wooden thing filled out the tight and virgin orifice, enlarging and extending it, sending a shock of pain beyond belief through the sufferer as her rear channel was scraped raw and bloody and strained at the fleshy lock that held it in place.
Yagii stuffed a soiled and filth-smeared rug into the unfortunate girl's mouth.
"Yes, I think her pelt would be a worthy addition to our collection. I'm going to remove it." She selected a small knife with a long, thin and highly tempered blade from among a collection on a bench. She ran it along the girl's fleshy thigh, drawing blood and demonstrating the sharpness of the instrument.
"What are you going to do to her?" asked the terrified princess.
"Collect her pelt, as I've said," replied Yagii. She drew a line in the girl's bottom to increase her terror. Then she traced around the growth of pubic hair, very slowly and thoroughly. A small trickling of blood ran off from the cutting at various points. Once more the blade touched the girl, this time carving an inner trace around the clit. Then the blade was pressed under the outer tracing and very slowly the hairy sheath of black fur between the inner and outer slicing, her rich pubic pelt, was skinned off of her body. She lashed out at her bonds, hurtling her form back and forth against their confinement until the blood ran from the black, bleeding gashes ripped into her ankles. She came close to scalping herself in her dire extremity. But she could not avail against their total domination of her bound body, and in a few minutes of horrible work Yagii had cut off the cunt hair "scalp," and brandished it triumphantly aloft for the princess to admire.
"Oh, God! No, no, no!"
"Why do you scream so, royal slut? It is not your golden bush that we have collected, though I think that when he finishes with you our noble father would grant us the prize for our collection."
The sadistic Yarna rubbed a generous handful of salt and spices into the raw, flayed flesh. The girl lapsed into a coma upon the completion of this treatment.
"What do we do to her next?"
Yarna thrust three fingers up her sister's wet gash.
"Do whatever you want to do, my pet."
Yarna donned a pair of oxhide gloves, the palms of which were studded with sharp pins. She thrust her hands between the girl's thighs, piercing the tender flesh of inner thighs, withdrawing her hands and once more grasping rich, handfuls of the peasant girl's flesh. She scraped raw the tender thighs, and then fondled the buttocks, riddling them with hundred of holes, catapulting the girl awake with the new surge of pain. Her bottom a riddled, blood leaking pincushion, the girl screamed as her blood spilled down her thighs. The grasping hands roamed over her flesh, sinking new holes into her, squeezing her big tit globes until the entire surface of her body was coated with blood.
"Stop it, for mercy's sake, stop it," screamed the horrified princess.
"We Mongols know not the meaning of the word, vermin. We neither ask for mercy, nor do we grant it." Yagii kicked the dangling slave girl in the cunt. She screamed and passed out once more. "What mercy will be granted us when our city falls to your men?"
"Ahh! You admit that your fortress is doomed," chortled the princess." I knew it was but a matter of time. Soon you and all of your cursed people will be screaming for pity. But there will be no pity for such trash!
Yarna grabbed the princess' nipples and pulled at them until it seemed she would tear them from the body of the noble woman.
"I will show you what it means to mock us!" She whipped new patterns into the curvaceous ass of her victim, whose rear was already a fantastic network of hundreds of whip scars. She knocked open half healed weals and cut away small bits of skin and flesh. The princess bore the first series of blows in stoic silence, before she was forced by the unrelenting flogging to give vent to a series of horrid screams.
"No difference between the screams of a princess and the shrieks of a peasant!"
An iron rod was thrust up into the well-abused gash of the princess. Yagii spun it around inside the distended sheath, widening the hole for her father. There were a score of lusty young warriors as well, awaiting their turn to rape the princess. The rod showed traces of blood when the vicious girl withdrew it from the cunt of her prey.
The babbling of the princess amused the tyrannical pair. But they had to finish their work with the fleshy young peasant. They assaulted her bleeding body, raking deep furrows into her flesh with iron combs. They ploughed and gashed her flesh, tearing up the ivory meat that had everywhere been covered with a film of blood. At last the girl swooned, insensible, and it was apparent that she was unfit for further punishment. Yagii turned her over to a squad of archers to toy with.
Even as the princess suffered and endured, her ordeal was nearing its end. The siege was drawing to an end. But the Mongols found some cause for jubilation. One of the tunnels was detected, and a countermine dropped down to meet it. A charge of powder was exploded, collapsing the tunnel that the Russians were digging under the walls. Assuming that this was the sum total of the enemy's efforts and that they had defeated this attempt, the Mongols wildly rejoiced.
Although weakened by hunger, they had hope of holding out. A sortie was attempted, and it appeared that the foe had been demoralized. The horsemen drove deep into the Russian infantry.
But it was a ruse, the Mongol horsemen were cut off, surrounded, and liquidated. Still, it could not alter the fact that the tunnel had been destroyed. Perhaps the city would hold out until help arrived?
The Mongols had no way of knowing that no help would be forthcoming. Tsar Ivan's personal operations had been totally successful. He sent ten thousand men, enough to make good the losses of the besieging force.
A celebration was held in the Russian camp. A hundred Mongol girls were nailed to wooden X crosses within sight of the walls. They were flogged, branded and raped by thousands of soldiers. Boiling oil was poured down tender throats, cunts were scraped and whipped, breasts were flogged to ruin. The generals watched from the hill upon which they had destroyed the living mountain of enemy women.
They rode the backs of young, beautiful Mongol virgins, whipping their asses raw with spiked clubs, pounding the yellow flesh to pulp. They twisted brutal bits in the mouths of the girls, making the blood splash and run down their chins. They dug spurs into sweat-sheened, quivering and exhausted thighs, digging in and raking the flesh with sharp spurs.
Nada rode the back of a young Mongol boy, using his prick to guide him. She jerked and yanked on his cock, making him spray his seed upon the ground as she twisted an iron bar shaped like a phallus up his ass, inflicting terrible hurt upon him. She pounded his back, raked his shoulders to pieces and chewed away bits of skin and flesh from his muscular body. She gnawed his shoulders and bit loose hunks of his flesh until he collapsed from loss of blood. She threw him head first down a latrine, letting him smother in filth.
She downed a skin of vodka, feeling the strong brew burn into her vitals. She wanted more massacre. She went to work upon the girls suffering upon the crosses. She poured vodka into the cunt of one girl who had been nailed head down. She was rewarded with a wild, piercing scream. Nada ripped the girl's thighs, and then whipped her tits and belly with chains. She shoved the chain into the raped, wide open cunt. She forced it into the sperm dripping orifice, link by link, until the shape of the thing bulged at the girl's expanded belly, and not another bit of it could be crammed in.
Nada whipped and branded, thrusting hot irons into the tender clefts between breasts and buttocks. She burned her initial into many pairs of buttocks and into many shapely breasts. It mattered not. All of these girls were destined for death, so that death could be made of interest and pleasure to their executioners.
From their walls the Mongols sent up a wild howling, a great scream of rage. In short order captives upon the battlements of the city were enduring horror to rival that of the Mongol girls.
"Do they never run out of prisoners?" Cursed General Valov.
"They have thousands of slaves and serfs," explained General Makov, who spurred on his failing mare with an application of the knout.
Each side vied with the other in the horrors it could inflict upon the prisoners. In the end the captive girls of the Russians were finished off with flaming darts, a slow and lingering death. For some it took more than an hour for the end to come.
Watching bitterly from their battlements, Yarna and Yagii vowed to make the princess pay with a drop of blood for every drop spilled by a Mongol. They had no idea that their time had come, and the city would fall upon the following day. But, the blessing of death upon that horried day was not to be their fate, worse things awaited them.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The mines exploded deep within the ground, under the western walls of Ya-Kana. No further tunneling had been detected, the mine that had been detected was a blind, a ruse. A great breech was torn in the walls and through it the Russian hordes flooded. Arrows cut them down in the hundreds, but they drove through and closed with their hunger-weakened opponents. They drove back the desperate Mongols and made a path for the cavalry to enter the fray. They drove along the walls for the main gates, driving back the Mongols step by step. Hundreds of the weakened defenders were cut down in hand-to-hand combat, and it was soon apparent that the last hours of the city had arrived.
On the ramparts of the walls the Khan, surrounded by his picked troops, rained arrows and boiling oil down upon the Russians massed below, killing some of his own troops with the wild fire in his frantic efforts to stem the advance of the enemy. But soon there were thousands within the walls, ignoring the hail of arrows from above. The gates fell to them, after three countercharges of the Khan's horsemen foundered when the weakened mounts gave out from lack of fodder. Over mountains of their own dead the Russians overran the main gates and opened them. At once the Cossack cavalry corps came thundering through. The Mongols fell before the Cossacks on better conditioned mounts.
Turan Khan realized that it was all over. He made his way along the walls with his picked force, and descended into a safe avenue to organize the battalions coming from the unassailed walls. He positioned them in the house and upon the roofs to ply their bows. The able-bodied women were also assigned bows and thrown into the conflict. But it was useless, their fate was sealed. They were outnumbered and weakened by hunger. The enemy would prevail in hand-to-hand action.
Within the quarters of the Khan a strange action took place. The spies within the walls had succeeded in corrupting several of the guards with promises of reward and safety for themselves and their families if they aided the Russians by rescuing the Princess Natasha.
They had agreed to this, and the final attack was the signal to them to launch their treachery.
Natasha hung from stout leather cords by her massive and magnificent tits. The cruel daughters of her chief enemy were determined to wrench her free from her magnificent orbs if the final hour of the city had indeed come. They had nothing to lose by doing so, and it gave them a measure of comfort to mutilate her before they perished.
Suddenly there was pandemonium and confusion. A half dozen of their own guardsmen came storming into the torture chamber, cutting down the confused and disbelieving torturers in a swirl of flashing swords. Yagii sprang forward with a curse, brandishing her knife. But one of the soldiers dealt her a blow to the belly with the hilt of his sword, laying her low in the dust. If they took the daughters of the Khan to the enemy general alive, they would be well rewarded and their survival would be assured. Her sister was also battered down, and when the princess was delicately freed from her dangerous fix the two girls were bound and gagged, trussed up like pigs to be delivered to the foe for slaughter.
The small party took up position in the residence of one of the spies within the city. They sealed themselves within the treacherous Mongol nobleman's secret chamber and waited the arrival of the Russians in safety while maddened and bewildered patrols scoured the area for the rescued Princess Natasha Valrenkov and the kidnapped daughters of Turan Khan.
The last news that Turan Khan heard before his death in the battle was of the plight of his daughters and the rescue of the woman he had intended to kill with his own hands; slitting her throat as the rescuers were close enough to witness it before throwing himself on his sword to avoid capture.
Now, due to the treachery of a few base betrayers the enemy would take his precious children alive, and his victim had escaped him. Howling in madness, his mouth frothing and the veins pounding in his temples, he hurled himself into the thick of the fray, driving forward upon the enemy swords, without attempting to cover himself from their blades. He took five of them with him as he went into the next world in bitter defeat.
The battle lasted for many hours. As the Russians burned out their stubborn foes, it became a massacre. A few hundred horsemen managed to escape as several thousand horse and foot soldiers bolted through a few of the sally ports in the south wall. Most were cut down, but a small group managed to make good their flight.
Many thousands of women and children killed themselves. Others fell alive into the hands of their enemies. The soldiers took out their hatred and sorrow over losses upon their captives. They celebrated the victory upon helpless bodies. They avenged the atrocities committed by the Mongols with atrocities of their own devising.
General Valrenkov witnessed a half hundred Mongol women stretched out in the city's great square with a hundred or more of his men lined up before each sweat-sheened and shattered body. They were fucked and fucked and fucked. Great pools of come ran out of their gaping, enlarged cunts. Their splayed legs were covered with come. Gallons of the hot, jetting sperm flooded down anguished throats.
Those girls who lived through this ordeal were strung up by their wrists for target practice. Arrows were notched back on the bowstrings of experts to be sent hurtling into bottom globes and tits. Arrows were embedded in tender bellies and smooth thighs. Blood ran from numerous wounds as each body was riddled with a dozen or more of the long shafts fired from powerful Cossack-designed bows. The writhing, blood-smeared girls slowly screamed their lives away. An arrow buried in the guts usually sufficed to dispatch them with horrid slowness.
A girl was dragged behind the horse of a drunken Cossack as he raped her mother. Footmen lashed her bloody with whips and chains, and one leaped upon her, riding her for a hundred or more paces as he whipped her tits to bloody ruin.
Heads were stuck upon spears and pikes. Girls were hung from windows by their tits, and arrows were fired by the dozens into their ass halves.
"This is indeed a great victory," shouted General Dragomivokovitch to his commander, as he arose from the raped body of a Mongol beauty.
"Have you seen any sign of the princess, or heard any word concerning her fate?"
Dragomivokovitch shrugged his shoulders. He reeled drunkenly away from the raped body of his victim, motioning to one of his men to dispatch her with his sword. The head was hacked loose and the soldier ran off, holding aloft his prize.
"I've seen nothing and heard nothing. I think she must be dead. I don't see how she could survive this carnage."
Boris stroked his beard. "I have agents within these walls. I instructed them to save her and promised a huge reward if they could do so. They assured me they had a plan."
Valrenkov rode on. As he emerged into a street filled with hacked up bodies, he encountered a group of his soldiers escorting a party of men holding aloft special safe conduct banners, an agreed-upon signal of immunity to be used for protection by the spies when the city fell. He could see the Princess Natasha among the party. Valrenkov whooped with joy, and pressed a waterskin filled with vodka to his lips.
Vanu, the head of the spies within the city's walls scurried up to the general and prostrated himself humbly before him.
"Vanu, the merchant, your loyal and obedient servant. Not only do I have your kinswoman, rescued from the clutches of the enemy, but also the daughters of the enemy leader, Yarna and Yagii, the daughters of Turan."
The cringing, subservient man pointed out the two kicking and threshing spitfires. Valrenkov dismounted and ran forward. He seized their tits, and spat into their faces. He clawed their bodies and pounded their asses with his sword scabbard. Their ends would be slow and drawn out. He turned to Princess Natasha, shocked at her condition and wondering if she would survive.
Natasha smiled at him, wanly. She coughed, and reeled in the supporting grip of the agents who held her.
"Have no fear for me, great victor. I shall live to strip every inch of skin from the bodies of these vermin, to hack them to pieces, to rip out their vitals."
She took a knife from one of the spies and slashed Yarna's tits with it, slicing the proud orbs to bloody shreds. She flicked away a small piece of the left nipple.
"I only regret that I failed to see the death of their damned father."
"His head is being carried around the city upon the point of one of our soldiers' spears. I shall have it pickled for you. It will accompany you to your father's estate."
"Along with these two, kinsman. I intend to see that all of their many kindnesses toward me are repaid."
Many hours later a procession rode off from the ruins of the burning city, the loud revelry and massacre. Natasha Valrenkov was going home to her revenge.
