[The lofty and powerful female warrior Constantine was gang-raped by Ottoman barbarians!] [Author: Tongchi Jiaozhu]

Author: Tongchi Jiaozhu
Word Count: 20262

"You will return like lightning!"
"Heretics, you will surely suffer the thunderous wrath of the Father!"
In a winding line of refugees, a man looked back with tears in his eyes. The great city
was burning in flames, the firelight illuminating the entire sky, turning night into day.
"Your Majesty Ducas, your father, the great Byzantine Emperor, the holy heir of the Roman Empire, the glorious son blessed by
God , the solemn protector of the Orthodox Church, the saint beloved by all: His Majesty Constantine XI, gloriously died in battle within the city..." A middle-aged man in a purple robe said to the man before him
, his voice choked with sobs . "No, my father is not dead! Didn't they say no one found his body?" The man pointed to the great city burning in the flames. "Behold! My father will return like lightning! Behold , the Byzantines will return to Constantinople! The ancestors of Rome are protecting us!" The man merged into the ranks and continued walking into the distance. The North Star shone, as if guiding the crowd forward . The story dates back more than a month. ... "Your Majesty, Byzantine Emperor, we are herdsmen from the distant grasslands, we greet you!" A bearded man dressed in white silk robes and a white turban smiled and called out to the guards on the city wall. But the response was an arrow, flying like a meteor towards him, grazing his face before embedding itself in the ground, its tail feathers trembling. The bearded man touched his cheek; blood slowly seeped out, and a sharp pain shot through his brain. "Infidels! Go back to your grasslands! This is Constantinople, the city blessed by God, the seat of Holy Rome! If you dare take another step forward, the next arrow will pierce your throat, nailing you to a cross, so you can watch yourself bleed to death!" A young girl in silver armor roared fiercely from the city wall. Her angry shouts echoed through the air, conveying a palpable sense of fervent fighting spirit rather than feminine weakness. The defenders on the wall cheered in unison , clearly energized by the miraculous arrow. The girl drew her sword, and despite the dense enemy ranks before her, she roared, "God protects his followers! Kill! Kill! Kill!" The defenders on the city wall responded to her, shouting, "Kill! Kill! Kill!" A cacophony of swords rang out, and a chilling atmosphere filled the air. The defenders on the wall, their eyes bloodshot, seemed to be injected with adrenaline, letting out thunderous roars as they glared at the besieging forces below. The bearded man, protected by a troop of cavalry, retreated back to the golden tent. He asked sheepishly, "Who is that whore 's? The Byzantine emperor, a woman?" "Great Sultan," replied the general, "not so. She is the City Princess, that is, Constantinople itself. She rises and falls with the city of Constantinople . Her power comes from the prosperity of Constantinople and the emotions of its citizens; one could call her Her presence." "Then will she be our biggest obstacle to the siege?" another general, clad in white armor with his hair styled in a boat shape, answered. "I'm afraid so, Your Majesty the Sultan ." This general walked to a simple map and began to explain it to everyone. "This is Constantinople, a city that can be called an impregnable fortress! Most importantly, it's built at the tip of a peninsula, so the only area it needs to defend is its western side. However, the Byzantines built the western walls over a thousand years ago, which is probably not something we can conquer in a short time. Also, there's the terrain. We're on the Thracian plain; attacking Constantinople requires an uphill assault, while they attack from below, giving them a terrain advantage." His sword pointed again to the other side of the map: "North of Constantinople is the Golden Horn, here..." "It's a commercial center, with countless merchant ships coming and going normally. Unfortunately, our navy only has a numerical advantage, and the Byzantines have blocked the Golden Horn with iron chains across the river, rendering our large navy useless . To the south lies the Sea of Marmara, where the enemy holds the city walls. Our navy can at most cut off their supply lines. Your Majesty the Sultan, that concludes my introduction." Mehmed II stroked his beard, looking quite troubled, and said, "The only way to attack is from the west, is it? Can't we destroy the iron chains across the Golden Horn?" "I think not. The Zerana people are holding Galata on the other side, and Constantinople is on the other side..." "Never mind! Let's try! The Byzantines only have five thousand defenders, and even including those Italian merchants , they only have seven thousand. How can they resist my two hundred thousand troops?" At the Sultan's command, countless cannon fodder were driven by the Ottomans towards the towering city walls . They stared blankly at the distant city walls. Their sole mission was to exhaust the enemy's arrows and stamina, and to fill in the moat. The soldiers on the walls practically spitting fire. The clothing of the driven crowd was familiar; they were clearly Byzantines from nearby villages, but now they were being used as fodder by the Ottomans. "Fire! Shoot them all! We can't let them fill in the moat! Constantinople is behind us; we have nowhere to retreat. Do you want your families to end up like those below the walls?" A clear , girlish shout rang in the ears of every soldier on the walls. They turned to see a girl in silver armor surveying the walls. She drew her short sword and brandished it: "Archers, fire!" A rain of arrows arced gracefully, landing in the crowd. Blood blossomed among the ant-like masses, but was quickly silenced by new cannon fodder. However, this group of cannon fodder, armed only with wooden sticks and carrying sandbags, couldn't even get close to the moat before being shot dead on the way. But regular troops quickly replaced them. The next wave of bearded generals swallowed hard, looking at the ten-meter-high city walls in the distance. He was attacking uphill again, naturally at a significant disadvantage, but how could he disobey the Sultan's orders? A squad of light infantry, clad in leather armor and carrying small round shields, also slowly approached Constantinople, carrying sandbags. But under the arrows, they were no different from the cannon fodder.

Soon, they too abandoned the corpses of many of their comrades and fled back in disarray. However, they had at least moved
the sandbags forward a little further, making the towering fortified city seem like an impregnable holy city.
The Ottoman regular army numbered over two hundred thousand, not to mention the civilians they had brought along. Thus,
they relentlessly used human lives to clear away all obstacles in their path—traps, deer barriers, trenches. This
siege continued until nightfall. Due to malnutrition, most ordinary soldiers of this era
suffered from night blindness, making a night raid a complete fantasy for them.
The high-ranking officers of the defending army were somewhat worried. Constantine, sword at his side, pushed open the central command tent. At that moment,
the outstanding Genoese general, Guistiani, was discussing something with Constantine XI around a map.
"Your Majesty, when will the Western reinforcements arrive? Relying solely on the city's five thousand defenders to
resist the two hundred thousand infidels is nothing short of a pipe dream!" Gustavus Aristini stated
his opinion bluntly. He was an excellent general; even though he was of Genoese descent, he was willing to die for his
faith in this Christian holy city.
Constantine XI's face betrayed his weariness: "Alas, those bastards demand we return
to their heresy, but the citizens of the city strongly object; the vast majority are unwilling to change
their faith. However, even so, I agreed to the Papacy's proposal. Unfortunately, unfortunately,
we haven't seen the Catholic heretics' army yet."
"We can defeat these infidels even without them!" A young girl in silver armor
entered, travel-worn. She wiped the dust from her face, revealing her pretty features. She drew her short sword and
pointed to a corner of the map. It was springtime; how many infidels had they gathered? One hundred thousand, or perhaps two
hundred thousand ? Including their cooks, it's nearly three hundred thousand, isn't it? If they're trapped here, having endured a
harsh winter, how much food will they have left? Spring is the planting season; if they miss the planting season,
how many people do they plan to starve to death next winter?
The girl in silver armor removed her helmet and tossed her long, snow-white hair: "As long as we
persevere , under immense logistical pressure, they will surely return empty-handed."
Her voice seemed to possess a unique charisma, invigorating all the men present. They spoke in hushed tones, time slowly
passing . The girl gave Constantine XI a wink, and Constantine XI nodded subtly, indicating
he understood.
The crowd dispersed, and the two entered a dark room together. The girl glanced back cautiously and said in a low voice,
"Your Majesty, what I said just now was indeed true, but there's one thing I didn't mention."
"Oh? What important news requires you to personally bring me to this private place to say it?"
"I'm worried this might strain your relationship with General Gustavus Aquinas. Your Majesty, what is your opinion of
the Genoese ?"
"A disgusting bunch of parasites, bloodsuckers who only know how to borrow money, smiling on the outside but selling you to
the devil on the inside. If their parents had a price, they would have sold them for a good one."
"Pfft, Your Majesty may be exaggerating, but without a doubt, this is the nature of the Genoese.
However , Your Highness, Galata lies across the Golden Horn. Are you sure they won't betray us and let these
heretics in?"
Constantine XI chuckled in response to the silver-haired girl's question. "So that's what you mean. To
prevent these Satanists from betraying us, I only allowed the upright and valiant General Guistiani to lead his
troops into the city, while the Genoese were assigned to the less important Galata. They're just guarding
one end of the iron chain across the river; they won't betray us, will they?"
"I hope so! Once the enemy enters the Golden Horn, we'll be forced to fight on two fronts, and we simply won't have enough
troops to deal with them!" the silver-haired girl said worriedly. "Your Majesty, please rest early. I'm going to
take charge the night patrol."
"You should rest early too; after all, this is my city!"
"Your Majesty, I am the City Princess, a tireless being of fantasy. Even if the city falls, I only need
to sleep . Your Majesty is but a mortal; you should rest well." The silver-haired girl smiled faintly,
bowed to Constantine XI, and then stepped into the darkness.
The siege continued, but beneath this formidable fortress, the Ottomans outside could only sacrifice lives to
overcome the obstacles. Soon, even the moat outside Constantinople was completely filled in by the Ottomans.
Stilts and siege towers were pushed up, and Ottoman soldiers, like ants, clung to the stilts
, climbing up the towering walls. Flying stones, rolling logs, arrows, and even boiling water were constantly poured down from the walls, causing
the Ottoman soldiers below to scream in agony.
From a distance, Constantinople, the juncture of East and West, was now billowing with thick black smoke, and
the deafening battle cries could be heard even more than ten miles away. Time passed, and the sun hung high
in the sky . Constantine wielded her short sword, relentlessly cutting down the Ottoman soldiers who climbed the city walls. Her
silver armor was now stained with blood; countless bearded men had perished at her hands.
Constantine, panting heavily, charged towards the central army tent. She
pushed open the tent flap
, two gleaming swords in hand. "Your Majesty," she said , "I request permission to launch a counterattack. It is noon, the sun is at its strongest, and the enemy, attacking uphill, will inevitably be affected by the sun. Furthermore, they are preparing to retreat and
have lunch, and are exhausted and hungry. Besides, their numbers are too great; they certainly won't expect us to dare to launch
a counterattack on the very first day."
"Then," she replied, "I will entrust my personal guard to your command!"
"I will bring honor and victory to Your Majesty!" The girl rose, her hand on her sword, and walked towards the tent flap.
Following behind her was Ipas, the captain of Constantine XI's personal guard, who greatly
admired this spirited city princess and trotted to keep up with the silver-haired girl. "Your Majesty," he asked, "what tactics will we employ?"
"Stay close to me, don't fall behind, we'll break through them!" The silver-haired girl mounted her horse and led a cavalry unit of
three hundred men. This cavalry force was composed entirely of devout Catholics who believed they would
ascend to , making them extremely powerful in battle. This is precisely why they served as Constantine XI's personal guard.
The city gates slowly opened, and the Ottomans outside were astonished to find what seemed like an impregnable fortress to them.
The city gates suddenly opened. But before they could react, a silver-haired girl on a white horse
charged into the crowd like a silver lightning bolt. Behind her followed a banner with a double-headed eagle soaring in the azure sky
.
"Stay close, stay close, follow behind me!" the girl shouted, her silver figure transforming into a sharp
blade
that pierced the Ottomans' fatal weakness. From above, the cavalry looked like a hot knife through butter. The Ottomans cried out and scattered in all directions. Even
the reserve troops hadn't anticipated the Byzantines daring to launch a counterattack. Soon, the Ottoman
vanguard collapsed completely, crying out and running back, desperate to escape the terrifying
cavalry, like the scythe of death.
Mehmed II, of course, wouldn't allow this small force to wreak havoc on the battlefield. He gritted his teeth,
waved his hand, and soon a squad of white-robed cavalry charged out, eager to fight. They were from Egypt,
known as the Mamluks. Both Crusaders and Mongols had fallen to them, and Mehmed
II was very confident in his elite cavalry. However, the silver arrows traced a graceful arc and
galloped back to the city gate. Even if the Mamluks caught up, they were forced back by the volley of arrows from the city walls, and could only
watch helplessly as the siege equipment was destroyed by the Byzantines!
A deafening cheer erupted from the city walls; they celebrated the return of the Valkyrie. This
godlike action caused all the Byzantines on the walls to cheer, especially since their leader was a beautiful
young woman. The crowd cheered, and someone shouted, "Minerva! Minerva! Minerva!"
The knights following Constantine echoed His name in response to the crowd on the city walls: "Minerva
! Minerva!"
Meanwhile, in the Ottoman central camp, a different scene unfolded. Mehmed II slammed his fist
on the table: "That son of a bitch! He dared to kill my vanguard!"
Several bearded men exchanged glances, but one of them reluctantly stepped forward: "Your Majesty,
this time, this time we were simply caught off guard. We... we'll just have
reserves ."
However, the Sultan's prime minister interrupted the bearded general: "Your Majesty, I must tell you some
unfortunate news. A rebellion has broken out again in the Arab provinces. If we don't withdraw, the lack of supplies alone will be enough
to kill our massive army."
"Absolutely impossible!" Muhammad slammed his rough hand on the table. "I will fulfill the Ottoman Emperor
's dying wish. This is the last jewel of the so-called Eastern Roman Empire. You want me to abandon it in the wilderness?
How long will it take me to gather another 200,000 troops?" He clenched his fist and slammed it onto the
map , his voice almost like a beast's roar: "Attack! God bless you, my lads
!"
For the next two weeks, the two sides engaged in an extremely fierce battle. Ladders, siege towers, and even
tunnels were used by the Ottoman army. However, before this formidable city protected by God, humanity was so
insignificant. Muhammad even deployed his secret weapon, the Urban cannon, a terrifying weapon capable of firing 500-kilogram
shells , but even this could not break the will of the defenders. Muhammad was caught in a dilemma.
Constantinople, not far away, seemed so within reach, yet so impossibly distant. Muhammad slammed his fist on the table in
frustration : "What should we do now?"
Meanwhile, in Galata, a greedy Genoese merchant kept rubbing the gleaming gold coins in his hand, his
eyes brimming with undisguised greed. Surrounded by hundreds of chests of jewels, gold, and
silver , he couldn't help but let out a wicked laugh: "All of this is for me?"
The turbaned Ottoman nodded. "Of course, Your Excellency. If you can
ignore our march, we can offer you another generous reward after we pass."
The Genoese merchant's eyes lit up instantly. His breathing quickened, and he hurriedly asked, "Anything else?"
Realizing his lapse, he coughed lightly. "Heh heh heh,
even the greediest merchant wouldn't sell the noose that would hang him! What are you trying to do?"
The Ottoman began to speak eloquently: "My general has been forced to reach
the walls of Constantinople within three days, or he will be hanged. To save his life, the general has no choice but to beg for your help, as passing through
Galata is the fastest route."
The Genoese merchant greedily held up a finger: "Fifty chests of gold as the final payment, and I'll pretend I didn't see
you !"
"Deal, Your Excellency!"
…
A miracle that would shock the history of human warfare was born tonight. The Ottomans had prepared massive logs,
coated with butter, and placed them on the road, a waterway connecting the Golden Horn to the Sea of Marmara. If anyone were there that
night they would have witnessed this astonishing scene: enormous ships being pulled
ashore by a swarm of people, like ants, and then heading towards the Golden Horn. Mehmed II, with his brilliant idea,
had gained the upper hand .
"No, it's terrible! Warships! Warships! Ottoman warships have entered the Golden Horn! Our
supply lines have been completely cut off, and to the north, the Ottomans have landed there too!"
Constantine bit her lip, her face deathly pale, clearly aware of the
devastating blow this bad news would inflict on the morale of the defenders. She casually pulled a soldier aside and asked, "Does many people know this news?" "
Everyone, everyone knows... The Ottoman warships suddenly appeared in the Golden Horn, it's practically
a miracle . This news, this news, probably everyone knows it. Everyone says that God has abandoned us
..."
"Nonsense! We are devout believers in the Lord, how could we be abandoned by Him?" The girl tried hard to revive morale,
but this was clearly futile in the face of the obvious reality. Even if she talked herself hoarse, she couldn't make
the enemy troops outside the city disappear.
Where the defenders couldn't see, a bitter smile appeared on the girl's lips. If all else failed, if all else failed,
she would perish with the city! Could even Constantinople, which had existed for a thousand years, be destroyed?
The battle reached a fever pitch. The Ottomans' morale soared, while the Byzantines, conversely...
The atmosphere soared. Constantinople was now in dire straits, surrounded by enemies and starving.
Constantine XI summoned the city princess Constantine again, and the white-haired girl was astonished to find that His
Majesty had aged beyond recognition. Despite being an immortal being among the fantastical creatures, she
couldn't help but be moved by the scene before her: "Your Majesty, please take care of yourself! If it really comes to this,
let's abandon this city!"
Constantine XI's previously cloudy eyes sharpened: "This is the city of the Romans, and the last capital
of the Byzantine Empire . I would rather die here than flee here alive in a sorry state, or
become a prisoner of these heretics!"
His tone softened: "But you, Constantine, what do you plan to do then
? Even if you are a fantastical creature, these heretics are capable of anything!"
"Your Majesty, don't worry! I am the City Princess, they can't do anything to me!"
Constantine XI sighed: "Go out, let me see my city one more time."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
Constantine had only been gone a short while when Guistiania grabbed him. The brave Genoese general
grasped Constantine's hand, pleading, "Constantine, come back to Greece with me! This city, this
city cannot be defended! Let me bring Rome back to Genoa! Constantinople may fall, but Rome will never
perish!"
"I'm sorry, dear Guistiani," Constantine replied, "I cannot go with you. I will
defend our city with the citizens of Rome. If you wish to make the same choice as your Genoese compatriots
, then so be it! The Ottomans do not have enough navy to blockade the waterways." Constantine then departed
.
The battle continued, and the Byzantines' numerical disadvantage became increasingly apparent. More and more
Ottomans stormed the city walls, not to mention the enemy troops from the Golden Horn threatening the defenders' flanks.
Even more critically, the western walls succumbed to the relentless bombardment of Urban cannons. The Byzantines
were forced to retreat to the inner city, but this did little to change the course of the battle; Ottomans continued to pour in.
The garrison cried out in alarm, "The Janissaries! Those damned blasphemers!"
Though cursing, the garrison instinctively took a few steps back before bravely charging forward.
With Constantinople behind them, they were well aware of Mehmed II's order: "Conquer
Constantinople , and your swords will not be sheathed for three days." However, the exhausted garrison was clearly no
match for the elite Janissaries; they were driven back in disarray, even as the inner walls were now on the verge of collapse.
Constantine drew her two short swords and charged forward, like a graceful dancer twirling on a blade
, her body fluttering like a butterfly among flowers. Spurs of blood bloomed around her, and the white-turbaned
guards clutched their necks, groaning in pain. The two short swords swung through the air
, slashing, parrying, and thrusting, felling the Ottomans around them.
Even the Janissary guards, who had pledged their lives to God, showed fear. They glanced at
their comrades, but still mustered their courage and charged forward with their spears. A dense barrage of spears surged upwards towards the silver-haired
girl. However, the silver-haired girl, clad in light armor, charged towards them. She bent her knees and
leaped into the air, the armor plates on her silver skirt reflecting the sunlight, shimmering
like a Valkyrie descending to earth. The short swords slashed across the Janissary guards' throats,
devouring .
Blood stained Constantine's silver armor, and bloodstains adorned her small face. She
exhaled a deep breath. The Ottomans were fleeing in disarray, but then an unexpected event occurred
. The Genoese mercenaries nearby cried out in panic, retreating, while the Genoese
mercenaries guarding the inner city opened the city gates. Constantine's blood-red pupils contracted.
"What's going on?" she grabbed a soldier and asked urgently.
"General Gustiniani is dead! The Genoese have lost their leader and are trying to escape
!"
A continuous stream of Ottomans poured into the city through the Genoese-guarded gates. Constantine's vision blurred
, and she nearly collapsed to the ground. She seemed to see the ancient city belching black smoke and wailing.
The Byzantine soldiers trembled as well, realizing that their terrible fate had arrived.
An even more brutal street battle erupted. Like moths to a flame, the Byzantine citizens desperately fought back against
the invaders, only to be cruelly nailed to their deaths in the streets. Constantine XI donned a magnificent
crimson robe and drew a jewel-encrusted longsword.
"Gentlemen," he proclaimed, "the end is sealed. Thank you for fighting alongside me until this moment! Byzantium will perish,
Constantine XI will die here, but Rome will never fall! The double-headed eagle banner will never fall!"
"The fall of the Byzantine Empire needs a glorious exit! Then, let my blood,
the blood of the last Byzantine emperor, prove the nobility and sanctity of this empire's bloodline!"
His purple figure charged towards the Ottomans, a surging tide of soldiers, several figures following silently
behind. Like drops of water falling into ocean waves, they vanished quickly.
"Your Majesty!" Cries of anguish echoed through the streets of Constantinople. This ancient city, standing for millennia
, was once again ravaged. Constantine smiled bitterly, her figure fading, gradually returning
to . But then, an unexpected event occurred. Constantine was forcibly pulled from the void. She looked
around blankly; several wrinkled old men dressed in strange animal skins jumped and shouted, while a
crystal ball the size of a palm shimmered with an eerie light.
She...couldn't return to Constantinople?
As the white-haired girl was bewildered, a bearded man, surrounded by a group of people, stepped forward. His eyes, filled
with lust, roamed over the white-haired girl's exquisitely sculpted body encased in armor. He
spread his arms, seemingly without a care: "Submit to me! You will become the city princess of the great Ottoman Sultan's
immortal city. Why perish with a doomed kingdom?"
The white-haired girl drew two short swords from her waist, her eyes filled with hatred as she looked at the bearded man with the white turban before her.
"My faith forbids me from submitting to you, you evil heretic!" she cried, charging forward, clearly
intending to reenact the legendary feat of slaying an enemy general. However, the white-turbaned, bearded man let out a hearty laugh and retreated to the back of
the crowd , followed by a large group of generals. The shaman also chanted their strange
incantations.
Due to the fall of Constantinople and the despair of its citizens, the white-haired girl's fighting strength had reached
its lowest point. Although her fighting instincts remained, she was quickly
captured by the superior numbers of the Ottoman generals. They bound Constantine's hands, placed them behind her back, and brought her
before Mehmed II.
Mehmed II laughed heartily. The capture of Constantinople meant he could now wage war and
spread Islamic teachings throughout the heart of Europe; the city princess Constantine was now like a delicious breakfast.
Muhammad II strode up to the white-haired girl, then lifted her pale chin
, forcing her to look up at him. Gazing at the hatred blazing in her defiant, blood-red eyes,
Muhammad II felt a surge of triumph. The terrifying Khan of the East had once said: "The greatest
joy in life is to defeat the enemy, to pursue the enemy, to seize all that is theirs, to see their closest relatives weeping, to ride their horses, and to take their wives and daughters as concubines."
And wasn't he doing just that now?
Gazing at the raging fire of Constantinople, Mehmed II suddenly had a brilliant idea. He
loudly commanded his generals, "Have your soldiers drive the citizens of Constantinople
to the Hagia Sophia! Tell them that the great Ottoman Sultan will invite them to a magnificent opera!"
Mehmed II led Constantine toward the Hagia Sophia, while
Ottoman drove the surviving citizens of the famous city toward the basilica. In less than
the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, the square of the cathedral was soon packed with Byzantines, filled with cries and shouts.
Mehmed II, along with his generals, ascended the high platform, once a solemn and dignified place for coronations, where
both Orthodox patriarchs and Byzantine emperors were crowned and adorned with laurel wreaths. Constantine, the city princess, who had been brought here,
looked at the citizens in the square with despair, unaware of
the terrible ordeal that awaited her.
The Janissaries raised their muskets and fired into the air. Soon, the square fell silent. People looked at
the infidel on the platform; some muttered curses, while others gasped at Constantine, whose hands were bound
. Clearly, they recognized the white-haired girl.
Mehmed II stepped forward and addressed the citizens in the square: "Byzantines!
You be familiar with me. I am Mehmed II, the King of the Great Ottoman Empire, your
future emperor, and the ruler of this city!"
The clamor in the square rose again, clearly indicating dissatisfaction with the infidel's statement. However,
Mehmed II ignored the commotion and continued, "However, someone dares to defy me!
Someone dares to blaspheme the only true God in this world, Allah! Then I will administer
divine , and you are honored to be witnesses!"
Ottoman soldiers in black robes patrolled the square, and the noise gradually subsided. Mehmed
II directly pressed the city princess Constantine against the railing at the edge of the platform, forcefully ripped off her white
robe, and threw her down into the crowd below. Both Constantine on the platform and
the Byzantine knew of Mehmed II's evil intentions. Naturally, some hot-blooded young people stood
up, loudly denouncing Mehmed II's beastly behavior, but they were quickly shot dead in
the square .
Mehmed II grinned smugly, his disgusting mouth
kissing , leaving trails of saliva. Like an enraged she-wolf, Constantine opened her mouth, turning her head
to bite down, but Mehmed II dodged. Bound, Constantine was no
match for Mehmed II and could only endure his humiliation. Those rough hands, accustomed to weapons,
caressed Constantine's shapely body; even through the light armor, Constantine felt utterly disgusted
.
"You bastard! What kind of king are you? How dare you do such a vile thing?" Constantine's face
flushed red she roared in anger.
Meanwhile, Mehmed II's large mouth continued to lick and caress Constantine's delicate face, leaving behind
disgusting , sticky saliva. He mumbled a retort: "What need is there for women to do
anything respectable? Women, just lie on the ground, spread your legs, and wait for men to fuck you!" He laughed
heartily.
Constantine twisted her body, trying to break free from Mehmed II's control. Her brows furrowed, her delicate
face filled with undisguised disgust and contempt: "Disgusting infidels, lowly barbarians, only
the barren grasslands are your place!"
Mehmed II's large hand pressed against Constantine's breasts, and he lewdly laughed: "Is that so?
Then what are you, being played with by barbarians and infidels?" His hand slowly unfastened Constantine
's silver armor, and then he threw her off the platform. Every Byzantine witnessed her city princess being publicly
violated . Constantine's armor gradually thinned until it revealed her
snow-white flesh, draped in noble purple silk.
Constantine trembled with rage. As a noble and mysterious fantasy creature, had she ever suffered such
treatment? She was furious! She growled like a fierce mother wolf protecting her cubs, but
this feeble resistance was futile against Mehmed II. Soon,
Mehmed II threw Constantine's silver armor from the platform, slamming it onto the square with a loud crash. The armor
didn't just hit the square; it hit the hearts of the Byzantines. Their nation's city princess was being wantonly violated
by infidels , and they could only watch from the square. A fierce rage burned within them
.
Mehmed II ripped off Constantine's purple undergarment,
exposing his two snow-white breasts to the air, which bounced lively. Constantine cried out in shame, "No, no!"
"Don't look!"
The sunlight shone on her snow-white breasts, making them almost dazzlingly white.
The young Byzantine men in the square couldn't help but swallow hard. Her breasts were beautifully shaped, like jade bowls inverted on
Constantine's chest. They showed no signs of sagging,
standing proudly like their owner, with two delicate pink nipples on top, looking so cute and alluring.
Even knowing their behavior was blasphemous, the young Byzantine men couldn't resist stealing glances at
their city princess's proud breasts.
Mehmed II smiled gleefully;
the feeling was incredibly satisfying. He quickly stripped off his white robe, pressing it against Constantine's
snow-white flesh. His rough hands reached forward without hesitation, grasping Constantine's
breasts. Her breasts were too large to be grasped in one hand, and a large amount of snow-white flesh seeped out from between his fingers. The cherry-red
nipples were stimulated by his rough palms, and Constantine couldn't help but let out a soft moan. The
strong made her extremely resistant; she wanted to escape, but her hands were bound behind her back, preventing her from doing so.
Mehmed II, only twenty-one years old, had already achieved such great feats, and was naturally in
a state of great pride and self-satisfaction. The moment he conquered Constantinople, he immediately sent men to kill those
ministers . The city princess Constantine before him was undoubtedly the perfect gift to vent his desires. Hearing
the cries of pain from the beauty in his arms, and inhaling her alluring scent with ecstasy, he felt incredibly pleased, especially
seeing the Byzantines in the square who dared not speak out, which further fueled his perverse lust for power and conquest
.
He ripped off Constantine's purple undergarment and threw it down into the crowd. The luxurious
purple silk undergarment fluttered in the wind and landed among the people. The young Byzantine men, panting, clutched the purple
undergarment to their chests, inhaling its lingering fragrance and warmth.
Mehmed II watched with satisfaction as the vigorous young men gathered in the square.
This : destroy the sanctity of these Byzantines, desecrate their faith, corrupt their nobility,
and turn them into beasts burdened with original sin, ultimately forced to beg for forgiveness from God.
He slipped his hand under Constantine's knees and lifted the proud, white-haired
beauty . Constantine screamed in fright, instinctively squeezing her legs together. She was completely naked
, exposed to the Byzantines below. Mehmed II cruelly and slowly
spread , while Constantine resisted with all her might. For the proud woman, this was far too shameful
, to expose her entire body to her people, even her most private parts laid bare before their eyes
.
Her bloodshot eyes widened in despair, her legs trembling as she slowly opened them, until finally, her
vulva was clearly seen by everyone in the square. Constantine let out a shameful, mournful moan; she
wished she could die immediately. Her fair flesh had turned pink with humiliation.
The heavy breathing of the men below the platform could be heard even by Mehmed II on the platform. He
carried Constantine around as if displaying an object, making sure every
Byzantine could see clearly: "Look! Look! This is your Minerva!"
"Look! Look! This is your goddess, your city princess, Constantine! Hahaha,
what difference is there between her and the lowest prostitute in Constantinople?" His rough fingers forcefully plunged into
Constantine 's pink, moist opening, eliciting a cry of pain from the white-haired girl. He raised
his fingers, slick with semen, high: "Your Minerva is leaking fluid under the spotlight! Hahaha!"
As if displaying a medal, he held his hand high, waving it, the small patch of glistening semen on it
reflecting the sunlight.
The Byzantines stared intently at Constantine's vulva, their breathing becoming heavy
. That little opening was incredibly alluring; even Venus couldn't compare. The white-haired girl's genitals
were clean and hairless, exuding purity. Her long, slender legs formed
a mysterious triangle with her vulva. Her mons pubis was slightly raised, appearing tender and juicy. The opening of her vulva was
oval , slightly protruding. The opening was tightly closed, like a perfect loaf of white bread, with only a shallow
slit, as if Aphrodite had gently sliced it open, revealing a sliver of pink flesh, the
exposed labia tightly enveloping the opening. Many Byzantines below the stage had already
become fully erect. However, remembering that this was their protector, the goddess of war, many with a conscience felt a pang of guilt.
Constantine was too ashamed to speak; her mind seemed to have stopped working. This desperate
scene was clearly unbearable for a young girl, and she was on the verge of collapse. But how could Mehmed II
let her off so easily?
With a wave of his hand, a wrinkled wizard handed him a bottle of mysterious potion. He grabbed
Constantine 's jaw and forced the potion into her mouth. Constantine
coughed, her breasts trembling with her movements. Mehmed II's rough hands slid over
Constantine taut body. Years of warfare had shaped her
unlike any other woman; beneath her beautiful flesh lay astonishing muscles. This unique experience
was unlike any other woman Mehmed II had ever been with. Her wildness and fierce spirit
were .
Constantine groaned in pain. The strange liquid, once swallowed, immediately
aroused . A warm sensation spread through her lower body, a warm flow quickly gathering
in her bladder. Constantine instinctively clenched her long, shapely legs, their beautiful
curves intertwined in an alluring pose, but the urge to urinate persisted, relentlessly stimulating and eroding her
fragile nerves. However, to urinate in front of so many Byzantines was worse than death. But this
was precisely what Muhammad wanted to achieve.
Muhammad spread Constantine's legs, revealing her alluring vulva, where glistening droplets of
moisture already clung. Muhammad's large hand pressed against Constantine's lower abdomen, then
slowly moved towards her genitals, the rough, abrasive texture sending
shivers down Constantine's spine. His rough fingers finally rested at the entrance of her vulva, two fingers parting the opening, the rough
pads rubbing against her pink clitoris.
Constantine couldn't help but let out a seductive moan. The intense stimulation overwhelmed her, her lower body
trembling uncontrollably. The sphincter controlling her urethra failed her, and her
lower body arched forward, her waist forming a beautiful curve.
A soft moan, completely out of character, escaped her lips. A stream of clear urine spurted from her urethra and fell to the ground.
The sound of urine dripping onto the ground was clearly audible in the square, and every Byzantine man's breathing quickened
.
As for Constantine? She was completely lost in a daze. This act of urinating in public
had utterly shattered the will of this proud female warrior. She felt as if she had been reduced to a lowly bitch
. Her voice choked, and she did something completely inconsistent with her proud image. Crystalline tears
slid down her cheeks, then drifted in the wind, reflecting the sunlight like pearls
, before finally falling to the ground, splashing up a little dust.
A Byzantine man's eyes blazed with fury. He leaped to his feet, shouting, "Enough! You
beasts, you vile heretics! Constantinople is not a city where women can be wantonly violated
! Romans! Rise up! Resist these robbers!" But he was met only with
the sharp spears of the Ottoman soldiers. More Byzantine men rose, shouting, "You will
return like lightning!" and fell into pools of blood.
The sharp spears were the best calming agent; soon no man dared to rise in resistance.
Mehmed II, like a proud god, smugly enjoyed his offerings. His brown skin
contrasted sharply with Constantine's snow-white skin, and the petite Constantine was completely embraced
in his arms. The thick, dark penis pressed against the entrance of Constantine's vagina. He deliberately pushed it
in , arousing the Byzantines in the square and Constantine himself. He made them watch
helplessly as their city's Minerva was violated, the pleasure of the powerful deciding life and death fueling his insatiable lust
.
The Byzantines dared not speak out, their eyes turning bloodshot as they stared intently
at the thick, dark penis. The pink vagina was slowly parted by the penis, which then slowly and firmly penetrated.
Even the strong and warlike Constantine could only whimper, "No, no, you can't
go ..."
Naked and being watched by so many people was like a long, agonizing
torture for Constantine. Her body writhed, only further fueling Muhammad's lust. Muhammad closed his eyes,
quietly savoring the shyness, pleas, and forced submission of the female warrior in his arms. Even the greatest pleasure for a human emperor
couldn't be more than this, could it?
His rough hand pressed down on Constantine's taut waist, forcefully pushing her down. His enormous glans
slammed against a thin hymen. He knew, of course, that the city princess before him was still a virgin.
He laughed heartily, while Constantine's face turned pale. "No, no..."
she groaned. Muhammad's thick penis slammed in, tearing through the thin hymen,
as if showing off his prowess, displaying his blood-stained, monstrous member to the Byzantines.
The Byzantines either trembled, bowing their heads, or stared intently at Constantine's genitals, which were constantly flowing with
crimson virgin blood. Many of their penises also hardened from the stimulation. Constantine burst into
tears . This was her first time. As a pure and innocent fantasy being, how could she have endured such
cruel humiliation?
Her lower body was first forcibly stretched open, and a throbbing pain
shot into her fragile genitals, forcibly breaking through her hymen, which was full of sensitive capillaries. The penis, like
a rough, rusty iron sword, forcefully rubbed against the tender flesh of her honeyed orifice. The pain caused her body
to tremble uncontrollably. She clenched her teeth to prevent herself from crying out in pain.
Muhammad, on the other hand, began to enjoy the beautiful flesh before him with pleasure. His
lust shamelessly defiled their city princess in front of a group of Byzantines, and then, seeing their
angry but silent expressions, Muhammad laughed again. The thick penis plunged into Constantine's
honeyed orifice, which was extremely tight; the soft flesh and folds of the vagina tightly enveloped his penis, hindering
its advance. The small opening was warm and moist, and he felt his penis sinking into the mud.
The folds inside the honeyed opening seemed to extend tentacles, tightly enveloping Muhammad's penis, causing him to
groan in pleasure. The two labia, forcibly parted, turned from pink to transparent, and even the tiny
blood vessels were clearly visible in the sunlight. His penis forcefully carved a
passage , the large glans pushing aside the sticky clump of soft flesh, causing Constantine to cry out in pain.
The penis felt like a blunt sword, constantly scraping against the sensitive vaginal flesh inside Constantine's honeyed opening,
a burning . The female warrior, who had never shed a tear on the battlefield, cried out at this moment. The unbearable
pain destroyed her strong will, and two lines of clear tears dripped from her blood-red pupils. Muhammad
then took the opportunity to occupy Constantine's pink lips with his disgustingly large mouth.
Constantine had to endure the pain in his lower body while simultaneously resisting
the assault . Muhammad's rough hands were equally busy, kneading Constantine's
snow-white breasts forcefully, shaping them into various forms in his palms. His fingers pinched and squeezed the rosy nipples
, stimulating Constantine to open his cherry-like mouth. Under this multi-pronged attack,
Constantine's resistance gradually weakened, and Muhammad's rough tongue slid over the delicate, rose-petal-like pink...
His lips and tongue licked her pearly white teeth, prying them open, and his rough tongue probed inside.
Constantine's once spirited face was now flushed with two layers of red, making her look even more alluring.
The rough tongue invaded her small mouth, stretching her originally delicate oval face, its tongue constantly rubbing
against the soft flesh on both sides of her cheeks, finally entwining with Constantine's soft tongue. The two tongues intertwined, and a look of disgust appeared on
Constantine 's face. Her fragrant tongue withdrew, but Muhammad quickly caught up and
grabbed it.
Constantine felt extremely disgusted by that tongue; its sticky, slippery touch made her furrow her heroic
brows. However, she could not escape that disgusting tongue and could only silently endure Muhammad's demands.
The rough tongue scraped against the inside of her mouth and licked the soft flesh of her throat. The coarse tongue reminded Constantine of
the venomous snakes he had encountered in the temple; he had a natural aversion to these legless reptiles.
Intense stimulation surged through his nipples and genitals, but Constantine endured it, focusing his mind,
and bit down hard. The excruciating pain in his tongue
offended Muhammad, the high and mighty ruler. He forcefully pinched Constantine's jaw, pulling his tongue back, and crimson blood
flowed from Constantine's small mouth. She stared defiantly at Muhammad, her eyes filled with contempt, as if
Muhammad were the loser before her.
For some reason, Muhammad thought of the Khan of the eastern steppes, who
, after slaughtering all the men of the ancient Xia Kingdom, was enjoying the princess's virginity when she bit off his genitals,
causing him to bleed to death in humiliation on his bed. The fact that this Khan, who took pleasure in slaughtering others' families and seizing their
wives and daughters exited in such a farcical manner was nothing short of a colossal irony.
But he wasn't some steppe barbarian! Wiping the blood from his mouth, he treated the resolute city princess
before him . He pressed her against the railing of the high platform, his penis forcefully
slamming into Constantine's clitoris. In this sacred and solemn place where the Byzantine emperor and the Orthodox patriarch had ascended the throne
, he brutally violated the Byzantine city princess, treating royal dignity and the sanctity of the Orthodox Church like
toilet paper , trampling them underfoot.
His lower body slammed against Constantine's buttocks, producing loud slapping sounds. The penis rubbed against
Constantine 's honeypot, slamming hard against her clitoris again and again. Even with the hatred for
the steppe barbarians behind her, her body's instincts couldn't be faked. Her lower body was forcibly filled, her clitoris pounded hard
, sending waves of soft, pleasurable sensations through her. Constantine's body gradually went limp.
Muhammad's large hand slapped Constantine's smooth, round buttocks, leaving
his . Her juices flowed from her vagina. Muhammad proudly
shouted to the Byzantines below, "Look! This is your city princess! She's no
more ! I only thrust a few times, and she's already so wet! Is this your goddess of war?"
His shouts were accompanied by the sounds of thrusting.
Constantine retorted defiantly, "Oh, Ottoman barbarian, do you only win
with ?"
"I am in Constantinople, not you, I am in Edirne! You
wag your tail at me like a prostitute, is this the Byzantine goddess of war?" Muhammad said,
thrusting his thick penis into Constantine's clitoris, causing her beautiful, long legs to go weak and she collapsed
onto him.
Constantine closed her eyes in despair, enduring Muhammad's humiliation. Muhammad's large
hands toyed with Constantine's nipples, now fully erect, like a pair of striking agates
. His rough hands, accustomed to swords and spears, pinched and kneaded them forcefully, eliciting a low
cry of pain . The enormous glans slammed into Constantine's clitoris once more, and Muhammad let out a groan of pleasure.
His penis throbbed, pouring all his semen into Constantine's clitoris. The scalding, white
semen splattered onto Constantine's clitoris like a flood, making her momentarily dazed, her body
going limp as she collapsed onto Muhammad's body.
Her clitoris, too, succumbed, and a stream of clear, hot vaginal fluid gushed forth, drenching
Muhammad 's penis. Muhammad let out a comfortable groan, rubbing Constantine's tender vulva
a few times as if it were a penis sheath. Then, he embraced Constantine's legs, causing her body to lean over the platform,
and pulled his penis out of her vulva. Instantly, a large amount of vaginal fluid mixed with Muhammad's semen
flowed from Constantine's honeypot, cascading from the high platform onto the ground of the square. The
splashing mixture of vaginal fluids landed on the ground, echoing in the hearts of every Byzantine. Constantine was so
ashamed that she wanted to disappear; she could only close her eyes and bury herself in the sand like an ostrich.
Muhammad announced to his generals behind him, "This whore is now your reward
! Show the Byzantines what Ottoman men are all about! Those
useless little Byzantines' dicks can't satisfy their city princess's tender cunt! Hahaha, since that's the case, we steppe men
will do it for them!"
A group of bearded men with white turbans laughed lewdly and pounced on Constantine,
surrounding her. To them, women were merely possessions, and they didn't cherish them much. Their methods
were brutal, quickly leaving various bright red finger marks on Constantine's snow-white body, causing her
to cry out in pain. Countless rough hands roamed over Constantine's snow-white body. Her
small hands, lotus feet, tender cunt—everywhere that could accommodate a penis was filled with it. The Byzantines in the square
were filled with indignation at seeing their nation's princess reduced to a prostitute ridden by thousands.
Yet, some men's lustful gazes lingered on Constantine's defiled flesh.
Two bearded men sandwiched Constantine between them, like a sandwich filling. Constantine was
now completely powerless to resist, forced to endure the humiliation of the two men. Her
body lay limply against the chest of the man before her, eliciting laughter from him, who considered the beauty in his arms...
The woman was throwing herself into his arms. Rough hands roamed over Constantine's body; her delicate
hands, which had gripped her sword, were now forced to grasp the man's penis. Constantine let out a soft moan,
then her small mouth was captured by the bearded man's large mouth, which sucked and licked forcefully.
Behind her, the bearded man used his rough fingers to directly touch Constantine's anus,
forcefully pushing in and probing her pink labia. As a life form of fantasy, Constantine
's body was naturally flawless, even her anus radiating a healthy pink.
Fear crossed Constantine's face. As a devout believer, she naturally disapproved of this filthy sexual
practice , but the bearded man behind her clearly wouldn't let her go.
Her body twisted in resistance, but the bearded men interpreted this as fawning, and instead,
they groped even more diligently. Rough fingers forcefully shoved into her anus from behind, the foreign sensation causing
Constantine to arch her neck and let out a mournful groan. Her delicate mouth was now
forcibly possessed by the bearded man before her, his disgusting tongue prying open her pearly teeth and plunging into her mouth. Her
rear was being wantonly played with by the bearded man, the humiliation indescribable. Caught in the middle,
Constantine had no chance to resist. Her two small hands were also taken by the two bearded men and pressed
onto their penises. Those small hands were completely different from the smooth, silky hands of the noble ladies
or ; they had a distinctly rough texture. It was
the calluses on the palms of hands unique to years of wielding swords and spears. However, this novel experience was undoubtedly a novel experience for the bearded men
. They enveloped those small hands in their own palms, then grasped their penises and began to stroke them up and down hard
.
The softness of her palms and the rough texture of calluses intensely stimulated the sensitive penis, giving
them an exquisite experience. Constantine, however, felt utterly disgusted. The penis was hot and enormous,
almost impossible for her to grasp. How could her small hands, accustomed to wielding swords and spears, adapt to the feeling of holding a man's penis
? She let out painful whimpers, powerless to change the situation, forced to endure the man's defilement,
serving his penis with her small hands.
The bearded man behind her contentedly inserted his fingers into Constantine's anus,
stimulating her sensitive nerves with his rough fingers. A throbbing pain shot through her rear, and the shame made
Constantine 's face flush red. Her extremely private and shameful area was being played with by the man, and painful groans
escaped from her small mouth. The rough finger probed Constantine's burning hot sphincter. Because the intestinal flesh
was deep inside, its temperature was much higher than the surface temperature. The bearded man felt as if his finger
was melting inside that daisy.
The sphincter was already tight, gripping the bearded man's finger firmly, let alone Constantine, a seasoned
warrior. Beneath the beautiful flesh of this delicate body lay astonishing explosive power. The muscles of her buttocks were clenched, and
the bearded man could clearly feel the firm flesh. His rough hand caressed the upturned buttocks, and he
patted them with satisfaction, as if treating a satisfied ewe.
His already raging penis was rock hard, the large glans aimed at Constantine's
daisy , ready to push inward. However, his colleague was clearly one step ahead.
The first poked at Constantine's lower abdomen, feeling the tight muscles hidden there,
then moved down, pressing against Constantine's smooth mons pubis, feeling the tenderness of the flesh. Finally, the
thick penis aimed at the slightly parted opening of the vagina. The thought of sharing a woman with his sultan
filled him with a sense of satisfaction, causing his penis to swell again.
"I've finally had my way with the sultan's woman, hehehe." With this wicked thought, the bearded man
's thick penis, without lubrication, forcefully thrust into Constantine's tender vagina, eliciting
cries of pain from the latter. It felt as if a rough wooden stick had been thrust into her tender vagina, the delicate vaginal flesh seemingly about to
bleed. Constantine's body trembled. Even with her strong will, a
warrior- , she couldn't resist this innate weakness of women, and she cried out in pain.
The penis, like a rough iron rod, forcefully rammed into her tender vagina, scraping against the delicate vaginal flesh and
stimulating her sensitive nerves.
He completely disregarded the feelings of the beauty in his arms, brutally pounding into her vagina. The penis was pulled out,
then slammed hard against her clitoris, causing Constantine to cry out in pain. The penis
slammed recklessly against Constantine's clitoris, the penis transforming into a jade pestle that pounded down, as if
trying to grind her clitoris into medicine. Constantine's once blood-red pupils were now brimming with
pain , tears welling in her eyes. Her body trembled, and she leaned weakly against the bearded man behind her.
But how could the bearded man so easily let her go? His penis pressed against the
entrance , then forcefully pushed in. Even after being stretched by fingers, her anus remained tight, and the large,
purplish-red glans slowly squeezed into Constantine's sphincter. Constantine's beautiful
blood-red pupils widened, her mouth opened, wanting to scream, but her mouth was already
blocked by the bearded man in front of her.
A foreign sensation came from her rear; the penis, disregarding Constantine's ability to withstand it, forcefully shoved itself
inside. The thick penis forcefully forced open her sphincter, separating the soft flesh inside her anus. Bright red blood slowly dripped from her
vulva . The delicate flesh of her anus was torn by the thick penis, flowing out crimson blood.
Constantine involuntarily clenched her legs, her buttock muscles contracting, but this only intensified her pain
.
The bearded man behind her breathed comfortably. Her vulva, tight and warm, gripped
his penis, and the bearded man was almost speechless with pleasure. The penis forcefully separated Constantine's buttocks
sphincter , pounding into Constantine's burning intestinal flesh. Constantine couldn't help but let out a muffled groan.
Shame, shame, utter shame!
How could the proud city princess, the brave Byzantine goddess of war, endure such humiliation? To be subjected to a heretic!
His penis forcefully shoved into her daisy. Her long, silvery-white hair fluttered in the wind, making her look like a goddess,
but her current state only reminded one of Persephone, who had been forcibly abducted by Hades.
Her daisy was warm and burning hot, and the bearded man behind her was breathing heavily with pleasure. Unlike her vagina
, her anus was much more unobstructed, and his penis could penetrate directly to the deepest part of
Constantine . His penis forced its way through the warm, writhing intestinal flesh, and the glans
reached the very depths of Constantine's rectum, pressing firmly against the intestinal flesh. His astonishingly long penis
went all the way in, his lower body pressed tightly against Constantine's upturned buttocks.
The feeling of being penetrated caused Constantine's face to contort in agony. Her
mouth , her face flushed a lustful pink. The penis was pressed against the bottom of her rectum, making her feel as if a
sharp sword had pierced through her completely, as if the thick penis had stabbed into her stomach
. She writhed in agony.
The bearded man in front of Constantine was also thrusting his penis rapidly, the two thick penises
ravaging Constantine's vagina and anus through a thin membrane. The double pleasure overwhelmed Constantine
, completely destroying her will. At this moment, she was no
different , and she cried out in wanton pleasure. Even sandwiched between the two bearded men, her body was still
lifted up by their penises, twisting up and down to accommodate the two penises thrusting in and out of her vagina and anus
.
Her pupils rolled back, revealing a large amount of white in her eyes, her pink tongue protruding, and her body
swayed wildly with each thrust of the penis, a classic image of someone being fucked to the point of absurdity. The Ottoman generals on the platform
laughed , while the Byzantine commoners below buried their heads in humiliation. However, the noble Lady's
moans still reached their ears.
Two penises ravaged Constantine's two orifices, constantly stimulating her sensitive
nerves . The two penises repeatedly sent Constantine to orgasm, eliciting cries of surprise. As if
walking on clouds, Constantine felt lightheaded, her soul almost leaving her
body. Tears of joy streamed down her face as she let out ecstatic moans.
The two Ottoman generals exchanged a smile, then resumed their synchronized thrusting. The penis pounded repeatedly into
Constantine's core and rectum, causing him to scream as his body trembled uncontrollably. A torrent of
fluid gushed from his genitals, drenching the bearded man's penis before him. Both men's
penises pressed firmly against the deepest parts of Constantine's vagina and anus, the hot, white semen
shooting in and filling them completely. Constantine screamed again
, his body trembling violently before collapsing onto the bearded man like a rag doll.
The bearded man withdrew his penis, a large amount of semen
leaking , the two openings slightly parted, continuously oozing a large amount of white, cloudy fluid.
Constantine gasped for breath, his eyes glazed as he stared at the sky. The other bearded men also reached their climax, their
penises throbbing, glans aimed at Constantine's delicate body, copious amounts of white semen gushing out, drenching
Constantine's face and snow-white skin.
It was like snowflakes falling on Constantine, who couldn't open her eyes from the spray of semen.
The once high and mighty female warrior had now been reduced to a semen-soaked bitch, and the Ottomans laughed heartily,
leaving Constantine lying on the ground, covered in semen.

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[The lofty and powerful female warrior Constantine was gang-raped by Ottoman barbarians!] [Author: Tongchi Jiaozhu]

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