"I'm a girl who loves to laugh," Simone de Schnois replied.
"Is that all you love to do?" Alex taunted the coed, his growing, insistently throbbing bulge pushing against her abdomen.
She pressed against the bulge, reveling in the feeling of its pressure on her pubic ridge.
"You've got to leave soon, Simone. They're depending on you in Poland." Alex and Simone stood at the door to her dormitory room.
She only arched her back by way of answer. She reflected that she really was not sure why she was going to Stettin on the Polish border, or even why she had gotten involved in the anti-Nazi movement in the first place. Simone came from a proper family-a titled family in fact. She came to Phillips University in Marburg solely to study; not to find a husband or a political cause to espouse. Although she was distressed by the Nazis and their philosophy, neither she nor her family had suffered unduly. They were not Jews, but Swiss, so the Reich compensated her father for the land confiscated for those apartment buildings.
Now, her passions soaring, Simone cared little about the tiny locker key which Alex had just handed her. She arched her back still more, swiveling her open hips hard onto the thorn that stood out from his trousers.
After weeks of celibate study, Simone could swear that she smelled her own sex fluid before she felt it, warm and sticky, inside her lavender panties.
The lavender was a close match to the raw silk dress she had put on for the occasion. She knew that when the thin material of the dress stretched over the curve of her hip, the outline of the panties would show, Now, Simone knew, the panties would have to be washed. The wetness was spreading and bringing excitement. The boiling heat baked upward over her belly and down her trembling thighs to the upper edge of her nylons. It steamed around her asscheeks into her asscrack.
His lips were against her ear, whispering and brushing against the sensitive flesh. "Open yourself up to me and let me fuck you. I want you I want you so much..."
Alex's fingers brushed away the material of her silk dress, pushing back the bra cup to reveal the jutting cones of her young breasts. He swiftly ran his hand over their forms, brushing almost incidentally over the pink nipples. He placed his hand in the space between the jutting cones, and inched it slowly toward her navel. Alex looked down at her nakedness, then back to her face. "You have lovely breasts, Simone. They are every bit as pretty as the rest of you."
She wordlessly communicated her assent to his desires, and his lips traced up in careful delicate patterns from the swelling rise of one breast to her neck. He took her wrist in his own hand and brought it to his swollen cock.
Soon her free hand was rubbing the spiky little nipples of her breasts excitedly in rhythm with her hand on his massive cock.
He reached down between her legs and started rubbing furiously in the silken dampness of her clothing. Her hot little pussy was gyrating as if by itself beneath his touch. Her ass jerked servilely under his thrusts of stiff fingers as he brushed up the hem of her dress, raising it over the length of her straining thighs. Simone slumped against the door-jamb as Alex lifted the dress over the top of her thighs. He wedged his legs between hers, forcing her legs apart. Although her eyes were clamped tightly shut, Simone knew with certainty that the entire front of his trousers was wet with her sex juices. Her left hand moved on his cock and she could feel the entire length of his cartilaginous thickness. Simone grasped it and rubbed, massaging back and forth slowly. She had to struggle to force back the tide of her own orgasm as she manipulated the meaty cock.
Rhythmically, Alex ground his hips, aiming the massive cock at her notch, while at the same time he started pulling her dress over her buttocks and bunching it around her slender waist.
"Take me," Simone pleaded, unable to hold back her climax.
As Alex pulled down her panties and garter belt, she started to come. As the silk whispered to the floor, leaving a gummy trail of wetness down the insides of her thighs and legs to her ankles, her cunt began to spasm "OOooohhh. I'm cumming, I'm cummmiiing," Simone cried as the retching convulsion flattened belly and buttocks. Simone forced her legs as wide apart as she could, hungrily begging for cock.
But it was too late. When she felt the demanding firmness against her slit, her orgasm had peaked and begun to subside, and she was gasping for breath.
"That's all right," Alex said soothingly to the half-nude girl. "I understand. I wanted you to come that way and empty all your unhappiness out." While he spoke, Alex easily slid his big cock up inside her open, gaping sexhole. Simone's pussylips tightened reflexively around the root of his shaft and she started to shudder with the beginning of another orgasm.
Leaning back and balancing her shoulders against the door, Simone raised her legs and surrounded his hips. This tipped her cunt backward and made Alex drive in deeper with each stroke. She felt one of his strong hands reach under her asscheek and pull it to the side, spreading her cuntlips. His other hand reached behind her back and lifted her up. Clutching her to him, Alex continued fucking upward into her body. Her weight made Simone settle down on his prick, forcing it up higher in her than anyone had ever been before.
She ground her hips down on him, her mini-prick rubbing some rough part of his slacks, until she began to get aroused once more. Simone grasped his neck tightly with her hands until she could see her knuckles turning white under the pressure. She jerked her ass around and around, passing her cuntsleeve over every inch of his invading cock. She bore down on it, pushing the rubbery end of her womb hard on his pulsing cockhead. The world was starting to explode in a series of mindless sparks, showering her body from above, below, and every side. In the most intense moment of it, a hand slid deftly into her asscrack and forced a finger up into her tiny hole.
The feeling of his finger in her rectum intensified and lengthened her orgasm, until, limp and sweaty with her second climax. Simone collapsed in his arms. The orgasm was gentle and left her with a feeling of completeness and comfort.
"You're some lover, Alex," she giggled. "Some lover."
By way of answer Alex raised her off his cock with his arms. When the cock popped out of her, streams of combined love juices spread hotly over her ripe asscheeks.
He carried her, still clutching her to him, to the bed. There he placed Simone gently and carefully. He unbuttoned her dress and removed it where she lay. She watched him stare at her tits in their bra shells for a long time before adoringly unclasping the bra and releasing them. He brushed his lips tenderly over the little titbuds that lay flat on the spreading areola. His lips caressed them, bit them erect, and then nuzzled down under the soft mound and whisked along the breadth of her flat abdomen. He wiped over her whole body with his tongue, giving her a complete and leisurely tongue bath.
When he was finished, he undressed and lay alongside her.
Alex slid down the length of her body with his tongue, and licked the insides of her knees. His wet tongue ran up along the inside of her leg, and then down again on the outside. Simone moaned and spread her legs apart on the cool sheets. Again Alex slid his tongue up and down, up and down her soft sensitive inner thighs.
Soon Simone was breathing heavily and begging, "Suck me. Oh, please, suck me, Alex."
He took her legs below the knees and folded them back, spreading them. He positioned Simone's heels on his shoulders and brought his hands down to the front of her quivering thighs. Using them as a lever he pulled her luscious target closer and closer to his mouth. Blowing softly on her blonde-fringed membranes, he caused Simone's clitoris to throb violently. When she felt the tip of his tongue on her aching clit, her legs went limp.
The blue-eyed blonde moaned with pleasure as his tongue rimmed her humid bush. She closed her thighs firmly around his head and pushed as much of her delicious cunt as she could against his face. She rocked him toward herself in spasmodic jerks, back and forth, thrashing and jolting Then Simone bent forward and grasped the hair of Alex's head to force him still deeper into her cunt.
Suddenly Alex bit down on her clitoris, and she humped in one massive tremor. "Fuck me. Fuck me again... I need you. Oh, I need you," she gurgled.
Simone watched him pull away from her, wiping the sticky slime from his face and chin onto the back of his hand. She saw his organ twitching in peristaltic spasms, and knew that he was about to cum too. This was going to be good. This one was going to be very good, she was certain.
He moved up over her and drove his cock hard into her open gaping body. "I'm going to fuck you, my little bitch. I'm going to make you cum and cum and cum. I'm going to fuck you until you melt." He gasped haltingly as his voice competed with lungfuls of air. As he talked he forced his massive cock high up into her, screwing and screwing all the way in.
When his cock had filled Simone to capacity, and she felt his balls pressed tightly between her asscheeks, Alex started hunching his torso rhythmically.
She gripped him tight with her cunt muscles and started milking him with spastic convulsions which sluiced up and down from the root of his prick to the neck of the glans. Simone clamped her teeth on his shoulder and bit down as he drove deeper and deeper yet.
Simone felt his testicles contract between her asscheeks as they pumped their load. Jism poured into the back of her cunt in a steady pulsating stream that seemed to have no end. The hot rush of sperm in her expanding pussy drove her over the brink and she screamed, "I-I'm cumming... again!"
Simone's muscles squeezed the jism back out the sides of her cuntbarrel, squishing it between her asscheeks and the insides of her glistening white thighs. "Oh, god," she muttered as she humped her exhausted body on his stiff, spurting cock. As Simone tightened her cunt muscles around the root of Alex's cock, he began to come again inside of her. She could feel his hot jet spurt thickly into her, and each eruption of his impaling rod made her shudder with ecstasy.
Simone could feel the lean muscles in his body tighten as he continued to climax, and she could feel independent movements deep within her wonderfully aroused abdomen. She thrashed about uncontrollably, impaled on his hardness, and suddenly realized that she was getting ready to come again. More powerfully than the last time, Simone wrenched her bead from side to side, her body tightening into an unbelievably hard mass as she got ready to go over again. She felt his hands on her ass as he gripped her and she frantically jammed down into his loins, rubbing and writhing as she moaned, "Good, good, good, good."
Simone rammed aggressively down as the cock rammed up into her straining, hungry opening. They smashed into each other faster and faster until she thought she would be unable to breathe.
Then Simone felt Alex stiffen as he began to come again, the third time. Or was it the fourth? She groveled against him for a long, blinding, exhilarating moment. Her fingernails were dug into the skin of his back and shoulder. When it was over, she released her grip and sighed. She felt warm. She felt good.
But Alex was speaking. "Now," he was reminding her of something she did not want to think about, "you must go to the train station. Hurry and dress. I will drive."
"I wish I didn't have to go right now," Simone complained.
"I'll be waiting hard for your return."
"I certainly hope so," Simone laughed. Although no girls were naive in wartime, Simone knew, she had never thought that die Universitat would be part of the national picture of hectic lovemaking. Because boys were continually being sent to the front, fierce competition existed between the coeds for those boys who, for the moment, were in school. There were some rumors that coeds even slept with the dons, and some were said to sleep with other girls.
Competition for boys was so keen that Simone had at first welcomed the opportunity to join the Belgian Students Union, an underground group.
It had been in this way that she met Alex.
But Simone soon learned that the Belgian Students Union was more committed to overthrowing the Nazis than to socializing, and she was paying the price for her belated knowledge now.
An hour later when Simone and Alex arrived at the Marburg railroad station, Alex reminded her about the key he had given her. "And when you get to Stettin you are to put the contraband in a locker there and place the key under the wastebasket in the ladles' room."
Simone nodded casually. She was always tranquil after sex.
"Hurry now, you must buy your ticket, Alex urged.
Even in the midst of war, Simone reflected, the trains ran on schedule and students were permitted to travel freely. Most students therefore traveled a lot; some nearly every weekend. So Simone was not surprised, as she stepped from Alex's car, to be hailed by another boyfriend, Kurt.
She was less than happy to see him just now, for he was a Blackshirt Standartenfuhrer, and she knew he would insist on seeing her to her train. A growing terror was sparked by his presence, although he seemed friendly enough on the surface.
Kurt tagged along, chattering, while she bought her ticket, then he remarked. "Going quite a ways off."
"I have a cousin..."
"I'll just bet. You don't seem very happy to see me, I must say. I wonder what sort of cousin you have in Stettin," he leered. "Neither are you carrying much luggage," he added.
"I really must hurry; the train is due to leave," she brushed him off abruptly. How would she justify her getting something from a locker, she wondered? He would be talking and questioning her every action. Then she had an inspiration. Simone handed Kurt the locker key Alex had given her and told Kurt to bring her things to her while she went ahead and found a seat on the train. Once aboard, he would be reluctant to question her in front of other passengers, and if something went wrong, it would be Kurt, not Simone, who would he holding the contraband.
She had already gotten a seat in a crowded compartment, when Kurt ran up with a large suitcase, sobbing and begging her to return to him and their child.
Simone tried to hide her irritation at Kurt's practical joke, and then to expose it by saying. "But we aren't even married." Simone realized belatedly that her remark was not quite fitting, and Simone, who had played a good many jokes on others, simply started laughing. The laughter must have looked terrible to the others in the compartment, for none of them spoke to her all the way from Marburg through Berlin.
It was night when the train stopped in a tunnel near the border. There was a rumor that the Russians had blown up the tracks near Prenzlau. No one could sleep in the stuffy compartment, so most of the passengers went out under the stars and searched for something smooth to lie upon. Someone groped against her in the moonless night. There was an instant of touching, of probing, and then a short apology coupled with an observation that they were likely to be there through the long night. "I have a blanket," the man offered.
Wordlessly the two of them spread the blanket on what seemed like a stone outcropping.
"It's likely to be cold tonight," he suggested "Can I move a little closer!"
"Can I?" Simone ventured.
"Do you want... some... loving tonight?" he requested with German formality.
She answered by placing her lips over his in the dark. Then his tongue was in her mouth and he was licking her lips and teeth. He held one enormous tit in his palm and squeezed it, pinching at the erect nipple through the silk dress she wore. His tongue moved toward her ear, like a snake inching over the terrain. Then it probed at the hollow until Simone shuddered. She trembled and clutched the stranger against her warm body, pressing her huge tit tightly onto the flat of his hand.
He rolled her onto her back and climbed on top, kissing her mouth wetly, hungrily. He locked his fingers around the soft mound of her orb. She could feel the heat and stiffening of his cock against her mons, and her thighs opened automatically.
He began to thrust up and down, rubbing his meat against, the edge of her cunt through the sensual texture of their clothes. Simone humped back, grinding her cunt as she lifted her ass high.
"Fuck me, fuck me... I want you to... fuck me. I want to feel your manhood inside," she pleaded as her tongue slithered against the clean-shaven face.
He pushed his hand down between their bodies and Simone could feel the heat baking up from her own thighs. He put his palm over the rise of her pubic region; found her silken panties stuck down to her skin with an incredible wetness. As he did this he began to writhe with passion. Simone twisted from side to side and humped her pussy savagely against the stranger's fingers. Through the moisture, and the layer of silk, he probed her cunt, now opening and closing in erotic spasm. She felt fingers gather up her skirt while she listened to the slick whisper of the material as it rode up to her hips.
The exploring hand was down between her thighs again, in her notch. Simone locked her thighs around the hand, the wet crotch of her panties sticking to her gummy skin beneath them. Fingers pushed aside the crotchpiece of her panties and uncovered her cunt. Simone moaned softly and spread her hose-encased thighs wide. "Hurry, hurry," she begged, recalling how quickly she came earlier that day with Alex. "Take them off before I cum in them," she urged as the stranger fumbled with her panties.
Fingers finally unhooked nylons from garter straps, then moved to the waistband of her panties. She felt the cool sensual touch of her naked skin on his as he began to squirm as if he was fucking her already. Her panties were coming down. "Don't bother with the nylons... hurry, I'm losing control," she whispered in the dark. Simone could feel her pussy lips moving as if with a mind of their own. Opening and closing, they spasmed at her greedy hole.
Simone realized suddenly that it was too late: She was coming. She was coming simply from having her panties pulled down.
The stranger's palm ran over the huge hairy rug of her cunt. Fingers jabbed down between her soaking lips, pushing them apart until they could penetrate, sensually, the boiling hot interior. Simone was tight and wet and she could feel the wall of her cunt convulsing in spasms of orgasmic pleasure. While he stabbed his fingers inside of her, ramming and screwing up her quivering box, Simone started to hump down and twist her hips in that slow, shallow rotation of climax. Simone's legs strained against the panties where they rested around her knees. As he pulled them the rest of the way down and off, he licked across the span of her half-nude body, kissing her deep-set navel and the rising swell of her creamy smooth belly. Down and down that tongue went, down to her slit, lapping the musky ooze from her hot crack.
Simone began to grunt, and locked his face with her hands. He rammed his tongue up all the way inside her, teasing the slippery tightness of her vagina as it convulsed around the invading tongue. She raised her legs then, pulling them all the way back under the blanket so that he could lick the passageway of her cunt with the entire length of tongue.
But he was already kneeling upright, unzipping his pants and releasing his own throbbing cock. Simone reached for his sex stick and her fingers tightened greedily around its shaft. He straightened up, and knelt between her widely parted legs. The head of his cock brushed against her cunt, and she pushed down excitedly. "Fuck me," she pleaded. "Fuck me before I cum again," she begged quietly when she felt the oily hot spasms of her tunnel massaging the tip of the throbbing cock.
He plunged in deeply with one stroke, burying his cock hurriedly just as far as possible into her cunt. She felt his testicles press aggressively against the wet, sticky straining skin of her ass. Her cunt was leaking with molten wet heat while he drilled and screwed her unmercifully.
Simone lifted her ass high into the air, wrapping her thighs around the stranger's waist and locking her ankles behind his ass. He was able to fuck straight down into her gaping cunt this way.
She collapsed the entire hot wet sleeve of her vagina against every centimeter of the penetrating hardness. She could feel the elastic thinness of her delicately stretching membranes. She could feel the rugged tightening of her sphincters around the mouth of her cunt as he stroked outward; the rubbery muscles resisting withdrawal. There seemed no end to her copious lubrication as it gushed from her as from a compressed sponge, and spread its moist heat across her belly.
Then Simone went over the edge of her orgasm, cunt muscles gripping like a fist as he plunged into her open young body. She could feel her muscles quivering as the familiar burning wetness spread across the tip of her womb.
He reached behind her knees and doubled her legs over until her pussy was aimed perpendicular to the ground. As it pointed hungrily to the sky, he stabbed her again and again and again, balls pushing against her asscrack, until he too finally came. Streams of jism erupted, pulsing, through the thin tube on the underside of his cock until they splashed out into the voids of her secret places. The strange man's cock was spurting like a burst waterpipe as semen throbbed into her cunt in thick, powerful surges.
And, when Simone felt sperm splashing against her sensitive pockets of cuntsleeve, she began to climax once more, and she could feel the opening of her pussy squeezing the root of his shaft as it pumped and plunged wildly.
After a time, both were sleeping.
When the sun rose Simone awakened to find herself alone in the blanket. The train whistle was blowing, signaling the imminent departure of transportation to Stettin. Simone had no idea whom she had lain with the night before, and her only clue to his identity was the blanket and the fact that she remembered him as being clean-shaven. As she gathered up the blanket she was startled to see that what the two of them had taken for a smooth rock the night before was actually a dud-an unexploded bomb. If the heat of their passion did not discharge it, she reflected, nothing ever would.
She rushed back to her compartment moments before the train started to move.
When the train pulled into Stettin she immediately followed Alex's instructions to get rid of the suitcase, then walked out into Grunewald Square. A magnificent old castle formed the heart of the square, and in that castle was a clock with a dial in the form of a Moor's face. It marked each second by rolling its eyes. Simone's instructions were to stand beneath that clock for five minutes, as a signal that the contraband was in a locker and all was well. Then she hired a cab and went on to her cousin's, where she spent three days before heading back to Marburg.
On the return trip she shared her compartment with two old ladies and a sleeping Nazi Major. When the conductor entered for their tickets, two SS Blackshirts stood outside in the passageway. They quietly checked the three women's papers but did not disturb the sleeping officer. When they left, they took the women's identity papers with them.
No one realized that anything was wrong until just as the train came into a small town east of Berlin, and the train slowed as it passed through railroad yards. One of the old women got up to leave and found the door locked from the outside.
Simone suspected the worst. She had been found out. There was nothing she could do but sit there and wonder whether it was she who was in trouble.
But as the train passed the railroad yard and started to pick up speed again, the Nazi Major swung a leg out of the window, and with a brief wave of his hand, slid out and disappeared among the standing railroad cars.
Startled, Simone bent to the window. Why would a Nazi officer be afraid? Unless he was not a Nazi officer. Back in Stetin there had been newspaper stories of escaped Polish POWs in the area. But if the Major were an imposter, where did he get his uniform?
The man's uniform had been impeccable, down to the four diamonds and oak cluster of rank.
With a sudden realization. Simone knew what it was that she had carried in that large suitcase. No customs officers ever bother checking a student's luggage. And Simone did have a good cover story for making the trip.
Simone was thinking quickly now. What were the chances that the Blackshirts-the Schutztaffel, had not captured another member of the Belgian Students Union? What defense would Simone have? The train was picking up speed: she had only moments to decide. Soon the train would reach Berlin, and if she were not already suspected of complicity, she certainly would be now that the imposter had been seen traveling with her.
Perhaps it was unwise, but the fear that had been growing was now overpowering. Without a backward glance she was over the window ledge and falling hard on the ballast alongside the track. Stones cut her shoulder and tore at the thin cloth covering her breast as she skidded and rolled alongside the track Stunned, but still frightened, she darted toward a row of standing freight cars. She climbed into one at random, and moved to a far corner. She sneezed in the dust, then settled down to examine her stinging shoulder and to think.
The more she thought, the worse her situation seemed. Her dress was a dirty rag now. She had no money or papers. The Nazis knew who she was, and it was impossible for her to return either to her home or to school. The fact that she was a Swiss National might help, but probably would not. After all, she was guilty of the crime of treason.
She was frightened with a terror she had never before encountered. Until this assignment, the Belgian Students Union was a sort of game she played for its sexual encounters. Now, with nowhere to turn, she was as good as caught. Simone could not approach any other members of the underground, for that would be tantamount to betraying them. She would be jeopardizing their freedom far more than she would be helping herself. Her sole hope was to get back to her grandparent's home in Laufenburg, Switzerland. But that course was unrealistic, she knew, since Laufenburg was several hundreds of kilometers to the south.
She was pondering her course of action when the car she was in began moving. The jolt of the engine coupling the string of cars threw her headlong against the dirty floor, driving sharp splinters into her forearms and elbows, and hurting her sprained shoulder.
For the moment, Simone knew, her decision had been made for her by fate. But she had heard of people traveling great distances by freight train. And, while she had no idea of what direction she moved, at least she was getting away from the place where they were likely to begin searching for her.
Clickety-click. It was noisy in the boxcar. Dark, too, except for a rectangle of light where the sliding door stood open. The train increased in speed, although still moving slowly compared to the passenger train she had jumped from. When the passenger train got to Berlin in about half an hour there would be the discovery that she and the imposter were gone, and the word would be telegraphed back along the railroad right-of-way. With luck, she would be many kilometers from where she boarded this boxcar by the time searchers started combing the freight yard.
Just then Simone began to feel almost deliriously euphoric. She was involved in a great espionage adventure, and even when things looked their worst, chance seemed to come to her aid. So long as she remained hidden, the freight car eventually had to take her somewhere near a border. Perhaps even across that border. This was nothing but a short inconvenience. The life threatening fear of a moment ago was replaced by a feeling of calm self-control-until suddenly a shadow moved against the rectangle of light, and a burly, unkempt man hoisted himself through the door to fail heavily upon the dusty floor.
The man's quick eyes searched the darkness as his legs came up beneath him, as though even upon entering, he was readying himself to jump out again. When he saw Simone he grunted a greeting and relaxed visibly. Wordlessly, he crawled on all fours to an opposite corner of the car and wrestled in his torn coat for a pint bottle, which he put briefly to his lips.
"Want a drop, mate?" he asked rather loudly over the noise of the rails as he proffered the bottle to Simone.
She only shook her head. Perhaps the overture was some sort of gesture for companionship. Perhaps it was bad grace to refuse. But something about the man who sat there, breathing heavily, made her feel queasy. Then she noticed him looking queerly at her. He pulled himself to his feet and stumbled toward her through the wobbling car.
Standing unsteadily over her, he whistled. "Why, you're a girl!"
Chapter Two
Flank Invasion
Simone struggled to her feet, but a well-aimed kick from the leering tramp sent a knife blade of pain searing through her cunt. She doubled over as the swaying railroad car pitched her down to her face. Both her fists were tightly wedged against the bruised pubic bone.
His hands were on her body, tugging at her clothes, but a painful paralysis kept her from fighting the inevitable. He tied her wrists behind her with his belt, then began tearing open her dress front. With her wrists tied, and the ache in her groin, Simone could do nothing to protect herself.
His hands were inside her Hemd-a kind of t-shirt with lace, and then inside her bra. The straps broke under the pressure of his large groping hands. He clawed savagely at her tender nipples, drawing them upward. He chuckled gleefully, she thought, with deranged lust, his lewd grin exposing rotting teeth.
His breath was becoming difficult, as he mauled her tiny pouting titbuds. He bent forward to gnaw hungrily on her gland, sending sparks of pain along the tender innervated areola. His hand s ripped at the material of her dress, exposing her belly to his slimy mouth. He nibbled in between her breasts, exuding a fetid breath, and then down to her navel.
He cupped her tits in his two hands, rolling the large orbs in smooth circular movements. Despite their roughness, his thumbs were making her nipples spike up away from the soft mammary flesh.
His face was buried in her soft lean belly, and despite herself, Simone was becoming aroused. She whimpered, unable to hide the excitement which was slowly replacing revulsion and fear.
Then his hands were down at her hips, pushing her clothing down over her buttocks, down her unresisting thighs, knees, calves and ankles. She lay naked beneath him now on the dirt-covered floor of the swaying boxcar, her hands bound, her legs stiff with the ache of her bruised pubic bone.
The tramp's face was covered with sweat, his unkempt hair covering his eyes as he struggled with the buttons of his army-issue trousers. Apparently, Simone concluded, he was one of those men discharged, injured or unfit, who roamed the countryside unmolested by the undermanned local Polizei.
Simone tried to sit up, but lacked the leverage. She began to roll, but her attacker's hand moved swiftly to the crease of her thighs, iron hard fingers gouging the bruised flesh of her pussy. The car was filled with the echo of Simone's scream.
He got down between her legs and began blowing his fetid breath onto her legs. He was filling the soft loop of tender membranes with his tongue, sucking and straining as he thrust the tongue up and back, side to side. His remaining teeth gnawed on the stem of her clit.
She tried to move her legs, but he kept pressing them down. Simone had been in excruciating pain when he had begun to slurp and swallow the juices that poured and bubbled from deep inside her belly. Now, the rhythm of his attentions was massaging away the ache, so that she painfully forced her legs even farther apart to get more of her tight hot sexhole closer to the balm of his snakelike tongue. As she did so he reciprocated by ramming the tongue up into her, laving her hole frenetically at the orifice.
Simone shuddered.
He withdrew his tongue and concentrated on nibbling her swollen, throbbing clit.
Slowly, as the car rocked and swayed beneath their sweaty bodies, he nibbled a path up her midline to between her tits again, then past them to her neck and her trembling chin. His foul-smelling mouth came to rest against her pretty mouth, her eyelids fluttered, and she held her breath in fear and disgust. In that moment she became aware of raindrops on the roof. The realization that the world still existed outside of this boxcar brought back a measure of Simone's courage.
His mouth was no longer kissing hers, and she opened her eyes to see his giant cock waving up out of his forest of pubic hair. He slipped both rough hands under her tender asscheeks and spread her ready cuntlips for his gigantic shaft.
Simone tried to wriggle away, but the man's meaty hand slapped her deafeningly across the face. "Hold still, damn you. You'll take what I give you, bitch."
Simone found her frightened voice to stammer weakly, "Please, n-no."
"What do you mean, 'no?' You have to be asking for this to be here in the first place. I'm only giving you what you're asking for."
She tried, incoherently, to plead with him. She was running from the Blackshirts.
"Yeah? Well you ain't running from me. If I turn you in, perhaps I'll get a reward. If you don't want me to turn you in, you'll have to offer me a better reward."
He would take his 'reward' anyway, she knew. But now the tear that he might later a surrender her to the Schutzstaffel sprung into her mind, and she begged, "Please, please don't hurt me. I never did anything to hurt you."
"Just make it good, baby, and maybe I won't kill you afterwards," he laughed gutturally, obviously enjoying the fear he generated in her.
She lay still. Helplessly bound; nude.
His giant cock slipped down in to place against the loop of pulpy wet fleshiness that guarded her feminine orifice. Simone cringed beneath him. She could clearly feel the outline of his engorged glans, and she could smell his sweat. She smelled too, the odor of excitement, and the clean dampness of the rain. Click/clack-clack.
He was inside of her. He began with a slow in and out movement to fuck her down to the, very depths of her young cunt. Then he struck her face again. "I said to make it good for me, damn it. Now do it."
Reluctantly she twisted her numb legs around in back of him as he pumped in and out of her hot cuntsleeve. She worked her cunny muscles to suck him inside of her with each stroke he made. His fingers dug into the crests of her hips bones and pulled her toward his thrusting rod, penetrating even to the very bottom of her bruised pussy. The cock was buried as far as Simone could take it, and the balls were slapping against, the undersides of her ass as she gyrated submissively.
Moments later Simone felt his semen pouring deep into her, and she felt wave after wave of jism rush forth into her slit. He convulsed peristaltically inside her, groveling and bucking. Wave after wave spurted out of him, until Simone could feel it gushing out the sides of her cunt, running down her asscheeks, and pouring down her thighs.
She was becoming moderately aroused as he shuddered and lurched atop her, pressing her youthful body hard against the dirty floor. Soon, Simone too was gurgling and humping, the firm globes of her milk white ass expanding and contracting as she fucked back and forth along the enormous length of prick. Her abdominal muscles were contracting, and she began to lose control of her arms and legs as jolt after jolt spewed from his cock and splashed deep into her. With each jet of hot sperm, Simone squealed a soft cry deep in her throat.
She wished she had the use of her hands to press him closer to her now, as he mashed heavily down on her tender breasts.
He withdrew just as her cunt began gripping his cock tightly and she approached climax. Cruelly, he rolled her over into a knee-chest position and forced her weak, trembling legs wide apart. The left side of her face pressed against the floor. His hard cock lay in the crease of her ass, stroking over the coccyx as his tongue and lips laved her ear and neck. His grimy fingers slid under her tits to pinch and pluck the nipples into sure nubs of quivering tissue. Her face was getting skinned by the abrasion against the floorboards, beneath which she could distinctly hear the clatter of wheels on the rails. His cock was now moving across her sopping labia. She enjoyed the momentary feeling of his hardness against her throbbing clitoris, the pulsing of his cockhead against her miniprick.
Then his mouth was sliding down alongside her spine, his teeth nipping at her rounded buttocks, her thighs. His tongue returned up to her gash and lapped over her twitching anal ring. For a minute the tongue fluttered around Simone's hairless asshole, then darted to the center of it. Hard fingers were spreading her asscheeks apart and the tongue was forcing its way into her anus. A cruel prodding gouged her rectum.
Then the tongue was gone and Simone felt only the cool moisture in her asscrease. Her sphincter relaxed as she tried to turn her head to protect the angry raw skin of her left cheek.
Her pinioned, belt-bound arms made movement difficult in the swaying car. She felt the warm breath over the fullness of her marble white ass, and she felt the perspiring flesh stretching between her taut thighs as he inserted his fingers between them. He dipped the middle finger in the flowing juices of her cunt and swirled it around the blonde-haired orifice.
Slowly his finger moved over the bridge of flesh to Simone's tiny puckered rear entrance where it circled to lubricate the sphincter. The tramp poised his fingertip on the edge of the small, helplessly quivering opening and pushed relentlessly. The calloused finger popped in. Simone struggled vainly to escape, tightly clenching her rectum to keep it out. But her tiny hole began to relax back on the invading finger, bringing it into her yet further.
Soon Simone's vulnerable passage was sluicing up and down on the jutting finger like a pussy, each time the tramp pulled his finger out and rammed it mercilessly all the way up. Each time his doubled first finger struck the soft yielding smoothness of her firm asscheeks.
Simone groaned. It hurt to have the calloused finger abrading her tightly closed rectal walls.
He responded to her groan by taunting her, driving his finger in deeper, and grinding it around and around in the widely stretched anal passage. Involuntarily moving to subdue the pain, she was answering his movements as her virginal anus became accustomed to the thickness of the finger. She could feel the delicate glans of her clitoris tingling beneath its protective hood.
With her legs quivering from fear and a budding excitement, Simone let him stroke his huge cock against her oven-hot slit. She could feel the penis spreading the target-like gash of her hair-rimmed pussy.
It felt so big. She had never seen any cock so huge and purple. It seemed to stretch her buttocks apart even as it rested in her asscrease. Then, suddenly she felt him tighten his hard fingers on her asscheeks and nudge the rapacious cockhead toward the tiny cringing opening, parting the puckered ring of muscle as it advanced.
Simone's first thought was that it was impossible that the man could not find the proper opening. Then slowly came the realization of what he intended. He was pushing his fence-post sized prick into her virginal opening. He would tear her apart she knew, spearing her to die ignominiously on the sodomizing cock.
"Hey! You can't..." she started to say. Then she cringed. "Please, please... please don't. It's too big. You... agggggghhhhhh!" Her voice caught in her throat as he pushed the unlubricated cock uncaringly into the recoiling muscle of her ass. Her asshole was being stretched painfully around the advancing cock.
She groaned her objections desperately now, pinned as she was by the digging fingers and the savagely piercing cock.
"That's the way," the bum urged, "Make lots of noise. Nobody can hear, but it sure makes me excited." He continued taunting her, watching her pain-contorted face as she groveled to escape the brutal assault on her untried anus.
She could hear his laughter over the click/clack-clack of the rails as he forced his glans into her, the anus snapping shut around the very tip of the cock.
"I can't take any more of it!" she pleaded, feeling the hard rigidity of his prick inside her virginal softness.
"Just keep begging, you whore. I like that," he said, pulling on her nakedly trembling buttocks to bring her still more firmly against his cock. He inserted another inch, and she thrashed in helpless pain. Over half the bulging cock was inside of her when her screams died down, and with her tied wrists and forehead, braced herself for the final ripping invasion of her tortured anus.
She could feel him draw back and, using all of his leverage, ram as hard as possible into her searing rectum. He rode the inertia all the way until she could feel his balls smacking heavily into the raw moisture of her pussylips.
"Don't move," Simone begged as she made her whole body rigid to avoid irritating the blazing fire of pain that originated where his thick cock reamed her intestines. The tramp left his thoroughly hard cockmeat inserted, waiting, while Simone managed to relax and adjust her asshole to the prick, and thereby relieve the worst of the pain.
Simone felt him hold her down on his slithering stone-hard cock as he began a gentle in and out motion. She felt him increase the stroke length each time, and the spongy wall of her rectum tightened unmercifully on the thrusting piston. She moaned helplessly, but her voice only seemed to drive her aggressor to greater depravity. Simone had never been so debased, so used. She felt soiled and dirty. She was forced to move in rhythm with the assfucking in order to allay the pain, but gradually she felt her ass involuntarily twitch, as her creamy young buttocks slowly began to answer his thrusts. Simone's face gradually relaxed, and she was no longer groaning in protest, but in lustful expectation. She felt herself almost involuntarily grinding against him, and, by degrees, her hot little asshole was lewdly rotating against the steel-wool abrasion of his pubic hair. Simone closed her eyes now to concentrate on the lewdly shameful sensation within her shameless ass. She was skewering herself onto his heavily plunging fucktool, and they fucked harder and faster. Her sexily bouncing body swayed in the rolling boxcar rhythmically. She listened to the sucking sounds as her deflowered anus squeezed and expanded, squeezed and expanded, again and again. Simone cried out at the excitement that swept over her senses, "Fuck me... fuck my ass. I'm going to come! Fuck me in the ass... harder-harder-harrr-deerrr, ugh!"
With little warning the tidal wave of orgasmic climax began in the deep nerve endings of her bowels and rushed wildly through her veins. Her buttocks were thrashing lasciviously against his relentless cock. She could feel the spurts of semen pumping out from the tube at the bottom of his rigid cock, getting deep into the hidden depths of her intestines. He was grunting like an animal, slapping his hands on her flanks and crashing brutally into the seductive young buttocks which she was swiveling beneath him.
Then the tramp lurched with one final ass-flattening smack upon the upturned cheeks of her white ass, driving his fucktool all the way in, rapidly emptying himself as though to burst her belly with the flood of jism. Before his spasms slowed to a halt, Simone was clamping down with her anal sphincter, savoring the electric flush of climax to its very conclusion. She held the crinkly sac against her tingling cunt until the deflating prick finally popped from her anus and the escaping jism drained obscenely down Simone's creamy young thighs.
Click/clack-clack. The raindrops continued on the roof. After releasing her bound wrists, the bum lay sleeping, his head swaying with the sideways motion of the train. He had fallen asleep muttering contented obscenities at her as she pulled the remnants of her clothing around her youthfully mature figure.
The abrupt application of the brakes sent Simone sprawling once again to the floor. The train was slowing to a halt. She looked from the door to see that they were over water, on a trestle. She looked forward and saw the reason for the halt. Nazis in Schutzstafffel uniform were grouped by the locomotive at the far bank. This would be a perfect place to search the train for contraband, she reflected, or perhaps for her. Nothing could leave the train without being seen.
Again, Simone felt the impulse to prompt action. She had evaded arrest on the passenger train earlier in the day. She was a strong swimmer, having competed in diving events since she was a little girl at the Lyceum. Through the light, drizzle she could see the far shore. It. was wooded. She was certain she could swim underwater for that distance.
It was about five or seven meters to the water surface. After that, if she swam upstream underwater she might be able to get into the woods undetected.
She began hyperventilating. The tramp stirred and sat up, groggily cursing.
He had threatened to turn her over to the authorities, she remembered. She had no alternative now even if the Nazis did not search the train car by car. She hastily stripped down to her Hemd and panties.
She plunged out, narrowly missing an iron beam and diving headlong into the water. The cold water stung her body, and most of the tatters of her Hemd came away. She checked her descent, not certain how deep the water might be, then swam toward one of the limestone pilings. On the far side of the stonework, she decided to surface for air before striking out upstream. She had barely replenished her oxygen when a gun discharged and ricocheting splinters of limestone stung her calf beneath the knee. She submerged and began swimming desperately, not daring to surface until she came to the very edge of the shore. She was uncertain how far away from the bridge she had gotten, for she did not know how strong the current might be. But by swimming upstream she would at least have the advantage that the soldiers would first look for her downstream. Learning from her experience at the bridge piling, she wasted no time looking about when she left the water, but plunged directly into the scrub. At first, there appeared to be any number of good places to hide, but she knew that, after waiting for her or her remains to appear downstream, they would search relentlessly until she was found. Furthermore, remaining where she was decreased the lead she had on her pursuers.
Her heart was pounding in her throat and temples, but she felt that she was making good time with her bare feet on the soft earth of the berm. The muscles of the leg struck by rock particles seemed uninjured, despite the blood that trickled to her ankle. She had no clue of pursuit until suddenly three Blackshirts were beside her.
She stopped short, giving a slight cry as she looked around, like a caged animal. Wherever she turned, eyes ogled her nearly naked figure, and she sniffed back tears of frustration.
One thug grabbed her by the arm and threw her to her knees.
"Looky here, what we have," the soldier took a short whip from his coat. "You," he spat toward Simone, "will address me as Herr Rittmeister. I will address you as any Rittmeister addresses his horse." With that the others laughed.
By way of demonstration he struck her naked back cruelly with his whip. Simone screamed.
"Scream louder!" the "Rittmeister" urged, striking her again and again. When Simone sagged to the wet cool earth under the blows, she was jerked upright by the hair. "Hey! Horses lay down when I say so. Not before." The watchers seemed to find that humorous.
She tried desperately to remain on her knees when he let go of her hair, but she was so weak from fear, the running, the beating, that she only collapsed again.
"Bitch! Traitor!" the self-styled Rittmeister yelled, and then her body was alive with stinging pain.
Buzz/snap. The whip crossed her vulnerable wet flesh, raising an angry welt. Simone tried to move away. "Please!" She held up her hands before her in entreaty. A barrage of lashes descended from the whip, each stinging separately, each adding to the overall wave of searing pain. The snapping whip was finding every square centimeter of her body, and she groveled, trying to escape in the direction from which the blows seemed to originate.
Simone realized with that part of her brain that was free to think, that she had been overcome with fear only momentarily. Now that the terror had subsided, she was realizing that she could still separate a part of her thinking processes from the incessant pain. The whip stung, but it was not fatal, so that the sensation was not totally one of cutting pain, but of progressive numbness brought about by the successive stings of the whip on already welted flesh. It was never absent, but it was a goad, not a torture. Each new wound was a source of awareness.
Somewhere inside she knew that her stiff and determined resistance was becoming pulpy like her skin. Her insides were succumbing to the majesty of the officer with the whip-the power. She felt a sort of confused gratitude that there were masters with power over humans with lesser perfection. Simone had been caught, therefore she was inferior to the glorious men of the Third Reich, the men who captured her. As any spoil of war she was to be punished and used as a captor thought fit.
Simone was aware of an obscurely erotic quality in the entire situation, an erogenous sensation which derived from her subjugation. She knew the blows of the whip were exciting her now. The touch of the lash was obviously aimed more often at her genitals and swaying breasts than at her legs and head. She could feel her cunt get boggy with the out-flowing juices that demanded escape from her melting viscera.
The blows were easing off, giving Simone a chance to lower her arms from the protection of her face and catch her rasping breath.
Hands were groping her. Her whip-tattered and bloodstained panties were torn from her. One of the thugs squirmed, beneath her from behind and started tonguing her pussy, when the second mounted her from behind and drove his cock viciously in her exposed and recently stretched asshole. At the same time, the whip was biting her shoulders repeatedly.
Simone tried to scream, but the Rittmeister rammed his prick into her mouth. She felt her face contort with pain. The thug beneath her slid up until his cock rested against her cuntal slit. Writhing with her last energies from the fucking in the ass, she glided up and down the hard shaft of the one underneath, her tits pressed against the hard cold buttons of his uniform. He bit her tits, bruising them, while the Rittmeister was yelling, "Slut, I'm there. You ready?"
Simone gagged as though she would suffocate momentarily.
The one in her ass reached forward to hold her shoulders for support as he skewered Simone until he too, came. The one beneath her was getting ready to come, and he pulled her head down by the hair while he fucked vigorously up into her.
Simone, nearly delirious, was gradually becoming aroused from the maltreatment. She had never had sex with more than one man before, the thought of it was equated with Lesbianism on her scale of morality. But the feeling was not entirely unpleasant. The semen in her mouth was quickly swallowed and she was free to concentrate on groveling her cunt onto the erect cock as the third one came, shuddering, into her tight pussy. Simone was still humping on the final quivering cock when the other two men lifted her off of it. It made a popping sound as her slimy cunt separated from the spurting shaft.
She was at this point excitedly aroused. Upon being brought to her feet, she realized why the three had interrupted their sport. Others were approaching through the woods. They were bringing the bedraggled old bum with them.
"This guy tells us he knows nothing about Polish escapees," the Nazi Lieutenant with the newcomers said to Simone. "You talk, bitch, or grandfather here dies."
"He's telling the truth," Simone said with a weak voice, her body sore and aching
"You see! I never saw her before in my life," the tramp bobbed his head up and down emphatically.
The Lieutenant carefully placed his hand in a leather glove and punched the excitable old man. When the tramp sagged under the pain, the officer turned again to Simone. "Since he never saw you before Fraulein, I find it necessary to ask you how your clothing got into the car in which we found him. You are obviously somewhat scantily clad so the clothes we found must be yours."
"I-I-he... he..." she stammered
"Vermischen Sie einander? You two intermingling a little on a rainy day? Well, well," the Lieutenant laughed. "This will be the last time you see your lover, Liebchen. How about an affectionate farewell?"
The soldiers were already stripping the confused tramp. Simone was startled to see, when they removed his trousers, that he was rock hard. Perhaps it was fear, but Simone still felt excited from her interrupted intercourse, too. She was too weak to fight and allowed herself unresisting, to be thrown down to the mud. She still felt the slime of the gangbanging she had just experienced, but the memory of that excited her still further. She trembled as they pulled her legs apart and positioned the bum's hips on her.
Despite the audience, the tramp had no difficulty performing. He ground down on her and she dutifully responded, groaning in her abasement and shame, but opening up to him with anticipation all the same. Simone could still taste jism in her mouth, but it no longer was unpleasant.
"Go at it baby, fuck the old bastard good or get your ass whipped some more!" the watchers encouraged Simone. The frenetic man reached down to fondle her tits as he eagerly pumped himself up and down, his cock rubbing her erect miniprick. Her cunt squeezed down on him, urging him to greater heights as he fucked her mindlessly, drool escaping his blubbery lips as he puffed heatedly. The hot lava of their passion was combining now in her innermost recesses, as the Lieutenant stepped up to the writhing couple. Just as the man exploded in climax, Simone heard another explosion.
The bum's head came down abruptly against hers, momentarily blinding her with the agony of the head-splitting crack, so that all she could feel was an enormous flexion of the quivering muscles that embraced her.
And then she was coming. She shouted in sudden ecstasy as her cunt sluiced up and down the poker-like tool. The agony of her headache was subsiding with her growing climax, and she opened her eyes-to see that the Lieutenant was standing over them with a smoking Luger It was a fraction of a second before she could take in the whole picture of bits of bone and bloody flesh scattered like hamburger.
The back of the tramps head had been shot away. Small automatic muscle twitches continued to jerk his dying body.
Simone forced the nausea down, swallowing hard. She realized that she was about to come and she could not stop herself. She was unable to reverse the wave of release that was beginning to start deep inside her pussy. She was still humping excitedly on the dead man s turgid prick, and she could not stop.
Vomit welled up in her chest, and she closed her eyes, but with all of that she was unable to will her body to stop its lewd rotary gyration. The body on top of her twitched, and that movement set off her orgasm.
She came, pumping hard. Simone's uncontrollable body erupted into a fiery shower of sparks as she clamped her mouth and eyes shut to keep out the blood that trickled over her face
Consciousness was fading then. Had the Lieutenant done away with her just as she achieved orgasm, as he had done away with the bum? Her thoughts were scrambled, and she was unable to fight any longer. Helplessly she relinquished her tenuous hold on consciousness.
She awoke on the floor of a truck. Her forehead was bouncing a tattoo on the steel floor. She heard a groan: It was her own. She felt stiff and defeated. At least she was alive. She tried to roll over, but the effort was too great.
She felt consciousness slipping once more, and this time embraced the void with anticipation.
Chapter Three
Field Work
When she awakened again she was in a well lit room. Her first impression was that of an infirmary of some kind. She felt exhausted, but managed to turn her head. At the door she saw a Brownshirt Wacht. Her recollections streamed in upon her and she lay in silent foreboding.
She had never been so vilely treated before. Any thought of honor, of civility, was gone from these vicious Nazis. These people, it seemed to Simone, lived in a subhuman way.
It was not simply the sexual conduct, she had been sexually active since just before puberty. On the farm, that was how all the children were-It was more the depraved, overbearing, and unfeeling nature of the sexual act as performed by her captors, that was so repulsive to her.
Her childhood had been quite different. Even when, at puberty, her grandfather would still let her sleep in his bed with him. Grandmama would always make remarks if she found out, but Simone would wait until the house was quiet and she knew grandfather would be in bed. Then she would go into his room, slip under the covers, and, making herself into a ball, curl up against him. He would never send her away.
Sometimes she slept so soundly that grandmama's maid would find them together in the morning, but Simone knew the maid never said anything to grandmama. Simone had come from a very closely knit and protective family, and perhaps her recent experiences were not atypical of the rest of the country s sexual habits. Nonetheless she preferred less violent intercourse
Simone's recollections of her youth included only one incident of violence: The taking of her cherry. Her father's huge agricultural estate featured a large home which was built in 1572. In the entryway of the house stood a solid oak wall in which the names and birthdates of all of the children born of the de Schnois family were inlaid by carpenters. The structure of the house itself had been rebuilt three times, but the four cellars and the wooden wall were never altered.
Her fairyland world ended with her puberty which coincided with the beginning of the war, the Anschluss, or joining of Austria to the Reich. That was... what? 1938? She remembered that she had been at her grandfather's farm near Laufenburg between school semesters. There, everyone would eat together in a common dining room with the farm hands and peasants, for grandfather refused to take meals apart in a separate room like the other landowners did.
But everyone had to do some kind of work. Except guests. One day, Simone recalled clearly, she did not want to do her particular chore, and remarked about it at the table. Grandfather told her she should be glad of such light work instead of having to work in the fields like the peasants. But Simone had been a self-willed child and she said she would rather work in the fields because that could be no harder than the chore she had. The peasants at the table roared with laughter and Simone got angry. But her grandfather made no argument, he simply agreed to let her work in the fields.
In the potato fields she had to keep up with the peasants as a matter of pride, and she had never worked so hard in her life. She was working what seemed to be a particularly difficult row, working alongside the field foreman. He kept moving on, without stopping or tiring, and she followed after.
A time came when she felt she had no strength left. Sweat poured down her face in streams, ran into her eyes, dripped off her nose, drenching her back. Her hands and knees were bruised and bleeding.
She had to exert all of her strength to keep up with the peasants, but she was glad, because she knew that she would be able to hold out. The following rows were already easier.
Then her grandfather rode up in his carriage and had his coachman stop near her. She continued working, filling her bag, obstinately not looking at him.
The field foreman called to her and pointed to the carriage. Grandfather waved her over to him. He looked at her with a mixture of concern and amusement. Simone remembered. "You've learned your lesson; you won't speak out again. Climb out of that dress as soon as you get home, though-it's a fright. Well, why do you stand there? Get in. I'll drive you back to the house."
Simone refused. Insisted on staying until the peasants quit at sundown.
She almost, enjoyed her task then. But when sundown came, she did not care whether she would ever see another potato. Tired, but relaxed, she had started walking home alone through the eerie light of the room.
Suddenly, she felt a rough hand around her face and another around her waist, lifting her slender young body off the ground. She had never before known a moment of fear in her life, and she had no real fear then. She tried to scream, to struggle, as she felt herself being pulled down among tall weeds and grasses.
She looked into the eyes of one of the peasant men.
"You hot little bitch!" he grunted. "Think you can come out here and flaunt your tight little ass all day, and then prance up to the big house, snubbing your admirers, eh?"
Simone felt the first genuine panic in her life then. The peasant pulled a rag out of his shirt and stuffed it in Simone's mouth. She kicked and scratched, but she was tired, and. probably unequal to the burly peasant's strength anyway.
She closed her eyes against the embarrassment of having her dress torn from her body. She did not yet wear a bra, and her white pert breasts gleamed with the sweat of hard work under the bright moon. The peasant clutched greedily at the soft spongy white of her still under-developed, tits. Simone struggled even harder when she felt the peasant yank off her undergarments to reveal her pussy with its few scanty hairs. The huge heavy hands were spreading her slender, work-exhausted legs then, and with a grunt he threw off his own pants.
His body was swarthy, muscular. A huge male organ pointed accusingly at Simone, standing at right angles to his belly.
Desperately, the virginal Simone tried to kick, but the rough strong hands were pressing her virginal tits and Simone, could merely cry bitter tears of shame and of fear.
But her attacker did not seem to notice the tears streaming from her eyes, for, grunting like a pig, he took his massive dark penis in his hand and put it at the entrance to her virginal private parts. She could feel the dirt against her naked back as the man's arms pushed her pitilessly against the hard ground.
He thrust violently, and Simone's cry of pain and shame was lost beneath the gag in her mouth. Simone listened to the abhorrent guttural lust-filled grunts of the peasant as he struggled to break her cherry.
There was only one brief sharp pain that ripped through Simone's slender virginal body. She heard the unmistakable gasp of the peasant's surprise when the head of his cock jabbed her hymen, and then with her legs flailing wildly in a vain attempt to forestall her denigration, she felt the brutal pole penetrate her final barrier and thrust cruelly up high into her untried vagina.
That initial penetration was followed by a sequence of rhythmic thrusts, and Simone could feel his heavy, sperm-filled testicles against her quivering buttocks.
Simone was taut with pain, unmoving except for the flood of tears which flowed freely down her face. She was soon dizzy with shame and anguish, as the peasant's massive penis threatened to rip her apart down below. The man's garlic breath nauseated Simone, as he puffed and grunted with growing passion. Clutching Simone's shoulders tightly to himself, the peasant, increased his lewd fury. Simone felt as though her virginal parts were on fire, and her humiliation grew as the shock of surprise and confusion wore off.
She had time then to consider her own responses to this debasement. It was certainly not as gentle, nor as painful, as she had been made to believe by the talk of other girls. She learned that if she moved ever so slightly beneath her attacker, however, that the ache was somewhat abated. But when she began to move beneath him, the peasant's motions increased in speed and ferocity, and his testicles slapped against her fanny harder.
Nonetheless, Simone realized that the strange sensation was welling up within her, and she was unsure what that sensation was. Simone's reflections had been interrupted, when a shadow abruptly fell across the moon. Startled, she opened her eyes and renewed her struggles. Standing over Simone and her attacker were more peasants, their leering faces outlined in the specter of the moon. As Simone gazed at them unbelieving, they all removed their trousers, revealing monstrously erect male organs. Some of them began to fondle their penises when they saw the peasant raping her start to climax. Simone winced as she felt the load of sperm hit the bruised walls of her virginal passage, dripping back from her hole with every backward thrust of the peasant's tool.
The peasant rose from her limp form grunting and laughing. Simone still struggled, but where could she run now? "A virgin! Nice and tight in there," he said with a tone of what seemed to be admiration.
As she feared, the second peasant pounced upon her involuntarily scissoring legs. As this young man jabbed his erection through her recently opened tissues, Simone felt she would die with shame. Not only was she being deflowered, on the filthy soil; others were seeing her being shamefully abused.
The second peasant was pummeling her in his passion, his penis driving in and out brutally as waves of pain inundated her burning body. But her previous ravisher had lubricated her corrugated walls, which made this violation easier to bear.
Body screaming in pain, mind tortured with the shame and humiliation, Simone tried to separate herself from the horror of the spectacle she made. She felt the heavy sawing of the man's rod, felt the thickness throbbing against the stinging walls of her innermost portals, felt the prickly pubic hair against her almost hairless pubic mons. The action was making flatulent sounds in the sticky wetness between her thighs, in the fluids put there by her first rapist.
Again Simone experienced the sensations of a man ejaculating into her quivering insides. Each thrust inward deposited what felt like a huge gob of hot sticky scum. She heard one of the other peasants grunts, and felt a sticky hot splash upon her face. She looked up in horror. The field foreman was pumping out his semen all over Simone's helpless body. Her second rapist withdrew, slapping her playfully on her flank as he did so.
Simone tried to turn her face away from the rush of semen. Another splash landed between her well-developing breasts as a third peasant knelt between her thighs in the moonlight.
She felt as though she were numb in the crotch. The third entry was heavy and dull-feeling. Simone was shaking with the tension of the moment but her hands were clenching and unclenching as her ass bounced spastically in time to the outrage. Another massive male tool was pushed deeper and deeper. She felt it force apart the very furthest part of her vagina and lodge tightly in her bowels. She wished that she could be sick, she felt so full. But she knew the gag in her mouth would probably suffocate her with her own vomit.
The peasant clutched the round smooth globes of her buttocks and raised them to permit further entry. He began to pump in and out then, and Simone was feeling the entire length of his manmeat. Strong deep strokes increased in speed and strength as his balls slapped wetly on the girl's bruised and swollen virgin pussy lips. The funny sensation which Simone could not at first identify was growing stronger. The pain was subsiding and she could feel her own juices begin to pour freely.
Then followed a hard insistent throbbing deep within her, that reached from the most secret recesses of her body to the very edge of her sphincter. Her womb was driving her body to pulsate with a strange new life.
Her muscles were contracting, as though operated without her voluntary will, around the brutally invading penis. Her secret little nubbin right above the place she made pee seemed to swell. Simone realized then that she was melting, her whole insides dripping with thick warm sex fluids.
The ravishing peasant, was still humping cruelly upon her, but the sensation was now one of titillation, almost of pleasure. When Simone was finally aware that she was feeling sensual pleasure, she was appalled at her own perversity. What could be wrong with her to respond so lasciviously? Her cunny muscles were rippling convulsively, her ass jumping lewdly to clutch greedily at the raping fucktool of her attacker.
She tried by sheer effort of will to turn off the sensation, but it was already out of control. She was unable to stop her ass cheeks from making tiny little semicircles as her legs held her ass high off the dirt, helping; worse, inviting, the man to take her this way.
More humiliated than ever, Simone surrendered to the feeling with frustration. That feeling grew rapidly now, tossing her whole body from side to side in convulsive tremors of spastic spasms.
Simone remembered very little after that. She somehow made it home and to bed. She cleaned herself off and carefully avoided being near any of the field workers the remainder of the summer. Even so, mealtimes were a humiliating experience. She never spoke to her grandfather about the incident, and the fact that she did not, made her feel, if possible, even more guilt-ridden.
Abruptly, Simone's thoughts were interrupted by the entry into her room of two matrons. They were war-hardened stout women, wearing crisp white blouses and severe blue skirts which reached halfway down between knees and ankles.
Roughly and wordlessly they took Simone from the cot and dragged her, naked, through the hallways to a Spartan office building near the far end of a courtyard. Simone had no doubt now that she was inside a prison.
In a room that was bare except for two chairs, she was deposited on one of the wooden chairs. The seat was so cold that it made her ass cheeks burn with the odd sensation. Her tender pussylips were spread open, flat on the hard cold seat, and the feeling was so delicious that for several moments Simone almost forgot where she was. She squirmed, savoring the icy caress on her pussy. After awhile she crossed her legs and swayed from side to side, ever so slightly, to expose all of her tender membranes to the delightful sensation.
She experienced all the possible nuances on that hard chair during what seemed like six hours, while she was left to sit there without food or water. Finally a pre-occupied Hauptmann-captain-entered from another door and seated himself heavily on the other chair in the room facing Simone.
"Fraulein de Schnois. We have arrested all of the others involved in the plot to smuggle Nazi officers' uniforms to escaped Polish prisoners of war. There is no use denying your own involvement, you understand? Good. We will proceed. I want you to tell me the names of everyone, you understand? Good. Proceed."
"I know of no one else, Herr Hauptmann. I am innocent of smuggling... check with my father-"
"Your family cannot get you out of this. One of the POWs was riding with you in your compartment on the train. We have two witnesses, two schoolteachers. Highly reliable, you understand? Good. You must have had some authority to be that close to the situation. I want you to tell me the names of everyone, even the names of the enemy prisoners of war you fraternized with. You understand?"
"Look, I'm 'innocent. I know many good Nazis who will vouch for my character... there is Kurt Schnedler, a Standartenfuhrer..."
"We have witnesses..."
"How do you know the schoolteachers weren't involved?"
"Don't interrupt, you stupid schoolgirl!"
It was a ridiculous position for Simone to take, she, knew. The schoolteachers were probably the mothers of boys who had fought and died on the front. But she also knew that her only chance of getting out of this before the end of the war was to outsmart these woodenheaded soldiers. Furthermore, she saw that while the Hauptmann sat rigidly proper, his eyes traveled everywhere over her nude body.
He continued leering at her nudity, focusing on her smooth ripe breasts, while he continued talking coolly, but repetitiously. "You don't understand. That is unfortunate. You are a university student and presumably intelligent. You should know that there is no trail available to you. This is wartime and you have committed a war crime. If you cooperate, things can be made more comfortable for you. You are, as I said, presumably intelligent. Therefore, you will be treated that way until you prove otherwise," he intoned while his eyes fixed on her tightly crossed thighs. "Not all prisoners are thrown-uh, suffer whatever fate might befall them. You understand? Good. You will, I am sure, cooperate. By way of illustration of what can happen if you do not prove as intelligent as I would, er, hope, may I escort you on a tour of our facility? It is Lehrterstrasse."
"In Berlin?" Simone asked, and sadly watched him confirm her question with a nod. There had been rumors of Berliners complaining of the wailing in wintertime that came from behind the walls of Lehrterstrasse at night.
Numbly, Simone followed the Hauptmann through the door and down many steps. They passed no one in the hall until they came to a window. Around the window, which entered into another room, stood several guards who were looking through the window with an aura of anticipation.
Simone stood, clumsily trying to hide her nudity from the many eyes and simultaneously to look inside the window itself.
The Hauptmann's voice droned on "We are replicating the experiments of Dr. Rascher which were originally undertaken at Dachau in 1942. We find that Berlin is colder, and thus more suitable, you understand?"
Beyond the window Simone saw a bed, with a man lying naked upon it. The color of his skin was somehow wrong, bluish grey and mottled with white. Is he dead? Simone asked with repulsion.
"No. He was frozen in an ice bath for experiments which we hope will provide information regarding life-support for German airmen who are forced to land in the colds of Russia. For example, we have found that we can reduce the body core temperature, as measured rectally, to twenty-five degrees Centigrade, and the patient will recover so long as the head and neck are kept warm. The hypothalamus seems to be the critical organ of temperature maintenance. You understand? Good "
The poor man," Simone muttered.
"Not a man-a Jew. But if you feel so sorry for him, why don't we let you go inside and warm him up, eh? Would you like to hold his hand?" the Hautptmann suggested, pushing Simone through the door. Two other naked women were sitting on a bench just inside the doorway. They looked haggard and tired, Simone thought, and the fear in their eyes shone like that of trapped animals when come upon by the hunter.
The room smelled. It did not have the odor of vomit and excrement which she anticipated, but a bittersweet scent. The smell of charred rubber bog gas, and blood. The smell of old cardboard rotting in a swamp. All around the room, the hunkering men watched Simone's nudity avidly.
Simone looked at the frozen prisoner. Naked, deathly grey, purple and crimson veins crisscrossing his milky skin like a roadmap. Hairless, nostrils dilating as he breathed shallowly, slowly. The orbits of his eyes were larger than they should have been, and through his slack lips Simone saw the rows of jagged, discolored teeth.
Simone, only gradually realizing now what was expected of her, tried to pull back. But the Hauptmann roughly lifted her and threw her down beside the still-blue-grey man.
The icy cold of his flesh made Simone shiver uncontrollably. He was less like a man than a frozen fish.
"Snuggle, damn you!" the Hauptmann shouted. "If he doesn't resuscitate you will die with him, you understand?" An attendant handed the Hauptmann a short whip, which he used to accentuate his last words.
Obediently Simone tried to hug the man, whose eyes opened briefly, then remained open as she breathed warmth over his face. Simone saw that he was becoming sluggishly aroused. A prisoner, he had probably not been allowed normal satisfaction with a woman for months or years. Partly in sympathy for the man, she stroked more firmly, pressing her own warmth against his skin in an effort to raise his temperature and rouse his will. Over a period of many minutes he responded, shivering tragically until the entire bed shook, much to the delight of the observers at the window.
Simone could tell that the prisoner's temperature was beginning to increase, warming his skin to an almost acceptable level. His teeth were chattering when the lust in his eyes became such that Simone could look into his face no longer. He concentrated on rubbing her pert white breasts while she simultaneously warmed his thighs with hers, slowly stroking with her smoothly curved legs.
His penis was like an icicle, jabbing up at her soft abdomen when she rubbed against it. She decided to warm this tumescent organ with her mouth blowing gently upon its sensitive underside and stroking the chilly scrotal sac with her fingers.
The Hauptmann's whip touched her asscheek bitingly "Go down on him. We haven't all day. We have other duties to attend to. Hurry "
Simone knew what the Hauptmann meant by "going down." She had been forced to do that by one of the three who captured her. But she had been passive then. Now, she was being told to actively put that icicle inside her mouth, and the thought was repulsive. Even as she was thinking these thoughts her face was being pushed down against the prisoner s erection. She opened her mouth to object and found it instantly filled with a cool throbbing cock that jerked and jumped inside. She tongued its slippery smooth underside and continued to fondle the balls. All the while she knew that her ass was widely exposed for all of the observers to study. Yet it was impossible for her to stop, she would be beaten bloody if she even paused to breathe.
Yes, she reflected, what was the difference? The war would be over according to intelligence she had gotten in the underground, in another month or two. Summer of '45 at the latest. Then she would be freed. If she survived.
The shivering man moved his hands to grope stiffly at her large globes of titflesh with their unabashedly erect nipples. The cold had done something to Simone, something lascivious and incomprehensible. She recalled having been taken in a snowbank by Erich, one of her cousins. This was something like that time in the woods. Erich, poor Erich, had been killed at Leningrad the following year.
These cold groping hands were not at all like Erich's. They were rough and calloused, and the man's thin unshaven face leered at Simone with the intentness of an animal. Simone felt herself blush as she continued doing what she had been ordered, under the prisoner's relentless gaze.
Slowly, he became highly aroused, and sat up, reaching out with both hands for Simone's hair. Frightened by the suddenness of his movements, she scrambled away. The man slid from the bed, his erect cock pointing at her. He was moving unsteadily toward her when the Hauptmann's whip snapped across the groin and the prisoner doubled over with a wince of pain.
The lash of the whip had made the prisoner flaccid once again. But his eyes still shone with a glassy lust. Again, Simone was ordered to caress the prisoner, and again he became tumescent. The whip cracked, and the man whined with heartrending frustration as the sting of the whip reduced his rearing cock to putty. When she again brought him to the brink, she realized that the Hauptmann was not going to interfere. The men behind the window were shouting in a frenzy to have the prisoner released from his frustration.
The prisoner was quickly on top of her, forcing her to the floor, his breath heavy on her face as he gasped with excitement and pummeled her body in search of her fuckhole.
His cold fingers were like insects crawling on her skin. Her body was taut with discomfort. The prisoner, grunting like a rutting animal, took his ominous cock in his hand and rammed it against her mouth. At the same time he pushed her leg back with his free hand, opening her up for all the soldiers to see. Simone felt she could have died with the embarrassment of this degradation.
She could see the leering scowls on the faces pressed against the window, and she wondered momentarily whether death might not be easier.
Then she felt the prisoner's calloused hands rough on her shoulders as he thrust his weak, skinny hips against her. He thrust violently, the more vicious because of the previous interruptions.
Her cry, when she felt the coldness of his steel-like rod rip through her dry inflamed membranes, was lost in the guttural, lusty laughter of those watching. Simone felt a sharp, piercing pain rip through her youthful body as the slender coldness thrust heavily into her incredibly tight, inflamed cunt. She felt the brutal battering of the cock thrusting into her body, her legs flailing wildly, helplessly against the onslaught.
She was never so psychologically unprepared for sex, so completely turned off by everything around her. The prisoner's eyes shone with a madness she had never seen before. She could feel her tears flow freely as the prisoner's icy cock pulled painfully out to the very edge of her hole, and then thrust forward again. Each thrust hurt her more, so that she felt dizzy with the driving repetitious ache. It felt as though the icicle would rip her apart. The shame, the anguish, was almost unbearable now, as the speed of the prisoner's fucking increased, so that her cunt felt like it was burning despite the cold.
Simone hated her tormentor. She hated him with all of the young passion she had. She wished she could consume the prisoner, fuck him to death. Consume him inside her abused young blonde body.
The thought, made her react violently. She writhed, bucking and wrenching against his steely thin frame. The lustful fish-cold flesh responded to her, and the combination of fear, shame, and hate made Simone stab her slender young pelvis down on the wretched prisoner, impaling herself while fucking him, fucking... fucking... fucking.
Simone wrapped her legs around the very wiry waist of her tormentor, squeezing down, punching her ass up at him, fucking... fucking... fucking. And the tender stretched membrane of her pussy was no longer burning with the cold pain. Her pussy was wet with her slippery-hot internal juices as she humped, slashing her hips from side to side until it seemed she would dismount her rider. She was fucking savagely, hatefully, and, in a weary manner, lustfully.
Gradually and by degrees she felt her body respond to the pummeling of the cold fucking, the everlasting, repetitive, thrust and withdrawal-thrust and withdrawal.
Simone hated it. Hated herself. She was desperate with shame, confusion, and mental anguish as her body responded to the torturing jabs. She felt her body hardening for an unwanted climax.
But the man was weakening, grunting as he pistoned in and out of her, more and more slowly. Simone, overwhelmed with the degradation of submission, began to demand the orgasm for which she had been prepared. In anger and frustration she threw the prisoner from herself and rolled him onto his back. His cock, twitching madly in the air, was red and bobbing and hard as cold steel.
Simone smeared her pussy juice over the warm vibrating shaft before centering herself above the icy rod. She did not care that she was being watched and hooted at from the window. She lowered her body slowly. The lips of her cunt spread apart as she felt them enveloping the swollen glans. Suddenly, she brought down her whole weight and his cock sunk in. She leaned over him, striving for leverage to drive the cock even deeper into her body. She balanced her cunt, moving in its own natural rhythm, as the gaping hole, warm, wet, and wild, made the squishing sound of compression. She flattened her belly muscles as she plowed with her notch up and down the expanding cock. Her cuntlips began to tighten once more in a sudden sexual spasm. Her whole body sucked up, grasping his cock at the root, burying it further and further into her convulsing hole.
The fire of her orgasm ignited at the roof of her abdomen, arching her back painfully, and she cried aloud. "I'm coming!" Her voice, raw and hoarse, repeated, "I'm coming, I'm coming."
And then the prisoner began to come. Hot, thick wads spurted out of the cockhead, exploding into her pussy like an erupting geyser. The lava of his sperm filled her cunt and gushed down, out, leaking in hot slimy waves over the straining cheeks of her ass.
Simone felt herself draining, but with her eyes blurry and her head spinning dizzily, she realized that her body was climaxing again. "Ohhh, God...," she moaned. "Again...! I'm coming again... again!" Her ass bucked and swiveled on his tumescent cock, and she rubbed her groove down hard on his pubic ridge. "I can't... stand it any more... I'm coming again."
Simone did not struggle when they came and carried her, like a sack, to her new residence. A cell. Her mind was still reeling from the jackhammer blows of that cold fuck.
When the guards threw her bruised body heavily on the cot in the cell, she lost consciousness completely, knowing that while she lived she had no choice but to suffer any ignominy, any disgrace that her Nazi captors wished to place upon her.
Chapter Four
Whipped Cream
Simone awoke to the touch of soft fingers stroking her forehead. She opened her eyes to see the face of another woman, not unfriendly, who bent over Simone with a bit of brown paper, wiping away the dirt and sweat from Simone's body.
Seeing that Simone was awake, she placed a soft gentle kiss on Simone's forehead. "I am Deborah Weiss."
Simone saw that the dark-haired woman was pale, slender to the point of being thin, but very beautiful. The almost, papery whiteness of Deborah's flesh contrasted strikingly with her shoulder-length jet black hair, and gave her an appearance of being extremely fragile, perhaps almost translucent.
Simone looked at the rising and falling motion of Deborah's breasts beneath the wrinkled grey prisoner's shirt, and had an almost overwhelming desire to reach out and touch the woman there.
Deborah, apparently detecting the stiff movement of Simone's hand, placed her hand over Simone's and whispered, "Don't do anything but rest, my dear. It will be all right."
"What will they do to me?" Simone rasped in a voice hoarse from screaming.
"You are fortunate. You are blonde. You will undoubtedly become the Hauptmann's favorite. It is seldom they take prisoners other than Jews, unless they are so old they are not fit for the Bordello."
"You mean they keep a brothel here? In the prison?" Simone asked incredulously.
"It is not only that prisoners are available and expendable afterwards," Deborah said, "it is also because we are in the heart of Berlin. On the front soldiers can fraternize with the liberated peoples, but here at home it would not do to have the soldiers soiling the Reich's image by appearing before civilian courts on rape charges. That is one thing about the Nazis, they protect their women," Deborah said with a sneer.
"Why are you here?" Simone asked.
"My brother deserted from the army. Sturmabteilung came to my house, searched it, and arrested me. After they questioned me politely, they found records that my grandmother was a Jew. So I was detained, my property confiscated. The Hauptmann took a fancy to me, and so I was not sent to a concentration camp."
Simone told Deborah briefly about herself and the Belgian Students Union.
"Oh, you didn't tell them about the others yet?" Deborah asked.
Simone shook her head.
"You must. You don't know what it's like here. They can mutilate you until life wouldn't be worth living," Deborah said frantically.
"But I don't, know anyone except my contact." Simone lied.
"He was your lover and you won't betray him," Deborah said knowingly. "Oh, for the number of times I've heard that. Listen. You are a beautiful blonde girl. You can serve the jailers until this war is over and begin a new life. That's what I intend to do. If they asked me to betray my own mother, I'd do it to survive."
Deborah must have noticed the look of disdain on Simone's face, for she continued, "You've been here only one day. You have no idea what does go on here. Do you know what they do to you after they're through ripping you apart? They make soap out of you."
Simone objected acidly to Deborah's dramatic callousness.
"What's so strange? Soap? That's all we are to the Glorious Third Reich. So much raw material that could be used in whichever way would best serve the New Order. Soap. If you can't fuck them any longer then you should serve the Fatherland in another way. Ever wonder how any race could think of land as its father?"
Simone made no response then, but wondered silently how anyone like Deborah could be so spineless as to serve her captors in the Bordello.
Sensing Simone's attitude toward her, Deborah said self-righteously. "And you, my little Aryan princess. You're too good for this, you are thinking. You, the little blonde who played weekend warrior in the underground. Have you never sung the Horst Wessel Lied? Never Deutschland Uber Alles? Have you never slept with a Nazi officer? Never greeted someone 'Seig Heil?' "
Simone put her face down, looking toward the floor. Perhaps she was being too critical of her cellmate. Simone recalled her student friends, most of them Nazis. Drunk. Singing anything that would rouse their wobbly bodies to action. Stimulation if you were drunk and had to go home in the snow or even to the John. Good music to take a leak by. Especially if the room is rocking like a boat and you have to keep the beat or fall on your face and wet the floor.
But still, doing what she had done, and doing what Deborah was promoting, were two very different things, Simone decided. When the guards came for Simone later in the day, she was firm in her determination not to implicate anyone from the Belgian Students Union. And she was too proud, too angry, to seek a merciful alternative in the Bordello.
Naked, Simone was taken to a room where she was thrown to the floor. She looked up to see the Hauptmann looking down at her. His heavy jackboots shone in the light of the single electric lightbulb above his head, which cast a halo around his curly blond hair. The three diamonds of his rank coruscated grandly on his collar.
"You will tell me about your underground comrades, you understand? Good. Names, please." He prodded her naked ribs with his boot.
"I don't know any thing," Simone retorted, a little too firmly, she thought while she spoke.
As she feared, the Hauptmann interpreted her firmness of voice as insubordination, and kicked her shapely large tit. "Swine! Pig!" he yelled at her. His voice was naturally bassy, and when he raised his voice in anger it seemed even deeper and more commanding.
Suddenly her side ached with pain. The Hauptmann had produced a whip which was coming down across her exposed ribs. She felt the stinging lash across her chest and saw that it raised an instant angry welt.
Simone howled like a banshee and rolled away from the lash, her movement exposing her vulnerable cunt. Too late, she tried to bring her knees together. The boot slammed cruelly into her groin and made her double over.
"Please, please, please stop."
Her entreaty was met with a barrage of kicks and stinging lashes. She crawled for the protection of a wall, then toward a corner. Having reached the corner under the continuing rain of blows she realized that she was trapped, with no hope of escape. She tried to scream out the name of Alex-the name of a professor-anybody's name at all, anybody's, but was unable to catch her breath.
"Uhhh, owww!" she begged beneath the toe and heel of the jackboot and the striking slashes of the whip that found every available surface of her skin.
She groveled, trying to hide her face, and found that this only succeeded in revealing her buttocks. She was aware of the blood mingled with the perspiration of her fear. Her cuts were bleeding now, the torn skin that was opened under the savage boot.
There seemed only one way to mitigate the torture.
She forgot her pride. She forgot everything but the pain. She finally managed to get out a few syllables. Names... anybody's name. She screamed. But the blows continued. There was no sign that he even heard. It was as if the Hauptmann was beating her for the pleasure of beating, rather than for the information. Like an animal roused by blood, he put more and more muscle behind the whip arm.
At first Simone was terrified by the whipping. After a while, the surprise and much of the terror dissipated and she was almost getting used to it. And, in the process she discovered not only that the agony was not as insufferable as it had been in the beginning, but that in a perverse way she was actually getting a kind of thrill from, it. It hurt, but not as much as at the start, because the blows were landing on skin already numbed by previous blows and bruised by the jackboot. The welts and cuts were anaesthetized by the searing pain, so that the additional fire of the stinging whip gave a thrill rather than a feeling of pain.
By contrast, the cold of the cement wall and floor gave her another sort of perverse pleasure. Kicks from the booted foot of the stately soldier struck her ribs and back, the cold salved her bruises. Since the first kick at her crotch, when it seemed that she would be forever paralyzed, the Hauptmann had seemingly taken care not to injure her private parts.
But the rest of her body bore the full brunt of the beating: Then he seemed to tire of kicking and instead placed the sole of his boot squarely beneath her. He kicked her backwards, so that she lay on her welt-swollen back. He placed his booted foot firmly on her chest between her breasts, with their unaccountably turgid nipples. She was his prisoner. His slave. To her utter humiliation, he was pressing her down onto the cold floor in order that she recognize that fact.
Simone thought she was experiencing a nightmare. Only in a dream could she experience such total surrender to another. Only in a nightmare could she consider such degradation acceptable and find any redemption in completely surrendering her will to a master.
With the cold cement at her back, she found that she was almost welcoming the less forceful strokes of the whip. His arm must be tiring, she guessed. Her one thought now was to prolong the period of her subjection-the pleasure, for she admitted now in a crazed unstable flash of insight, that she enjoyed what he was doing to her.
She knew now that she wanted to kiss that shiny boot that was pressing her down, to kiss the supreme majesty of that symbol of her insignificance, the shining leather symbol of man's mastery of a woman. She wanted to kiss the symbol and what it symbolized: the officer rightfully raining down blows upon an insubordinating twat of weak femininity.
But the masculine arm was noticeably tiring weakening under its task of subjugating her to his will. She squirmed, trying to stir the strength into his blows. Then she realized that the only way of overcoming the Hauptmann's weakness was to defy him.
Simone spit on his boot.
And she experienced the triumph.
Blows were striking: Cutting. The boot was bruising: Crushing out her air. The heavier the weight of the man's boot on her chest, the more she was suppressed, the more her senses delighted. Every lash thrilled her like a kiss; every blow like a thrust of cockmeat.
She was excited beyond belief, and could see that her nipples were long and red and her areola were puckered with yearning so strong, that she could not hope to control herself any longer. She was crying now with pleasure, sobbing from joy. The joy born of being the fine Hauptmann's slave. Entirely powerless. Humiliated beyond normal endurance. Experiencing a sensation that went to the limits of sensory experience itself.
Each new wound was a source of erotic delight. Her whole tender body was one enveloping erogenous zone. She could not feel any single extremity any longer; she was just a mass of searing nerve endings that dissolved in anonymous unity somewhere in her brain. Somewhere that brain was telling her that her open pussy was beginning to gush clear sticky fluids. Her viscera throbbed in the familiar yet heightened sensation of orgasm. Her master continued to bear down on her with renewed vigor as she climaxed, writhing obscenely, beneath his crushing boot. The orgasm was draining her, like a puddle of liquid, sapping her strength, her awareness. Simone was fainting, she knew, as she felt the unceasing blows on her aroused body. This! This was the way it was meant to be! The lowly subjugated to the ruler.
Simone awoke after her lapse of consciousness. She stirred and found her eyes swollen shut. The lids would not open. With an effort she managed to open one just a crack, sufficient to identify the cell she shared with Deborah. With the racking ache of her frame, Simone remembered the degradation to which she had succumbed.
Now the joy the had felt in the humiliation toward the end of her awareness no longer remained, and she could barely recall, and still less believe, how she could have thought the blows brought pleasure. She must have been completely crazy with the pain, Simone thought. Her mouth was dry, and she realized that her lips and face seemed swollen. She needed water. Simone concentrated first on moving her head. Her whole body was sore and stiff, and every muscle ached. Some hidden fear made her want to check her genitals for mutilation, and she gradually moved one hand down her bruised and welted body to her cunt. It seemed everything was all right, but her fingers were numb and so was her cunt. Everything was partially numb. It was hopeless; she would have to look at herself to be certain. She concentrated on opening both her eyes then.
She heard a whimper. She forced her eyes fully open to see the beautiful waxen beauty of Deborah leaning over her. Lying on the cot with Simone, Deborah let her tears fall on Simone's naked breast, where they persisted in stinging.
Simone put one weak hand forward to reassure her friend, but it fell limply on the brunette's breast where it could be felt beneath Deborah's shirt. Slowly, Simone recalled that her other hand was lying numbly on her own thigh, and moments later that had found the delicate, tender membrane that folded over her clitoris.
Simone was relieved that at least one part of her body retained feeling. Then Simone felt another finger stroking the inside of her thigh. It was Deborah, fascinatedly watching Simone's own fingers rolling her clitoris. Simone saw Deborah's breath quicken, and felt the sudden rise of Deborah's titbud beneath the shirt.
Simone could feel her own breath catch in her dry throat. Her cunt was wet though, and she could feel her legs twitching as if by themselves. Simone strummed her incredibly sensitive clit now.
Deborah was pulling her prison panties down to her knees, grabbing at Simone's wrist impatiently. Simone's hand was drawn to explore the space between her friend's slender columns of thighs. Simone inhaled the musk as her fingers were gripped by Deborah's spasming cunt. Those lips were moving as though controlled by invisible magnets. Deborah's pussy oozed copious syrup down Simone's hand, and Simone smeared the juices down into the hairy asscrack and across the smooth small asscheeks. The little ass was pumping furiously, expanding and contracting in an ever quickening rhythm,
"Oh, I'm going to cum if you don't stop that," Deborah whispered. "Here, let me do something for you." Deborah got up and stripped the prison panties the rest of the way off her legs. Then Deborah got on her knees, straddling Simone's supine figure, and put her lips to Simone's steaming inner cuntlips. Deborah searched with her tongue tip for the little stub of tissue that Simone had recently been pinching to full erection between her fingers. When Deborah located the tiny bud, she fastened her teeth tenderly and gnawed on it gently.
Simone writhed and twisted in ecstasy as Deborah laved the tiny erection, momentarily dipping that tongue down in Simone's honey-sweet sexhole. Deborah ran her sweating palms along the insides of Simone's thighs as her legs rocked gently to the rhythm. Deborah ran her tongue along the sides of the large hairy labia and around the smooth swellings of Simone's ass. Deborah's tongue paused at the entrance to the blonde's asshole, and Simone begged her in a soft whisper, "Do me there, honey... please."
Deborah probed the tight puckered opening with the tip of her tongue, spreading the welt-swollen legs even further apart in an attempt to gain entrance. Deborah held her tongue there for a time, while she reached up and eased Simone's legs backward against those cut and bruised breasts. Suddenly, the hole admitted Deborah's tongue, and Deborah skewered it in as deep as she could. Simone reacted with several spasms of impending climax, and Deborah rammed her nose hard into the crotch, rubbing the sore asscheeks, twisting them and gouging the lash marks on them. Deborah's chin was lodged tightly under Simone's pubic bone, and Simone involuntarily began pumping down wildly, thrashing her young hips about and squeezing her asscheeks in the throes of frenzied ecstasy. Deborah pistoned her tongue in and out of the little asshole with rapid strokes, and Simone began trembling with an overpowering orgasm. Simone's stiff and aching back arched up, curling high, so that she rested only on her torn neck, her swollen raw shoulder blades, and her flayed, bleeding shoulders. Simone's ass rotated nonetheless in big semicircles as she did something which she would have thought impossible before. In gratitude, Simone brought her face up to kiss Deborah's buttocks. Simone's tongue probed strangely and deeply into her friend's humid cunt.
Simone's tongue parted the greasy coral folds in torrid, demanding ways, coming to rest on the very point of Deborah's cunt. Simone greedily pulled Deborah's knees apart, spreading her legs farther and farther, exposing the brunette's lush membranes to the rasping file edge of her tongue. Simone's tongue went everywhere. It went in wide swaths across the outsides of Deborah's richly hair-crowned labia. It went around, and momentarily into, the orgasmically convulsing hole of Deborah's cunt. Simone placed one fingertip on the tight anal ring, and Deborah tried desperately to crawl away. But Simone, blind with the passion of her own impending orgasm, mercilessly drilled her finger through the ring of anal muscle guarding Deborah's rear entrance.
Simone's legs, which were weak and powerless from the Hauptmann's beating just a moment ago, now clamped around Deborah's head. Up and down, up and down, Simone's legs twitched in a futile effort to drive the brunette's head right up inside her pussy. Simone could feel her buttocks expanding and contracting at an ever increasing frequency.
Finally the rhythm exploded in a shower of sparks that left both women limp.
But the limpness lasted only a few hours.
The sex seemed to invigorate Simone, and. combined with the careful attention to her cuts and bruises which Deborah administered with cool water; Simone was up and about within three days. At least, it felt to Simone that three days had passed, as they had been served three meals of gruel. No one talked to the prisoners, and they were unable to see out of the brick walled cell with its steel door. But they would occasionally look up to see the round peephole of the door open while a matron watched them from the corridor.
Six or eight times a matron came for Deborah, and she was gone for up to an hour. Deborah would never talk to Simone about these interludes at the Bordello, however.
On the fourth day two matrons entered the cell and wordlessly took both women out. They went in different directions, and Simone's sudden realization that she was out of the familiar protection of her cell made her freeze with apprehension. Were they to be tortured? Gassed? One does not live in Germany without hearing rumors. Rumors somehow take on a different certitude when one is a prisoner without access to the outside world, Simone realized.
Simone was taken to a room where she was told to put on clothes which rested on a wooden table. Slightly sweat-stained and soiled, as though worn by someone before her, there were sheer black nylons, bra, and panties. They were a good, but not perfect fit. When she had finished dressing, she was wearing a black dress with a tiny pink floral print. It was sleeveless, with a low neckline. The material was gathered in front from neckline to midriff, and had a little bow behind at the waist. The dress hung to just below the knees m the current fashion.
There was no mirror, but Simone knew that she looked good. Was this her introduction to the Bordello? She doubted it. Was this how she would be handled? Had she indeed convinced them that she knew nothing about the underground? Was she to be released?
The Hauptmann entered the room a short while later and handed her a whip. "Come," he said briskly. Don't waste my time standing around and gawking."
He led her to another room where Deborah, now nude, lay shuddering in painful spasms beneath the whip of a matron. "Oh!" Simone yelled "Stop! Don't you see you're hurting her?"
The matron turned at the admonition and raised her whip as if to strike Simone. But on some signal from the Hauptmann the matron turned and left the room.
Deborah lay cowering, her back bloody and flayed from the whipping. She turned to look up at Simone, and the eyes bore none of their former friendliness. The eyes were frightened, contemptuous, pleading all at once, and it made Simone bend to touch her in sympathy.
A word from the Hauptmann, now Simone's master, was all that stopped Simone.
"Get her up," the Hauptmann grunted.
"Here," Simone urged Deborah, holding out her hands to the naked brunette.
"No'" thundered the Nazi. "That's why you were given a whip!"
Simone turned to took at the officer in disbelief.
"I don't want to have to use my whip on your pretty face again. Now do it," the Hauptmann ordered.
Simone could see no alternative as the Nazi flicked the end of his whip tentatively into the palm of his hand. It was either beat Deborah, or be beaten. Simone certainly did not want to suffer another beating. On the other hand, she had only one person now that she could turn to for solace, and that was Deborah.
"Your alternative," the Hauptmann reminded Simone, "is to tell me all you know about the Belgian Students Union. If you do that, we can all sit down together and be civil, you understand?" The Nazi smirked.
A tear rolled down Simone's cheek. A large, hot tear. It was impossible to make such a choice. If she betrayed even one of her underground contacts, the Hauptmann would demand more information from her. Eventually, she might tell all she knew but they would still want more names. It would come back to the same standoff eventually. Simone was trapped. In the meantime everything was being done that was humanly possible to strip Simone of her dignity and self-respect. The Hauptmann was softening her, Simone realized, for the acquiescence; for the final betrayal of all that Simone held dear and sacred. But what was it that Deborah had told her? That Deborah would betray her own mother if it enabled her to survive to the end of the war? The only thing that mattered was that, survival. On the Nazi's terms: On the devil's terms. Simply survive.
Simone turned from her temporary master and touched her friend Deborah with her whip. It was not a heavy blow, but it was symbolic. It told them both, her master and her-yes she admitted unconsciously-her lover, that she had made a decision. An irrevocable one.
Deborah struggled clumsily, stiffly, to her feet, using the wall for leverage. Only minutes ago Deborah had been normal, healthy, and alert. Now her eyes were glassy, with a look of vacant pain.
"Go on, use the whip!" the Hauptmann commanded. And Simone did so. Lightly at first, experimentally. Deborah was shaking now, the strokes were effective.
"Drive the Jew bitch into the hallway!" their master ordered.
Deborah wobbled, as if trying too hard to comply before Simone slashed Deborah's beautiful white skin and left another ugly red welt. But it eventually became evident to Simone that Deborah was hanging back and stalling much more than her injuries necessitated. Simone had choice but to strike her friend, and Deborah must have realized that. In Deborah's position, Simone would be moving quickly to avoid the inevitable beating. Why was Deborah being so obstinately slow? Simone struck Deborah a hit harder, trying to make Deborah realize the position the two of them were in.
The Hauptmann cracked his own whip angrily then. "You are here to whip that Jew-bitch, not to coddle her. I don't give a damn whether she is your lesbian love or your twin sister... I have given you an order to whip the wench and you will do so. You understand?" he punctuated the question with his own whip upon Simone's silk-clad ass. Simone jumped in surprise and pain, then said to Deborah, "Hurry along. Hurry up!"
Another crack of the Hauptmann's whip stung more effectively yet, and, unable to hurry Deborah in any other way, Simone applied her own whip more fiercely. Simone watched as the whip stung the nude brunette beneath the breast, the whip reaching around Deborah's smooth belly and snapping at the cleft of her dark bushy cunt. Simone watched Deborah wince, and saw, comprehending now, the took of sensual joy which Deborah seemed to show when the whip stung.
The nude girl shuffled, her bare feet leaving moist footprints on the cement floor. Tentatively, but with almost a sense of achievement. Simone let the whip flick harder, and strike the more vulnerable places of Deborah's body. Gradually, as the trio moved into the corridor, Simone noticed how much satisfaction she was getting from doing this. It was a rewarding feeling, this playing at master. She liked the pliable resiliency of the whip handle when she swung it. If Simone held the right amount of detachment from the pain Deborah was suffering, she could enjoy whipping her friend with the hurtful lash. Nothing was quite like the exercise of power one felt at making another human being surrender to your will and suffer. The welts on Deborah's sides and breasts were ample testimony to the cruelty with which Simone applied herself to her task. For almost without realizing it, Simone had begun to hit Deborah harder and harder. Simone was becoming sexually excited at the writhing movements her friend made under her lash. Simone remembered what Deborah was like in bed, when they explored each other's bodies so completely. She remembered what Deborah did to ease her wounds, and the tears of sympathy Deborah shed for her. Now, that pale, paper thin flesh was being torn open to bleed, and the lovely pleading dark eyes were filled with tears of a different kind. Tears of suffering and anguish, but also of gratitude for that suffering.
The brunette wobbled, fell. Simone applied the whip more firmly, and the torn young woman struggled to her knees and inched forward, leaving huge splatters of blood and sweat that dropped, at intervals, from her body. Simone's arm tired. She wondered how poor Deborah could tolerate the beating. Yet the nude woman struggled gamely forward, until with a sigh, she fell flat on her face.
"UP, up!" Simone was shouting in a frenzy. Simone lusted to watch the pale pitiful slip of a girl inch painfully forward once again. Simone struck the girl repeatedly, until the flesh clung to the end of the whip and blood splattered up onto Simone's dress. Only then did the Hauptmann grab Simone's wrist and wrench the whip from her trembling hand.
Simone looked at her hand. It was a bloodless white from the pressure she had been exerting on the whip. It trembled from the frantic arousal she felt. She only gradually descended from her hyper-excitable state, to slump, feeling nauseated, against the brick wall.
"Having a good time, are you?" the Hauptmann spat at her. "For that, this!" he struck her across the face with the whip. Simone winced, and was struck again. Then the blows were falling everywhere, over her tits, against her legs. The dress was flying about her knees with the rain of blows, the pink flowers on the border looking like a field on a windy day.
Simone bent under the blows. The whip touched her breast again and she could feel the nipple harden as he struck it beneath the cloth of her clothing. She screamed in momentary pain, and he struck her across the month with the whip handle.
Chapter Five
Target Practice
"Unbutton your dress," he ordered. She did, and he roughly tore the bodice down to the waist, exposing her bra cupped tit. With a leer, the Hauptmann teased one long hard nipple out of its cup. "I'm going to eat you, slut." he said. "Your pussy should be nice and sweaty from your working so hard."
Simone looked surreptitiously toward the apparently unconscious Deborah, then at the doors. The doors were closed, but the, possibility of being discovered in the corridor doing such a despicable thing frightened her. The Hauptmann reached for her other wrist, pulling it down to where his cock throbbed, big and hard, where he had slipped it from his trousers.
She reluctantly wrapped her fingers around the thick, throbbing shaft, squeezing until he removed his hand. Her hand moved up and down, stroking from the base of the shaft to the swollen, pulsing tip She savored the experiences of subjugation he had given her, and now, after so long without sex with a man, the memory of what he had done to her with his boot and his whip had a powerful effect on her.
Now he bent forward and moved his hand down to the slope of her thigh. Simone parted her legs and his fingers probed the sensitive tissues just inside the panty leg band. Simone could hear the whispering crunch of her own pubic hair as his probing fingers pressed it down. He probed at the slit of her cunt.
She slipped her panties down with her free hand. His hand returned to the softness of her thigh as she leaned against the wall, legs apart, offering her cunt to him. His hands were hot and sticky now with the juices of her pussy, his hands trailed the moisture over the smooth softness of her buttocks, then returned to her naked cunt.
Sliding his fingers up and down the slick valley between the lips, he touched her clit. "Oh, yes, yes...," she moaned. Startled by the sound of her own voice she twisted suddenly to look at the door.
It was still shut.
He played with the bud for a moment, rolling it, caressing it, pushing the stem down into its pocket of damp membranes. She humped up and down, trying to impale herself on the hard probe of his fingers. She squirmed, tightening her fingers around his cock.
He ran his hand back and forth over her tits, pinching the protruding nipples. His fingers dug into the softness of the gland. She moaned. Unclasping the strap behind, he chewed down on the hard nub pursing his lips, and sucking it up into the hollow of his mouth. His teeth slid sensuously back and forth, and the tongue-tip swiped across the top of the nipple. He inched slowly down, stroking with his mouth the soft underside of her mound. With his left hand he lifted her tit, pulling it away from her chest, and slid his tongue under, licking at the sweaty pocket of her flesh. She squirmed in response, and her and her fingers slipped from his ready cock. His tongue dipped down to her waist.
She looked once more, furtively, toward the door, then lifted her dress high up around her middle.
His tongue returned to her belly, dipping wetly into her navel. She moaned, spreading her thighs more widely.
He licked the fringes of her hairy cunt then, curling and pushing his tongue between the lips. As he licked her cunt, Simone shivered, lifting her ass to give him better access. Her love button throbbed.
She moaned as she undulated and pushed her cunt down on his chin. His tongue strokes were short and hard, beginning at the base of her hooded bud and licking up and over it. She was trembling with pleasure. Her pussy lips were fluttering in quivering spasms when he shoved his tongue in hard. It went deep into her body then, and the canal of her cunt closed tightly around the invading tongue like a fist.
She screwed her cunt onto his mouth, moving her hips forward and turning, jumping and moaning as if electricity were rushing into her sexhole. Still his tongue flipped from side to side and dashed the walls of her cunt.
Simone grasped her own tits and began to pinch and massage them with clawed hands.
The Hauptmann brought his left hand up between her sensitive tender thighs, and hooked his fingertips into the slit of her lips, prying them apart so that his face was even more tightly jammed into her crotch. He wriggled his head as he ground the ridge of his nose into her notch.
She rocked back and forth, humping her ass and cunt into his mouth. She tried to pull her tits right up into her mouth, licking desperately with her tongue waving in the air. When she could not reach her tits she pressed her ass downward, crushing her cunt down on his face.
His tongue stiffened inside her body, extending an unbelievably long way up through the resisting layers of her excited flesh. He pulled back, then pushed in, fucking her with his tongue.
Just when it seemed she could stand it no longer, and was about to come, he moved his tongue into the crack of her ass. She jumped from the sharp edge of the new pleasure. He rolled his tongue, spreading the soft ass cheeks apart. Her cunt squished emptily as the gaping hole opened and closed. His saliva rolled down her statuesque thighs. He groveled into her soft buttocks with his chin, and she felt the hole of her anus open. He stabbed it with his tongue, hard and deep. She could feel the sphincter resisting, tightening on the driving tongue. He was straining tightly against her unyielding flesh, the tip of the tongue auguring like a knife blade.
Then the ring of constricting muscles that guarded her asshole gave way. She felt the anus opening under the slithering force of the tongue that snaked all the way up into her rectum. It drilled straight in, deep inside her quivering intestines. He ground his face into her, his tongue deep inside as it would go. It completely filled her tight quivering rear passage. Simone felt all her muscles twitch. She ground her hips around, pushing her ass down onto his face, trying to force the tongue deeper into her body. Spastically, she rode the Hauptmann's whole face.
He jerked his tongue away.
Her legs stiffened in delirium.
Then his tongue violated her wet melting pussy. He teased her asshole yet with a finger. But he was shoving his tongue into her grasping hungry cunt, plunging it again and again as if it were a cock. His tongue was like a rasping file against her soft loop of flesh, and she was dizzy with the pleasure.
The wave of an intense orgasm spread from his tongue to her cuntbarrel to her spine as her body climbed into the air after the soaring climax. She stifled a scream.
Her thighs were trembling and her cunt was throbbing. Simone sagged to the floor. The Hauptmann went away and shortly two matrons came for the limp body of Deborah. Simone was ignored for almost half an hour when the two matrons with blue skirts and bleached white blouses came for her and made her resume her prison garb. They escorted her back to the cell she shared with Deborah.
The embarrassment of Simone's inexplicable cruelty toward Deborah made Simone reluctant to go back. But with a certainty, Simone knew that Deborah had wanted that beating, and had goaded Simone for it.
When the matrons flung Simone into her cell, Deborah was laying on her cot, spread-eagled with heavy rope. Her entire body was as red as a tomato from the beating Simone had given her, and the Hauptmann was fucking her, The Hauptmann, whom, Simone remembered, had not come when he brought Simone off, was getting his balls off inside the brunette. The spectacle was angering. To think the master would excite himself with her, Simone, and then pump that slut Deborah.
Simone, no less pretty had not been fucked by the Hauptmann.
It wan a put-down. A clear statement of what the Hauptmann, her master, thought of her. Simone was there to be used and abused, at anyone's discretion. There would be no lasting liaison. The Hauptmann, whose name she did not even know, was showing Simone by fucking Deborah that the temporary power he loaned Simone by giving her the whip, was not the result of trust or affection, but of expedience. By fucking the comatose form of Deborah, he was showing Simone that he preferred a half-dead invalid to her. The rage welled up inside Simone, but she was powerless to cope with it. She was doubly angered that she should be evaluating herself so completely on the attitude of her new master. She felt like a little girl whose daddy was making a big fuss over the neighbor girl who always teased his daughter.
While watching the Hauptmann fuck the unconscious woman, and without really thinking what she was doing, Simone reached under the waistband of her prison panties. Her hand dipped into her gash and came away wet. She tenderly parted the humid folds of her cunt and searched for the little knob of flesh that was tingling. Grabbing it lightly, she shivered and began rubbing it in strumming motions.
As Simone watched the Hauptmann fuck, she became aware of the hot tightness of her restrictive clothing. In a moment she had her panties down around her knees, and now her finger worked her clitoris passionately. As the Hauptmann on the cot started to come inside Deborah's bruised and flayed body, the torrid administrations to her clit increased. She thrust her pubes firmly against the palm of her hand, inserting her finger up to the knuckle.
The officer's long cock was jabbing Deborah's pussy faster and faster. Simone screwed her fingers around inside her velvety vagina, hooked her fingers, and hunched her body again and again. She barely managed to stifle her moans of pleasure. Her thumb rolled around the edge of her clit and she could feel the hot sweat mix with the oils pouring out onto her pistoning hand.
Now Simone smeared her slimy hand over her mons, matting down her pubic hair, and stroking the insides of her groin. She played with her clit, rolling, pinching, and caressing the exquisitely sensitive bulb and pushing it back and forth into its folds.
The pair on the cot were retching and squirming in the throes of the Hauptmann's orgasm-his thick long purple-veined ramrod flashing in and out of the brunette's coral-lipped cunt. The Nazi's ass bucked and reared as Simone stared from the doorway. His hairy ass cheeks were expanding and filling, expanding and filling, and his balls were crammed up tight and small against the root of his shaft.
Simone's own thighs opened and closed rhythmically as she too humped herself up and down and to and fro, lifting her hips high and squeezing her ass cheeks together. Almost without her thinking about it, her other hand was under her shirt, inside her bra. She ripped the strapped cups off her breasts and touched her nipples. They were small and hard Her fingers gouged the glands, sinking into their young softness. She dug at the hard nubs of nipple with her fingernails, rolling them in the same rhythm as she rolled her clit.
The Hauptmann fucking in front of her went over the top then, the bleeding body of Deborah lying inert as if dead.
Simone's whole body shuddered, sending her hand deep into her box. Three fingers slipped back through the grasping opening guarded by the hungry sphincter. She rubbed the sides of her clit-stem with her thumb, and tried to work her little finger into the tiny puckered rear opening.
The tight opening suddenly admitted her finger, and she drove it mercilessly up into herself. She began twisting and riveting, not caring what happened to her now. Her cunt went into spasm after spasm that closed around her fingers with sucking noises, and she could feel her abdomen flatten under the suction.
She stabbed herself again and again with her fingers, with ever shorter and deeper strokes, to match the rhythm of her cuntal spasms. She thrust her legs wider apart, as far as she could, and was unable to stifle the scream that accompanied her pent-up orgasm.
The Hauptmann noticed her then. He dressed leisurely, but as he left the cell he spat contemptuously at Simone. "You like playing with yourself eh? Perhaps we can find a dog for you to play with." He grunted with some perverse satisfaction at Simone's expression. Simone knew what those dogs the Nazis kept for manhunts could do.
The Hauptmann left the room and slammed the door heavily behind him, throwing the bolts with renewed vigor. Simone immediately went to Deborah's side and began undoing the bonds. Deborah did not open her eyes, but curled up into the fetal position. Simone wanted to wipe the wounds with cold water, but was afraid to touch the angry, weeping skin. It would be many days before Deborah would be normal, Simone reflected.
Simone sat helplessly watching the brunette lay on her cot, barely breathing in her sleep, occasionally awakening with a startled cry which would catch pitifully in her throat.
It took Simone herself a long time to fall asleep that night. Was Deborah still breathing? Simone listened. Was it good for Deborah to be still breathing? Would she remember any of this tomorrow?
The worst time was when Deborah awakened during the night to go to the bathroom.
"Umf-heer-lall-mitsoak." Deborah said, unable to form words, and also unable to realize that she was not forming words.
Seeing that she was not understood, Deborah gesticulated wildly. "Faf-lil-rumm-heekle-gar!"
Simone tried to soothe Deborah at these times, but just her touch seemed to upset Deborah then.
As Simone guided Deborah to the commode in the corner of their cell, Simone suddenly felt her bare feet step into water on the floor. "Hurry," Simone insisted sleepily.
"It's only five drops." Deborah mumbled, suddenly very clearly.
Then Simone pushed Deborah to walk faster and Deborah fell.
During the day Deborah's speech improved, but her ability to think of words was poor. "What good are you if you cannot take care of my needs?" Deborah would say indignantly more often, in response to Simone's attempts to help her find the right word.
"You don't know what it's like to be dependent," Deborah said without facial expression on her whip-bruised features. "Everything is difficult when you stand before it, until you can say it."
"Well, that happens to me too," Simone said soothingly. "I forget things I'm about to say."
Another night, another day. Deborah seemed to be getting worse, not better. Three days after the brutal beating several guards came and dragged the two women to a great auditorium. The seats were empty, but a moving picture camera was standing before a scaffold.
Simone was relieved momentarily when she saw that it was Deborah who was being dragged toward the scaffold, and not herself. Deborah seemed hardly aware of what was happening to her, and Simone was certain that Deborah would be spared the pain of remembering this episode.
Barbed wire was wound on the limp brunette's arms and wrists to hold her erect. Then her legs were folded up beneath her and her ankles bound just under her buttocks, her knees spread wide.
The Hauptmann strode into the room wearing a silk dressing gown and signaled for the cameraman to begin filming. The Hauptmann hastily divested the gown and approached the semi-conscious girl on the scaffold with a menacing erection. He fucked right up into her gaping pussy, and Simone could see the pink coral membranes of her cunt with each savage withdrawal of the fucktool. It made Simone want to wince in sympathy for the limp girl who hung there, subject to these obscene abuses. Simone felt a tingling high inside her own cunt, and struggled to suppress it. She knew that if she showed any sign of sexuality the guards would probably fuck her, too. Rapidly, she clenched her thighs together to stop the feeling that rose within her, but the effort only caused the juices to pour out from between her hot little cuntlips.
The brunette on the scaffold was being fucked so vigorously that the scaffold shook with the thrusts of the Nazi officer. The girls head lolled limply as the tool began moving faster.
But the eyes were open, as if Deborah were watching the man who fucked her shamelessly. The Hauptmann was emptying his balls into Deborah when the cameraman moved in for a close-up. Simone felt queasy and weak from watching her friend squirm, her face beginning to reflect combined agony and ecstasy.
The next guard that stepped up to Deborah was more interested in wrenching and biting at the helpless girl's tits. The two mammaries, which stood out in easy accessibility, bobbed and danced beneath the lustful attentions of the guard. Deborah's head jerked, sending her long, matted hair around her head like a dark halo. Deborah's captive legs twitched violently, and the skin was torn by the cruel barbed wire which secured them.
When the guard entered her feminine portals with his ramrod prick and quickly came, Deborah moaned harshly. The brunette was soon shrieking as the guard's calloused fingers tightened on her tits. He rammed her gaping cunt, until he was completely dry. When his prick dropped out of her, flaccid and spent, another guard stepped up.
The third man ran his ready cock in and out viciously so that the entire scaffold shook. When this man came, Simone could see his balls jump against Deborah's upper thighs with each discharge of sperm.
Simone could only remember the first three men distinctly. The remainder of them merged together and she lost count after five.
Soon after the suspended brunette lost consciousness the scaffold was tilted to horizontal, so that Deborah's vertical pussy slit was aimed directly at the men in the room. The abused little hole seeped with the jism of her countless ravishers, the tender pink labia seemed to Simone to even twitch weakly.
With her legs splayed, Deborah's cunt made a perfect target. The juices of Simone's own cunt oozed shamefully now as she looked at her sister prisoner's complete debasement.
Someone brought a small torch into the room and singed off the black pussy hair, making the brunette return to consciousness with a weak scream, and filling the room with the stench of burnt hair.
The perfect target was being paced off, and a bow and arrow appeared in the Hauptmann's hands. After carefully sighting Deborah's cunt, he let go a feathered shaft which abruptly lodged in its target with a twanging sound.
There was a flutter of polite applause.
The tortured woman regained consciousness to scream painfully once more. The Hauptmann stepped forward and plucked his arrow from the thrashing fundament of the poor girl. It came away with a sucking sound.
Simone could barely stand the gory display, but she was also aware that she was surreptitiously rubbing her thighs together, squirming on the stool she sat on, as her whole ass became warm with her cuntal slop. The gory spectacle was exciting Simone beyond anything she had ever seen before. Simone imagined the feeling of the arrow's penetration, and when a second man discharged his bow the arrow penetrated Deborah's cunt with a whoosh. The sight and sound of that lovely pussy accepting the cruel arrow made Simone come. She could visualize the arrowhead going deep, guided by the cuntlips to the rubbery opening to the womb at the far end of the vagina. Her body was racked again and again as Simone heard the applause from the men in the room being drowned out by an agonized scream.
The scene was repeated several more times, each time the victim's scream was more subdued. And when it was heard no more, Deborah was cut loose from the barbed wire and rolled onto a medical cart. A prison trustee took the brunette's pulse and announced that she was dead.
"I noticed you enjoying our little show," the Hauptmann was saying to Simone, who sat dazed and trembling from her orgasm as well as from the news of her friend's death. "Come with us and see the autopsy, I'm sure you will find it educational."
Morbidly curious, Simone followed the medical cart with Deborah's body and stood silently in the shadows as the pathologist sawed off the top of Deborah's head, pulled out the brain, weighed it, selected some bits of tissue from it, and threw the rest of it in the waste can at the head of the dissection table. Twenty years of life lost. Twenty years of knowledge. Twenty years of experience. And Simone had helped this happen. A part of herself had even enjoyed watching this happen.
But Simone also knew the Nazi's message of her involvement with the torture and execution of Deborah. Simone had, pointedly, not been asked any information about the Belgian Students Union since before she had been made to whip Deborah, three days past.
The Nazis could be patient: They held all of the advantages.
They would ask her again soon, Simone was certain.
She hoped it would not take her as long to die as it had Deborah.
Simone could see now the Nazi's entire plan. She would first be degraded. Then dressed up and allowed to act the part of a master. The consequences would be dramatically brought home to her with the death of her victim. The final remnants of her pride would be destroyed by a carefully engineered feeling of guilt.
While she recognized the truth of the fact that she had beaten Deborah severely, it was only after Simone had undergone similar treatment herself. And the whip was put in her hand with the clear statement that if she did not beat Deborah she herself would be beaten. In a way. Deborah had taught her the strategy of survival at any cost
Surviving till the war ended. It had not worked for Deborah, but it was April now. The previous month there was word that the Rhine had been crossed. That faithful river which had brooked no hostile troops since Roman legions navigated its waters. The war was ending, barring the use of some new secret weapon. With the end of the war would come release, eventually normalcy. In the meantime, there must be no guilt, nor fear. They were counterproductive. Only compliance-and survival would be Simone's bywords.
The plan was essentially one of delay. Buying time by doing whatever her present masters ask. Making any statement, doing any act. She could rectify things after the war. But only if she lived.
It was with these thoughts that Simone was dragged off by matrons and returned to her cell.
Simone was still in the twilight zone of a fitful sleep the next morning when she began to realize that she had slept all night, not merely a couple of hours as she had when Deborah was still alive and keeping her awake with groans and cries. Simone heard the cell door close heavily, and opened one sleepy eye to see an ordinary guard walking toward her. She lay naked on top of the bed, and her further efforts to cover herself were in vain.
The guard wordlessly lay down along side her. Nibbling carefully at her nipple, he ran his hand down over and around her firm buttocks. She wanted to protest. The guard was fat, unappealing, and cumbersome in his movements.
Then he stood and quickly undressed in front of her. As soon as she saw his huge thick cock, she spread her legs obediently. After all, she considered, she had no alternative. She might as well try to make as pleasant as possible.
Soon she was writhing and moaning with anticipation as (he fat guard played with her, touching an erogenous nerve plexus here and there. She rubbed her thumb over the small slit at the end of his cock, and a slippery cream began to pour out. She looked down and saw that his cock was red and engorged with blood, and her fingers were becoming wet and sticky as they massaged it.
The guard fingered her navel as he rubbed her abdomen.
Her hand left his glans and went down the length of his cock to his hairy sac. She caressed his balls and twisted her fingers among his curly pubic hairs.
Once or twice he deftly slipped his hand down between her legs, but only to run quickly over her outer folds of skin. He caressed her ass cheeks, and pinched her titbuds between his teeth.
She melted in to his arms as she rolled over to face him, her breath torrid as she fucked her tongue to his ear.
She felt his prick in her hand quiver, but still he held back.
He was now carefully exploring with one finger the tiny crease between her labia. She inhaled a short gasp and pleaded with a groan. "Ohhh, stick it into me."
The fat guard gently spread her labia with two fingers while he dipped another finger into her steaming gash. He stroked gently the stem of her clit, and she could feel it grow hard and big under his insistent pressure. She was still holding his balls as he did these pleasurable things to her clitoris He searched a little deeper with his finger, and hooked it under her pubic bone, at the very edge of her cunt. He worked it back and forth and from side to side as she laved his ear with her tongue.
Soon his finger was into her up to the knuckle, and she could feel him reaming the ready slick walls of her box. With each stroke she could feel the contractions of her muscles, and she knew she would be ready when that gigantic cock entered her.
The guard got up abruptly, and, turning his back to her, spread his legs wide. He shoved his face into her pussy at the same time he pushed his huge meaty cock against her face. In the sixty-nine position of inverted love, he rubbed his chin vigorously against her pubic ridge and lapped deep within her with his tongue. Simone could hear the slurping of her juices squishing as her muscles contracted inside of her. After a short time she grasped his cock and pulled it greedily into her mouth. He gasped, and sucked her harder as her moist lips enveloped his cockhead, then, inch by inch, the remainder of the stiff shaft.
She could hear and feel his breath as he exhaled great humid lungfuls of hot air into her vagina. She sucked at intervals, her mouth sliding up and down like a rollercoaster on his cock, in rhythm with his tongue inside her box.
He lifted her legs back and tucked them up under his arms. His fat, fleshy hands grasped her tender buttocks and he spread open her cheeks. His tongue traced a wet line of her sex lava from her slit down the crack of her ass into her ass hole. His tongue throbbed at the anal sphincter.
"Do it there, do it to me there," Simone pleaded as his tongue went around the tight opening. From being an anal virgin just a short, week ago, she realized, she had come to enjoy it deliriously.
He got up and pulled her off the bed. He made her kneel on the floor, her face on the cot, as he spread her knees wide apart and pulled her ass cheeks still wider apart. He poked her asshole with his massive cockflesh. After a few moments, he still could not force past the tight puckered ring of muscle guarding her rectum. The guard, frustrated, struck her viciously.
Simone was surprised with the ease with which his spike dipped into her bowels then. The blow made her gasp with pain, and the distraction was sufficient for her sphincter to relax.
The guard began pumping in and out, while Simone worked her ass muscles, her back muscles, and her abdomen. Each time his testicles bumped up against her labia, she whimpered from the pain of his long shaft driving up to the root into her intestines. And he was increasing his rhythm to a pace she had not thought possible.
Then he reached around under her and began stuffing his fat fleshy fingers into her drooling cunt. Getting four in, he twisted them and he jerked them, in and out, in time with his cock. She squirmed and worked her ass cheeks until the familiar sensations of an impending orgasm stiffened her spine. She whimpered in a distorted half sob that was muffled in the bedclothes, "I'm cumming... cumming... cuummiiinnngggh."
She arched her back. Her ass contracted furiously.
He started coming then, too. He yanked his hand in and out of her cunt as he exploded with the heat of a volcano, cramming wads and wads of thick jism into her ass. And each thrust went in further than the one before it. Each spasm sent more and more waves of nerve tingling delight through her body. Still he held her tightly against the mattress as he pumped more come into her asshole.
Finally she felt it coming out the sides of her anus and running down her legs. As she felt him get limp inside her, she continued to work her ass cheeks, listening now to the lascivious slurpy sounds as she moved.
His gigantic cock was flaccid, but still big. It slipped out of her asshole under her persistent squeeze and lay quietly between her large labial folds.
He stuffed his semi-flaccid cock into her cunt and she greedily started milking it. It felt so good to feel him grow inside of her that way, that she was soon aroused and fully ready to come again. Her cunt sucked him into her as she humped, the firm muscles of her ass expanding and contracting as she fucked herself back and forth over his stiffening large prick.
He grasped the crests of her hip bones and pulled her to him, penetrating to the very bottom of her pussy, and forcing his now hard cock tight against the end of her womb. She squeezed his balls where they lay against her thighs, enjoying the hairy wrinkled skin where it touched the tender skin of her notch.
She gyrated frantically, supporting the top half of her body on the cot and the bottom half on the tips of her toes. They came then, together, with all the power and speed of spontaneity, their muscles contracting as if some neural connection synchronized their two bodies. She felt herself losing control, first of her extremities, and then of her whole body as her spine seemed to melt and great gobs of jism spewed out from his balls, through the tube at the underside of his huge stiff cock, and up and out to the very depths of her pussy.
With each spurt of cum she squealed softly. When it was over, he fell panting on top of her sweating body. She felt a pang of regret that it was over when his cock dropped away with a soft pulpy sound.
Before the guard had dressed and left the cell, the Hauptmann entered. He began talking in a general way to Simone, but ended by hinting that the prison Bordello would be a much safer position in the hierarchy of the prison for Simone.
"Deborah was a member of the prison Bordello?" Simone ventured.
"She had the misfortune of being beaten by a fellow prisoner," the Hauptmann looked at Simone speculatively. "I believe you would like to make a statement to me now, wouldn't you?"
"I tell you I know nothing. I am innocent. Please!" she sobbed.
The Hauptmann only sighed, and motioned to the fat guard to bring Simone and follow him.
She was taken to a large storage room. There, she was stretched into a bent position in which her wrists could be handcuffed to her ankles. In this position her knees were squashing against her tits, but they still managed to force a riot stick under her bent knees and over the insides of her elbows. A cord was drawn behind under her armpits and around her back, and then attached to the middle of the nightstick between her knees. Another rope was slung from a pulley in the ceiling and attached to this central cord so that her body could be suspended by the rope under her shoulders. In this doubled-up dependent position her cunt and ass hung vulnerably downward.
Simone knew that in the position in which she was strapped, her soft slippery cuntlips were ready and pink between the white orbs of her ass cheeks. She had some idea of how such a sight would affect an ordinary man, and these Nazis were experts at sexual aggressiveness. Simone had never been turned on like this before, and she could imagine how it would feel to have an incredibly moist tongue licking her body as she hung there; licking her ankles, her legs, her thighs, her buttocks. Her suspended weight made her thighs press her breasts flat, and this made the taut nipples harden with anticipation.
Someone outside of Simone's field of restricted vision was hoisting her into the air. Her breasts were squeezed together by the rope under her armpits and the pressure under her knees. The handcuffs bit into the flesh of her ankles and wrists as her body weight was transferred to the rope.
Her body swung, disorienting her because she could only move her neck a few centimeters to either side. She knew she was swinging and rotating, and had no idea whether she was meters above the floor, about to crash down, or merely a centimeter away from safe contact.
Chapter Six
Suspended Animation
The rope transmitted the motion of the pulley overhead. It felt like Simone's arms were being pulled from their sockets. Pain coursed across her chest from the constriction of the ropes. She way uncertain whether she could breathe in the trussed-up position, and, combined with that, was the queasy feeling she got from the swinging and twisting of the suspension rope.
With difficulty, Simone stretched her neck to peer toward the floor. Just a few feet below her was the sadistic Hauptmann, lying on his back on the floor, his erect cockmeat waving up at her. The unseen manipulator of the ropes was towering her so that, Simone came down until she was just touching the glans of the Hauptmann. The Hauptmann was moving his hips up and down, pushing the prick up against her widely splayed asscheeks. Simone knew that she had never been so exposed in all of her life. Her entire pubic area was more widely visible than it could be in any other possible position. She had never been so open, so exposed, and so vulnerable. The thought of her body open that way got her so frightened that she almost lost her self-control. But she knew screaming would be of no avail. She recalled Deborah on the scaffold, and knew that anything other than that would be bearable.
The Nazis lifted the helpless girl a few centimeters, then lei her slowly, gently, back down. Her pussy was centered on Hauptmann's fucktool. Simone's cunt was aroused by the feeling of the pulsing glans between her open cuntlips. She had never been fucked by her master the Hauptmann.
Now, the first time, it would be consummated in front of all of these people with her as hog-tied as an insect in a spider's web. She had begun to whimper, and with that sound, she was dropped down hard on the officer's massive cock.
She had not the breath to scream aloud as the heavy meat plunged roughly through her soft pouting membranes and into her dry constricted cuntbarrel.
Whoever was managing the ropes jerked her straight off the cock, her pussy making a slurping sound with the suction. The penetration had been unbelievably deep. Deeper than she thought anybody could ever go inside of her. She had felt the cock stab all the way in to its limit, and she was sure that he had sunk all the way to the far end of her vagina with his cockhead and poked right through the rubbery end of her womb.
The sensation was like nothing she had ever experienced before, although reminiscent of her girlhood experiments with beverage bottles. She had not recalled those childish delights in a long time, and the recollection of the things she had done with the cook's daughter out in the loft brought Simone renewed excitement. As Simone reviewed her memory of that peasant's gangbang in 1938 she realized that it was better to have her cherry taken that way, than by the lecherous soldiers that were periodically arrested on the streets for rape. Many of those girls were killed, she knew, so that the victim could not identify her attacker.
But somehow, in a way, which Simone did not quite understand, the violence of her first sexual union somehow left a taste for the bizarre within her. Sure, the boys at school were fun: and because she had already suffered everything mentionable at the hands of the peasants, she was not shy any longer of the boys. But something had been lacking in their schoolboy love-play that she had not even missed until finding it here again in the prison.
The memory of Simone's first brutal lay made her juices flow copiously. The penetration by the cruel Hauptmann's fierce tool, while he lay supine beneath the contraption rigged of rope and suspended from the ceiling, was greater than the surprise of that first ignominious rape. There would be nothing in her life to ever match that feeling of fullness, Simone knew. The penetration was so unbelievably deep, that she felt his cock go all the way to the very limit, and she was certain that he was deeper than she had ever thought anyone could go inside a woman.
The sensation of fullness made her juices flow, and she was raised up and made to rotate simultaneously so that her cuntbarrel twisted around the upthrust cock. The unseen manipulator of the pulley was jerking her up and down in short swift strokes as she was being turned, so that the Hauptmann, with effort, could time his pumping movements in rhythm with her bouncing asscheeks. Simone thrashed her head in circles as her cuntwalls sucked her master in deeper, impaling herself further than she could ever have imagined. Like a puppet, her German masters were making her gyrate frantically, first one way, then another.
Her voice, distorted with pain was grunting disarticulated syllables of animal passion. She had not expected such a feeling of utter domination; such complete lack of self-control.
Her masters were reaching far into her-to the very core of her femininity. With lancinating effect, the pole of rigid cockmeat bore into her. Far within, she could feel it twitch against her pussywalls, around and around, battering everywhere, incessant upon her slick corrugated cuntbarrel. Every inch of her body had been subjected to degradation and exposure since her capture, but this was the final and most complete invasion of privacy.
Suddenly, Simone was pulled up and away from the probing rod. The complete emptiness caused by the cold absence of cock, made Simone cry out. Her scream was cut short by the startling sensation of hurtling down. Down onto the firm iron cock. Simone was sure that she could feel the cock ripping through her velvety coral membranes, ramming tightly against the very opening of her bruised womb. She made her body rigid to keep the lance out of her.
She tightened her asscheeks in one futile attempt to forestall the entry, to prevent the huge cock from forcing itself through her body, but the shock of blinding pain stopped her, and her membranes opened under the force of gravity.
At the angle of penetration, even a virginal cunt would let a cock sink in right up to the balls. But with Simone's experience, the invasion simply set her body to rocking rhythmically. The depravity of being split like that, hanging with, thighs widespread for such abuse, had taken away Simone's feelings of identity as a person. She now felt she was only a thing used for sexual gratification. Food for animal lust. Somehow the knowledge of her total humiliation made her feel more sensually free than ever before, and she ground her pussy viciously on the cock. Her pussy was so open, so vulnerable. Still an unseen manipulator pulled her up and down.
Eventually, the rope manipulator was holding her still, just above the Hauptmann's thrusting hips. This allowed him to drive upward, by arching his back, and thrust up to barely connect with her mucous membranes and tease her warming lust. The Hauptmann went in all the way, then eased out back to the edge of the sphincter, again and again, until the exploding cock discharged.
Simone could feel the, stiffening of the plunging rod, the rock hardness that seemed to throb momentarily before it began squishing out its load. The Hauptmann must have signaled the man using the pulley, for Simone felt herself drop, to fall onto the exploding cock.
Her excited body rode insanely up and down as the Hauptmann brought himself off. With the angle of penetration, Simone never felt so completely used up, never so completely debased. She was sore and weak, but still the hammering question: "Who were your contacts in the Belgian Students Union?"
Simone heard the pulley overhead squeak, and she was raised to about shoulder height. Her bare ass was slapped painfully. The motion transmitted to the ropes and the pain made her feel queasy again.
She knew that her cunt was open and wet, visible to all. But the cramped position she was in made it impossible to keep her bladder from contracting.
They rained blow after blow upon her, as though the shame of what happened was not sufficient. Behind the sound of urine spattering on the floor at their feet, she heard the sound of the whip, as it buzzed through the air.
She began to scream in anticipation, but the lash on her exposed asscheek cut short her cry.
"Talk now!" The Hauptmann shouted.
"I know nothing."
Buzz; snap. The whip struck her vulnerable flank again.
"We can flay the skin right off you, you understand? Good. Names. We want them and we'll get them from you."
"I tell you I'm not involved in any..."
Snap.
Simone lurched with the pain as it coursed over her. Her splayed hips stung with a burning she could not soothe with her wrists cuffed.
"Next one will be aimed right across your cunt, you understand?"
Simone thought briefly of Alex. Would he betray her under the reverse circumstances? She liked to think that he would not, but would hold out to the death rather than reveal Simone's name. But Simone knew, with a sting of guilt, that she would not hold out that long.
"Yiiieeee!" an agonizing scream filled the room for some moments before her brain connected with the pain across her cuntlips and she realized that it was she who was screaming. When she stopped trembling in her swaying perch, the Hauptmann was fondling her clit with his fingers.
"You understand, we could do the same thing to you we had done to your Jew friend. Arrows. Or just whip handles." To punctuate his statement he rammed the handle of his whip into her open pussy, driving it forward and skewering her mercilessly with it.
Simone clenched her fists, trying hard to hold the growing lust which seemed to bloat her body all out of proportion. As the leather covered metal whiphandle thrust in and out of her pussy, her cuntwalls were being stretched far apart. The thick invader was painfully splitting her tissues.
Each thrust of the handle made Simone's body dangle helplessly on the suspended ropes. The heavy handle made her tingle with the stimulation around her now swollen pussylips.
The passionate response seemed to grow within her like a storm.
Then the storm broke.
Her cunt drooled sloppily as the heavy metallic invader skewered and twisted deep within. Her ass was expanding and contracting in sympathy with the dildo's movements.
Simone surrendered to an intensity of feeling as the handle was twisted in and out, in and out. "Ummmmnnngh!" she grunted; the pole seemed to fill her entire body and leave no room for breath. The Hauptmann's whiphandle gouged her insides viciously, and she was helpless to fight or to withdraw. She started pleading wordlessly; a torrent of incoherent syllables of abject submission to her Nazi tormentor.
But he only poked harder and deeper, as though his purpose was not to gain information, but to impale the bruised girl to death. He was fucking her madly with the handle, ramming it in and out unyieldingly, like an overgrown dildo. The prod was giving her incredible cramps, and she could feel the embossed metal handle abrading her cunt like a hot file.
Involuntarily her pussy muscles squeezed down on it, and that caused her love dew to flow, lubricating the passage of the dildo. The brutal handle continued to fuck in and out of her, and the instrument incited her hot youthful blood. Her cunt was creaming, and the nectar flowed. Simone knew that she would not betray Alex's trust. She would not talk. The fucking bastards could not torture her enough to make her tell them anything.
The Hauptmann must have realized that his brutal torture was but exciting his victim, rather than having its intended effect. Simone's wrists were freed from her ankles and the rope was taken from around her shoulders so that she hung head down. Then the others left the room.
The excitement instilled in her young body had not been allayed. Simone could see how the beating and the whiphandle fucking she received had stimulated her, for her nipples hung long as she swung, upside down.
When she got accustomed to being upside down, she began fondling her breasts. The smooth cones that jutted out were soft and tender to her kneading fingers. Simone rubbed her puffy, bruised tits between her fingertips until she was so sensitive she could not stand it any more. She let her hands slide along her sides, linger at her navel, and then tease gently at her wet cunt. Simone strummed her erect clit and writhed, moving her hips in rhythm with her fingers as they probed and buried themselves deep between her slick cuntlips. Simone was being overpowered with her sensations, and she bucked and swirled her ass so that even her breasts quivered.
"You're horny," she grunted to herself. "You're horny," she whispered as she ground her hand into her cunt like a dildo. Her hot pussy was gyrating under her touch. It was wet and warm and when she sank one finger right up to the knuckle in her tight moist hole of passion, her groin exploded with searing pain. She spread her knees as far apart as she could, and with her hand began massaging her large labia.
Simone inserted another finger into her cunt and wriggled her ass while she pried and probed in the lubricated cuntbarrel.
Her breath was an irregular series of spasmodic gasps, as she fingered her pulpy cunt of trembling tissues, liberally stopped with her love lava. She pulled her hands away, and rubbed her welt-covered asscheeks, trying with all her might to make it last longer. To hold herself back, she squeezed her buttocks tightly, and stared at the mat of her hair pressed down on her pubic ridge.
But she was so excited that it was only a short time when she recognized the signs of her impending orgasm. Surrendering to it, Simone deftly pressed a wet finger into her rear passage, and used her other hand to tear and jerk at her pussy hair. She pumped her whole body furiously, thrashing and screaming as she rooted her cunt with four fingers of one hand.
It came as an inundating wave of electric pleasure, radiating from her gaping cunt, down her spine, and through her arms and legs. For a while she hung there as if in another world, far from the Nazis and the prison. Her body was warm and wet and contented, wet with sweat and pussy juice, contented from long and repeated climaxes.
The prison people were coming back into the room just then; Simone had the strange suspicion that they had been watching her from concealment.
Seconds later she heard the pulley straining and saw that the ropes bearing her were being lowered.
She was quick to sense the security of the cold stone floor. Her bonds were released and she found her stiff limbs would barely move, they were numb with the loss of circulation. Her hands were cuffed together over her head where they were attached to the suspended rope. The rope was made taut, so that Simone had to stand on her tiptoes to relieve the pressure on her shoulder sockets.
At least she was on solid ground and not swaying and swinging crazily, Simone thought. Then she heard the sound of the whip in the air. A whistling buzz. The sharp crack. She looked to see a stout matron, bare from the waist up, flicking a long dark whip toward Simone.
Simone trembled, waiting for the lash.
The Hauptmann signaled the small-breasted woman with stooped shoulders to begin, and the matron raised her whip arm high over her head. Simone saw the first blow descend, almost as in slow motion: There was the expert rotation of the wrist; the long leather coiling with a deadly grace; the whip floating in a wide hateful arc. Then came the bite of the three thongs which dug into her. Simone lost her balance on her toes as the pain shot from her naked ass along her spine. There was a moment, when she thought her arms were being jerked right off.
Simone regained her toes as the matron raised her arm, and again the whip arced harshly. Simone jumped as the flail made contact, straining at her bound wrists to escape the heat of the blow. The matron had more power than the Hauptmann, and now the stout woman began to crack the whip in earnest: Over and over again, until Simone's pain-wracked body was hanging limply from the wrists. Simone could feel the welts caused by the whip, for they were not only hot and searing, but swelling on her belly, her thighs, her breasts, right under her very eyes.
No part of her young body was sacred. No part was safe from the bite of the leather snake. Her entire skin surface was stinging with the burn as the whip descended again and again and again. The fire was permeating Simone's entire body, seeming to numb the outside while the inside got hotter and ached more.
Through slitted eyelids Simone could see the matron standing in front of her, a powerful, muscular, half-nude body gleaming with perspiration: Small breasts heaving on her muscular chest wall as she caught her breath. Unable to hold her head up any longer, Simone's chin fell heavily to her chest. Every square centimeter of her was lurid red, inflamed, and crossed with swelling welts.
"You are getting weak, Heidi," the Hauptmann smiled at the matron. "Let me take over again."
To Simone he barked, "Will you talk, or does pain and death mean nothing to you? You are within a centimeter of your life, you understand? Good. We will capture others. We will capture others who will talk if you do not. But you are still beautiful, a blonde prize within this prison. Compare the relative ease of serving in the Bordello to this," he shouted in frustration as he swung the whip resoundingly.
The Hauptmann, in contrast to the artful slowness of the matron, was quick and vicious, and Simone squealed in ways she had not done under the woman's arm. Less powerful, the Hauptmann struck her more painfully, so that his lashes drew blood, cutting through her tingling welted skin. She trembled as through her eyeslits she saw the Hauptmann aim the whip at her cunt, then at her nipples. She cried weakly as the searing pain inundated her, and then her head dropped heavily forward. Her body continued to writhe under her bound wrists each time the whip descended. With increasing frequency the lash opened her skin and caused the blood to flow. Multiple bloodied ridges of flesh were opening up now, and blood trickled in droplets to the floor beneath Simone's suspended body.
Were she not losing consciousness so rapidly, Simone know that she would talk now. But they were not giving her a chance to talk: The blows were raining incessantly now. Her last recollection was the conviction that she would be dead before she had another chance to talk.
Dreams of misty horrors paraded through her mind for uncounted days. Purple-veined cocks standing erect from paper-skinned corpses, mottled with spider webs of crisscrossing crimson blood vessels and deep whip welts. Glassy eyes stared at Simone from hairless noseless skulls.
When she awakened, she found she had been bathed and rubbed down with oils. She lay naked on her still tender back in a bed. Apparently she was in an infirmary, for glass-doored cabinets with small bottles lined one wall, and drawers, another.
A man dressed in a dirty white lab coat came in eventually, took her pulse and blood pressure, and walked out. A prison trustee brought in a bowl of potato soup and left without speaking to her. Greedily, Simone ate the soup and the dark bread that lay submerged at the bottom of the bowl.
Her mind was confused, but she was certain she had not given out any names. It was, she knew, a matter of survival to hold out as long as possible, for once they had that first name, they would demand others. And when they had enough names, she would be of no use to them-except as soap.
The doctor in the lab coat returned, followed by several others. The others all carried notebooks and appeared to be students. None seemed particularly interested in Simone. It was like grand rounds at any teaching hospital, Simone thought.
The doctor was saying as he entered, "... and the cryogenic labs were as good as anywhere in the nation. Take those five kilo babies and immerse them in icewater until they expire, and we find an average survival time of about fifteen to twenty seconds per kilogram body weight. You see that survival is not a direct function of the number of degrees below core temperature plotted against body weight." He broke off then and gestured toward Simone.
"This patient, a female in the prime of life-you will ignore the cutaneous contusions and lacerations for the moment-is typical. We are going to examine her pelvis digitally. Have gloves been distributed? Fine. You two gentlemen, hold her in the lithotomy position."
Simone was too weak to object when her knees were bent so that her feet rested firmly on the mattress, far apart to open her cunt to them. The doctor was talking all the while, demonstrating with his hands what the students were expected to palpate within her womb.
The first student put clear jelly on his glove and inserted his hand roughly, as though examining meat in a butcher shop. Simone gave a quiet yelp, but everyone ignored her. The student struggled to palpate the bladder and each ovary, and, when he was finished, created a tremendous suction by withdrawing his hand.
Another hand followed. The sensation of having these hands thrust up her cunt made Simone aware of a searing excitement growing in the pit of her abdomen. She was aware, as she looked down at her nudity, that her titbuds were unashamedly hardening, elongating in front of all of the students. The third was now rummaging inside her pussy, and the sensation was so filling that her cuntmuscles involuntarily squeezed down on his invading hand. The fourth was unintentionally pressing her long pink clit with every move of his arm. Simone could feel the juices oozing from out of her now, slimy hot torrents of cream that trickled down her asscrack and over her asscheeks to make a torrid puddle at the base of her spine on the bedsheet.
A fifth hand. This was smaller, and Simone opened her eyes from her reverie to see that it was a girl who was probing her.
The sloshing of slippery fluids was embarrassing Simone, who could feel herself blush hotly with the flatulent sound of the movement of the examiner's hand.
Despite herself, Simone felt her cunt muscles squeezing down on the girl's slender hand, and the girl looked up in surprise. Then a grin crossed her face, but she said nothing. The next hand was greeted by an involuntary pussy contraction which drew it up high into her cuntal passage. The student remarked on it to the doctor, who promptly pulled Simone's hot, pulsing clit into view above the student's gloved hand.
"This is a good opportunity to discuss the autonomic nervous system and the dorsal nerve, the terminal branch of the pudendal nerve. Of course, you see this patient is sexually aroused. Arousal depends entirely upon the autonomic nervous system, as you shall shortly observe. Bring me hemostats, please."
A student turned and began groping through the drawers, finally producing for the professor a long pincer-like instrument. The doctor snorted and flung it down. "A hemostat with flat jaws, not the kind with teeth, stupid."
A short time later the student reported there were none without teeth in that drawer, and the professor cursed.
"Shall I look in the next room?" the girl student was asking.
"Never mind, we'll use these. They'll serve the same purpose," he replied.
Simone winced when the pincer was placed over her swelling lovebutton and the instrument clamped. She could feel a stinging pain arise in her abused cuntflesh and travel around her entire orifice. While the professor twisted and handled the hemostat, he was speaking over her moans of agony, "The miniature penis is comprised of two corpora cavernosa suspended by a suspensory ligament and capped by a glans, as in the male."
The students muttered in low tones for awhile before clamping additional hemostats on her titbuds. Simone recoiled as the pain penetrated her soft white orbs. She must have screamed, for one of the students was placing surgical tape over her mouth. Thus displayed, Simone had never before felt so ashamed. She was being treated like an experimental animal. She was shocked with pain when the doctor began inserting surgical needles into her pinched-white titbuds. Her still sensitive feminine gland trembled as every fiber in her body shuddered. A single drop of blood appeared at either end of the surgical needle in one breast, and the doctor was lecturing in unintelligible medical jargon which held no meaning for Simone. Again the thrust of a needle, this time puncturing her clit. The hemostats were removed, making her genitals and tits ache with a new sting. The doctor belabored his point by tapping on the surgical needles while he spoke, and occasionally the blood would spurt from the wounds.
When leaving the room, the professor absent-mindedly singled out one of the students to retrieve the equipment from their subject. The man roughly jerked the needles from Simone's flesh, and with a cotton swab, sterilized the three peaks of Simone's debased femininity. With an afterthought., he drew his hand back from the surgical tape that covered Simone's mouth and unbuttoned his crisp white trousers. In a moment, this thick fucktool reared from his pants and his hands were busily turning Simone face down, pulling her hands in front of her so that her face rested on the bed. Her body quivered as he brought her ass up with his meaty hands and forced her knees to support her in the knee-chest position. She was aware of the rough, distinctly un-medical hands pawing her slashed and tender assflesh. Her asscheeks were parted, and then she felt the bludgeoning cockhead at the entrance to her cunt. She groaned behind the adhesive tape gag, and struggled from the sharp lancinating pain. Despite Simone's fear, she could feel her pussy dilate with her love lava. The mucus lubricated the skin of her upturned buttocks, and this provided her with a coolness that afforded a certain detachment from her sexual organs. Simone could feel the med student sopping his cock in her freely flowing pussy juices as he rubbed it up between her legs and stroked her crucial membranes to excite her.
The circumference of the cockhead made Simone whimper behind her taped lips, as she felt it slide past the ring of cunny muscles that guarded her vagina. Lustfully, Simone tried to edge back onto the mammoth jerking rod.
"Hold off, baby," the student admonished. "I just want to get it good and juicy.
He was sluicing into her open cunt rapidly, stretching her asscheeks with his hands simultaneously as though to split her wide open. The cockmeat slipped up into her pussy with soft squishy sounds as he grabbed her hipbones to fix her movement as he sent the thick rod of his pole relentlessly high into her unresisting cuntbarrel. She heard him groan with the feeling as he plunged inwards through the wetly yielding walls until his balls rested against the sticky skin of her thighs.
When she felt him retreating from her cunt, her wet suctioning muscles tried to retain his receding prick. The cock came away with a flatulent pop, and Simone felt his blood-engorged tool slide up the narrow crevice between her sleek statuesque buttocks and come to rest at the tiny puckered opening. He pushed the pussy-lubricated cock uncaringly into her little asshole as it spread open helplessly around his ravaging cock.
She shrilled tearfully as she felt the rigid ring of her anus sliced open elastically by the head of his massive shaft. The cock was shoved in hard, pushing apart her protesting sphincter. He gained entry faster than she could have believed, and the working part of Simone's brain told her that he must have greased himself with that jelly he put on the rubber gloves. Her sphincter clutched tightly down on the invading fuckmeat like a glove itself, but his rod was deep within her bowels. Each thundering invasion brought her new pain. Simone had been ass-fucked before, first by the tramp, and then hours after that by her captors in the woods. The humiliation was no longer as great as it had been then. Nonetheless, coming as it did after long subjection to hands in her cunt and needles in her tits, it was debasing enough to make her pray for death.
She did not deserve such treatment. She had done nothing which would merit her being an experimental animal subject to the lust of the prison guards. The medical student continued thrusting, and Simone's ass felt as though it were on fire. She told herself vainly to relax, for she had learned before that while relaxing the pain was lessened. Still, the excruciating pain made it almost impossible to loosen the tension. Her belly was cramped as the fucktool abraded Simone's tiny little back passage. She was grunting from beneath her bandaged lips as the mass of cock thrust in, pulled out to the tip with a wrenching suction, and then thrust viciously in again. Simone's breathing was hissing through her nose as the medical student began a powerful rhythmic fucking that almost drove her crazy.
Under this assault it was impossible to relax. She screwed up her asshole sphincter as each thrust plowed in and out of her. Her stomach was lurching under each penetration of her intestines, but Simone knew that she had suffered plenty of pain in the last weeks and she was still alive. Pain per se, did not cause death. Right now, she could separate the sources of her pain: Her asshole was on fire, her body was stinging from skin lacerations. Her lungs were bursting from the effort to catch her breath with her mouth sealed off.
With this respite of objectively, Simone was able to blot out the pain caused by the plunging fucktool. Lost in the sensations which were coming in waves across her mind, some of the pain faded and pleasure began to dominate. Warm flashes of sexual pleasure surrounded her cunt now, and the cock plunging in and out of her asshole was not as degrading as it was filling. The prick was still sliding in and out of her tight, puckered opening, throbbing powerfully against her rectal membranes.
Simone felt herself coming alive again, with a sensuality totally devoid of any reason. She felt her muscles contracting and quivering ecstatically as her body traveled up and back to meet the invading cock. Her insides seemed to melt, to squeeze and relax in rhythm with the boiling passion and heat that spread from the tool that fucked her rectum.
Then she could feel the med student coming, squirting high up into her entrails, and the feeling made her whole ass circumscribe tight little circles in the air as her own orgasm involuntarily peaked. Her asshole sucked the plundering cock inside as her muscles contracted in an excruciatingly long climax. She still felt his body quivering between her spread knees, as her statuesque thighs weakened and collapsed. She fell on the bed while the throbbing afterglow of orgasm permeated sweaty, exhausted flesh.
With a rude popping sound, the man pulled out of her anus.
He left without, a thank you. Clearly he considered her only an experimental subject, unworthy of notice. Simone was sick to her stomach. She bent over the edge of the bed and ripped the surgical tape painfully off her mouth before she retched.
The soap and the bread. It was as if reverse peristalsis in her anus had traveled all the way up to her mouth, and she felt disgusted. Not only had she been shamed beyond human endurance, but her guts were empty and she had no idea when she might, be fed again.
Spasms of internal pain continued to rip through her body like the horned handle of the whip. Her mouth was dry as though something had built a nest in it, and her tongue was sandy.
Yes, she decided, it was time to talk. The very next chance she got, she would talk.
Chapter Seven
Modern Maid
Days passed listlessly in the infirmary. Simone began to get uneasy. Her uneasiness was caused in part by a recent skin disease which made the skin around her chest and genitals turn red, then shough off, leaving big red sticky patches that burned. When these patches got encrusted with a thick white elephant-like skin that itched, Simone was hustled to the prisoner's showers twice daily.
The showers were merely wide wooden barrels which were tipped from an overhead ledge with a rope. The rope had a wooden handle and was threaded through a pulley, so that one twenty gallon bucket of cold water in the unheated showers was all that was available. Simone was surprised that the prison did not have showers with indoor plumbing, but there was a widespread rumor throughout the prison that the indoor showers had been modified for use in another project.
Male and female prisoners had to shower together, there being no provisions for the privacy of individuals at Lehrterstrasse. One day, a guard who had been eyeing Simone lewdly for some days, ushered her to an altered shower stall. In this, the bucket was suspended by eyehooks in its rim. The eyehooks were threaded with four ropes, and a fifth rope with a wooden handle was looped through the overhead pulley.
The leering guard stripped off his one piece coveralls and came at Simone. His long dark fingers began undoing the ties of Simone's infirmary gown. It never crossed her mind to resist him. Soon her clothes were lying at her feet. His long fingers brushed against her dual orbs while with his other hand hooked long fingers under the waistband of her panties and they whispered smoothly down to her ankles.
His incredibly moist tongue licked her body while she stood there, unmoving, under his ministrations. He licked her ankles, her legs, her thighs, her buttocks, her back. His tongue fucked upward and finally into her ear while his hands reached around in front and cupped her cones of jutting, firm breasts. She had never been turned on like this before, and her whole body felt electric. Then he eased his hard pulsing cock between her asscheeks. It slipped along her asscrack into her cuntal slit, and the glans rubbed on the stem of her clitoris insistently.
Simone surrendered to the new pleasure willingly.
"Climb into the bucket," were the first words he spoke to her. His voice had an element of command in it that she was powerless to resist. She sat down backwards in the shallow bucket.
She fell through the bottom. "Hey!" she cried, leaning over for the first time and seeing that the bucket had no bottom.
Her feet and arms hung over the rim, but her double up body hung dependent through the hole in the bottom, exposing her ass and cunt.
She tugged on the wooden handle, trying to use it as a handgrip to pull herself out. She rose into the air, bucket and all. She kicked her legs, and that only managed to wedge her in tighter. Now her thighs were pressing her breasts flat.
"Hey, lemme outta here!" she said angrily.
Then Simone grabbed one of the outer four ropes and pulled herself up on that, but all it caused was a dizzy rotation of the bucket. Suddenly she discovered that she could manipulate the contraption just the same way that a parachutist could direct his chute. She found that with very little effort she could rock it back and forth, twist it, and then holding onto the rope that had the handle, could even pull herself up and down like an elevator.
The dark young man in the meantime had gotten on the cement floor under the bucket, his erect cock weaving up at her, centered under the bottom of the bucket. She got tired of holding the wooden handle that made the bucket go up, and she lowered herself to rest on the guard, her smooth buttocks touching his huge cock.
It had been days and days since Simone had had any sex, possibly because of her ugly skin disease, and the feeling now delighted her.
Simone reached under and grabbed his cock in her fist. He moved his hips up and down, pushing his prick in and out of her hand. She traced her thumb over the slit in the tip of his cock, and rhythmically tightened her fist in cruel grabs.
She lifted herself up a few inches, and directed his cockhead to the satiny folds of her cuntlips. Letting the bucket down gently, her cunt became aroused at the feel of his pulsing, throbbing glans.
Simone was so open, so unhindered, so exposed, and so vulnerable. The thought of herself that way got her so excited that she let go of the handle. She dropped down hard on his massive cock and screamed as his hefty meat plunged roughly through her soft pouting labia and into her sopping cunt. "Yowwwww!" Simone hollered.
The guard quickly grabbed the handle as it came within his reach and jerked her straight off. Her wet orifice made a slurping sound and she yelled again. The penetration had been unbelievably deep. Deeper than anyone had ever been. She had felt his cock sink all the way to the root, and she could distinctly feel his balls crowd at the base of her cunt.
Simone's juices were flowing copiously now, and the raised her hands to strum one of the ropes. At the same time the guard towered her back onto his stiff shaft. She felt the vibration of her strumming all the way to the depth of her cunt. Soon she was grabbing the various ropes in combination, twisting and sniveling around his prick. She reached for the two ropes in front of her and started rocking back and forth. He held the handle and began jerking her up and down in short strokes as she swiveled and rocked
She noticed that the guard was timing the pumping movements of his hips with the control of the handle. Simone thrashed her head in wide circles as her cuntwalls sucked him in deeper. To increase her pleasure she swiveled frantically, twisting first one way, then the other way. As she twirled, impaled on the iron shaft, she heard herself involuntarily grunting.
His shaft went deep, deep into the bottom of her pussy and to the far recesses of her insides. It twitched around and around her slick walls. Every inch of pussy was being gouged by giant prick, her clit squashed by his hairy pubes.
Suddenly Simone was yanked high into the air. He let her come hurtling down right onto his erect cock. She felt it rip through her hungry cunt right up to his scrotum, and he was pumping her hotly.
Twisting the ropes passionately, she yelled, "Let... me... have... it! Oh, oh, oh, har-hard-er... harder!" Over and over again Simone cried out her need, setting her body to rocking in the contraption, grinding her pussy viciously on his cock, and begging him to fuck her harder and harder.
When she climaxed, her whole body stiffened as her arms and legs and head jerked out like five points of a star.
Then he was cumming, thrusting his hips upward, driving his enduring cock deep into her pussy. Simone only sobbed for more. She was almost insane from coming now, and her cunt oozed with their come. It ran out of her cunt, between her asscheeks and down her asscrack. Yet she continued coming. She lost count after the fifth time. When he helped her out of the bucket, she was sore and almost delirious. As she struggled free of the device, more white jism squirted out of her hole and ran down her legs.
After the guard helped her from the bucket she stood shakily, stiff and sore, not only from being doubled up, but from being fucked to the limits of human endurance.
The dark young man guided Simone to a tub, which he filled with steaming water for her. He meticulously sponged her body as she lay in sudsy water. Afterward he went back to the infirmary with her and there, had her lie face down while he massaged her body with aromatic oils. Slowly, he massaged the strength back into her sore muscles. Soon, she felt not only restored, but felt better and more alert than she could ever remember feeling before.
Simone decided at that point to follow Deborah's advice: To seek out a life in the prison Bordello in the closing days of the war when the information she had became progressively less useful to her captors. Perhaps, if the shower room guard was any indication, she could capitalize on her attractiveness to obtain an early release.
She decided that the Hauptmann would be her very first conquest. He had never fucked her in passion. He had only fucked her brutally while she was hung from those ropes with the riot stick under her knees. If he could be made to see Simone for what she was, an attractive and willing concubine, the transfer to a Bordello assignment should be easy. The only problem she could foresee was the Hauptmann's estimate of the conclusion of the war. If he thought it was near, she would have no problem. If he believed fanatically in the invincibility of the Third Reich, she might still have a chance of convincing him that she knows nothing of the underground.
Her opportunity came the following day. Simone rose from her cot to greet the smartly uniformed Hauptmann. Her infirmary gown was short, to show off her legs, but as insurance she left the front partly open to show the gentle rise of her breasts, she made a show of having missed him, and cowered to him seductively. She had needed his masculine attentions, she asserted. She had not been beaten in days, and her servile nature was demanding it.
Surprised, he allowed her to urge him toward her cot. All the while she was letting her patient gown fall from her square shoulders to expose her breasts.
The grey gown was whispering to the floor as Simone urged the Hauptmann onto his back, and began undoing his belt. She slipped off his uniform trousers and unbuttoned his shirt. Soon he was completely naked, and Simone was sitting straight up across his lap, fondling the engorged cock. She rubbed her own cuntlips in the familiar slow stroke that women use to bring themselves over, and when her own cunt was hot and greasy, she spread her thighs wide apart. Kneeling, Simone bent her legs back behind her, and rubbed her clitoris over the underside of his sensitive cock.
As she humped herself to and fro, her body glistened with sweat and her massive tits swung back and forth. She bent forward then, thrusting her pear-shaped tits full into his face. Her movement allowed him to position his ready cock directly between her sopping cuntlips. Then he raised up on his elbows and captured a swaying tit with his lips, licking the hard nub in the center, sucking the magnificent gland to draw blood up into the nipple.
Then he hunched, driving his tight-fitting cock up into the wet tunnel of her grinding pussy. All the while he sucked and licked at the breast with his tongue, teeth, and lips. He rolled and licked that gland until saliva ran down and trickled in a rivulet on her heaving belly.
Half sitting and half lying down, he clasped his fingers behind Simone's back, and, pressing his face between the mounds of flesh, licked at the salty sweat he found there. He soon found that with his hands around her, he could alter her position on his cock, driving himself up into another part of her quivering cuntbarrel. The cockhead probed against the soft walls and a thrill of pleasure raced down her spine. He squeezed his thighs together and lifted his ass up, screwing hard into the hot wetness to give Simone throb after throb of intense pleasure.
He massaged simultaneously up and down her back, letting her feel the slipperiness of sweat under the fingers. He thrust up harder with his cock as he fucked it savagely in and out of her pouting, oily cunt.
Simone rolled forward, bending the cock inside of her body forward as she ground her ass down. She could feel the tips of her cunny opening stickily around the throbbing column of tumescent cock. The labia moved sensuously around the root of the straining prick.
She moaned softly, her titbuds pointing straight out.
He slid his hands down her back, down the length of her whole spine, the curve of her low back, and then the outward corpulent hills of her ass. He stroked those cheeks up and down, grabbing them, slapping at them, and squeezing them. She felt the muscles of her cunt go into spasm as she gripped the cock in a sudden convulsion of pleasure. He moved his fingers down into the asscrack. He stroked up and down the length of the crack, making it wet and slippery with sweat and the slimy ooze from her sopping discharge.
He prodded her asshole as they fucked, pulling the tight anal ring first one way, then the other, with an index finger. Her ass ground down on that finger and the cock together, pushing to get them both in as deeply as possible. The finger slipped in and the rectal muscles spasmed shut, squeezing the finger like a fist. He rammed the finger without mercy, and she squealed and slithered her ass around, forcing the cock deep against the rubbery end of her pussy.
Inside her rectum she could feel the finger riding up and down alongside the cock which stretched the soft velvety tissues of her cuntwalls, throwing her into spasms of shudders.
He reached around, and under her, until his hand up until he was touching the rear flap of her cunt. The round hard shaft of cock was spreading the lips open, and she felt it running in and out between them.
He pushed a finger up alongside the driving rod of cock, forcing it into her vagina a short way. Then he squeezed another finger in next to it, stretching her cunt opening to gaping proportions. The cock slithered up and down against fingers and her cunt walls.
He laid down flat on his back, straightened his legs, and used the additional leverage to drive the cock harder and more savagely into her convulsing box.
She hunched up and down vigorously, leaning forward and balancing. Her belly undulated, her hips swept back and forth. Her broad curving mound brushed back and forth between her widely spread thighs. She could see the bud of her clitty sticking out red and damp from between the folds of her pussylips, and it bounced and throbbed in full view, for his fingers and cock held the lips apart. The wet slimy insides of her cunt, oozing gum, twitched and retched in orgasmic precursors, slid rhythmically up and down the length of thick round prick.
Then two of Simone's fingertips were covering the erect stem of her lovebud. She began to masturbate in slow rotary movements that drove deep between her lips. Soon the fingers were making tiny thrusts on her clitstem, her arms and thighs stretching and straining to press the fingers adequately against the nub of her lovebutton.
The Hauptmann placed his palms across the erect cones of her breasts, twisted them, pressed them flat, and turned them. He pinched and probed them, digging his nails into the glands. He caught her thick long nipples between his fingers and pinched and rolled them lewdly as he thrust his cock high up into her moist canal. Simone's fingers were making wet, squishy sounds as they pulled at her gummy lips, forcing them to slide back and forth obscenely over her clit.
The Hauptmann put his hands on the crests of her hip bones as if they were handles, and pressed her against his cock to drive it in as deeply as possible. His body rammed at Simone's pussy with wet hard slaps.
Simone moved her fingers in ever-tightening circles now, her cunt locked like a vice around the Hauptmann's cock. A warm spilling wetness flowed out and it rolled across the length of cock. Her body became stiff, and she stopped masturbating as the cock drove wildly in and out of her elastic hole. He pulled her down on the cock which throbbed and jerked deep inside her quivering hole.
In the height of her passion he raised his knees and forced her to lay prone on top of him. Her tits were flattened against, his chest, and Simone felt the curving mound of her sopping cunt press hard into his pubic ridge. He fucked her at this angle while she climaxed, kissing the Hauptmann passionately, deeply, tasting the sweetness of his harsh labored breathing.
Vibrations quaked all over Simone's body as they came together-wonderfully.
She lay there, pleasure filling her body as she surrendered to orgasm. She had brought her master to the heights of passion. She, a simpering, worthless prisoner had done this. The Hauptmann was satisfied, collapsed, deflated, beneath her servile body.
The Hauptmann made no explanation, but wasted no time in transferring Simone to his personal staff in the officer's quarters. Whether it was because of the incipient end of the war, or because he no longer needed information about the underground, Simone had no knowledge. But within the day matrons had come for her and marched her to new quarters, where she was made to dress in the short black low-cut, uniform of a maid. The uniform was a simple one-piece poplin dress with a stand-out skirt and puffed sleeves. It had a white collar and cuffs, and a frilly white apron.
After dressing she was taken to a tastefully furnished concrete-walled room with two men and a woman. She recognized the Hauptmann, her master. There was also a man wearing civilian clothes who walked like a lame duck with mincing steps. He hovered over a woman who was elegantly dressed.
There was a carpet, and pictures on the crude walls. There was also a feeling of tension in the room, a sort of immediacy about everything. At a loss for something to do without seeming to eavesdrop, Simone started cleaning ashtrays. Upon the desk she saw her first indication of how long she had been imprisoned. A desktop calendar showed it to be the seventh of May, nineteen forty-five. Simone also learned by listening that the woman's name was Jasmine, and the civilian was named Gunter. The Hauptmann was addressed as Max.
"What a sweet little wench we have here!" the woman named Jasmine remarked to the Hauptmann with a malicious glint in her eyes. "Too bad we can't take her along with us." Simone saw that the woman was well-educated by her speech, perhaps quite rich. But there was something in Jasmine's eyes that made Simone feel that Jasmine hated the prisoner-maid.
The evening was off to a bad start when Simone could not open the champagne bottle properly, and then was subjected to insults because she spilled a little.
When Simone handed Jasmine a cigarette and forgot to light it, Jasmine exploded, "You lousy little bitch!" and immediately aimed a slap right across Simone's face.
Simone looked to the Hauptmann for some sort of protection, but he was apparently unconcerned about the maid's predicament. Simone thought someone like herself, of high birth, should not be treated like unimportant property in front of another woman of good birth. But Simone consoled herself by reflecting that Jasmine would probably soon be drunk at the rate she was pouring down the champagne.
Simone stood in the background while Gunter produced a briefcase and started talking in low tones to the Hauptmann. There was an exchange of envelopes and after a few moments of chatter Simone could see that the tension in the room had subsided somewhat. There was still an air of expectation, and perhaps anxiety, but everyone else there seemed to know exactly what they were expecting.
Jasmine was the only one who was drinking a bit too heavily, Simone noticed, and now Jasmine was sitting awkwardly on an overstuffed sofa near Gunter. Gunter reached over while Simone was filling glasses, and brutally squeezed one of Jasmine's pendulous breasts inside her dress. The pressure brought tears to Jasmine's eyes. Morosely, Jasmine dropped her head onto Gunter's shoulder and flung her black-hosed legs widely apart, revealing the pale, white flesh above her stockings almost up to the narrow crotchpiece of her panties. Jasmine was wearing a sleeveless black one-shouldered dress which came, down to just below the knees in a thick fringe, and concealed nothing when her thighs were apart, as they were now. Jasmine's drink-glass free hand landed upon Gunter's pubic region, and began massaging the area lewdly. Jasmine cooed softly as though to wake up his cockmeat.
Simone's impression was that this woman had no pride whatsoever, but could not look away from the lascivious scene as Gunter's hand began slipping up Jasmine's dress toward her openly presented mons.
"Whooie, I feel good in spite of it all," the black-clad woman announced, lifting herself lightly from the sofa and walking to the middle of the room while swaying her full round hips and brushing her long Aryan blonde hair from her slender neck provocatively.
Gunter was perspiring heavily as he watched the lithe golden goddess swing her smoothly-curved buttocks just in front of his face. Then Simone saw him groan and pull at the crotch of his suit.
Smiling to herself, Jasmine pointed one toe toward Gunter and stroked her hands down over her firm breasts, one just barely concealed in the one-shouldered gown. Her hands slid past the softness of her belly and down the statuesque length of leg. She ended the sweeping movement of her hands by grasping Gunter's cheeks in her fingers and wobbling his head back and forth playfully.
Simone thought it was like being in a strip show. Jasmine was stretching both of her long arms from under her single-shouldered dress, and jiggling her breasts under the material. All the while Jasmine was lewdly grinding her pelvis. Even from across the room Simone could see the white breasts describe small circles under the cloth as Jasmine's hardening nipples brushed against it.
Jasmine's eyes, reflecting her drunkenness, were heavily lidded as she cupped her fingers over her firm tits, kneading the globes obscenely while wetting her parted lips with a darting tongue. Simone could see that Jasmine was getting hot when she beckoned Simone over to her and motioned for Simone to undo the buttons of her dress in back.
When Simone was done, the woman made the dress slide seductively down, little by little, from her glowingly healthy flesh. It was obvious to Simone that Jasmine had never been whipped when the dress eased to her waist and the perfect dark areola stood with hard upthrust nipples in the light of the room. Simone was watching Gunter ogling the naked breasts avidly, and apparently Jasmine was also aware of it. She stepped over to Gunter and bent forward to let the little man kiss the bouncing tips of the titflesh. Suddenly, Jasmine grasped Gunter's bald pate and pressed it deep into the cleavage between her exposed swell of orbs. Jasmine laughed tauntingly; Gunter tried to probe his fingers into her buttocks.
Jasmine pulled away and stepped back still holding her dress under her full breasts. She began wriggling and grinding her ass, and slowly let the material of her dress slip down over her flat belly, unveiling the thick blonde vee just below a crimson garter belt. Rolled-down black panties concealed her womanhood.
Gunter made a convulsive movement and nearly stood, but, just at that moment Jasmine threw her arms up into the air and moved her hips around and around in a faster and faster circle. The black dress slipped little by little over the ripely rounded hips and slid down teasingly over the smooth black panties, down the black-stockinged thighs and calves until it fell in a fringed heap at her ankles.
She stepped from the dress and with one foot kicked it directly into Gunter's face as he stood there, bent forward, half standing and half sitting.
Gunter stood erect, pulling the cloth from in front of his face, as his prick made an enormous tent in his trousers. Gunter's eyes were greedily boring into the rocking black triangle above Jasmine's clenched columnar thighs, which were striped only by the place where her black nylons changed to a darker color and fastened to the red garter belt snaps.
Jasmine's own hot hands were tauntingly exploring her creamy skinned abdomen and dipping beneath the elastic of her black panties while she swung her blonde head backward to force, the swelling titflesh upward. Her long hair fell down her nude back wantonly.
Simone could feel the hot lust flowing through her own veins as she watched the luscious little bitch. Simone was throbbing with desire she never before had known-a feeling of yearning for the body of another woman. Yes, she recalled, there had been Deborah. But Deborah had been different than this Jasmine. Deborah had been another drowning soul lost in a morass of prison iniquities. Deborah had been like a sister. But Jasmine! Oh, if Simone could ever get her hands on Jasmine. Perhaps Jasmine would even whip her.
Simone watched bug-eyed as Jasmine paraded her booze-sopped young Aryan body all the way around the circle of three entranced faces. Jasmine's juggling tits bounced openly before her, the strong muscles ripped under the soft tissues of her finely molded asscheeks.
When Jasmine passed the Hauptmann he tried to bite the jostling half-naked buttocks and wrap his arms around her stockinged thighs, squeezing the resilient flesh.
Simone was ordered to serve pinafores to the party, and when she returned to the room she saw Jasmine drunkenly lolling against the Hauptmann's chest as he massaged her jutting tits and stared wild-eyed at the blonde Amazon as she lolled in front of him. But the Hauptmann had his fingers under the elastic legband of Jasmine's panties, fingers forcing roughly between the wetly straining lips of her slit.
Gunter was sitting again, his hand on his bulging crotch as he fixed his eyes directly on the valley between Jasmine's thrusting thighs. The Hauptmann made a sudden jab into Jasmine's crotch, evoking a curse. "You bastard. Take your fucking time. You're hurting me."
Simone wondered who this woman was who could speak this way to the Hauptmann. The woman slithered away from his grasp without the Hauptmann making the slightest protest.
Jasmine lay down languidly on the rug and thrashed her head back and forth erotically as she spread her upraised knees and ran her slender fingers down over the narrow band of silk between her thighs. She was teasing at the hurling blonde pubic hairs escaping from under the elastic. The huge peaks of Jasmine's tits jolted one another as she writhed and kicked off one high-heeled shoe after the other. Her swiveling pelvis made her asscheeks grind lewdly into the carpet, as she unclasped her nylons from her garterbelt. The black hose slid from one of her creamy white legs as she slipped it to her tapered ankle. She then rolled on her side, stretching the stocking between her fleshy thighs and pressing it against her trembling, soaking cunt.
Simone looked at the little narrow band of black panties which barely covered the pumping buttocks and furtively rubbed the front of her own dress as Simone felt her own pelvis twitch. Simone wished she could get down on her hands and knees and look right up into that throbbing crevice that soaked Jasmine's panties with its feminine sex dew.
After a while Jasmine rolled onto her abdomen, crushing her enormous tits into the pile of the carpet. She slid her hands down her sides and slowly edged the elastic band of her black panties over the globular mounds of ass which she pumped curvaceously.
Jasmine pushed her panties half way down her thighs and then slipped her fingers under herself to hide them as she ground her coral pink pussy into her outstretched fingers.
Simone in her complete, absorption with the scene, could almost feel her fingers in her own cunt, and she groaned as she involuntarily pressed her thighs tighter together.
Simone's attention was so wrapped up with the movements of Jasmine that she had not seen the movement on the sofa where Gunter had unabashedly opened his trousers to take out his huge, lust hardened cock. When she suddenly noticed it, the sight of Gunter's cock standing out of his dark pinstripe dress suit made Simone flood love juices into the nylon band which pressed up into her cunt. Simone wanted her body naked too.
But Simone, servile now and unsummoned, merely stood glued to the spot above Jasmine's writhing body. Now Jasmine lay on her back, exposing her dark areola, her hands furiously jabbing her cunt and tearing lewdly at her pussy hairs.
Gunter made a low sound deep within his throat as he threw himself to the rug, slipping off his suitcoat as he moved. Gunter rammed his face between Jasmine's upraised thighs, slipping her black panties the remainder of the way. Jasmine, accommodated by spreading her legs wider as her hands moved to press his face down into the wiry yellow hairs of her mons.
Simone watched Gunter's tongue sink deep into the naked cuntal slit while Jasmine threw her head back and squirmed like a pussycat in heat. Simone could clearly hear the noisy sucking sounds that Gunter was making down between Jasmine's outspread thighs, and her own vibrating clitty burned with passion. Simone saw the rolling semicircles of Jasmine's fleshy ass as she thrashed wildly in response to the licking and lapping. But then, to Simone's surprise, she saw the Hauptmann, his cock waving lustily from his trousers, kneeling down at Jasmine's head. The Hauptmann was guiding his huge fucktool into Jasmine's open mouth, while with his free band he was obscenely rubbing her tits.
Jasmine responded by reaching up with one hand to tug lazily at one of the Hauptmann's loosely hanging balls.
The spectacle set Simone's own cuntlips into spasms of hotly moistened fire, and she probed with her fingers to gouge her soft pussy hungrily beneath the silk of her panties.
Jasmine was soon gobbling at the Hauptmann's stiff pistoning cock as be plunged its long thickness all the way to the back of her throat, his eyes coldly watching her lips sucking his prick and milking his jumping testicles.
Simone felt her own stiffened finger sliding now under her elastic legband, to gouge wetly into her eagerly greasing pussy. She was getting that finger deeper beneath her panties with each thrust as the hot moist walls of her cunt opened to her attentions. Simone was squirming with the sensation as she watched the three on the floor at her feet.
Finally grasping aside the crotchpiece of her panties with one hand and inserting her other hand half-way into her pussy. Simone felt the soft squish of her quivering cunt. She slipped the restraining panties down to the crease of her buttocks.
Jasmine was groaning deliriously as she ground her ass harder onto Gunter's mouth, "Arrgggh, my pussy! Ohhh, do it with your tongue. Do my pussy." Jasmine begged as she drove her body down and her legs thrashed wantonly.
Jasmine yelled, "Don't stop, oh, don't stop licking." Her rounded ass was swiveling in uncontrolled semicircles as saliva trickled from the edges of her mouth where she lapped the Hauptmann's cock.
The Hauptmann was pumping his hard cock mercilessly into Jasmine, who hollowed and expanded her cheeks rhythmically. Her full, red lips were encircling the swelling veins of his fucktool. Suddenly, the Hauptmann grunted, his face distorted with passion, and Jasmine's throat worked vigorously as she struggled to swallow the seemingly endless stream of jism he was squirting. He ground his huge, thick prick back to the ring of muscles which guarded Jasmine's throat.
As Simone watched Jasmine desperately try to avoid choking on the hot, jism, she felt her own desire inflame her pussy, making it twitch uncontrollably from the pull of her own sticky juice-laden fingers.
Simone watched hungrily as Jasmine unlocked her jaw and allowed the Hauptmann to slip out with a wet flatulent sound. Threads of semen clung to her moistened lips until she licked them clean and turned her attention once again to her own tongue-filled pussy.
With a maddening mixture of envy and desire that had been kindling with Simone, she drove her middle finger through her swollen cuntlips. Her hardening titbuds were throbbing with Simone's need. Her eyes were still fixed on the scene before her. Simone began to rub slowly back and forth with her outstretched fingers, gently sliding them along the slippery crevice between her cuntlips. Her clit, she discovered, was fully erect. She teased the aching nub with her fingernail, and could feel immediately the rippling waves of pleasure consume her as she forced her middle finger still deeper, insinuating far past the second knuckle so that her fist rested greasily against, her hair lined mouth, while her thumb was free to roll her trembling clitoris.
Simone heard the lewd moans of unsuppressed pleasure escape the throat of the Aryan beauty on the rug, and the sound raised goosebumps over Simone's entire skin. Simone could see clearly the long probing tongue with which Gunter probed Jasmine's hair-crowned cunt as it sluiced in heated passion. Violent whirlpools of passion also seethed within Simone's erotically excited body. Simone's mouth was hanging slightly open and her breath came in hoarse rasps as her fingers moved to stroke the heavily honey-gummed lips of her pussy. Using her outstretched middle finger, she plunged her hole in and out, enjoying the feeling of the clasping sphincter as it sucked her finger toward her vagina.
The lustful exhibit before her, drove Simone to press her thumb harder into her burning clitoris. Almost immediately Simone could feel her release building within her, filling her tortured body with a very familiar delight. Simone's hips thrashed hard against the wall and her hand squeezed her own breast as she watched Jasmine getting tongue-fucked in an unspeakably debauched posture. Faster and deeper Simone's middle finger fucked into her waiting flesh, churning and twisting the heat the fingers built up within her.
Simone's head was spinning with the combined effects of her masturbation and the altogether salacious scene before her. She leaned against the cold damp concrete wall as she plunged another finger beside the first, high up between her lithe clenching thighs.
Jasmine was gasping for breath now, having locked Gunter's head tightly between her fleshy thighs and pulling on his hair with clutching fingers.
To Simone, it looked as though Gunter would suffocate, but Jasmine did not seem concerned as she thrust, her well-muscled body mightily on the prone man who lay enveloped by her lovely legs. She was humping, up and down, back and forth, again and again. Jasmine's hands were clawing Gunter's scalp as she writhed, her face completely distorted with passion.
Finally Jasmine yelled. "Ohhhh, I'm cumming-I'm cumminghh!" and was suddenly very still. Her legs were outstretched where they held Gunter's face in a vice grip. The muscles and tendons stood out in the Aryan woman's thighs. Her face was contorted and the ligaments of her neck stood out in her throat unnaturally.
Suddenly and without warning Simone's own climax exploded throughout her wetly pulsating vagina and surged along her spine to fill her lovely young body with a voluptuous release. Simone cried quietly as she shook with incredible tremors of passion. Her fingers, three of them now, continued to rub hard across her now wildly throbbing clitoris, even as the intense burning waves of release soared through her satisfied flesh.
As the climax ended, Simone sank to the floor, trying desperately to still her racing heart and rasping breath. She was weakened: drained. She heard as if far away the conclusion of Jasmine's orgasm as Jasmine pleaded, "Baby, bay-bee... suck harder... har-derrr! I'm coming."
When the orgy subsided the Hauptmann noticed that Simone still sat on her haunches, knees wide apart, right hand still buried high up between her legs.
"Look at this slut, will you?" he shouted in an unnaturally supercharged voice, calling the attention of the other two to Simone. "The dog, we'll beat her well for this!"
Chapter Eight
Conquest
The consensus of the three was to punish Simone for her behavior in masturbating in their presence. Simone raised herself upon one elbow to look at the three, who by now had gotten whips from somewhere. Jasmine kicked Simone sharply in the ribs, so that Simone fell backward against the wall. "Swine! Slut." the Aryan-featured woman shouted down at her. Another kick was aimed at Simone's groin, and she rolled as the whip came down, striking her painfully through her clothes. Simone could feel angry welts growing beneath the pressure of her clothing.
Simone tried to gain her knees, but a well-aimed kick from the woman forced her back to the ground. She crossed her arms over her tits, but the barrage of kicks and blows continued. The two men were standing aside, watching the whipping like some sort of perverse entertainment. There was no escape for Simone, who was completely at the woman's mercy if the Hauptmann did not speak. Blows fell upon Simone from every direction, kicks and lashes touched every centimeter of Simone's body. There was no way to turn to mitigate the torture, certainly no way to escape.
Simone was suffering at first from the pain and fright in this totally new situation. Sweat was flooding from her pores and mixing bitingly with the blood from the open welts beneath her little maid's dress. But as before, Simone soon got over the fright and acclimated herself to the pain, and in that process found the agony was not as insufferable as it had been in the beginning. In a perverse way, just as the two men seemed to enjoy seeing Simone beaten, Simone herself was getting a kind of pleasure from the sting of the whip. Strange as it seemed, the pattern of acquiescence which Simone had noticed during former whippings occurred again: The more the blows hurt, the more excited Simone seemed to become. Kicks from the high-heels of the stately Aryan woman tore through Simone's black dress. Since the very first kick had landed in her crotch, it felt as though Simone would be paralyzed. But the kick had stimulated sensitive nerve endings. Then Jasmine seemed to get tired of kicking and instead placed her high heeled leg firmly on Simone's chest in a classical gesture of conquest.
It was humiliating. Simone had been as well educated as this Jasmine. Simone came from a family of good repute and comfortable living standards. And now Simone was being not only made to act out the servile role of a maid to her, but made to suffer the subjugation and physical abuse of this woman. A man is a natural master, thought Simone. But another woman was intolerable.
Jasmine was pressing Simone down hard onto the carpeted floor. Simone was made to remember by verbal threats that she was only a prisoner, and the spike of the heel was justly symbolic of Simone's status compared with the proper Nordic majesty of the blonde Jasmine.
Jasmine held Simone down for some time with the full weight of her foot on Simone's chest, on the breastbone between Simone's encased orbs. With her whip, Jasmine continued to plant ringing lashes on Simone. Most humiliating of all, Simone was getting erotic pleasure from the blows.
For the first time since her arrest, Simone had taken a short respite to think about her own reaction to her treatment. It was easy to pass the entire episode off as a simple nightmare. But when she thought about it now, Simone had to realize that it did arouse her. Even at the furthest limits of her endurance, Simone could not imagine any circumstance under which she was not erotically stimulated. And here she was, lying supine under a vindictive woman who was perpetrating one of the most ignominious acts upon her that one human can perpetrate on another. And Simone was loving it. Becoming aroused and excited by Jasmine: Unaccountably, but undeniably. There had been a strange transformation since her first encounter with Lehrterstrasse. There was a certain aspect to servility-no, that was not it-surrender, which made a woman feel whole and satisfied.
A perverse thrill went through Simone's mind when she thought of the blonde's fringed cunt just above her own supine body. Simone wanted to look at Jasmine's pussylips. She wanted to look between her torturer's legs.
Jasmine's thighs seemed enormously powerful, and her tits were now huge watermelons which jounced erotically each time Jasmine dropped her whip-arm. To be fully in surrender, completely abdicating one's own responsibility for behavior- that was what made her present situation so bearable, Simone decided. Jasmine, another woman, ordinarily on the same plane with Simone, was therefore the ultimate in Simone's self-abnegation. And Jasmine's beating of her, was exciting her.
Simone longed to see Jasmine's cunt again. Her hair, by now sweaty and jism-matted on her cunt. Simone wanted to see the gaping slit as Jasmine's legs moved in rhythm with her arm. Despite the pleasure of the shoe heel digging painfully into Simone's ribs, Simone let her gaze travel up the length of statuesque calf along the inside of the thigh, all the way to the point where the thighs joined in the hairy shadows of Jasmine's cunt.
Jasmine's legs seemed to be unnaturally far apart, and the blonde bush could be seen now as extending all the way from high up on her abdomen to her hidden asshole. Painfully, Simone moved her shoulders to get a better view of that erotic genitalia, and as Jasmine whipped her, Simone watched the cuntal crown of pubic hair sway. Simone watched the coral gash of Jasmine's pussy open and close with each descending blow, and she saw that the lips were glistening inside with love-juice.
After the fucking Jasmine had gotten a few minutes past, Simone was certain she could smell the musky pungency of sex emanating from Jasmine's hole. Moments later Simone was certain of it, as Jasmine slowly squatted to place her cuntflesh in erotic contact with Simone's face. The blows ceased, but in their place was the suffocating odor of femininity. There was no light, only the creamy round thighs of that woman who now straddled Simone's face, rubbing her cunt ferociously into Simone's face. Could Jasmine have gotten as excited as she had? Just by administering the whipping? Was it possible that Jasmine got the same pleasure Simone had gotten whipping Deborah? It was a strange thought, and coming atop the mixture of sensual pleasures Simone was feeling, anything seemed possible.
Now Simone could taste the cunt. She could taste the sweet-sour of the combined juices of Jasmine and Gunter. She could feel it slopping down her nose, her cheeks, and she could feel it flooding her eyes and her mouth. Jasmine's pubic hairs were prickling Simone all over the face, and the irritation of the friction made the sex fluids a welcome balm.
Simone was once again experiencing joy in her subjugation. Her own subconscious drives, long beneath the surface of awareness, were now being fulfilled. Simone was eating her mistress's cunt. As the Hauptmann was her master. Jasmine would be her mistress, and the thought excited Simone beyond belief. She could cry out now from happiness. She was a slave, and worse-she was a handmaiden to another woman. A bitch of a woman. The woman was torturing her, whipping her, kicking her, suffocating her with the vilest part of her anatomy... but, always within the level of Simone's physical tolerance.
The sensations had been beyond recollection in detail. Each lash of the whip became a source of erotic excitement. Simone's whole body could be one full-length erogenous zone. She was all sensation, all pleasure, and every feeling, whether pain or pleasure was stimulating.
Simone was unable to catch her breath for several long minutes after the woman sat on her face. Gradually, Simone adjusted to the enveloping flesh of her body and began gouging expertly with her tongue. The soft smooth pussylips parted, spurting Gunter's come and her own sex lubrication. Simone gnawed madly on Jasmine's clitoris, rolling the long erect miniprick thoughtfully between her teeth and lips. Simone was this woman's slave, and duty compelled her to administer her most sacred service to the Nordic mistress.
Simone was exhaling into Jasmine's cuntbarrel, and Jasmine was reaching for an elusive climax. She was riding Simone's face like a bicycle, and Simone was afraid for a moment of suffocating. But then it seemed the woman straddling her erupted in a great cunt-spasming explosion. For several moments Jasmine was very still, unmoving. Then suddenly Jasmine's cunt began sucking vigorously over Simone's nose and mouth. Simone could feel the floor of Jasmine's pelvis rising and falling in an orgasmic rhythm, and Jasmine's thighs and legs began to quiver.
Simone relaxed. She had performed her job. Simone continued lapping at the slippery cunt juice as long as it flowed copiously down from the innermost recess of Jasmine's body.
Simone had not climaxed. Yet, it was fitting that a slave serve only, and not participate. As Jasmine straightened and rose from her crouch, it became apparent to Simone that the two men had other ideas.
A huge grey German Shepherd dog was in the room, restrained by the Hauptmann on a leash. The Hauptmann was speaking to the party. "She needs to be punished further."
"She needs to be really punished." Gunter affirmed.
The men ripped off Simone's dress and panties and held her legs apart while the dog licked and lapped with an abrasive tongue in her tender cuntal tissues. Simone could feel the hard spiny teeth cutting her tender tissues unmercifully. The more Simone attempted to slither away from the ravenous beast, the firmer he engaged his snout in her pussy. Dogs like that had torn people apart, Simone knew. Simone spent a few moments reflecting on how such a dog might have been trained for his present work, and found the thought stimulating.
The dog slobbered at her cunt amid the remarks and amusement of the three observers, until Simone began to get really excited. Soon she was caressing the big dog's head between her pulsating thighs, driving the hard snout home. She was humping the dog vigorously now, and the dog was lapping madly at her pussy.
Simone never felt more self-abasement, in her life. To be bringing herself off helplessly on a huge carnivorous beast. The dog seemed to enjoy her juices as much as she enjoyed shoving her meat at him. And then the sensations were rippling up her spine from deep within her belly. Simone was beginning to cum. "Oooohhhh! Damn. I'm cuumminghh! Ayeeeiii cuummmmiiinnngghh... augh!" she shouted at her observers in the midst of helpless orgasmic shudders. Her tongue-lapped pussy was gyrating wildly under the dog's rasping whiskers and gnawing teeth.
And then, at some signal from the Hauptmann, the trained dog was on her belly, clawing, scratching. The dog had an erection too, and was spearing Simone's wide open cunt with it, as he groveled against her, his paws scratching and trailing blood over her ripe young titflesh. Simone could smell the dog's foul breath and she was nauseated by the animal's behavior as it fucked up into her with massive fluid movements of its hairy body. Simone squeezed down on her cunt in an effort to prevent the disgusting dog's cock from entering her, but the dog was as hard as an iron pole. It rammed her with a growl, and despite herself, Simone felt her orgasm taking hold once more and driving her over the brink. Helplessly she cried out as the dog stabbed his cock into her and she embraced the scratching clawing animal with her lovely young thighs and marble white arms and clutched it to her as it, too, went over.
It was making a growling noise way down in its throat as she squeezed its jism from its trembling haunches. The dog was no longer scratching and biting, but was becoming sated as it spewed spurt after spurt of its thick semen into her wide open cunt to the applause of the watchers.
Simone was catching her breath when the lights went out.
The other three in the room seemed to move purposely toward something which Simone had not seen before. A small flashlight was lit and then a battery radio was crackling in the background. Through a noise like that of frying eggs she could hear a voice issuing instructions. This was it, Simone hoped fervently. Word of the end. The end of the war, the end of her imprisonment. And she had survived.
"Berlin is under attack," the Hauptmann said in measured tones to his companions. "Thank you for your passport, and map. It is time I depart."
"Have no fear, Max," Gunter rejoined soberly. "Odessa will take care of you. Just get to the Swiss border before the Russians. Just hurry, for God's sake, hurry. And one other thing, Max. Thank you for the pleasant interlude with your beautiful Frau Jasmine. She is really quite a woman, that wife of yours."
In the shadows Simone could see Jasmine and the Hauptmann leave by one door, and Gunter by another. She thought of escape, but the dog stood over her like the angel of death.
Simone heard loud noises, probably bombs. She wondered how long she had been in the room after the other three left. She had time to think, and she wondered how she could so completely deteriorate into a shameless, mindless, nymph. How could she have deteriorated so completely? Simone had been anticipating the end of this war for longer than she could remember. Now, that it was on the verge of completion and she was practically free, she was aware of a feeling of empty futility. It was a feeling of inexplicable loss. It was only comparable to the feeling one had when leaving first grade to go on to second grade. It was a transition to be welcomed, but nonetheless unwelcome. Simone realized that she would not want to spend her life in prison anymore than she would want to spend her life in first grade. But there was a feeling of disappointment involved with the capture of Berlin. Simone was on the verge of crying when the matrons came for her and took her back to her cell.
Simone had noticed that lately there had been more matrons, less male guards. Of course, the obvious explanation was that the Nazis were drafting every physically able male now, old men and children were going to fight at the ever closer front lines. Now, even Berlin was under siege.
It was some hours later, punctuated by the sound and quake of continuous bombs, that the matrons came to Simone's cell and marched her to the mess hall. By Simone's calculation it was the middle of the night. The prisoners were told they were being taken to a more secure prison, and were marched, four abreast, onto the street.
Unbound, but well-guarded by nervous matrons with Lugers, the straggly line moved past the Berlin Sportspalast. Each prisoner walked with her hands on the shoulders of the prisoner ahead. If there would ever be a time to escape, thought Simone, this was it. It was hard to know how crucial escape was at this late hour. Perhaps the guards merely wanted prisoners with them as hostages for safe conduct. Or perhaps they were under orders to liquidate the prisoners before the arrival of enemy troops.
Simone, as always, was led to action by her sense of immediacy. She tripped a woman walking alongside of her, causing a disturbance when the girl fell and clutched the one ahead of her. The woman behind, who was marching with her hands on the falling woman's shoulders, stumbled on top, and in the brief confusion Simone darted into the doorway of a bomb-gutted building.
She picked up one heavy brick, wet with water from fire hoses, and stood alongside the doorway ready to brain anyone who followed her. But in the noise and confusion more than one of the prisoners must have started running, for there were shouts and then gunfire. Several died in shrieking agony, apparently because of the break Simone began. Her thoughts returned briefly to Deborah. Then, when she was certain that no one was pursuing, she clambered over the piles of rubbish and sought the security of the interior of the building.
Simone considered her position. She could not go out on the street. Dressed as she was, she would certainly be arrested again. The air raid sirens were howling again, and instinctively Simone headed for the dark center of the building. It apparently had been an apartment house, and one whole side had been simply severed from the structure. On upper floors, everything seemed more or less intact, and some of the rooms were open. Everyone must have been cleared out after the bombing, thought Simone, since the building was definitely structurally unsafe.
Simone ransacked about in the rooms, seeking clothing. She was getting nervous that she would find nothing before dark, and be forced to sleep in the chill May air wearing nothing more than the light prison clothes. Finally she found an entire wardrobe, size twelve. Shoes, and even a warm fur coat were available now. It was getting too dark to find any identification in the room, and it might not be a good idea to be caught with someone else's identification anyway. Looting was a crime, and technically, Simone was looting. On the chance that the owner of these clothes might return, Simone went to another floor and found a bathroom. There she crawled into the bathtub for protection from the wind and from discovery.
Simone had no idea how long she slept. Her bruised and aching body would not let her sleep for very long in any one position, and neither would the cold or the incessant bombing. Once she thought the building was shaking, but perhaps it was a dream. Air raid emergency sirens never stopped, until Simone was almost used to them.
Considering her brief interludes of sleep, she was awakening each time from a nightmare. She dreamed of the time she was fucked by the rail bum in the freight car. She awoke in a hot sweat only to sleep again and dream of the gang-bang by the three thugs and the murder of the tramp as he fucked her. She awakened with heart racing, wondering if she were sick, or perhaps delirious. But her complete exhaustion would not allow her to think, and soon she slept once again to dream of her debasement with the frozen man. Dreams followed, seemingly contained in other dreams, where she saw Deborah cowering, but goading Simone. Then the obscene destruction of Deborah's internal organs when she was used for archery target practice. Following the death of Deborah there were dreams of a m�lange of horrible denigrations: Beatings, near strangulations, abuses, exposures, vilifications. When the sun rose to throw weak and crooked shadows into the bathroom, Simone was nearly as tired as when she went to sleep. And the skin disease was back again. Throughout all of her dreams, Simone had been clear of complexion, white and clean of skin. But when she looked at herself in the fractured mirror above the washstand, she admitted that there would be many days and nights before her body was healed. Perhaps, she thought, her mind would never be healed.
Although there was almost no water pressure, the water did trickle at the tap. Simone had nothing but time, so she plugged the drain and waited for the filling of the tub. An hour later, when it was two or three inches deep, Simone took off the fur coat and eased herself slowly into the cold water. Once wet all over it did not seem as bad.
And then there were footsteps: The heavy fall of jackboots in the hallway. Simone crunched down in the tub and sought to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible. While hiding, she noticed for the first time that the incessant, sirens had ceased, allowing her to hear the approaching footfalls. They stopped just outside the bathroom door. Something must have caught the approacher's eye. It may have been her clothing. The footsteps came closer, and Simone, in a futile attempt to postpone the inevitable, shut her eyes tightly.
The steps came right up to the lip of the tub. Simone was not certain whether there would be a quick discharge of gunsmoke and then eternal forgetfulness, or the lash of another whip. For a long time she did not breathe. Perhaps he would think her dead? No, that was absurd. When she could no longer hold her breath, she shyly opened her eyes to see a man in a strange uniform looking carefully at her nude body.
"Fraulein?" he said with appreciation through a heavy Russian accent.
The Russians, thought Simone. Oh, God, the Russians have captured Berlin during the night. It's all over. It is finally all over. Simone did not know whether to weep with happiness or with fear. The leer on the soldier's face made Simone wonder if things would be any different now than they had been for these last few months.
With a rough movement of a strong arm, the dark-bearded man yanked Simone from the cold water and toweled her dry as though he had not seen a nude woman before in his life. Simone tried to be somewhat protective, but from long experience knew what would come next. The soldier's cock was already making an enormous bulge in his uniform.
But the stimulating warmth of the toweling, as he carefully wiped her ass and her crevice, made Simone begin to succumb psychologically to the ministrations of the soldier's massage. Perhaps, as it was rumored, this soldier carried cigarettes, or even chocolate. She hazarded a shy smile toward his preoccupied face, and she could see the cock jerk once, forcefully, in response. She could sense the depravity with which this foreigner's mind worked, as his hands groped for her tits.
Berlin had been captured. The war was over. She could go back to Marburg to continue her studies, or even back to Switzerland. She was free again. Life would be all that it once was.
The fumbling Russian was beginning to breathe heavily with irregular gasps. His fingers trembled as they caressed her titflesh and tugged at her erect little nipples.
They were only erecting from the cold of the water. Simone tried to make herself believe at first. And then the familiar pattern of arousal began again, and she voluptuously slid one hand down to her own lush vee and fingered herself slowly. After all, they would have all the time in the world.
The Russian was pawing her, kneading her tender titflesh with hard strong fingers. He said something to her which she did not understand, then made it clear by puckering his lips and advancing on her.
She opened her mouth to his, and he was embracing her, hard and cruel, as though to release her would cost his life. She felt the sharp uniform accoutrements stabbing at her tender young flesh, but she could ignore them. She was used to far more pain than one man could inflict at one time. She embraced him in return and felt his tongue enter her mouth hotly, probingly. She had never seen anyone so aroused. She felt he would ejaculate in his pants just by holding her to himself. She could feel his breathing become ragged as his cockmeat throbbed against her abdomen.
Anxious not to waste, the experience, Simone reached down and quickly unbuttoned his trousers to release his burgeoning cock. It. was longer and thicker than any she had ever seen before. It was at least as big around and as long as the whip handle that was used as a dildo when she hung suspended in the ropes at the Lehrterstrasse.
Suddenly Simone was creaming inside her own cunt, with the anticipation of having that cock ream her hole. She had never seen anything like it. Somehow, she knew that it would hurt even more than the whiphandle did, and she became excited thinking about that hurt. Ohhh, she reflected, she would goad this Russian into fucking her until that cock stuck in her throat. She would make him skewer her until she enshrouded every available centimeter of that shaft. Perhaps until she split, inside. And she would love it, she knew.
Simone was massaging the smooth shiny skin, easing back its brown texture over the bright red knob that protected, sore-looking, from the extreme tip. The little vertical slit was already leaking a clear fluid, and Simone was unable to stop herself from automatically bending down to engulf the rod in her watering mouth.
At the touch of her lips the soldier jumped back. She slowed her approach, blowing her warm breath on the turgid meat while she slowly stroked the balls which were tightly pressed against the root of the weaving rod. The balls were like big eggs tightly locked into the skin. They moved very little, but felt warm and pendulous with their load of sperm. Simone's mouth drooled in anticipation of getting that hot jism pumped inside of her. There seemed enough there for two uninterrupted minutes of ejaculation.
The Red soldier hastily began stripping off his uniform. He undid his belt and encircled her neck with it, making it serve as a sort of leash. Moments later he was jerking her head forward over his burgeoning prick. The massive rod was impossible for Simone to close her mouth around, and she lapped at it as one would lick an ice cream cone. When the Red got impatient with this, he tugged cruelly on the belt and forced Simone to take more of the rod into the back of her throat.
She knew she could not take the cock in her mouth, and urged the soldier's attention to his balls and his hairy asshole by pulling and twisting at the hairs that grew there.
The pressure became intense for Simone to swallow the cock whole when the soldier began jerking her head forward on the leash while at the same time jerking his hips forward.
The cock was pressing far back against the ring of muscle that protects that opening to the throat. Somewhere, Simone remembered reading that when Harry Houdini was performing in Germany thirty years before, he was able to swallow an ivory egg and then bring it up again, using some trick of relaxing his throat muscles.
One heavy hand was pressing against her occiput, virtually driving her head onto the spiking pole, and she was powerless to resist. If she was to choke to death, she was unable to prevent it. The moment she tried relaxing her throat, the cock popped into her esophagus. It lodged there, bucking, while her Pharynx milked it with contractions she had never before experienced. But she realized that although Houdini might have been able to hold his breath under water for several minutes through practice, she would suffocate if she did not inhale within about one minute. Even while she thought these things she began to see black spots cloud her vision. She had to get his cock from obstructing her windpipe, and the only way she knew of dislodging a cock was to make it limp.
Desperately she began swallowing, making the walls of her throat constrict rapidly and hard. She worked the cock, making her head move back and forth over the enormous meat until she felt the prick grow perceptibly in size, buck viciously within her soft smooth mouth, and then begin pumping.
Simone could feel spurt after spurt of hot jism coursing through the tube at the underside of the huge cock. The man tightened the leash and her throat constricted even more around the massive member.
And then the jism was pouring deep into her throat, warming her, with its searing, gushing ocean of sperm.
But the black spots were getting larger and beginning to run together like flowing puddles before she felt the prick go limp and she could reflexively gag it up to clear her airway.
Simone was limp, exhausted. The soldier was dragging her face down across the floor by the leash. One hand came around her waist, and he lifted her unceremoniously and dropped her, gasping into one of the beds in the buildings. Roughly, he spread her legs wide and she could see him feasting his eyes on her feminine portals. His cock was limp yet, but beginning to jerk erect. He wiped his drool with the back of one hairy forearm and applied his mouth to her cunthole with a tongue the like of which Simone had never before experienced. Perhaps it was the way he bent her neck forward with the belt that made her innermost tissues more exposed to his ravaging tongue. Perhaps his tongue was as long as his cock. Whichever, she could feel the membranes far inside begin to melt with the passion this Red soldier evoked. His tongue invaded, curled, twisted, and slipped all the way out, rubbing in the process all of the internal sphincter muscles inside. He did this again and again, each time adding a new and different thrill to his oral ministration.
When Simone was wet and drippy below, he pulled back, and wiping the drool and sex lava from his face, positioned his massive cock at her cunt. Simone froze with apprehension and doubt as she watched him handle the cock from between her twin mountains of titflesh. She was certain his pecker would split her down below.
She was certain of it as he inserted the glans with one rough thrust. Her scream was silenced by that ham-like fist that loosened some of her teeth. She explored the bleeding salty split on the inside of her cheek while he shoved another few centimeters of cock into her belly.
She groaned, wishing she had died a long time ago, before she was even captured. Perhaps, with luck, she would have broken her neck when she leapt from the moving passenger train. Her life since then had been one erotically painful event.
The Red was kneading her resilient white asscheeks as he slammed his naked loins against her. She could feel her body arch up to him even further as her instinctual lust encroached upon her mind. The agony had lessened now, and she purposefully blanked out her memory, letting her legs spread wider on either side of her ravisher's humping body. Dimly, she was aware of her calves and ankles thrashing wildly in the air. She was also aware of his balls, heavy, sperm filled, as they slapped harder and harder against her asscheeks.
What had looked to be an enormously oversize cock had fit her stretched cunt far better than she would have predicted. Now, the soldier's lust-hardened tool drove wildly into her open young pussy as it slipped in and out in a hectic pistoning motion He was pressing his fingers over the bouncing firmness of her asscheeks until he could squeeze both huge white orbs together against his jerking scrotum. Finally ceasing his pinching and squeezing of her ass, he held her hand in his and brought it down under her to force her fingers around his jism filled halls. Her fingers touched their rubbery softness and groped their twin fullness through the tautly stretched skin.
Simone wriggled in wild abandon as her pussy became greedier for its treasure. The heat seemed to be asking out of her body, the smooth inner tendons of her thighs quivering as she began the race to a mind-shattering orgasm. Her eager pelvis thrashed wantonly on its skewering cock in obscene rhythm with the wetly sucking sound her pussy emitted. Her fingers milked his balls and he quickened his speed while deep satisfying grunts emerged from his throat.
The soldier was fucking into her faster and faster, his hardened prick going deeper into the gushing fluids of her juice-soaked cunt as she embraced his rolling ass with thighs and legs and goaded him on to further fury. Her fingers worked at his balls until she could feel the jism boiling through his expanding prick.
Simone waited, her mind swimming with a frenzied yearning, until she felt him shudder violently on top of her. Then she ground her hotly sucking pussy up to the base of his plunging fucktool. Clamping tightly on the root of the prick, she churned her loins up and jerked at his testicles with her fingers.
As if struck by lightning, her orgasmic climax gushed, exploding through her entire body, ran lewdly down in between her desperately lust-clenched asscheeks. The tide rose and fell, spurting and percolating from the hot little sucking mouth of her young pussy.
Only slowly did the lightning become dim and the thunder become silent. The soldier collapsed heavily down onto Simone's sweaty young breasts, exhausted and emptied.
Although she could not understand his language, he made it plain by his gestures that she was to come with him. He removed the belt from her neck, and allowed her to dress in the finery she had been able to loot from the open apartments.
On the streets the civilians of Berlin were spreading their coats out for the conquering Russians. Only gradually did Simone realize that he was not taking her to a civilian processing station, but to his barracks. Once behind the barbed wire of the Communist compound the soldiers crowded around and made much of her presence. Simone saw something in their eyes as they ogled her that she did not like. But Simone was powerless to resist. She knew how the soldiers would treat her objections.
With a feeling of enormous emptiness, she realized grudgingly that she had merely traded one captor for another. She was a prisoner once more. Or perhaps she had never been anything but a prisoner.
Had she not been prisoner of her lusty body from the very beginning? She let herself be dragged away by the noisily gesticulating Russian soldiers.
