The sun set quickly, bringing with it the grey twilight that heralded approaching winter without fail. Anna had heard stories that farther to the north there were nights where the sky was white, but she'd only ever seen the grey. It reflected her thoughts: grey and empty, with approaching chill. More than once her brother had roughly spanked her naked rear to return her to reality, but she didn't want to remain there, so she would slip back into herself until the next sharp slap.
Anna's cunt was dripping, both from her own juices, brought on by reflex, and her brother's seed as it oozed from deep within her. She knew that it dripped on the helpless face of Ilona, Vladimir's unfortunate young bride, who was even now being roughly fucked by her husband. The girl had no experience with another woman, so unlike Noor, she simply lay there and squirmed as each drop fell on her cheeks and lips.
Both girls were exhausted from the marathon sexual session, although Anna was resigned to the fact that the humiliation would go on for hours to come. "St. Ivan, girl, you're like a dead fish!" cried Anna's father as she indifferently pumped her mouth down on his hard cock, still unspent even after all this.
His balls were drawn up until they practically vanished, and Anna knew he had a large crop of semen brewing.
For some reason, tonight of all nights, she did not want her father to spunk inside her, and the taste of his cock was like poison. "Ah, they're through their first surprise," grunted Vladimir with a laugh.
"Once the pain and fear are gone, they're only holes to fuck." Sergei Ivanovich laughed cruelly. "Then maybe we should give them another little surprise," he said wickedly. Pulling away from Anna he walked over to the table and poured himself another glass of vodka.
"By God, if I want a hole to fuck, I'll go home and stick it to your whore of a mother. I want young flesh screaming beneath me, and that's what I'll have." Grabbing Anna roughly by the hair he yanked her to her feet. "Go on, have a drink. It'll revive your spirits." Anna dumbly took the proffered glass and poured a sizable shot.
She'd had vodka before, although only sips here and there, but at this point she couldn't think of any reason to stay sober. It certainly wasn't the worst vice of the night.
As she tipped the burning liquor into her mouth and swallowed, her father was muttering something to Vladimir, who grinned and nodded. "Go on Anna, sit this one out," he said with the smile still on his face. "A few more shots like that and the bitch may come crawling back for more," laughed Sergei Ivanovich as he pulled Ilona from the floor by her hair, causing her to cry out hoarsely.
She was shivering and seemed unable to stand; a thin trickle of red-tinged fluid seeped from between her thighs. The small part of Anna's brain that hadn't fled felt sorry for this girl, older than Anna herself but much less experienced. But Anna also felt an attraction to her, to her pale skin and large slightly drooping breasts, so different from her other lover. She longed to teach Ilona how to make love, not roughly as she had learned, but softly and sweetly.
She longed to take the girl in her arms and soothe away her tears. As she absently took another gulp of the numbing draught, she idly began to stroke her moist slit, watching what would happen next. Anna's brother had pulled Ilona down onto his upthrust cock while her father nodded approvingly. Now Sergei Ivanovich knelt behind the prostrate girl and began to roughly work his cock into her virgin asshole, brutally forcing his way in as Ilona writhed and wailed for mercy.
Anna could tell how exhausted the girl was, for even in a panic Ilona could manage little in the way of struggle. Soon Anna's father and brother were both firmly implanted in Ilona from either side and began to work up a rhythm of thrusts which took their victim's breath away. Anna, without noticing, had both taken another large slug of vodka and worked two fingers up into her own cunt, soothing away the ache of her brother's penetration.
After what seemed like an age, Sergei Ivanovich stiffened and grunted several times as he buried himself up to the hilt in his son's wife's anal passage, and Anna could tell he was pouring spurt after spurt of his jism into Ilona's violated bowels. When he pulled himself out Ilona was a mess, lying sobbing on her husband's chest while he kept up a steady pattern of thrusts.
"Get over here and clean us off," said Anna's father breathlessly. She obediently started to move toward him but found that her legs were no longer beneath her, collapsing to the floor while Vladimir and his father crowed with laughter.
"I hope she's not too drunk to be of use," said Sergei Ivanovich, and Anna felt, as if from miles away, her father hauling her head up to his crotch and pressing his half-flaccid shaft into her mouth.
She lost sight of the world and could only feel her father's cock grow in her throat and then, as even that swam away, she tasted like a memory the musky harshness of Ilona's rectum on her tongue. Then Anna slept, for how long, she could not say. When she came too, Anna was lying where the men had left her, bent over a stool, still naked. As her senses returned she stayed still, hoping that perhaps she might play dead for a while longer.
Finally, however, she noticed that there was no other noise in the room but soft breathing, so she cautiously opened one eye, then the other.
It was morning, by the angle of the sun, and as she gingerly looked around, Anna saw that she was alone. The breathing was coming from the other room; the room in which Anna found herself was empty but for puddles of wetness, an empty overturned vodka bottle, and various scraps which could have been clothing.
Anna's head felt fuzzy but altogether more pleasant than her body, which ached from her odd position and from other things as well. As she stood slowly, feeling her insides expel fluid from both holes, she wondered what they had done to her after her collapse.
Finally she made it into the other room to see Ilona spread out on a bed, still naked, still asleep. Anna didn't want to wake the poor girl, but she felt it would be better to do so. She gently shook Ilona's slim shoulders, noticing as she did how the girl's full breasts wobbled seductively. Ilona's eyes fluttered and she moaned something and weakly tried to roll away, then seemed to see who was shaking her and relaxed.
"They're gone," she said. It wasn't a question. "Thank Jesus and all the saints. I thought I was dead. You almost were." Anna nodded rather than saying anything, sitting on the edge of the bed. She felt rather than saw Ilona's stare on her own body, taking in Anna's figure, the slope of her buttocks, the perky arch of the young maid's breasts.
Anna still said nothing but waited until her brother's wife's gaze met her own. "We survived," she finally said simply. "Maybe I was wrong when I told you it would be better this way. They.
they're savages." Then she noticed Ilona was weeping softly, her eyes still gazing at Anna's but filling with tears. "Beautiful one, what is it?" Anna cooed comfortingly. "You. you are lucky that you can take all that and still.
I was terrified, and the pain, it." Tears cut the girl's words off as her head sank weakly back to the bed and she sobbed, too tired to even turn away. Anna lay beside her and held her close, whispering soft words of comfort, letting Ilona cry.
Her tears might heal, thought Anna, wishing she too could cry. Finally Ilona's breathing slowed and became more even, and she hugged Anna back, pressing their naked bodies together as if to fuse them into one. And despite all that had happened, Anna felt arousal stirring at the base of her thighs, tingling up her abdomen and down her legs. Without being able to help herself, Anna began stroking Ilona's soft skin, the heat between her legs growing with every second.
For a while the two girls lay there, Ilona still, Anna lightly petting the other girl's back. Then Ilona raised her head to look into Anna's eyes again and this time the sorrow in her face was tempered by desire. "I. I know it's wrong, but." Anna didn't listen to another word; she simply kissed Ilona softly, accepting anything the other girl might desire.
Their bodies both still ached from the assaults of the previous night, but they gently caressed each other with feelings of comfort more than passion. When Anna's fingers finally made their way down to Ilona's now-moist pubis, the feeling was entirely different from her deep passion for Noor. It was like she and Ilona were the same person and anything Anna did to Ilona she was really doing to herself.
As her nimble fingers found their way up and into Ilona's ravaged passage, Anna reached with her other hand and found Ilona's, then guided it to her own warm entrance. They both were careful, not knowing what the other might be feeling, as each girl slowly stroked her opposite's aches away. Anna gently suckled at Ilona's ample breasts, causing her to arch her back with a shiver, not of pain this time, but of pleasure.
Soon, Anna was between Ilona's creamy thighs, using both hands to pull her gently open while her tongue washed away the taint of semen until Ilona tasted of nothing but arousal. As her orgasm approached, Ilona reached down with her own hands to run them through Anna's long hair, matted from the wild night.
Anna could taste the other girl's pleasure on her tongue like honey, flowing thick and sweet. Then Anna dove her tongue into Ilona's vaginal passage and ignited the flame.
Ilona's wide hips twitched once, the only outward sign of the orgasm that warmed her like a silken blanket. Even at the source, between her legs, Anna could only feel a quiet comfort, not the impassioned spasms she had expected.
Anna continued to gently tongue Ilona's depths and was rewarded by a sigh of pleasure and a flow of sweetness. When Anna had kissed her way back up Ilona's ample curves to gaze the girl in the eye, Ilona was smiling. "How can something so gentle have come from those two." Anna put a finger to Ilona's lips to stop her saying more.
"Forget about them. You're safe now, my lovely one." Again, Anna thought about Ilona, and she knew that she did not love her. She felt for Ilona, certainly, in the same way she might feel for a sister, and she was attracted to Ilona's prettiness. But as the two girls slipped back into sleep, cradled in each other's arms, Anna did not regret making love with Ilona, nor did she regret not having come to orgasm herself, because she knew that all this was nothing compared to Noor.
Ilona's dreams might have been about many things, but as Anna slept, she dreamed of a horse-maid riding across the steppe, dark hair flying in the wind.