Saved at the last minute

“You don’t have to do this!” I beg my attackers helplessly. My request is met with another stinging palm to my ass. I let out another painful cry.

“I thought I told you to shut your fucking mouth!” The one holding me down barks. “Communist slut.”

“Don’t worry.” He growls. “We’re going to shut you up for good. Bring that rope over here.”

I’m yanked to my feet, and I struggle in his grip while the other approaches me with a noose. I fight with everything I have to keep my chin pressed tightly against my body when he tries to slip it over my head, but my valiant efforts fall short. They cinch the noose down tight around my throat and give it a good yank. The coarse rope burns my sensitive skin.

“Walk.” I’m ordered with a sharp kick to the back of the leg.

“Can I at least pull my pants up?” I whimper.

“Fuck no!” One of them says with a laugh. “This will make it more humiliating.”

“Ja!” The other adds. “Seeing you like this will make others think twice about fighting for Bolshevik scum!”

“I thought I told you to move!” One of them barks and kicks me again, prodding me in the direction of the road.

“Here is a good, strong limb for us to decorate!” One of them says, leaning his rifle on a tree and approaching me. He grabs the rope and pulls it even tighter, so it’s **** me, then throws it over the branch. The other places a stool from the barn on the ground.

“Up.” He says coldly, motioning with his rifle.

I step up onto the stool with a gulp. I shiver with dread, knowing that this is the end for me.

“Any last words, cunt?” He asks.

He lets out a cry when a gunshot rings out and rips into his lower back. He drops his rifle and a second shot hits his upper back and drops him. I whip my head around where the other is rushing desperately for the rifle against the tree. A third shot rings out, smashing into the tree and freezing him up. The fourth hits him in the chest. Dadonov emerges from the brush, firing his revolver with his left hand. His right arm hangs bloody and limp at his side. Dadonov puts two more in the fascist, and keeps pulling the trigger even though it only clicks. He looks at his revolver, grunts angrily, then whips it at the enemy, who is already on his way to the ground.

“Tatya!” Dadonov cries out and rushes to my side, hastily trying to take out his pocket knife. He winces when he uses his bad arm to help open it, then cuts my hands free. I waste no time pulling the noose off my head, jumping down from the stool, and pulling my pants up.

Dadonov offers me his handkerchief, which I take to wipe the cum away from my face.

“Are you okay?” He asks. I hug him, burying my face into his neck and crying.

“I’m better than them.” I tell him. “You saved me!”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do it sooner.” He apologizes. “They were too close to you, and I didn’t want to hit you. I can’t shoot for shit with my left hand.”

I pull back from him. “You’re hurt!”

“I know.” He says. “They got me when they jumped us. My shoulder is ruined.”

“Here, sit down.” I urge him, and help him to the stool, then rush over to the bodies of the fascists and start digging through their gear.

I rush back to Dadonov when I find a first aid kit, and he winces in pain when I touch his wound.

“Hold still.” I order, trying my best to crudely bandage it. He grits his teeth and nods.

“Don’t worry.” I tell him. “I think you’ll live. You’d better get back to Luda’s. She can fix you up better than I can. I can round up the others.”

“Take my rifle.” He offers me, and points with his good hand. “It’s no use to me anyways, with my arm like this.”

I rush to scoop up the SVT from where it’s leaning against a fallen branch and hurry back to Dadonov’s side, where he does his best to strip his gear for me.

“Be careful.” He urges me. “I don’t know how long we have before somebody comes looking for these two.”

“I’ll hide them really quick.” I assure him. “Now you need to get back and get some help!”

“Okay, okay. Just please be careful. I’m going.”