The room was still. Perfectly still. The lights shone brightly on the three girls bound to the platforms. They were in the center of the room. They were naked. Their strapped bodies had been tilted so that the gaping holes of their pussies were clearly visible to the assembled guests.
The man in the center was the one most on Kurt's mind.
His eyes burned into everything, he missed nothing, and Kurt knew that his future as a doctor of the Reich depended on the man's reaction.
He was surprisingly like his pictures. His moustache was perfectly rectangular, and it quivered slightly when he smiled or spoke. His voice was much softer than Kurt would have expected it to be, but the power behind it was unmistakable. Truly a man worthy of the title 'Der Fuhrer!'
Kurt turned back to the girls. Each of their clits had a jagged toothed clamp attached to it. Their bodies were already writhing horribly on the platforms. But their torment was only beginning!
CHAPTER ONE
"And we are...?" the clear voice of the squad leader rang out in the crisp German morning.
"The Master race!" cried the neat rows of youngsters in unison. "What is our destiny?"
"World dominion. The future belongs to us!!"
"Who do we serve?"
"We serve The Fuhrer, The Motherland, and our Destiny!"
"One Nation!!"
"One People!"
"One Fuhrer!"
"Das Reich!! Das Reich!!! Das Reich!!! Heil Hitler!!!"
Anna gazed with pride at Kurt, standing in front of the squad, leading the opening invocation. He'd always been a handsome boy, strong, sturdy good looks ... but now, more and more he seemed to be growing into the very embodiment of the perfect new German. The foundation upon which the Thousand Year Reich would be constructed.
Now. they recited the German National Pledge, they sang the German National Anthem, and finally, they spent twenty minutes in exercises, after which, the squad broke for breakfast.
Anna had never felt so exhilarated in her life. It really WAS a new world now, nothing like the stories she'd heard from her parents. The Party had seen to that. The country was prosperous once more. There was food on the table, there was a look of hope in the eyes of the people ... it was a new day, and she was there at the dawning.
Never had there been such a dramatic transformation of a nation, what the world had witnessed inside Germany. Now, she could hold her head proudly among the community of nations, content in the security that there was no reason, nor would there ever again be a reason for a German to hang his head in shame and sorrow at having been born in Germany.
And the future belonged to her ... and to Kurt, and to the rest of the Hitler youth.
This was the summer youth festival Two months of serious preparation for the roles that they would be expected to assume once they'd graduated from the prep schools and trade schools that were training them for their future occupations.
Anna and Kurt both knew what they wanted, and . they knew where they were headed. Medical school, of course. There had never been any doubt in her mind, and Kurt had been right beside her as she'd formed the decisions that would guide her through the rest of her life.
"The path ahead may be difficult, Anna," Kurt had assured her. "We must be prepared for the possibility that others will attempt to prevent Germany from assuming her rightful destiny."
"Oh Kurt, you're like all the others. Always talking war."
He'd smiled indulgently then, but now, some three years later, she'd grown more accustomed to the idea herself. And with the inevitability of war came the inevitability of wounded ... of death and dying. Never was there a greater need for doctors and nurses in the nation than now and in the coming years. She didn't want war. No one really wanted war. But she'd heard the stories ... she'd listened to her parents, her aunts, her uncles, sitting around the dinner table talking of a time she'd been too young to remember, a time when good Germans had starved to death because the rest of the world had taken away her right to be a free nation. A time when she'd been forced to accept the humiliation of Versailles. A time that would never be allowed to happen again.
And so in the bars, in the classrooms, in the churches, in the parks and in the parlours, the talk was of hope and prosperity but the grim awareness was that nothing just was ever won without a price.
In the Hitler Youth, Anna and Kurt and others like them learned how to pay that price, and they learned the joys of giving themselves for the good of all.
At the youth camps, and during the Summer Festival in particular, they were encouraged to sever the last bonds with their families.
"Your loyalty to your parents must never be allowed to circumvent your loyalty to the Fatherland," they were told. "You must grow accustomed to the notion that you are free, independent souls, bound by no dogma or philosophy other than that of the party. You cannot place any other relationships above that. NONE!!"
And so, at age seventeen, Anna found herself being treated like a mature adult, and as a result, she was learning to enjoy the liberties of a mature adult.
She was free. She was independent. She loved it that way.
"Come, Anna, sit with me," said Kurt, and while she'd expected the invitation, there was nonetheless a thrill at having the squad leader invite you personally, and in public, to sit with him. But then, anything else would have been not only a huge disappointment, but a terrible surprise as well. Anna and Kurt had only last week become lovers. Since that moment, nothing in the world had seemed quite the same.
"I heard your debate with Hans yesterday afternoon, Kurt," said Rolf, another squad leader at the Summer Youth Festival, and considered by some to be Kurt's chief rival for election to the National Committee when elections were held in the fall. Serving on the National Committee was a supreme honor. It was made up of young men and women in their last year of membership in the Hitler Youth, and a year in Berlin placed them at the very center of power in the country. The contacts and acquaintences one made there would be unbreaking, and invaluable. The competition between Kurt and Rolf had developed into a fierce, if still civil, battle.
"Did you have any particular opinions," Kurt asked Rolf, "or were you simply going to complement me on a brilliant defense of my position?"
Rolf chuckled. "Hardly. As a matter-of-fact, I was rather dismayed by the lax attitude you chose to take on the racial question."
"I fail to see the racial issue as being central to the German problem. It is crucial, of course, but you cannot ignore that it overlaps the economical and political areas in rather awkward ways ... ways that sometimes make a radical position appear to work against the national interest."
"Mmmmmm," Rolf said, arrogance oozing from his every word, "perhaps that would interest Professor Heindrich."
"I couldn't say what might interest herr Heindrich, or any of his collegues, but I can say that I'm not particularly interested in him. Or in his work. Perhaps you are content to waste your time on trivia. I prefer to strengthen the nation from the center. Questions such as you pose will take care of themselves, once the essentials are dealt with."
"My good friend Kurt, I fail to see any justification for such a naive assessment of the Academie of Racial Purity. Surely you don't suggest that the Professor's credential are bogus?"
"I only say that the usual period of time allotted to a 'new' discipline seems to have been horribly foreshortened in the case of the Professor. And his collegues, learned men all, I'm certain."
"Peculiar sentiments, for one who aspires to such lofty heights."
"My aspirations are my own, they are private, and they are nothing that I would care to discuss with you."
Rolf smiled. "You shall. Now, or later, the choice is yours. But discuss them you shall. It is inevitable."
Kurt kept his composure, but Anna could see that he wanted to respond sharply. He resisted the impulse, for which she was doubly proud. Kurt refused to be sucked into the darker side of the party.
"It's so senseless," he would always say. "We have history and destiny and right on our side. Why must we turn into thugs and butchers, when we shall prevail at any rate?"
Anna agreed with him. Like many, she hadn't taken a firm position on the 'racial' question, but those like Kurt, who were willing to speak out bluntly, seemed to be growing fewer and fewer. And even Kurt was striving to couch his moderate sentiments in a context that drew more and more heavily on patriotic symbols and imagery....
Down deep, he really believed it, however. There was no need to eliminate whole races. "My God," he'd exclaimed once, "what do you propose? We're talking about millions and millions of people. What is to happen to them? Do we simply exterminate them?"
It was all rather puzzling to Anna, at any rate.
One thing wasn't puzzling, however, and that was that after the morning lectures and study sessions, she was going to leave the camp, wander along the ridge path till she came to the stream, and there, she was to wait until Kurt joined her. And at that time, there would be nothing in the world that would have as much importance.
She fretted through the morning. Occasionally she had thoughts of the conversation between Kurt and Rolf and she wondered if perhaps the wave was rolling towards the bullies and thugs, of which Rolf represented only the most refined element. But beneath his cultured manner, his good looks, his refined speech there lurked the heart of an emotionless soul. The heart of a man incapable of compassion. Kurt had often spoken of that type.
"I'd hate to see Germany's recovery handed over to such types." he said. Thus far Anna had neglected to voice her own fears .. fears that perhaps those types had always been in control, and that only now, once they were firmly entrenched in their positions, was the thin veneer washing away and their true natures coming to the surface. People like Rolf were far too confident. They were far too assured of themselves. The sneer that he always wore on his face seemed too permanently etched there to make her feel comfortable.
At percisely eleven thirty, she gathered a blanket and placed it in her pack, took a container of water, some pastries and two apples and left the camp.
The day was warm, the sky cloudless.
In the distance, she could hear a band playing march music. Somewhere squads were practicing their formations. The Revue Ceremonies would be in three more weeks, and rumors had it that Himmler himself might come to watch. The thought that she could actually be marching in front of one of the Fuhrer's personal aides gave Anna a thrill of excitement that overcame all her doubts about the future, about Kurt ... about everything. She remained, essentially, an optimist. Things would work out. They always did. Hegel said it ... history was unfolding as it should, because, quite obviously, it was meaningless to consider the possibility that it might be unfolding any other way. She hoped for nothing more than to remain in the mainstream. "Anna!"
The voice was not Kurt's. She was still about a half of a kilometer from the river where Kurt was supposed to meet her. She looked around and to her dismay saw Rolf standing by the side of the path, casually slouched up against a tree.
She stopped a moment, and then she said "What do you want, Rolf?"
He smiled, arching his eyebrows. "What kind of a question is that? I want only what you want. Peace and prosperity and a triumph for the Fatherland ... isn't that right?"
He said it in such mocking terms, she was momentarily taken aback.
"What do you want with me," she asked. "What are you doing here?"
He started to laugh. "My my, Anna, it's not nice to be so suspicious You should have more faith in your fellow man ... your fellow men, in particular."
He walked over to where she was standing. "What do you want," she demanded again. "Why are you here?"
"Why? Such a silly question, don't you think? After all, I would think it was obvious what I wanted."
"It's not obvious. What do you want."
He was standing right in front of her now. His hand reached out to her, approaching her face.
She quickly slapped it away. "Don't you dare touch me."
"What?" he asked, amused. "Don't touch you? But Anna, that's what I want. I want to touch you. I want, in fact, to do far more than touch you. I want your body, Anna. I want you as my own."
"You are mad."
He smirked.
"Hardly. Why would you turn me down? I cannot imagine it. I'm the perfect specimen of Aryan supremacy. Have you ever seen eyes so blue ... hair so flawlessly blonde? I am all that the new Germany could ever want. Surely I'm good enough for you, am I not?"
She slapped his hand away again as he once more reached for her.
"Don't you dare touch me, Rolf."
"But Anna," Rolf said. "Don't be foolish. They want us to have sex. It encourages independent thought. We must be bold, as we reshape the nation, and that means that we can no longer be bound by outmoded morals from a decadent tradition. What are you afraid of, Anna. We must do it. We must mate. We must produce offspring, merge our perfect Aryan genes that the race might be strengthened. We must purge the Jewish influence from the blood of Germany, and the only way that we can do that is to make certain that the only babies born from now on are from acceptable parents."
She was listening to him, staring at him, but the words he was speaking to her hadn't yet sunk in. He reached for her again, slid his hands right up to her chin, but this time when she slapped him away he held his hand in place, touching her chin.
She turned away.
"Don't do that!" she cried, but he reached for her anyway, forcing her face back to his, forcing her to look at him. She averted her eyes.
"Look at me, Anna. Look at me."
She wouldn't look at him.
"You are a fool, Anna. I'm telling you that right now. You are a silly little fool. You think I don't know who you are out here to meet? You idiot. He is worthless. He is already being passed over. There is no future for him. The future is mine, and it can be ours, Anna."
His fingers were pressing into her chin harshly, and he was really starting to frighten her. But she refused to show it.
"Stop them, you swine," she cried, slapping him.
He slapped her back. It wasn't hard, and he knew that he hadn't hurt her.
"Do not ever do that again, Anna. No one treats me in that fashion. No one. Do you hear?"
"Leave me. Go! My private affairs are no concern of yours! Leave me alone!"
He started to say something else, but when she heard the sneering tone in his voice, the awful condenscension that was oozing from his lips, something snapped inside her, and without any further thought she applied the gymnastic training that she'd been receiving at the camp and during the entire time that she'd been a member of the Hitler Youth.
Her foot flashed.
He might have seen it coming ... perhaps it was just that he never expected something of the sort from a girl, and certainly not from her. Thus, when her foot buried itself deep between his legs, the first expression that crossed his face was one of puzzlement.
It was rapidly replaced by a look of extreme agony. His eyes glazed over, cheeks puffed out as he let out a low groan and he wavered on his feet. But he didn't fall over. He stared at her, and while she didn't get the impression that he was able to see her for a second or two, comprehension slowly returned.
"You'll regret this, Anna. You will surely regret this."
"Go to hell, Rolf. You are a swine, and I want nothing to do with you."
She turned and walked off, leaving him. She had an impulse to look over her shoulder and see if he was following, but she resisted it. She wasn't about to show any kind of weakness toward him. Not in her moment of triumph.
But by the time she got to the river her hands were shaking and her legs felt weak.
She found a large flat rock and immediately fell onto it, listening to the gurgling of the brook, the soft whisper of the wind, feeling the heat of the sun on her skin.
She closed her eyes.
That bastard!
She didn't know how, but she was going to get revenge on him. Somehow, some way, she was going to pay him back for this insult.
She wasn't going to tell Kurt about it either ... this was her battle.
She must have dozed.
The next thing she felt was a pair of hands touching her face. Rolf! she thought and instantly was sitting up, a cry of anger rushing up out of her throat.
"OH!" she cried, finding, to her surprise, that she wasn't where ever she'd thought she had been ... and was instead on a rock that was tilted ... and now she was losing her balance and the river was right there and she was falling ... falling ... falling....
"Oh help me," she cried, but even as Kurt grabbed her wrist, she fell. He couldn't stop her. Nor could he prevent her from pulling him in.
They both cried out, and then, with a splash, they were in the river.
"Oh no," cried Kurt, shooting to the surface.
She had instantly lost her anger, and she'd actually managed to put things together rather quickly, as to just what it was that was happening.
For one thing ... she was wet.
For another, it wasn't Rolf after all ... it was Kurt.
For another, she felt awfully silly.
Kurt was laughing now.
"Here," he called, "give me your hand."
The current was swift, but the water wasn't deep, and with him helping her, she was easily able to walk back to the rock, and soon they were both perched atop it once more, shivering in their wet clothes.
"We look like flood victims," he grumbled, good naturedly. He was studying her up and down. 'What, if I may be so bold, happened?"
"Oh," she said, feeling more and more sheepish, "I was just dreaming, I suppose, and you startled me."
He nodded, looking at her quizzically. "I really had you figured to be more stable than this, Anna," he said with mock disapproval.
"I know, Kurt. I'm truly sorry. Do you feel that there's still a place for me in the new Reich?"
He smiled.
"There's a place for you in my life. Is that good enough?"
"Even though I pull you into the river and ruin your clothes?"
He laughed.
"I'm not ruined. I'm just wet. That's all."
She sighed. "How are we going to explain this? It's going to look awfully strange for us to come back to the camp when we're both drenched."
"Not too strange. But maybe you're right."
He looked around, and his attention was caught by a low-hanging branch, leaning out over the river.
"Our clothes would dry much more rapidly if we took them off and hung them on that branch," he suggested slyly.
She felt a blush rise in her cheeks.
"What's the matter Anna," Kurt teased, touching her cheek. She brought her hand up to his, pressing it closer to her.
"Is something wrong," Kurt asked her.
"No. Except that I'm just a little ... embarrassed ... I suppose."
"Are you? Why? Are you afraid of me?"
"No. You know I'm not."
"What then? I've already seen you naked. And you're beautiful too. You know that, don't you?"
She blushed even harder.
"What's the problem then," he asked.
She almost told him about Rolf, but she decided to wait. Why, she wasn't sure. But she felt that she wanted to try and deal with it on her own first. After all, she was supposed to be developing into an independent woman. Such a woman didn't run to a man at the first sign of difficulties.
Kurt was looking deeply into her eyes now.
"Are you all right," he asked her. "You seem troubled."
She felt the mood pass, smiled, and said, "No. I'm fine. Really I am."
Wordless, he began to unbutton her blouse. She looked down at his fingers moving with deft skill. Those fingers would one day hold a scalpel. Those fingers would one day save lives.
He pulled her blouse from her shoulders and then eased it down her arms.
Standing up on the rock, he pulled the branch down to him and draped her blouse over one of the twigs. He took his own shirt off and hung it up next to her blouse.
"Be careful, Kurt," she cautioned. "Don't fall in again."
"It won't matter. I can only get soaking wet once," he replied.
Then, he reached down to her hips and unzipped her light grey skirt. "Easy now, he cautioned in his turn, "just slip out of it. Don't you go falling in again either."
He pulled it down her legs. She felt his eyes on her body ... felt them boring into the space between her legs. She was wearing cotton underwear, but the material was soaking wet and as she glanced down to see where he was looki, she noted that her thatch of soft blonde pubic hair was clearly outlined against the wet material.
She felt a blush rise again in her cheeks, and almost involuntarily, she reached between her legs to shield herself.
He laughed.
"You're shy. I think's that cute in a woman."
"Don't make fun of me," she told him, nonetheless finding his attention quite thrilling.
"I wouldn't think of making fun of you, Anna darling. I'd gladly make love to you, but make fun of you ... never! Never!"
Then, she heard the buckle of his belt rattling. She saw from the edges of her vision his pants coming down.
She looked up.
His underwear was as wet as hers. But the material wasn't pressed up against his pubic hair.
Something was preventing it.
Something inside his underwear.
Something stiff ... long ... hard ... throbbing....
She remembered it ... she remembered how it felt. She remembered it sliding up inside her ... the pain ... the hot, horrible pain ... and the pleasure ... oh, the pleasure. She remembered that most of all, and it was the pleasure that she looked forward to now with such anticipation.
He hung her skirt and his pants on the branch, said, "The rest of your clothes," as he reached his hand down for them, and shyly, feeling her cheeks glowing, she unhooked her bra and then, as her breasts popped free, she pulled her cotton underpants down over her thighs.
The breeze across her wet skin was cool, but as the moisture evaporated, she felt warm again. The day was perfect. There were no clouds still, only the sounds of occasional birds through the woods, and, hopefully, no more interruptions.
She handed him the last items of clothing, and then, feeling an impulse to close her legs over the tender lips of her young, still moist pussy, she decided instead to fight that impulse head on, and opened them to him.
He pulled his undershorts down, and as he gazed fondly at her exposed body, she gasped at the size of his cock.
"What were you expecting," he laughed. "Flowers?"
"No ... but it was dark the last time ... I could only feel it."
"Ah ... a wonderful suggestion." He knelt down beside her on the rock. "I think you should feel it again."
She reached for it, but as she touched it, she quickly pulled her hand away.
"What's the matter?" asked Kurt, still amused by her uncertain behaivor.
"I ... I ... it feels so strange."
"To you maybe. To me, it feels quite normal. But I'm sure you can understand that, can't you?"
She smiled, reached for it again, and this time, despite the fact that it still felt strange and alien to her, she kept her fingers around it.
He started to let his fingers glide over her soft, dry skin. Each place that he touched on her started to tingle deliciously, and as he started to move his fingers closer and closer to her crotch, she felt a sense of urgency rising up from somewhere deep inside her. A feeling that she knew she would eventually have to yield to. A feeling that she knew could easily consume her, take control of her and dominate her.
His fingers were down at the top edge of her pubic bush.
"You are so soft. So amazingly soft," he said. "Have I ever told you that I think you are beautiful? That I think you are gorgeous? That you drive me wild."
"Mmmmmmmm ... I think you might have said something like that to me the last time we made love ... but I certainly don't mind hearing it again."
He touched the wet space between her cunt lips. He didn't allow the tip of his finger to penetrate, instead keeping it gliding right along the surface. But it felt exquisite. "Oh, Kurt ... that's wonderful ... I love it ... it's wonderful ... oh ... don't stop. Please don't stop."
"Anna," he said, smiling. "I'm just gettting started.
CHAPTER TWO
He started to press down onto her clitoris. She felt the sensations surge rapidly back through her body charging her brain, making her think things and feel things that she'd have considered improper for a young lady to be thinking and feeling only two weeks ago.
But much had changed since then. Kurt had taken a liking to her. They'd been involved in several of the same discussion groups. He'd invited her for a walk. He'd invited her to sit with him at lectures. He'd invited her for more walks. Walks that lasted later and later ... and then....
"OH!" she cried out, softly, her body stiffening nevertheless. "That's so sensitive, you have to be careful," she told him as his fingertips crossed over the surface of her clitoris.
"You love it though, don't you, my darling? You love feeling my fingers on your body, in your body, crossing all over you body...."
"Oh. yes! Of course I love it. Nothing makes me feel the way that you do."
"Are you ready?"
"Oh ... no ... not yet. I want to feel you play with me some more. Please?"
"My dearest, I'll do whatever you ask of me."
He pressed the tip of his fingers harder now on her clitoris. She could feel him taking in the small bud of aroused flesh, and under his careful attention, the thing started to swell up and stiffen, much the same as his cock.
"You're so hard," she said, squeezing his cock some more. The thing was sticking almost straight out from his body. All along the surface, deep blue veins stood out in sharp relief. She could see it throbbing from the pulse of his blood.
It was exciting. She'd never imagined that it could ever be this much fun.
He was starting to concentrate right at the opening to her pussy now. She felt him opening her body ... felt him pressing harder and harder against the soft, wet membranes that lay beneath the thick, pouting lips of her cunt. He pulled them apart, pulled her inner lips open as well, and now, she felt one of his fingers starting to slide straight inside her body.
"Oh...." she moaned. It hurt, but it had a warmth to the pain ... a feeling of satisfaction and fulfillment. It was something that she didn't want to stop. Not for any reason.
It felt like he was filling her body as full as she could possibly be stuffed, but in reality, he was only burying his finger up to the second knuckle. He was pressing against the rim of her pussy hole, however, and each time that she felt the pressure from his finger, it was more intense.
He was slowly opening her pussy ... wide. He slid a second finger into her. A third.
She was rolling her hips now ... raising them up to him ... trying to ease the pressure and the tension ... but the opening to her pussy was stretched farther than she had ever felt it stretched before in her life ... and it hurt.
"Oh...." she cried, her body shuddering.
"Am I hurting you?" he asked, concern filling his voice?
"Oh ... yes ... but I don't mind."
He pulled his fingers back out of her cunt, and the feeling of emptiness that he left inside her was far more painful than the physical sensation of pain.
"No ... put them back ... please ... I want to get used to you. I want to feel everything that you can do to me ... and I want to learn to enjoy it. Please ... please Kurt. Don't disappoint me."
He placed two fingers back into her pussy, but he seemed reluctant to push her beyond her limits.
"More." she gasped, finally. "I want to feel more."
At last, the third finger slipped back into her once more. Her hips raised up to meet him. trying to force his fingers deeper and deeper into her cunt.
He pulled his hand back.
"Anna ... don't force yourself tou 'ast. You'll get used to it. But don't try to go too far."
"Oh Kurt." she said, gasping for breath now. "I can't go too far with you. Don't you understand that? I need you. I don't care what you make me feel. I need you. Please. Don't disappoint me."
He pressed harder against her ... she felt the heat rising all through the membranes of her aroused pussy.
The juices that were being secreted from inside her now flowed all over the surface of her lips, coating his fingers and his hand.
She squeezed his cock harder, not trying to arouse him as much as she was simply using it as a release.
Like a leather strap placed between the teeth of a surgery patient when there's no anesthetic.
She squeezed again, and as she did so, he slowly started to rotate his hand at the wrist, keeping the angle of his arm the same, simply turning the three fingers around inside her.
As they slowly turned, he opened them a little farther than they had been before.
She felt the tips of each finger as it dug more deeply into the membranes of her inner cunt walls.
Her muscles deep inside her body were reacting to every touch, every caress, every tactile stimulation.
She started to feel sensations now that were beyond description.
They simply carried her aloft on a cloud cushion of incredible pleasure and ecstasy.
Strange images. Sharp images. She didn't want to turn them off, but she found it painful to look at them. It was as if some unknown part of her mind was suddenly working on her ... sending impulses to the rest of her body, increasing the level of her arousal to a point where she was no longer even aware of it. She was simply reacting to it.
She continued to moan ... she continued to groan, and she continued to roll her hips and grind her buttocks against the rock. The sun on her naked flesh now was warm and comforting. She felt as if she was at total peace with the world. She felt as if she was drifting in a timeless state of perfection, that nothing could mar the beauty of the moment.
Nothing except for the strange collage of images that continued to rush like an ill-wind through her brain.
Images of pain. Whips cracking across naked flesh ... people crying ... people suffering....
What was happening here? She couldn't imagine it ... she couldn't explain it ... but as her level of arousal continued to rise, like a fever raging out of control, she started to slam her hips upward harder and harder, trying everything that she could manage to try and increase the sensation inside her pussy.
"More...." she gasped.
"But Anna," Kurt said, rather perplexed.
"My breasts. Touch them. Make me feel them."
She felt his hands on her breasts before she was even aware of what it was she wanted from him.
Then, as his fingers crossed over her erect nipples again and again, she realized what it was. They were aching for attention. Stern attention.
"Squeeze them. Please," she said, her voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper now.
He paused, she opened her eyes and saw the dubious expression on his face, and for a moment she actually felt impatient. Why wouldn't he give her what she was asking for?
"Please." she pleaded.
Finally, he complied with her wishes.
She felt his fingers on her breasts ... she felt the nipples beginning to be pinched between his thumb and forefinger, first the left nipple, then the right nipple, then, as he squeezed her large, well-formed breasts together, both at once.
She closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath, and waited. She wanted to feel more. And more. And more.
"Push me." she moaned softly.
"Push you?" he asked. "I don't understand."
"Push me," she repeated, more annoyed this time.
"Push you where?"
"Push me to my limits. Make me beg you to stop. And then don't stop. For anything."
"Anna ... this is strange. I don't think you should be saying things like that."
"Kurt! Don't argue with me! Please."
She felt desperate. Was that her voice, asking for such treatment? Could it possibly be true? Was she saying to him that she wanted him to hurt her?
He started to pinch her more forcefully now.
She threw her head all the way back. The tips of her long blonde hair dangled in the rushing water. The sun beat on her naked breasts ... her naked thighs, on her face....
She felt alive. More alive than she'd ever felt.
"Play with me," she gasped, squeezing his cock as hard as her fingers would allow. "I am," he replied.
"No ... down there ... between my legs. My cunt. Play with my cunt. Hard. I want to feel you there as well."
He looked dubiously at her once more, seeming to be uncertain as to how he should proceed.
But she felt him taking her clit between his thumb and forefinger of the hand that he already had down there between her legs, and he began to pinch it.
She gasped in pain again ... it was a sudden sharp burst of sensation, one that she felt cut through her body like a knife, slicing her brain free of her sensations. More ... more ... that's all she could think of now. She'd never dreamed that there could be such forces locked up inside her ... never dreamed that she could be driven to such maddening excesses of desire.
But now ... all she wanted from Kurt was to feel. TO FEEL! It didn't matter what anymore. She just wanted sensations to wrack her body, to charge her nerves, to fill her pussy with the warmth that she was only now beginning to realize had always been denied her.
"Harder." she gasped, uncertain whether or not she was talking about her clit or her nipples or both.
Or perhaps neither. Perhaps she had something else in mind. Something that she hadn't quite identified yet.
He pinched.
Hard.
She could feel the hard chip of flesh between her pussy lips distorting out of shape.
He squeezed, he pulled, and then, as the slick surface of her clit proved to be too frictionless for his fingers to maintain a grip on, her clit slipped between his fingertips. But as it did so. the edge of his fingernail scraped over the exposed surface.
She screamed and he pulled his hand back in horror.
"Oh, my darling,'" he said.."I didn't mean to hurt you. Please, forgive me. Please."
"Do it again," she said. "What?" he gasped, astonished. "Do it again."
Was that her voice? It didn't even sound like her. as if she was trying to disguise the sound of her voice so that perhaps she could fool even herself ... for surely, she herself wouldn't be asking such bizarre requests....
Would she?
"Do it again." she said in that same curiously flat monotone. Her hips were shaking. Her arms and legs were shaking. As her fingers tightened around Kurt's cock, they were shaking.
She pulled on his cock.
He gasped.
She pulled again.
He made a strange noise. She hadn't done much in the way of exploration of his body, but now, she let her fingers move back down the stiff shaft, all the way to his balls.
She could feel the soft, mushy glands bobbing around inside the sack.
She knew that they were sensitive. That they were tender. That they were very vulnerable.
She just had to remember Rolf earlier that day to know that.
She was very careful with Kurt's balls. She had no desire to hurt the fragile things.
But then, she moved further behind, all the way to his asshole.
Kurt began to move around a little more, opening his legs, repositioning himself in order that she could get a better approach to that whole area.
"Oh ... Anna. That's so good. You have no idea. It's just so good. I love it. Truly I do. I can't stand it, it's so good."
She was tickling around the rim of his asshole, pressing into it, and as he opened his legs as far as they would go, she decided to be daring and began to press her finger up inside him!
It frightened her a moment, but only because she'd never done anything like that before, and, in fact, had never really thought about doing anything like that.
As her finger moved deeper into his asshole, he pressed his fingers back into her cunt.
She cried out, loudly, not even caring if there was anyone within earshot. Let them come, she thought, surprised at the thrill of excitement the idea gave her.
Let them come and watch, and approve, and let them all know that Anna is a woman now. She is no longer a little girl.
He was pressing his fingers as hard into her cunt as he possibly could.
Her own finger was sticking up inside his asshole, driving him mad.
It was time.
They couldn't wait any longer.
"Now," she said. "Now, Kurt. I want you. I want you now."
He looked into her eyes. He was such a gentle person. So kind. So caring.
What a shame that those were not exactly the qualities that she wanted right at the moment.
And then, a terrible image crossed her thoughts. It was Rolf.
His smiling face. His brilliant blonde hair. His strong, muscular body. He was smiling at her as he'd smiled back on the trail. What did he want, she wondered, to make him smile that way.
But more to the point, why was she thinking of him now. Why now, of all times?
But then, Kurt was straddling her body.
She looked up at him, saw that he had his cock firmly gripped in his hand, and was guiding it steadily toward her pussy.
She opened her legs to give him the easiest access to her body. He started to lower his hips down to hers.
She felt the head of his cock touching her.
It was stiff.
It was throbbing.
The glans touched her clit.
She moaned.
Her muscles all jerked wildly, from her feet all the way to the back of her neck. She could feel the reaction slamming her down against the rock and up against his powerful chest.
"Ohhhhhhhhh ... o hhh hhhhhhh ... ohhhhhhhh...." she moaned, rolling her hips, indeed, her entire body all over the surface of the rock ... at least as far as she was able to do so.
"Oh ... bury it in me, Kurt."
"Do you want it?"
"Yes."
"How much."
"Now."
"How much do you want it?"
"I'm going out of my mind."
"Are you?"
He was teasing her, the bastard.
"Kurt," she begged, whimpering now.
"Are you all right, Anna," he said, still smiling at her ... still teasing her.
She let out a long, deep, passionate moan at the first contact.
"You like this?"
"More, oh God, please ... more."
He pulled back.
"NOOOOOO...." she cried out.
Then, he touched the head of his cock to her clit.
The swollen bud of nerves was throbbing from the mindlessly awesome sensations that were boiling out of the depths of her pussy. Her juices were everywhere.
"Oh ... more ... more ... more...."
"How much more?"
"Stick it in me. Please, stick it in me."
She was begging him, and she didn't care. She didn't care who knew it. She'd humiliate herself ... she'd do anything to feel that monster pole of his ramming into the soft, wet membranes of her cunt. She needed it. She couldn't believe how much she needed it, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she did. She needed to feel it slamming into her.
Spreading her.
Opening her.
Twisting her.
Filling her.
Ripping through her.
Plunging into her.
In and out of her.
He lowered the head of his cock to the opening of her cunt hole. He was grasping the stiff pole firmly now, holding it tightly in his fingers.
He placed the glans into her hole and began to move it back and forth with his hand, stretching the rim of her hole as he did so.
His hips moved a little farther into her cunt, but then rapidly pulled back out.
"Is that what I'm doing?" he asked, grinning at her.
"Oh ... yes ... yes ... yes ... yes...."
She felt like she was going crazy.
A vast space was opening up inside her, and if she didn't have it filled, and soon, she thought for certain that her body might actually begin to dissolve.
He placed the head of his cock farther yet in her hole, and this time, he left it there.
She rammed her hips up, and as she did so. She could feel the shaft sink around her lips and her cunt.
"OHHHHHHH YESSSSSSS!!!" she gasped, shaking her body madly in all directions. Her buttocks were scraping over the surface of the rock, she was moaning ... groaning ... and now ... he too was starting to feel the arousal.
She felt his hips move forward; she felt him driving his cock down the rest of the way into her.
She screamed. It was loud. It was long. It was passionate.
She dug her fingernails into his back. She scraped them over his back. He cried out. She cried out. They both cried out.
Their bodies moved in a violent choreography of lust. His cock driving her ... her cunt receiving him.
Her juices were flowing everywhere. Deeper and deeper drove his cock, and every thrust forced more of her thick, hot juice to the surface.
"Oh God ... oh God ... oh God ... oh God ... oh God...." she cried, over and over, falling into the rhythm of her fucking as she spoke the words, a litany of passion that had no meaning now beyond the union of cock and cunt, of body to body....
They continued like that for what seemed to be an eternity. Time ceased to have meaning for Anna.
She felt only the driving pulse of Kurt's cock ... the rest of the world had fallen away for her.
But they weren't alone.
Beyond the riverbank, from the seclusion of the trees, eyes were watching.
Scornful eyes.
Mocking eyes.
Eyes that took in the scene, registering it with a deep profound hatred.
A hatred that went far beyond the simple rejection that he'd suffered earlier that day on the trail. That hadn't surprised him, actually.
No ... this was a hatred that went to the core of what he considered himself to be ... and what he considered a true German to be.
One thing was certain.
The swine making love to that exquisite vision out there on the rock was no true German. He had no strength of character. He was weak. He was soft. He had notions of mercy where only stern strength would suffice.
But he would show them both. And he would prevail.
CHAPTER THREE
"Hurry, Anna. We'll be late," Kurt prodded. It was the final dinner. Tomorrow the Youth Festival would be over. They would return to their respective villages.
But they would never be the same. Anna knew that. Kurt knew that.
In the fall, the two of them would be going to Berlin. Kurt, to serve on the National Committee of the Hitler Youth. Anna, in and advisory role. Both of them to begin their medical studies. It was a heady thought. Berlin! The center of an empire. An empire that was growing bigger and bigger each day. None dared oppose her. Perhaps there would be no war after all. The Fuhrer seemed to be accomplishing the national plan bloodlessly. Perhaps the world had taken note of the legitimate German claims after all.
Anna wished that she could feel the same excitement when she looked at Kurt.
She loved him.
Of that she was certain.
But somehow, she sensed that there was something missing.
Some spark, some sensation that would charge her being ... something that would overwhelm her ... that would carry her to heights unimaginable and leave her there, floating....
They'd made love many times now. She was already starting to think of herself as experienced ... but there was something that she felt she hadn't discovered about sex ... and whatever it was, she knew that she would know it if she ever encountered it. But she feared that she wouldn't find it with Kurt.
Depressing, indeed, because Kurt was undeniably an important person, and he would most likely become more so as he continued his education and joined the ranks of professionals. It was important to the Reich that they develope a professional class that came from the Nazi era itself, rather than depending on people who predated the party's rise to power. One could never trust such a committment.
But with people like Anna and Kurt ... there would never be any doubt concerning their faith and loyalty to the party and to the Fatherland.
"Anna," Kurt called impatiently from the outer room of her cottage. "If you're not ready soon. I'm going to be late for the opening speech."
She sighed. He was starting to annoy her. "Why don't you go on without me," she called. "I'm not going to be much longer."
"But...."
"Seriously, Kurt. Go ahead. I know you have to deliver the opening speech."
"But I wanted you to hear it."
"I've heard it already, Kurt. Don't you know? I mean, you've only read it to me fifteen dozen different times, getting the delivery down properly."
He sounded hurt when he spoke again.
"Well ... could you please not be late. Nothing's more distracting than to have people walking while you're speaking."
"Fine. I'll wait till you're finished, then I'll come in."
She knew that she was being a bitch, and the worst thing was, she just didn't care. He was, after all, starting to be a nuisance.
He left without saying good-bye.
She studied herself in the mirror.
Why was she turning so cold to him? They'd enjoyed a wonderful experience together, and she would have nothing but good memories of this time.
But there was something in the way that he assumed to own her ... that he assumed they would be together. She'd accepted the advisory role that he'd arranged for her in Berlin ... and that perhaps was the reason. She didn't like the idea that she was indebted to him, and perhaps she was attempting to place some distance between the two of them for that reason. Fair? Not really. But she couldn't seem to help herself.
She thought of Rolf.
She tried not to think of Rolf ... but she thought of him anyway.
If Kurt was annoying, Rolf was infuriating.
She couldn't think of a person that she'd ever despised as much.
He was arrogant in the extreme, he was opinionated without effect, and he was self-assured without reason.
Yet ... for all this ... she thought of him.
"Look at me, Anna." he'd said to her only this morning, cornering her in one of the corridors of the lecture hall, "look at my face. My features, compare them with your own ... and then compare them with Kurt. Who is more pure? Tell me, Anna. Don't pretend that it doesn't matter to you. It matters to anyone who is truly German."
She thought of Rolfs blue eyes ... his blond hair....
Kurt's hair was curly and black.
But what did that mean?
After all. the Fuhrer himself had dark hair. And there was no purer embodiment of the German spirit than the Fuhrer, was there?
She shoved Rolf out of her thoughts, but he returned, just as he'd refused to go away that morning.
"Don't turn me down, Anna," he'd said to her, menacingly. "I don't take it lightly."
She'd thought back to the day that she'd kicked him in the woods. She'd made a joke about it ... one that she knew was in poor taste ... one that assaulted his manhood....
He'd smiled, but he'd said nothing. It was a hard smile. A cold smile. It was one that she remembered now, with chills running down her back.
She brushed her hair, finished dressing, and then looked at herself in the mirror.
The new German spirit, she thought gaily to herself. Indeed.
The door to the cottage opened.
Kurt, returning to make a nuisance of himself again?
"Who is it?" she called out. She knew that it couldn't be her roommates. They'd all gone to the dinner, and were most likely even now listening with rapt attention as Kurt gave the opening address. They all considered her the luckiest girl in the camp, that Kurt had chosen her to be his own. They couldn't imagine why she didn't seem to share their ferver.
"Who's there?" she called out again.
No response.
Had she been hearing things?
She walked out to the other room ... and there was no one there.
"Who's out here?" she asked, noting a catch in her voice, one put there by a sudden pang of uncertainty. Something felt wrong. Nothing she could touch ... nothing she could have explained ... it just felt ... wrong....
A hand clamped over her mouth.
"Wha-!" she cried, before a knee rammed hard up into her kidney, shutting her up.
She felt as if her body was coming apart. Whoever was attacking her, they were being as hard and as brutal as they could.
Fingers dug into her with a vengeance.
She screamed ... but it was a silent scream. There was no sound, because none could escape the hard hand that was clamped down tightly over her mouth.
She had no idea how many there were. She only knew that she was completely powerless to free herself.
She pulled against the arms that were holding her tightly.
Then, she felt a hand ramming up between her legs.
It was a hard, vicious thrust, driving straight up between her thighs, ramming right into her pussy.
She cried out once more, and once more there was no sound. The arms were powerful, holding her almost like it was a machine, not a person.
Now, her arms were pulled behind her. At the same time, she was able to definitely determine that there were two men. She felt more than a pair of hands on her body. But of course, she was dazed enough that she wasn't able to fully determine what was happening to her.
She might well have imagined it, she thought to herself.
She felt some kind of cord wrapping around her wrists, as her arms were pinned viciously behind her.
What was happening, she wondered, panic rising in her till she feared it would choke her.
How could this be happening?
She felt hands on her shoulders now. Hands moving up the back of her neck.
She struggled, hard, but then, something happened that took all the fight out of her.
One of the men slapped her.
Hard.
Directly across her breasts.
The pain was the most excruciating thing that she'd ever felt in her life.
She screamed, and this time, the sound came out of her mouth, but only for a second.
They pulled a gag around her face and tied it as tightly as they possibly could.
Then ... and only then, did they allow her to see them.
She felt their hands on her body turning her around.
She was staring at them now ... staring at the black leather jackets that they wore, staring at the black leather hoods that they had draped over their faces.
She "felt like she was in the middle of a nightmare from which she might never return.
She'd already stopped trying to understand what was happening, convinced that no understanding was possible.
She simply allowed them to do whatever they wanted. She had no strength to resist and if she did, it wouldn't have mattered.
The bond around her wrists was far too strong for her to have any hope of escaping.
One of the men, the taller of the two, nodded to the other. So far, they'd uttered not the first word. The second man moved around behind her and grabbed her firmly by the shoulders.
The man in front of her reached in to his pocket and pulled out a knife.
Her eyes widened. She started to scream into the gag, her body strained violently agains the restraining hands behind her, but it was to no avail.
She watched the sharp point of the blade moving toward her.
No ... she thought, nooooo, this was insane. This made no sense ... no sense at all....
The blade was moving toward her breasts ... specifically, the nipple of her right breast.
She watched the distance diminish ... growing less ... less ... less ... less....
The point was touching the outside of her sweater now.
She felt it beginning to push into the mound of flesh.
He pulled on the material of her sweater, lifting it away from the surface of her breast.
He sliced straight through the material, and when it pulled back into place, there was almost a perfect hole, through which the cup of her bra was clearly visible.
He did the same with her left breast.
He then pulled her sweater up to her neck, slipped the blade beneath the straps over her shoulders, severed them, and sliced the two cups apart from each other.
Her breasts popped free. They were large, firm, tight. The flesh rippled and shook with a thousand tiny tremors.
He lowered her sweater again, and each of her breasts was protruding, naked, through the holed cut in her sweater.
The hands tightened on her shoulders.
The knife moved back toward her body.
She started to struggle, started to shake, to jerk madly against her captor ... but as the point of the knife once more drew near to her breast, she stopped, fearing that a sudden movement in the wrong direction would plunge that deadly blade right into her body.
She was nearly rigid now.
She couldn't control herself, but she didn't dare to move.
She could only shake from terror.
The point touched her nipple. It began to press into it.
She felt a sharp stab of pain rising inside the mound of flesh.
The point of the blade continued to move into her.
It grew more and more hot ... the pain rising....
She felt her bladder give away, seized by a wave of fear that went beyond anything that she'd ever felt in her entire life. She scarcely noticed the result.
Abruptly, he pulled the blade back, even before they'd broken the skin.
Was this just an elaborate scare tactic? It seemed hardly possible, but she couldn't imagine anyone doing something like this for any specific reason. Why would anyone try to kill her? If that's what they were doing....
He unzipped her skirt, let the material unravel from her body and fall to the floor at her feet.
She felt terribly exposed and vulnerable.
She saw the blade moving toward her crotch now. Slowly ... steadily ... no fast, sudden, unexpected moves....
She felt the wetness of her panties ... she knew what she'd done ... she tasted the humiliation, but there was nothing that she could do.
Hands were on her hips now, hands were pulling at her panties.
The blade of the knife, moving down between her legs ... She held her breath.
The sharp edge of the blade, moving now over the material of her panties.
She felt the incredibly sharp edge actually cutting through the material.
How was it that he was avoiding the tender membranes of her cunt slit?
She held her breath, not daring to move ... not daring to make a tremor of the slightest degree.
The material opened. She felt fingers on her cunt.
She felt fingers moving up into her cunt.
She felt fingers harshly spreading the lips of her cunt ... ramming deep up inside her hole ... stretching the walls....
Every movement was hard.
Every sensation was harsh and sharp.
She felt pain like she'd never known.
She felt herself starting to lose her mind. She wanted it to be over, and if that meant that she had to lose her mind ... had to leave the real world ... she was on the verge of doing that.
Hard thrusts up into her cunt now. Harder stretching movements as his fingers slid in and out of her hole. He stepped back at last. She watched, still not comprehending the enormity of the situation ... still not realizing what was happening ... finding that her mind was turning into a dull haze, through which no thoughts managed to appear ... He removed his belt.
She watched, feeling as if it was happening to someone else. This wasn't here. This wasn't real. This was a dream world ... a place where anything was possible because none of it ever really happened ... and soon, she'd wake up, and everything would be normal....
He swung the belt, bringing it down hard across her breasts.
She went rigid, and her mind turned to confetti.
He swung again ... and again ... and again.
He pointed to her crotch, she felt a knee ramming up between her thighs, she felt her body leaning back, and then, watching him swing, she saw the belt flying through space toward the gaping slit of her pussy, as if it was in slow motion.
It hit ... directly on her clitoris.
There was no pain. There was no feeling at all.
At first.
Then, as if the full weight of the sensation was too excessive for her nerves to cope with, it gradually began to build inside her.
Again and again the belt descended.
Again and again and again she felt her body pushed to regions that defied description.
Again and again she found herself saying 'Just let me die ... just let me die ... '
But it didn't end.
When he'd finished with the belt, he threw it aside, unzipped his pants and once more nodded to his partner.
She was turned around.
Her body was quivering all through it ... every muscle was shaking from a series of fine, rapid tremors ... all spastic ... all beyond her control. She was like a limp rag doll ... she had no concept now of what she was doing ... only what was being done to her.
No ... of course they wouldn't fuck her in her cunt.
That might feel good.
That might provide her with a minor amount of pleasuse among all the pain and humiliation.
She felt a cock touching her.
She felt it rubbing over her buttocks.
She felt it pressing against her asshole.
She felt it pressing harder and harder.
Her asshole was tight.
It was throbbing.
She felt her asshole throbbing.
She felt it spreading as the head of that cock began to shove against her harder.
She felt like she was going to be ripped apart.
The ring of muscle that was her asshole was clenched tightly shut.
She didn't think anything would be able to open it without destroying or tearing it.
But he shoved.
He shoved hard.
She felt him shoving.
He used greater and greater force.
The muscle in her asshole started to throb with mindlessly intense pains.
He continued to shove.
Now his partner was shoving against her shoulders, pushing her back to him.
She felt her asshole quivering.
The muscle was still clenched tightly shut, still resisting the intrusion.
Then, without warning, the man in front of her removed one of his hands from her shoulder and reached down to her breast.
He grabbed it as hard as he could, and he pulled as hard as he could.
She was convinced that he'd pulled it off.
She felt the reaction rip through her entire body.
All of her muscles lurched violently .
And in that one instant, that one fleeting moment, he managed to force the tip of his cock into her asshole ... just a little, but it was enough.
Enough to send yet another burst of pain ripping through her body.
The cock was a monster.
She'd thought that Kurt's cock was big ... that it had made her feel like she was filled up ... but this cock was more than anything she'd ever dreamed could exist.
Of course, her asshole was a virgin hole, and by this time, her cunt had started to get used to the idea of having a long, hard, thick object inside it.
Still, she had a feeling that if this cock was to ram itself into her cunt now, it would still hurt ... still feel about three or four sizes too big for her to cope with.
He was inside her ass now, and that was his cue to shove it all the way in, to keep hammering home with the thing until he got it all the way in.
He was burying it now.
The nerves to her asshole muscles were still firing ... still conducting their reflexive messages , from the lower brain ... and they were telling her muscle to tighten up ... to clench shut.
There was no way that it was going to happen, but the messages kept firing her muscle anyway.
She felt the enormous strain as the ring of. muscle kept trying in vain to close, kept pressing all around the shaft of his cock ... only to remain opened, and only to add to the pain that was filling her body.
He was all the way inside her ass now.
She felt his sack of balls rubbing against the crack in her ass.
She was trying to keep her breathing steady, hoping that there might be some way for her to relax enough to avoid serious damage to her asshole.
She kept focusing on her asshole, kept trying to minimize the pain ... nothing worked.
He started to drive his cock in and out of her now....
In and out.
Out and in.
Harder.
Deeper.
Plowing all the way down inside her.
She wanted to scream.
She wanted to die!
It seemed to last for hours.
There was nothing that would make it stop.
He fucked her ass with long, powerful, slow strokes, keeping up a constant pressure on her body, never pausing, never speeding up ... keeping the tempo the same....
She began to almost get used to it.
It seemed impossible ... but yes, she was, more or less. The pain didn't seem to be as intense as it had been.
Or maybe it was just that her asshole was finally being stretched enough to make room for his cock.
She didn't know.
She was past caring.
She was very nearly past consciousness.
Then, she felt a change in pace.
She felt him leaning into her with a little more urgency.
She felt his cock starting to work faster.
She felt it scraping over the rim of her asshole with greater pressure.
Faster.
Faster.
Faster.
And still faster.
She heard him breathing.
Thus far, there had been no sound from either of them. No words ... nothing that would have given them a clue to their voices and their identities.
She could hear him breathing though, and maybe it gave her no clue as to his identity, she could tell by the sound that her ordeal would soon be over.
He was breathing hard.
Harder.
Harder.
His cock was moving faster ... faster ... faster....
And then, he came. It was a massive burst.
She could feel it shooting into her ass. The sensation was one of juicy heat. It filled her.
She was able to feel each wad as it burst from the center of his cock.
He slammed his hips against her with every wave that shook his body, propelling his jism into her and immediately spread the juicy white sperm all over the surface of his cock, forming a smooth, lubricating layer of cum between his cock and the rim of her asshole.
That eased the pain just a little bit.
But he continued to pump into her ... and she felt more and more jism oozing into her.
She was dizzy.
She couldn't think.
All she could do was feel ... and what she was feeling, with every stroke, was that at long last, his cock was wilting.
The pressure ... that awful pressure, finally was easing.
He continued to pump his cock in and out of her asshole, but finally, it got too soft for him to keep it in, and she felt the muscles of her asshole finally close tight once more.
She thought, it's over. It's over. It's over.
But almost at once, she felt his arms reaching underneath her armpits ... grabbing her tight....
He leaned backwards, pulling her with him.
As she fell back ... her spine pressing against his chest, she felt her legs open. .
Her pussy was aiming right at the man's partner.
She was too weak now to resist.
She looked down the length of her body, focused her eyes on the man in front of her, and at that moment, she knew she was going to die.
He was unzipping his pants. He was taking out his cock. She stared at the thing. It was enormous!
She had no idea how big it was, but she would have bet anything that it far exceeded the cock that had just been in her ass.
She felt her legs trying to shut tight again, but she was too weak.
There was nothing for her to do but to take whatever he gave her.
And he gave her a lot.
And as he drew nearer to her, she could see that it was going to be an incredible amount that he would give her.
Incredible indeed!
* * * * *
Kurt was angry.
Anna hadn't bothered to show for the dinner at all, hadn't bothered to acknowledge the honor that he'd bestowed on her by taking her to Berlin with him ... she'd completely missed his speech and she hadn't bothered to even make an appearence.
He was hurt, and he was mad, and as he walked back through the camp now, there was a variety of images that filled his head.
He imagined, of course, that they would have a fight.
There'd been tension growing between them lately anyway ... a fight seemed to be what she'd been working for anyway. She wanted a fight, well, he'd give her one.
There was a rush of anger sweeping over him now. He felt his fists ball up, felt them clenching tightly against his palms ... he felt the muscles tensing....
-And suddenly, in him mind, she was there, and all the strange frustration that he'd been feeling for the past two months boiled to the surface, and he saw himself reach out to her, clasp her tightly around the throat, grip her hard enough that fear flickered in her beautiful eyes, pull her to him, squeeze ... squeeze ... SQUEEZE-!
He knew ... at heart, he knew the secret to her dissatisfaction. He knew that she felt he was too calm ... too tame....
She admired Rolf ... secretly, in a place within herself buried so deep that she wasn't even aware of it.
But he knew.
He'd seen her eyes follow the tall, muscular blond across the meeting hall ... he'd seen the strange hunger that seemed to twist her mouth slightly.
He'd burned ... he'd seethed ... he'd discovered no way of overcoming the problem.
He was who he was ... and if it wasn't good enough for Anna, then to hell with her! He was on his way to his own destiny, and if she was uninterested in following him, that, he'd decided, was her problem.
The cottage was ahead.
He'd left her in front of her mirror, preparing her 'beautiful' image. Who, he wondered, had it been for?
Rolf had been at the table with him. Of course he had. He too would be going to Berlin ... and Kurt had no doubts that the rivalry that they'd started here would continue in the capital city of the country.
But in Berlin, it would have far more serious overtones. He would have to be very careful indeed. There was no second chance for one who fell out of favor, for one who allowed blemishes to appear on his record. He wouldn't permit it ... despite what he knew would be Rolfs fervent efforts to the contrary.
He would be vigilant.
And he would be a success.
He stood now at the door, almost afraid to go in.
What if she wasn't there?
Where would she have gone?
It occurred to him that in his anger, he'd overlooked one possibility. What if she'd been hurt?
But no ... that was un-likely. Anna was a clever, careful girl. She was smart enough to know how to take care of herself, at least while she performed such a simple task as dressing herself and walking to the meeting hall.
He opened the door.
He sensed immediately that there was something wrong.
He looked around, senses already acute, fully alert, even before he was fully aware that there seemed, yes, to be a good reason....
Then, he saw it.
The blouse that Anna had been wearing!
It was carelessly strewn over the back of the couch ... and....
He rushed to examine it.
He saw what appeared to be a slash mark through the material.
"Anna!" he called out, fear gripping him now. After all, she was the woman he loved, whether she loved him or not.
"ANNA!!" he cried, more loudly this time.
He raced into the bedroom, and there, before his horrified eyes, a sight met him that for a moment was too much for him to cope with. It was impossible. It couldn't be.... But there she was ... naked ... thrown across the bed....
Her arms had been tied behind her back....
There was blood ... blood on her thighs ... blood on her buttocks....
"ANNA ...!!" he wailed, frightened, terrified.
He raced to her, quickly untied her arms and felt for a pulse. There appeared to be a faint one, and she was breathing, but her eyes were closed and when he opened one eyelid, there was no recognition, no life in them.
"Who did this to you?" he asked, still scarcely able to believe it. "Who? Who would do such a thing?"
She made a noise now, and he felt tension in her arms as she tried for a moment to move them.
"Oh, you are alive. Oh thank God ... thank God."
Her eyes opened, she stared around the room, looked straight at Kurt without recognition, and then she began to shiver....
She didn't stop.
Kurt felt her body starting to jerk itself into a series of violent spasms, felt her arms and legs starting to shake, and he felt queasy in his stomach.
There was nothing he could do. His woman seemed to be beyond help, already.
"I'm too late...." he moaned. "Oh Anna, talk to me. Tell me ... who did this thing to you? Who? Who?"
He washed her face with a damp cloth and tried as best he could to clean the blood off her body. He could see that she'd been brutally raped, but there didn't appear to be any serious damage....
"Rolf...." she said, softly, almost in a whisper.
Kurt was alert.
"What? What did you say?"
"Rolf," she gasped, almost unconscious now.
"Rolf! Whafabout him?"
"He ... swore he'd get even."
"What?! What are you talking about?"
"He told me that I was a disgrace to the Reich...."
"Anna! Anna! What are you saying? When! When? What did he say this for?"
But she was past talk. She closed her eyes, and it was nearly three weeks before she was to open them again. During that time, the doctors gave up hope for her a hundred times. But miraculously, early one Sunday morning, she opened her eyes, looked around, and said simply "What time is it?"
There'd been fears of brain damage ... of memory loss ... there'd been fears that she's suffered some kind of permanent injury ... but there appeared to be none.
Except for one thing.
Kurt noticed it the moment that he approached her bedside after being summoned by her doctors.
She held out her hand to him, smiled, thanked him for his interest ... and that was it. There was nothing left of whatever feeling she'd once had for him. It was dead, burned out in a blast of violence that he still couldn't fully comprehend.
"Anna ... you said that Rolf...."
But she would say nothing. Whatever the truth, she'd either forgotten or else decided that it would remain buried forever. There was nothing that Kurt could say that would change her mind. And in the autumn when he left for Berlin, she sent him a polite note thanking him for the appointment, but regretfully declining, that she might directly enter her medical training. There were, after all, persistent rumors of war, and should hostilities break out between the Fatherland and any of the numerous threatening neighbors surrounding them, there would be a pronounced need for nursing staff....
And so Kurt set out alone on that phase of his life, one that would, eventually, take him directly into the highest councils of the Party, where he would be viewed with favor, and where he would finally come to the attention of the Fuhrer himself.
And Anna set out on her life too, one that would take her to a far different destiny ... i
CHAPTER FOUR
Anna moved silently through the bed-lined hallway, pausing at the side of those patients who were still awake, sharing a brief word with them, giving them encouragement, allowing them the momentary pleasure of speaking with a pretty young girl, one who's beauty shone through the dowdy white dress that she wore as an attendent in the hospital.
She was in the final phase of her training.
She'd spent the past three years in a flurry of activity. There had been an equal amount of activity throughout the country.
The headlines spoke daily of that activity.
POLAND!!!
BELGIUM!!!
LUXEMBURG!!!
FRANCE!!!
The Fuhrer stood on the Eiffel Tower. The Swastika flew over the Arc de Triomphe.
The thousand-year reich was now a full reality. It was just beginning, but the Glory that would be Germany was already coming into sharper and sharper focus.
England stood alone. There were none to defend her. That's what the papers were saying. Soon, the Army would invade, and then, the Aryan race would be the supreme masters of all Europe, left only with their uncomfortable allies to the East, the Russians who must even now be quaking in their boots. There was nothing that would prevent Germany from vanquishing that barbaric hoard as well, once the gains in the West were consolidated. And of course, no one believed that once Britain fell that America would do anything except arrange a convenient peace. There was far too much admiration in that strange land across the ocean for the German ideals for them to seriously consider a war ... and ... should they decide to fight in the Pacific ... perhaps Germany would allow the yellow race to go to the slaughter on its own....
It grew far too complicated for Anna to follow ... not that she wasn't interested. But the immediate concerns were far more pressing, and they could easily consume all her time and attention. She knew enough to trust in the politicians and the generals to chart the destiny of the Fatherland. It was for her and those like her to make certain that there was a powerful and resiliant home-guard capable of supporting the endeavors abroad.
Which was why she was doing her residence work now in one of the many military hospitals that had become necessary as the Reich's ambitions began to bear fruit.
Despite the successes, despite the glowing reports sung gaily in the papers each day, there was a darker side to the victories. The proof was lying all around her. Even in victory, armies suffered death and injury. The dead, she seldom needed to confront head-on, but the wounded ... they were everywhere.
Some with mere scratches on their foreheads ... some with no legs ... no arms ... no faces....
She was able to look at them all, however, with a dispassionate attitude. She felt nothing.
She had felt nothing for over three years.
She'd felt nothing at the time she'd told Kurt that she wouldn't be accompanying him to Berlin.
She'd felt nothing all during her schooling that followed, despite the numerous suitors that chased her at every turn.
She'd felt nothing at all. She was a scar ... one vast, tight knot of scar tissue. There were no emotions in her, none that she'd ever attempt to let out, at any rate, and she was most content to keep it that way.
It made the pain of her job much easier to bear, for one thing.
The groans of the wounded would quite possibly have been enough to drive a normal person mad.
They were almost like a silence to her. She heard them, she ignored them.
She responded as a professional. She responded as a machine. She responded as an automaton that had been designed and built for the express purpose of providing medical care, dispensed from a textbook. But there was no emotion involved ... and there could be none.
"You can't deal with them as individuals," she'd been told over and over during her nursing training. "You have to treat them as a class ... as a generic unit, all of them receiving the same level of care and attention. Otherwise, it will affect you and you will never survive ... never."
She believed it. Fortunately, she had nothing in her with which to respond except for that detached, professionalism. There was nothing that she could find in her to give, beyond the care that she had been trained to give.
That was enough.
A soldier opened his eyes.
He was young.
"Nurse," he said in a clear, surprisingly strong voice.
She walked over to him. "Yes?"
Cold. Efficient. Professional.
"Nurse...." he said again.
Oh no, she thought to herself. He just wants to talk. That was the hardest, because she knew that that was part of the job ... providing them with some sort of comfort ... but she kenw that she didn't have it inside her to give of herself, beyond the kinds of rote advice and comfort that the book prescribed.
"Was there something I can do for you?" she asked.
"I ... I ... just ... I mean...." he said, obviously fumbling for words. He looked embarrassed.
"Are you cold? Arc you warm? Do you need some pain medicine?"
He seemed to be uncomfortable, and it was clear that he could talk ... but he wouldn't tell her, and so there was obviously nothing she could do.
"Come come. What is the trouble?"
Still nothing. A fumbling attempt to answer her, but there wasn't anything she could make of it.
Just as a precaution, she pulled his cover down to make certain that there was nothing wrong that she could later be held responsible for.
She saw two things all at once.
His hands and arms were bangaded tightly.
"My ... what happened to you?" she asked.
"I was in a collision ... my vehicle overturned when a shell exploded nearby."
"You are lucky that you weren't burned more seriously. You will be all right?"
"The doctors don't know yet. They think so ... but they won't know until next week, when they take off my bandages."
He was nervous now ... more so than ever. She had a feeling that she understood why.
"How long have you been bandaged like that?" she asked.
"About six weeks...." he said.
He could see where she was looking.
It was at his crotch, rising now in a massive bulge that could only be from one source.
My, she thought. How awful to be a man. and have no use of your hands, and no access to women....
It was clear that he was beside himself with frustration ... but there was nothing that she could do about that. It certainly wasn't part of her medical duties to perform as a concubine, as well as a nurse.
She replaced his covers. She looked at him. She knew what he'd wanted, and hadn't found the courage to ask, and she knew that he knew she knew. Leave it at that. No point in torturing the lad more than was necessary
"I hope you will be all right," she said, and then, without another word, she moved on through the ward.
Fortunately, this ward dealt with those whose chances of recovery were judged to be quite good, and most of them were able to sleep, something that the majority seemed to have already begun. She finished her rounds and returned to her quarters.
But if she thought that she too would be allowed to sleep, she was wrong.
That face remained with her. Such a boyish nervousness. There seemed to be nothing that she could do to shake his eyes from her mind as she looked at them.
She found that once the associations began, she couldn't call a halt to the tide.
No, she thought ... don't make me remember.
Don't make me think about men, and about cocks ... about the pain they can inflict ... and certainly not about the pleasure they are capable of making one feel....
Nothing could have been more deadly. Yet, that was the very thing that she found herself dwelling upon," and as the evening wore on, there seemed to be something rising up from deep inside her ... some kind of primal force, one that she couldn't ignore ... one that seemed determined to overwhelm her, totally.
She felt it beginning as a small point of warmth between her legs, warmth of a kind that she hadn't felt in years....
She thought back to the one time in her life that she'd felt that warmth as something welcome ... as something to be enjoyed, to be desired.
She thought of Kurt.
She thought of the two of them ... on the rock by the river, in his cottage, in her cottage ... behind the big meeting hall....
Taking their moments wherever they were able.
And she thought of Rolf ... and then, a cold chill raced through her.
NO!!! she thought. Don't!!! Don't!!! Don't!!! It's insane. Don't think of those time!!!!
But she couldn't help herself, for whenever she attempted to block that summer from her thoughts, the image of the soldier with the burned hands immediately rose to take its place, and she once more found herself staring down at that enormous bulge between his legs ... that hard staff of flesh that quite possibly hadn't been properly relieved for weeks....
She shook her head, and found that it was her entire body that was shaking, as if from a violent wind, blowing not from without, but from a past that existed inside her, a wind that swept through her now, rushed over her nerves, through her mind, leaving her frightened and lonely, and for the first time in three and a half years, fully aware of that fact.
Lonely!
Oh God!!! She was lonely! She couldn't think about it, couldn't even form the concept in her thoughts, for to do so hurt too badly.
But she couldn't ignore it.
She was lonely, and she was aching with an emptiness inside her that wouldn't be relieved ... it wouldn't go away, and all her efforts to purge herself of it's power over her seemed to merely increase it.
"Oh ... oh ... oh ... oh...." she cried out, almost as if pursued by something evil ... as if she was running.
She was running ... but it wasn't from anything near her, from anything that was chasing her.
She was running from the truth about herself, and that truth was that she'd been denying herself the most fundamental and basic of pleasures ... denying herself the experience of life itself, and for reasons that had ceased to have meaning.
Hadn't they?
She didn't know.
She could scarcely form the question in her mind, let alone produce an answer.
In fact, the processes of her mind were growing sluggish ... things that made perfect sense only hours eariler now seemed alien, strange, as if the world was no longer the same place.
And through it all, that glowing warmth between her legs began to rise in heat, began to overcome her fear, her isolation, replacing it instead with a crying need to do something about it. Anything. ANYTHING!!!
She felt sensations between her legs that she'd scrupulously avoided for so long, that at first, it was too shocking for her to contemplate the possibility that she was feeling it.
Could it be that her clit was really swelling ... that it was growing stiff ... that there was moisture gathering there behind her lips....
It wasn't possible. She knew it. It couldn't be. IT COULDN'T BF!!!
But, as she knew she would, the moment came when she was forced to see ... to reach down to her dress ... to pull it up ... not even bothering to check to see if the door to her quarters had been locked (who would come in anyway?) and as she pulled the material up over her knees, up her thighs ... up ... up ... up ... all the way to her waist, she found that she was even more aroused than she'd already been.
Her pussy was a blaze of heat and mindless lust.
She touched her panties on the outside of her slit and found them to be soaking. The moisture had a slick, oily feeling to it and as she ran her finger tips over the surface, she felt more and more juices oozing from within her body.
She felt more.
She felt a flame of passion tickling the nerve endings of her clit....
And as she ran her fingertip over the spot where she knew that it was hiding, she discovered to her surprise that it wasn't hiding at all ... it was stiff, swollen and greatly enlarged.
She felt the tip as her finger brushed over it. Her muscles all contracted violently in response and a wave of sensation that seemed like it might well knock her unconscious shook her from the soles of her feet to the back of her neck, leaving a delicious trail of rippling tremors in its wake.
She pressed her finger against her clit once more ... and now, as she began to reawaken to the sensation of sexual heat and arousal, she asked herself, how could I have gone so long?
Suddenly, the image of that swollen cock beneath the gown of the wounded soldier burst forth once more, this time like a revalation. She dropped the hem of her dress, stood, and moved to the door, her mind made up, almost without any conscious thought having been necessary. She had to do it. She had to give herself the opportunity, even though she wasn't fully aware, just yet, what it was that she would be doing.
He was sleeping.
She simply found herself standing next to him, not able to remember the walk over there ... not able to remember much of anything, driven purely by the inner forces that had been allowed to build, unsuspected, insidiously, for so long ... and now, once they were released, it seemed that nothing would stop them, nor check their intensity.
She stared at the sleeping form, bent down low and whispered in his ear....
"Soldier...."
He jumped and she quickly said "Shhhhh! Don't make any noise."
"Who...?"
"SHHH! I'm the nurse ... the one you spoke with earlier."
He fell silent and she glanced around, watching, waiting, hoping that there would be no prying eyes to see ... no ears to hear ... but knowing that it didn't matter. She was going to do this thing no matter what.
She knew that it would be at least fifteen minutes before the duty-nurse was going to return.
She pulled the man's blanket's down and even in the dark could see the huge bulge that was there.
"Don't say a word, don't make a sound," she whispered in the soldier's ear. He seemed to have gone rigid, paralyzed, from fear, shock or anticipation, she couldn't tell.
But when she reached to his gown, tentatively at first, placed her hand over that hard shaft, began to press hard onto it, and then lifted the hem of the material, the man gave no resistance.
He'd better not, she thought grimly to herself.
She'd take stern measures with him, if he did. After breaking through her resistance, after waking up nerves that would have been better off being left dormant, he'd better produce ... he'd better provide her with what she wanted ... he'd better keep a hard cock and a silent mouth ... and....
She realized that she didn't even have any coherent idea how she was going to carry this out. Only that she was going to do something ... anything!!!
She touched the man's naked cock now.
He began to quiver.
She could feel his hips starting to shudder as she squeezed her fingers around the full thickness of his shaft.
She began to pull on it. The outer membrane stretched, and she felt the stiff tissues beneath rubbing against the pressure of her fingers.
She pulled all the way up, letting her fingers rub over the bulge of his mushroom shaped glans.
Then, as she pulled back, pressing her fist more and more tight against his balls, the foreskin moved away, and she was able to see ... it was just as she remembered it being!
So beautiful.
So perfectly sculpted.
So....
She couldn't find words, but none, of course, were needed. She knew only that she wanted this to continue ... that she never wanted to let go.
But her cunt was a raging inferno of frustrated lust. She could feel the juices in her panties, could feel them soaking her.
She pressed her thighs together and felt indirect stimulation against her clitoris, and she knew at once that she needed something more intense.
She pressed her thighs together more tightly, felt a new flurry of sensation tickling the nerves in the lower part of her body, but by this time, she was past the point of being satisfied with anything in moderation.
She wanted more ... and more ... and more ... and more....
She kept her hands firmly grasping his cock, but she moved up to the man's head.
Would he understand? Would he know what she needed?
Removing one hand from his cock, she pulled her dress up, she pulled her panties down, and even from where her own head was, she could almost at once smell the thick, pungent aroma of her aroused cunt.
She knew that it must have nearly knocked him out.
She could feel the muscles in his cock starting to tremble. Was he going to spurt already?
She didn't mind. She'd thought that he might be ready to shoot almost at one, having gone so long without any kind of release.
But she was in need as well. He turned his head, he stuck out his tongue, stretching it as far as he could manage....
But it didn't reach.
She felt desperation starting to take control of her.
How long had she been there?
How long would it be until the nurse came back, making her rounds. She'd checked the schedule and knew that the nurse was Ludmilla Shanks ... one of the meanest of the instructors. She would certainly not take kindly to such a display as this, particularly from one whom she considered to be a model student and perfect example of behavioral decorum.
Anna felt the lust within her body reaching up, as if with powerful hands and fingers, gripping her brain and taking complete control of all her thoughts ... all her reactions ... her entire being.
It was clear. There was really only one thing that she could do. The boy couldn't reach her ... she would have to reach the boy. she looked around once more in the darkness, heard and saw nothing that gave her pause, and then, she climbed up onto the bed. It was the only solution that made any sense.
As she straddled the boys face, she leaned forward.
His cock drew near as she situated the lips of her pussy over his mouth. Did he know what she wanted? Was he capable of giving her what she needed? She didn't care. She had the advantage, and she was willing to keep herself right there until she got what she needed.
His rod was right in front of her ... she felt it ... she touched it with her tongue ... she tasted the liquid that seemed to be forming at the tip.
At the same time, she spread her legs farther apart, and then she felt it.
He licked his tongue over her clit.
The sensation was the most delicious that she'd ever felt ... or at least that she could remember feeling.
All through her body it was as if a thousand suns had suddenly burst into full brilliance.
Her mind went blank, except for that center that was able to receive and comprehend tthe overwhelming sensations that were ripping her open.
"Oh...." she gasped, softly, almost a whisper.
The sound struck her ears as if it had been the loudest, longest scream that she was capable of screaming.
She knew that she couldn't risk any noise at all, for once she started, there might well be no containing it.
She filled her mouth, therefore, with the most delicious and logical plug that had ever been devised.
His cock slid past her lips, quickly filling her mouth.
She sucked, she licked, she nibbled around the head, all the techniques returning to her mind, even though she'd only had the opportunity to practice on one person in the past ... and that so long ago....
But with Kurt, there'd been pleasure of a sort ... there'd been a sensation of joy ... and she'd been able to satisfy him ... she knew that she'd been able to satisfy him because he'd kept coming back for more.
Well, now she was going to satisfy this boy, and she knew that he'd come back more as well ... and damn his ass if he didn't. She'd be able to take care of him in that eventuality as well.
He opened his mouth and let his tongue slide into her hole.
The muscles around the rim were so narrow, having gone so long with no stretching, she almost went berserk at the first sensation.
But then, something even more overpowering struck her.
As she moved her hips up and down in a nearly uncontrollable reaction, she felt the sharp edge of his teeth scraping over her tender membranes and pink, wet, tissues. Then, she hit that sharp edge with her clit, and for just a second, she knew, she simply knew that she was going to scream.
She held her composure somehow, but she immediately moved her hips madly back and forth over his mouth again, trying to locate those wonderful, cruel, sharp teeth.
She found them, and at once, she started to push them against her.
She felt the edge begin to dig into her clit ... and as it did so, the stiffness of her swollen bud of nerves became all the more apparent.
It was driving her out of her mind. Wave after wave washed over her.
She was breathing harder and harder. Her muscles were starting to clench and spasm. The only thing that was keeping her from screaming out loud was the fact that her mouth was almost completely filled up with the full length of his cock.
She rammed her head down on the thing, feeling it slam against the back wall of her throat.
In response, he literally bit her clit. She gasped, and that time, there was a noise. Slight ... but deadly.
She sucked more and more on his cock, played with his balls, renewed the sensation of a man's body against her own, the smell of a man's crotch, the coarse feel of his flesh ... and she found it all delicious.
He ran his tongue in and out of her cunt ... in and out ... in and out....
She wondered where he'd learned to do this. German men, as a rule, preferred simple fucking to oral sex, but there was no doubt that this boy had been taught by someone who knew what she wanted and knew what she liked.
Then she remembered ... this brigade had been part of the French campaign ... and that, of course, would have explained it. There was one thing that a French whore knew about, and that was getting her cunt licked.
Well, so did certain German nurses ... and she'd be damned certain that she kept this boy in mind.
She felt his hips starting to press up against her mouth with more and more force now, and she realized that he was going to shoot.
No, she thought to herself, that wasn't fair. She wanted to come. She wanted to come with a cock in her. She wanted to come with this mighty pole ramming in and out of her pussy.
She wanted to-!
Oh my God! The door at the end of the ward opened, shut and then, there were footsteps. She'd glanced up and seen a form in the light. There could be no one else with that shape.
Ludmilla Shanks!!!
She was caught ... unless....
She sat up and quickly reversed herself.
She brought her face close to his ear and as she did so, she felt his cock playing around her legs. She was still on top of him and now she lay out full length over his body, making certain not to hurt his bandaged arms.
"Say nothing," she whispered, "do you hear?"
He nodded vigorously. Good. He wanted this to go on as much as she did.
She reached down and pulled the covers up over the boy and tried to flatten herself out on his body as much as she could.
She pulled the covers over her head, and as she did so, she felt his cock press against the lips of her pussy.
Oh ... it felt soooooooo soooooooo gooooooooood ... sooooooo wonderful ... so delicious ... she couldn't help herself ... she simply had to sort of slide down on his body just a little further ... let the head press a little harder against her hole., press harder ... harder....
HARDER!!!
The thing split her pussy hole for the first time in three and a half years!
She sucked in her breath, knowing that she was just about to cry out ... cry so hard that she'd wake up the entire ward, let alone give herself away to Ludmilla.
She felt that massive cock running all the way into her.
It filled her.
It was in her. The long dry years were over. Now ... if her cunt was any indication, the wet years were just beginning.
She heard Ludmilla's footsteps moving down the center of the ward.
Slw heard her stopping her and there, checking on this patient, reading that patient's chart, trying to gather a feeling for the overall condition of the ward, for of course there was no way that you could check on each individual patient in his sleep .
Nor was there any need to.
Any who needed her attention would call out ... she would know where her services were most required, and that, hopefully, meant that she wouldn't pay overly much attention to the large patient in this bed....
She felt his cock inside her. The thing was enormous anyway, but having gone so long without being fucked, or even without masturbating ... her pussy walls were contracted to the point of being quite narrow indeed.
She felt the head pressing against the back wall of her cunt, but it wasn't all the way in yet.
She couldn't even feel his pubic hairs tickling the crack of her ass....
Which meant, she realized, that if this boy ever got a chance to properly fuck her pussy, it would most likely rip her wide open.
What a way to go. she thought, hungrily, so far past any thoughts of professional standards of behavior that she was almost prepared to start moving her hips on his cock now, if it meant that she'd be able to feel that thing filling her up.
Ludmilla continued to move through the ward.
Closer....
Closer....
Closer....
Closer....
She stopped!
She was at the foot of this very bed! Anna was certain of it. She'd been listening with senses too sharply honed by fear and excitement to be wrong!
What was she doing? Watching? Wondering ... wondering why such a bulge in that one bed....
She heard footsteps again ... she heard the woman coming up to the head of the bed....
Anna held her breath ... it was over. She was about to be discovered ... it was over ... over ... over....
"OHHHHHHHH!!!" the cry broke out. "MY GOD!!!"
It had come from the other end of the ward.
"Help me...." came the cry again. Anna heard Ludmilla's footsteps suddenly race in the direction of the cry. Someone's pain killer had worn off ... someone perhaps had rolled over on a broken limb at an awkward angle ... who knew? Who cared? Not Anna.
Ludmilla apparently managed to calm the man down, but Anna heard the woman talking at the other .end of the ward, apparently to whoever was having difficulties.
That was fine. Because Anna was having difficulties too, but she was about to take steps to ease them.
She raised her hips, felt his cock slide back through her greasy cunt, slide all the way to the opening, and then she slammed herself back down onto the boy's cock.
It piled through her. It opened her body completely. Membranes untouched for so long now were suddenly and rudely stretched back to the fullest.
She felt an explosion of sensation ripping through her nerves, and in the center of her brain, she felt herself slowly turning into a point of pure light ... as if her body was melting ... as if she was no longer in the physical world....
Now she was pure sensation ... pure feeling ... pure experience.
Cock and cunt.
In and out.
Harder and harder.
Faster.
Faster.
She felt herself going mad. She felt herself going to pieces. She felt herself going higher and higher and higher.
"Oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... oh...." she moaned, softly, but directly in his ear so he would hear.
She was moving harder and faster now, and suddenly, she felt his hips slam back up against her.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
Hard, violent thrusts.
He gasped for breath but managed to keep silent, and then, she knew.
She felt it, as if there'd been any doubts. A massive load of hot jism suddenly flooded inside her, Filling her with an even greater sensation of warmth that she'd had already. More and more.
Thick, mighty wads of the stuff, all of it flowing in a steady, unbroken stream of greasy wetness.
She felt it squeezing between the sides of his cock and the rim of her pussy hole....
And still there was more. More ... more ... more ... and yet more!
Would he never run out?
She was ramming her hips up and down ... up and down ... up and down ... there was nothing that was going to stop her now.
And she felt it.
It was coming. It was starting to build! Down in the very center of her soul, down in the deepest, most hidden parts of her body, she felt it starting to build.
She was close now ... she was so close ... closer ... closer ... closer....
And the boy kept coming. He kept shooting. His cock was like a hose run amock.
Globs of cum were coating the outer surface of her cunt lips now, running down the boy's thighs, running over her own thighs....
She felt him pressing up against her ... she felt him ramming that still hard cock against her ... she felt everything that she'd been denying herself ... and she never wanted to stop feeling it.
And then, it struck her.
A mighty blast, powerful as the Blitzkreig ... an attack on her sanity, formed from within.
It shook her ... it leveled her.
She fell on his cock, already starting to wilt now ... but it no longer mattered.
Once begun, her orgasm was self-sustaining.
It was a mighty feeling ... a feeling of openness ... a feeling of floating ... a feeling that she was spinning down, down, down, down, falling into a vast, bottomless pit....
She could gladly have felt that sensation forever.
Her cunt made a couple more feeble attempts to move the boy's cock through it, but he'd lost it by now ... and there was more juice in her crotch, in her pubic hair, over her thighs, than she would have thought possible.
She collapsed.
She was spent.
She was satisfied....
And now, she was slowly coming back to the world....
THE WORLD!!! Ludmilla Shanks!
A wave of panic rushed through her ... and that's when she noticed that there seemed to be light at the edge of the covers.
She reached out, pulled them back, poked her head turtle-like from beneath the mass of thick material ... and found herself squinting into a flashlight beam.
"Anna...." came the voice, filled with disbelief, shock and dismay. "Anna ... you?"
Anna closed her eyes. It was going to be a long, long night.
CHAPTER FIVE
The stony corridors of the Ministry of Racial Purity echoed in the early morning as Kurt made his way to the office of Reichminister Krump, Direktor of the district to which he'd been assigned.
He knocked and was admitted at once.
Reichminister Krump was waiting. Impatiently, from the looks of the man. It was the first time that Kurt had enocuntered his supervisor, though the man's reputation for feverish dedication to what he saw as his mission was well know ... and feared.
"Doctor," the large, bald man said calmly, almost pleasantly. Almost. But not quite. "Please ... have a seat." He pulled a gold watch from his pocket and studied it closely. Then, with a sigh he said, "I suppose we can say that you are on time ... despite the fact that my calculations put you approximately two minutes late. Perhaps in the future, you might be inclined to allow for this sort of margin ... in favor of punctuality. Eh?"
He smiled a bloodless smile and studied Kurt as Kurt found himself already growing nervous.
"So. You are enjoying your assignment? Eh'?"
Kurt cleared his throat. "Well, to be frank, Herr Reichminister, I've been a little in the dark as to the exact nature of my assignment. So far, I seem to have been involved in low-level tasks that don't seem to have much importance--!"
The man rose to his feet at once, slapping the desk with the flat of his palm. A resounding crack seemed to shake the room.
"Whatever you do in the service of the Reich is important. Do you understand?"
"Yes, certainly, Herr Reichminister, I only meant to suggest-!"
"You only meant to suggest that you might be better equipped to determine how best the Reich might use you ... isn't that so?"
Immediately humbled, Kurt mumbled a soft "I apologize, Herr Reichminister. I certainly meant no impertinance. Forgive me."
"I may. If it suits me to do so! Perhaps we'll wait and see how you discharge duties of a more 'fitting' nature, eh? You worry that you're talents are wasted. Well ... worry no longer, my good and dedicated friend, because I have a task that is surpassed by no others in its importance. You are interested, eh?"
He looked like a grinning skull as he stood in front of Kurt, gloating, welding the power blatantly, and in a most unnecessary manner. Kurt had no desire to contradict the man's authority. But, he kenw better than to do anything other than simply mumble his acknowledgements and his agreement to whatever the man said to him.
"You see, Her 'Doctor'," the bald man resumed, placing exaggerated emphasis on the title, "we are attempting something that has never before been attempted in the history of the world. I'm sure you will agree that such an endeavor is worthy of 'your' talents, eh?"
He grinned and chuckled as he nudged Kurt fraternally in the ribs.
"As you say, Herr Reichminister," Kurt replied.
"All right ... let me explain it to you. It is the sincere desire of the Fuhrer himself and his closest advisors that these hostilities be ended as soon as possible, and that the chaos created by such a state be tamed properly. There is no room in the Reich for randomness, for chaos. None! The ultimate goal is to reduce everything to an exact science. Everything. Eliminate guesswork, and you have a workable society. It is the uncertainty that will cripple a realm. It is the randomness that like a cancer eats at the very fabric of society ... do you not agree?"
Kurt smiled politely. "It is evident, to the point that I would be a fool to disagree, Herr Reichminister," he answered. Translated: get to the point, fool.
The man studied Kurt, seemed about to say something, changed his mind and continued in the same vain as before.
"There is a sincere desire that such mundane functions as the schedules of trains be honed to an exact science ... and that such predictability be extended to all areas of our life. You see...?"
Kurt smiled. "I think so, Herr Reichminister."
"Of course you don't, imbecile. I've, not yet gotten to the point. You patronize me?"
Kurt felt sweat breaking out on his forehead. The man was obviously deranged. What was worse, his type seemed more ad more to be occupying the highest levels of responsibility in ministry after ministry. What was happening to the noble ideal of his youth, he thought, dismally, was conforming precisely to the very fears that he' d felt as a younger man, on his way to Berlin for the first time.
But the bald man in whose palm Kurt's future rested was speaking again, and Kurt gave him his attention.
"We are concerned here with studies on the human mind. On the human body. Do you realize. Herr Doctor, that of all areas of human knowledge, the human body is the one in which our knowledge is most chronically lacking. And do you understand why?"
"No ... I'm afraid I don't."
"Because there has been a ridiculous taboo on the experimentation involving human subjects!!! That's why! It's only been since the advent of our own Ministry that we've been able to adequately provide the scientific foundation for recognizing the sub-species that heretofore have managed to pass for human ... to the detriment of the society as a whole. You realize that I speak of the Jews, predominently, but also of the Slavs and the dark-skinned peoples ... to say nothing of the yellow-skinned orientals that even now the Fuhrer uses to his advantage, only to wait for the proper moment to destroy them.'"
Kurt swallowed. He'd feared that he would be caught up in this madness. Now, it was coming. And he knew there was nothing to be done about it.
"Herr Doctor, you realize the extraordinary opportunity that is facing us? For the first time in recorded history, the guesswork will be eliminated from the often unpleasant task of interrogations ... of punishments of all sorts....
"We shall expand our horizons immeasurably. We shall as last unlock secrets of the human body that have resisted our efforts in the past, due simply to a misguided sense of civilized behavior. You are to be a part of this effort. I don't need to inform you, I'm sure, that we will be watching you closely. There has been a rather repugnant taint to your past ... reflected. I fear, in the dossiers that have been compiled on your previous assignments."
Here, the man glanced over at his desk. There were several folders stacked one on top of the other.
"I take it. those refer to me?" Kurt said.
"You will take what you are given, and you will keep your mouth shut otherwise," the man sneered. "Let me explain something to you. It has been said, on more than one occasion, that you lack an essential strength that should be present in one who desire to serve the Reich. You seem to retain certain 'liberal' tendencies that have no place in the new order. Am I mistaken? I hope so. Because it' I'm not, you may find that there is little to no future for you. at least in your chosen profession."
"Herr Reichminister, my chosen profession is that of a doctor. I am trained to save lives, not take them."
"Very true. Fortunately for you, the work that you will be performing for us here will require that you deal only with Jews ... and those lives are, of course, inconsequential. Aren't they?"
Kurt hesitated a moment.
"Your hesitation is noted, and it will be remembered. You may. of course, compensate for it, through exemplary service. I certainly hope, for your sake, that you manage it."
And then, the nature of Kurt's duties were outlined for him.
He maintained a correct, polite tone of voice through the rest of the meeting, bowed graciously, thanked the bald man, turned and left.
He held his back straight, and kept his eyes dead ahead as he walked from the building.
He returned to his room. He locked the door. And then he threw up.
* * * * *
The girl was naked.
Her breasts rippled from fine tremors that shuddered faintly through her entire body. She had been unconscious for the past half hour, but now she seemed to be waking up once more.
Her body was spread out on a bench. Her arms extended beyond her head.
Her legs were opened, though not as far as they could be stretched. She had no gag in her mouth. None, apparently, was needed.
Kurt stared, horrified. His stomach felt like mush. His legs were weak. He knew that there would be many people, the Reichminister Krump not the least of whom, waiting to hear of his first encounter with the studies taking place in the Ministry of Racial Purity.
The girl was a Jew, though that was something that Kurt knew only because she was the subject in this experiment and no other reason. She looked Aryan ... as Aryan as Anna had looked-!
Anna. What would she think, could she but see him now. Where were the golden dreams ... the future that 'belonged to me', that they'd sung so joyously of at the rallies....
He shoved her once more to the-back of his thoughts and tried to steel himself for the ordeal ahead.
"What we are now going to do. my friend," said Fritz, the technician running the experiment, "is to test the reaction of the subject ... but why explain, eh? You can see for yourself."
He walked over to the girl.
"You are awake?"
The girl stared up at Fritz, a glazed look in her eyes. Kurt could tell at once that she scarcely comprehended anything the man was saying to her.
"Come, come, let's have some attention here," Fritz said, slapping her on the cheeks. It wasn't hard, but somehow, Kurt felt as if he too was being slapped.
A bit more attention rose in the girl's expression, and as it did so, she began to appear more and more frightened.
But her arms and legs were completely bound. There was no hope of escape for her, and she knew it. The hopelessness on her face was silent testamony to that.
Fritz picked up two long, extremely thin needles. "These, you see ... they will tell us what we need to know ... ' he said, a truly demented look in his eyes now. Kurt wanted to scream. He wanted to do something to stop the man. But lie knew that it was hopeless. And there was simply no point.
What could he hope to accomplish? He was just one person. There was nothing he could do to alter the course of an entire nation, was there?
"Yes ... yes ... my little lovely," Fritz was saying now to the girl, fondling her breast roughly. "You will tell us much of what we need to know ... won't you? Hmmm? Won't you?"
"Please...." she said now. the first words she'd spoken since Kurt had entered the room. Fritz merely chuckled, unmoved, although that voice had been the most pathetic thing that Kurt had ever heard in his entire life. That one, lone 'please' had said everything that he'd needed to hear, to tell him that there was no cause being advanced here in the name of science. None whatsoever.
Fritz grasped her breasts firmly now ... forcing the nipples to stand upright.
Then, he embedded one of the needles straight into the girl's breast. She began to scream. She began to writhe on the table. The needle was in only halfway ... but it was obviously driving her out of her mind.
"Now," said Fritz, calmly, "the other one," whereupon he gripped her other breast just as tightly and began to push the needle into it. Then he turned to Kurt. "You. Here. You should get a 'feel' for this."
Kurt walked over to the table, dazed. Don't think about this ... don't think about it," he told himself. There's nothing you can do anyway. Don't think about it. Block it out!!!
He stared down. There were screams coming from the girl's throat. She was gasping in agony, she was screaming in her intense pain, and there was nothing he could do. Don't think. Don't think!
He stared at her pierced breast ... at the needle protruding from the center of her nipple. There were already small droplets of blood forming at the point of entry. He swallowed, took the needle from the technician's hand and grasped the girl's other breast.
It was soft. It was sooooo soft ... it amazed him to feel how soft. This was flesh!
This was a human being. A woman. This breast ... in another world, in another time, he would have gently caressed the surface, played with the nipple ... he would perhaps have sucked on it ... perhaps bitten it ... perhaps even caused her pain ... but it would have been different ... she would have writhed ... she would have moaned, but it would have been different ... different ... wouldn't it?
He felt the tips of his fingers pressing into the woman's flesh. The interior of her breast felt as if there were various parts, different textures, different densities....
He pinched the nipple, slightly, then more firmly, trying to get a feel for it. There were nerve endings here, every one of which Was going to burst aflame as soon as he touched her with the needle. Could he do it?
"Is there a problem, Doctor?" asked the technician, smugly.
"Of course not," said Kurt. He touched the point of the needle to the girl's breast.
She screamed. Had she been screaming all along? Or had she merely been whimpering, bursting back into full screaming only now ... now that he was destroying her other breast? He didn't know. There was no past for him, not even one that was but thirty seconds old. Only a present ... an unbroken chain of horrifying moments, one tumbling after the next relentlessly, without end.
He began to press.
He felt the needle burrowing its way into her nipple ... he felt her muscles all beginning to spasm once more.
He pressed further. Her breasts were both shaking violently as her body reacted to the intense pain. He continued to press, however, knowing that if he stopped, he'd never find the strength to start up again.
She was shrieking, mindlessly incoherent sounds, animal-like sounds ... there was nothing coming from her throat that suggested she was remotely human....
Perhaps the Reichminister had been right. She wasn't human ... was she? Surely, there wouldn't be something like this happening to a human ... would there? If there was a God in heaven, he wouldn't permit it to happen, would he? That it was nonetheless happening surely proved something, didn't it?
He had no concept of what he was thinking. He was simply trying to keep his brain occupied so the enormity of what was happening might somehow be warded off, that the impact of his actions would be delayed until he'd completed the task. For above all else, survival was important. It was everything. It was life. And for him to survive ... he was required to do this.
The needle was finally buried to approximately the same depth as the first.
Her back was arched as far as she could manage. Her face was a twisted mask of pain. She seemed to have virtually no strength left, yet somehow, her body managed to continue to writh, to strain against the bonds that kept her pinned to the bench.
"Now, Doctor," said the technician, "what we do is record data. Very simple, yes?"
"Data?" asked Kurt, dully.
"Of course. You don't think we merely gain some perverse pleasure in sticking tits with needles, do you? This is all very scientific. You see."
"Of course," said Kurt, still dazed. He couldn't keep his eyes off those two gorgeous breasts, each with those slender rods of gleaming steel protruding from them.
Fritz now clipped wires to the ends of each nipple.
"These wires are both attached to the same connection. Doctor," he glibly explained. "What we will do now, is to complete the connection ... here."
He produced an alligator clamp. It was less than an inch long. Each of the 'jaws' was serrated with jagged, sharp teeth.
From the end of the clip, another wire extended.
Fritz moved to the girl's crotch. "There is an amazing amount of nerve endings in a woman's clitoris," the man explained, never dropping the academic demeanor. "More, in fact, than in a man's penis. Amazing, is it not? We are going to attempt to measure the sensitivity of the clitoris, under extreme conditions."
He opened the clamp.
He placed his fingers between the girl's thighs, but then, once more, he turned to Kurt. "You, perhaps, would prefer to attach it."
He handed the clip to Kurt, indicating that it wasn't a suggestion so much as it was a command. Kurt held the small object in his fingers and looked down to the woman's cunt. It was a flaming pink in color. Her lips were pouting, swollen, and there seemed to be a layer of moisture all over her crotch. If Kurt didn't know better, he would have thought that the woman was aroused. Her pussy gave every indication of it. So much so that ... oh ... oh my. What's this? No! It couldn't be!
Well, it was. He was getting a hard-on. Now ... how could that be? What on earth was he witnessing that was giving him an erection? The torture and dismemberment of a helpless woman? It seemed almost too much to be believed.
Yet ... that's exactly what it appeared to be. He was staring at the girl's cunt, finding that the sight of those moist, pink membranes were more and more stimulating ... even though his mind rebelled ... resisted ... tried everything that it knew to avoid the reaction.
Nonetheless, his cock continued to grow ... and grow ... and grow ... and grow....
He felt sickened and shamed ... he wished he could have been anywhere but here....
He knew that to be impossible, of course, so he reached for her lips, touched them ... felt the warmth there, warmth like a flame of passion....
Her tissues were indeed soaking wet. It seemed incredible ... but perhaps strong emotion of any sort would produce such a reaction ... a strong sensation of fear ... a strong feeling that danger was upon her ... who could say. That, after all, was the purpose of these experiments, was it not?
He felt the woman's clitoris.
It was stiff.
There was no mistaking the pressure that was packed into that small bud of nerves.
Her moans and the writhing ...-they were real ... the pain was real....
But times that he'd made love to a particularly sensitive woman, hadn't she sounded the same. Hadn't she sounded as though she was getting her tits cut off? He was often amazed by the noise that came from a woman's throat during orgasm....
And now, staring at this woman ... feeling her clitoris, know full well that the agony in her eyes was genuine, he found himself confused. What was the reality here? What was illusion, what was truth? Was she in pain, or was she somehow, through some bizarre chemistry as yet uncharted feeling a pleasure ... pleasure defined in a way that no one yet understood ... but....
He spread her lips wide, pressing up on the soft membranes as he did so. The long shaft of her clit pressed upward, standing out in sharp relief.
He pressed even harder, forcing the sheath of thin flesh to draw back from the tip.
Between his legs, his erection, now stiff as any he'd ever felt, throbbed mercilessly. He was grateful that they were wearing the billowing white laboratory robes. He would not care for it to be known that an erection had resulted from his first encounter with this nasty business. It might destroy what little moral superiority he still retained.
He opened the clip and let the jagged teeth of the jaws close around the tip of the girl's clit.
Her body jerked as if it had been his with a bazooka shell.
She screamed ... of course she screamed ... they all screamed ... didn't they? That's how you knew that they were enjoying themselves ... they screamed.
IMMUTABLE FACT: Women in orgasm, scream.
She screamed.
Kurt saw the moisture on her thighs, felt the moisture on his fingers, brought them up to his nose and sniffed....
There was no mistaking the scent of an aroused cunt.
He looked up at the technician.
"Like that?"
The man was smiling. "Very good, Doctor. I think you're going to take to this work very, very well."
Then, they began to turn on the current.
CHAPTER SIX
Anna thought her ears would explode. If she heard another explosion, she knew that she was going to lose her mind.
"I can't take anymore," she told the head nurse at the field hospital. "I can't take the guns, the explosions, the death ... it's driving me crazy."
The woman had smiled, indulgently, and then had said nothing. She'd written in her notebook, however, and Anna decided that for her own safety, she'd better not attempt to complain too much any more. Barbarossa!
The name, while secret, nominally, was still known. And so was the objective. Barbarossa!
In one fell swoop, the Fuhrer once again confounded all the critics and commentators and struck, surprise, as always, on his side.
The world had waited for him to invade England. The channel was all that hadseparated his armies from the ripest plum on earth ... but did he do it? No.
Instead, against all odds, he'd attacked Russia, transforming an uneasy friend into a frightened enemy.
The Soviet Union, a massive hunk of land, barren in spots, lush in others, peopled by civilizations that were as alien to her as if they'd come from another planet....
And now, on the Eastern Front, Anna found herself advancing with the army, part of a field medical unit the task of which was to provide support for the front lines....
This meant, of course, that she herself would find herself on the front lines, something that she preferred not to happen.
But there was nothing that she could do about it.
Ludmilla had been adament. There was no reasoning with her. Anna had broken so many rules, she said, that there was no longer any possibility that she might remain in any useful capacity. Her credibility had been totally compromised.
Thus spake Ludmilla, and thus, Anna had found herself unceremoniously transferred to the Eastern Front, a place that was already becoming matched in her mind with death and destruction.
She'd heard enough. She'd seen enough. And yet, she knew that it was all just starting.
"Can't you go just a little slower?" she asked the driver. They'd been driving around an unfriendly and alien countryside for what seemed to have been forever.
Nothing was going to make the din of the explosions stop, she knew that, but maybe, just maybe, she might gain a respite from the bone jarring ruts in the road, if only the driver would go a little slower.
The driver said nothing.
"Excuse me," she said once more. "Do you think you could slow down just a little bit? I'm going to come apart at the seams if you don't."
He looked at her with disdain. "We're due there now," was all he said. "Fine. Fine. It's not my fault if we're late, but I'd prefer that we reach the clinic in one piece. Do you think that would be possible."
"Excuse me," he said, "but could you kindly shut up? I'm having enough trouble concentrating on where ... I mean, on what's happening."
Anna looked at him in silence a few moments and then, as he slowed down, pulled to a stop and stood up in the motor car, looking around, she realized his problem.
"You're lost, aren't you?"
He said nothing.
"That's just fine," Anna said with disgust. "Do you even know which direction you've been driving in?"
He said nothing.
"Won't you talk?"
He looked at her. "You're making a difficult task impossible. Please. Shut up."
"I assure you, I shall report you for this behavior."
"You do that, nurse. You go right ahead and do that. I don't want to stop you from doing whatever you feel is necessary for your health and well-being, but in the meantime, shut up I'm not going to tell you again. Just shut up. Do you hear? Shut up. Shut up."
He was starting to get livid. Anna realized that the man may well have already signed his death warrant. There was nothing that was worse than failing to carry out an assignment. Particularly a modestly complicated one such as had been given him.
Get her to the field clinic. That was it. Just get her to the field clinic.
Well, she thought, listening to the shells exploding in the distance (a distance that seemed to be growing nearer all the while), he gotten her to the field ... there could be no disputing that fact.
But as to where the clinic was ... perhaps one of those forks that he'd so confidently whizzed through might better have taken a bit more study and contemplation.
But she knew how it was with the army. They were heady with the smell of victory, and there was nothing that contradicted the notion of victory and invincibility more than a medical unit.
The Wehrmacht didn't need clinics, because they didn't bleed. And they certainly never got wounded....
It was a subtle attitude that she'd sensed many times since arriving in Poland, and then moving on through to the front.
She was now deep inside Russia. There'd been rumors ... but she didn't want to think about them. This was, after all, war ... and there was killing in a war. That was to be expected.
But ... the mass graves ... the long lines of naked civilians, all marching toward the machine gun nests that kept their din day and night....
She'd heard the rumors.
It wasn't possible.
She'd decided that. What did the most powerful army in the world need with such atrocities? It made no sense. And, as she'd decided long ago, things that made no sense simply couldn't exist. It made the world a very easy place to deal with.
Suddenly, about ten yards up ahead and three or four yards off the road, there was a fountain of dirt rising up.
Perhaps there'd been an explosion, but all Anna remembered later was the feeling that a giant hand had rushed up at her and simply flattened her.
The jeep began to swerve. Then, the entire world seemed to turn into a single hell.
Shells began to rain down on them like hailstones.
She saw the earth open, she heard herself trying to scream, she did scream and realized that the sound was swallowed in the noiseless din of explosions too great for her ears to register.
And then, the motor car was flying.
She felt herself floating ... she felt herself turning ... twisting ... and then, she felt nothing but a deep, impenetrable blackness.
* * * * *
She woke slowly. If felt like it was taking her days. She looked around ... saw nothing ... felt nothing ... was she dead?
The first thing that convinced net that was not the case was her nose.
Someone was cooking something, and it smelled delicious!
She opened her eyes, still saw nothing and for a moment was seized by a surge of panic that gripped her like a fist.
She was blind! She'd lost her vision!
But no ... as she regained her bearings, she saw a small line of light ... no, it was. a rectangle of light, etched against the inky blackness.
A door, closed. She was in a room, without light ... while outside the door, there was light ... and dinner being cooked ... and people!
She called out. "Help!!!"
There was no reaction.
"Help!"
The door opened and in walked a large man. He held a lantern high over his head. The light was a pale yellow, though intense.
She squinted and tried to make out his facial features. He seemed to be a peasant ... most likely Ukrainian. He had a thick beard, and his clothes were those of one who had worked the land all his life.
She was frightened.
Her voice ... her language ... her uniform would all have given her away. She was the enemy. But then, that taken for granted ... why was she alive.
He peered closely at her. He spoke, in flawless German.
"You are feeling better?"
She was shocked to hear him speaking to her.
"Yes ... I'm ... I mean ... I think I am. I don't know. I feel like someone hit me for a long time with a stick."
He nodded, as if he well understood the feeling.
"You speak German." she said.
"Yes. I do. I have spent time in your country. Long ago. Before the madness set in."
"I resent that." she said. "The madness of which you speak is going to overrun your country, and I'd suggest that you get used to it."
"Please," he said, "we have saved your life. Are we to be so soon regretful of that act?"
"I'm sorry," she said, meaning it. "I ... it's a difficult time, isn't it?"
"Yes. Are you hungry?"
She realized that she was starving.
"Oh ... yes ... yes...." she said throwing the covers back and climbing out of bed.
She then realized two things, in rapid succession. One, she could scarcely stand on her own two feet without waves of nausea and dizzyness washing over her.
Two, she was naked.
As soon as she realized that she had no clothes on, she made an effort to jump back into bed, but there was no way her legs were going to make it.
She fell to the floor.
"Ohhhh...." she moaned, partly from the pain of slamming face-first into the floor, partly from her embarrassment at being naked in front of this coarse peasant.
"Nanya!" he called out in a loud voice. "Bring some clothes. She's awake."
Another form filled the doorway, and soon Anna realized that a girl roughly her own age was putting clothes on her body. "You...." she started to say. but the girl held a finger to her lips.
"Shhhhh. You are still weak. First, you dress. Then, you eat. Then, you talk."
Anna let the girl's hand dress her, and found that her hunger was the primary reason why she was so weak.
"How long have I...?"
"About a week. We thought you wouldn't make it."
Anna reflected on that. It wasn't the first time people had thought that of her. No ... she was sturdy ... and she was starting to think that she was charmed. Or at least that she was meant for some purpose that had yet to reveal itself. She seemed to continually thwart death.
They fed her ... it was a frugal meal, but nourishing and delicious, particularly in light of the fact that she hadn't eaten for a long time.
"Where am I?" she asked.
They told her. It was a small town, although their own house was well outside the town, which explained why the Germans hadn't come yet. They'd heard the noises of battle, however.
"It will be very bloody, before it is over," said Berel. the father. "I'm afraid that our country is no match for your army."
Anna found this easy to believe.
"But it surprises us," said Berel. "We would have expected you to enlist our support. We would gladly have given you our friendship, and our manpower, if it meant toppling the butcher in Moscow. But no, you seem determined to out do him in terms of your brutality."
"What do you mean?"
Berel fell silent a moment. "I suppose it isn't of your making, is it? You. after all, are a guardian of life, of healing and health. You wouldn't do such things, would you?"
"Do what?"
"Berel," his wife said, her voice rising sharply. "Don't talk of such things."
"Why not'.' It is her people. Let her know what is happening in her name. They are wiping out entire towns. They are butchering at random. Their murders have no reason, they have no cause. They simply exist to destroy our confidence ... destroy our moral. There used to be honor in warfare. It used to be the noblest profession one could undertake in the name of one's country. But you Nazis ... you have smeared the word. You have turned the concept of honor and nobility on its head, and ripped patriotism inside out," he continued, his voice rising.
"Berel!" his wife said agian. "That's enough. There's nothing she can do about it."
"Of course not. There's nothing anyone can do. The time to do something has passed. It has long since passed."
He fell into a thick silence.
"Why did you save me," Anna finally found the courage to ask. "If we're doing these terrible things to you ... why did you save me?"
He stared at her. "Because we are not Germans. We are human."
That set the tone for the next couple of weeks. Anna learned to avoid conversation with Berel that showed any possibility of turning political. And in the meantime, they cared for her. And her strength slowly returned.
But with it came questions for which she had no answers. What was her status? What was the status of this part of the country? There had been no word from the village, because Berel had refused to go in, had refused to allow his daughter or his wife to go in, and seemed more and more intent on isolating himself, perhaps in the futile hope that he could avoide confronting the war head-on.
But Anna realized that she couldn't stay there. If the townspeople found out, there was a chance that Berel's situation could be jeopardized. And if her own people discovered her, Berel and his family would most surely be wiped out. The fact that he'd found her miles from here, nearly dead by the roadside, that he'd brought her back, nursed her back to health knowing full well that she was the 'enemy' would be of no consequence. For she knew that the reports Berel had spoken of were true. She knew what the army, and worse, what the SS was doing. It was unspoken knowledge ... it certainly hadn't been discussed openly among her co-workers ... but the rumors were far too persistent to be simply fabrications. There were even reports of camps inside Poland ... where the ovens ran all day long....
Anna shivered.
It seemed like a horror story, one you read before bedtime, to make the respite of sleep all the sweeter.
But no sleep would wash this away. There was a stain on her, and it was from her own people ... her own race, and in a way, even she was implicated, for she was there to make it possible for more men to remain in the field, for more men to be available to commit the horrors....
And so the time passed ... it was almost a span without time. Anna felt only the growing strength within her. The war was a distant thing. It was something that had nearly touched her ... but then it had moved on ahead, leaving her to wash up on the shore in its wake ... and now. despite her conscious reluctance to admit it, she was becoming attached to Berel, to Nanya, to Berel's wife ... she was finding the small existance that they managed to scratch out for themselves, hidden away in the forest as they were to be almost enchanting ... to be something that she realized she didn't want to leave.
Then one morning, she heard a sound that chilled her.
She heard the rumbling of engines ... a sound that was so unfamiliar out here in the wilderness that it seemed to be almost absurd ... at first.
But it wasn't absurd. It was real ... it was happening.
She ran to the window and saw a small squad of armed soldiers driving up ... only they weren't wearing the traditional grey of the Whermacht. They wore the uniform of the SS. complete with the Death's head and the lightning bolts.
She felt nothing but terror. They seemed to be almost playing at a game, playing at wearing costumes ... playing with people's lives....
And in that moment, she wished fervently that she could have somehow preserved this moment, this tranquil life here ... and at the same moment, she knew that it would have never been possible. She knew that she couldn't count on anything now....
She'd remained here ... she'd lived with these people. Her lot had been cast with theirs.
There were shouts in German ... there were curses ... there screams.
"Out!!!" she heard a voice cry.
As she looked out the window, she saw Berel walking around from behind the house.
"Dog! On your knees," the commanding officer spat into his face.
"I am no dog,' Berel replied in his flawless German.
The two men faced each other a moment, and then the commanding officer signaled one of the men to come. He reached for the man's rifle and repeated, "On your knees dog."
"I am no-!"
It was all he got out.
The officer smashed the butt of his rifle against Berel's cheek. The man staggered but he didn' fall.
Next, the Nazi rammed the gun up into Berel's crotch. Anna, for some ridiculous reason, thought at that moment of Rolf, of the day she'd done something very similar to him, and as Berel went down, hard, she knew that the man's pain was real.
They kicked him a few times, and he slowly curled himself up into a small ball, trying in vain to protect himself.
"Who else is here?" he was asked.
"No one ... it is just myself."
"Pig! You lie."
They kept kicking him ... harder and harder and harder.
Then, finally, they held the gun to his head, and Anna closed her eyes at the explosion. In that moment, she felt absolutely no kinship with the soldiers at all. They were everything Berel had claimed. Butchers ... killers ... mad dogs ... murders....
Berel's wife ran from the back of the house where she'd been watching.
"Berel!!!" she screamed.
The men started to laugh ... they grabbed her and immediately began to slap her around.
"We've got ourselves a bit of recreation, gentlemen." said the commanding officer to the others. "I think perhaps we'll raid whatever we can take from here and then we'll enjoy our hostess's hospitality." He turned to the woman. "What about that, lady? Will you show us some hospitality? Hmmmmmm? Or will we have to force it on you?"
She spat in his face. He punched her as hard as he could in the stomach. She folded up like a limp doll.
He turned to the men. "Quite frankly," he said, wiping the spit off his cheek, "I think I prefer it when you have to force it on them. What do you say?"
The men started to laugh at that and proceeded to move toward the house. Anna realized that she would have difficulty proving that she was German anyway ... but she still felt herself faced with a dilemma....
Should she try to reveal herself ... what should she do?
She realized, suddenly, that Nanya wasn't in the house ... and that furthermore, she didn't know where the girl was.
A shot rang out, answering that question.
She raced back to the window, just in time to see the man holding the woman crumple, a thin red fountain spurting freely from a hole in the side of his head.
They drew their weapons and began to fire in the direction of the woodshed behind the house where the shot had come from.
Anna watched helplessly, paralyzed, as two of the men circled around the other side of the house. A withering barrage of bullets struck the woodshed....
She was convinced that Nanya would be killed ... but then she heard a scream ... another, and another ... and she knew that they were going to spare the girl. For now.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nanya, her mother, and Anna were lined up along the wall of what served as the living room.
The commanding officer stared at Anna.
"I am inclined, almost," he was saying in his clipped, Teutonic syllables, "to believe you. Almost. The old man spoke fluently as well."
Anna said nothing. She could feel Nanya and her mother fixing hot gazes on her,, and she didn't have the courage to face them.
She couldn't shake the feeling that she was betraying them. That she was somehow selling them out.
She knew that wasn't the case.
There was nothing that she or anyone else could do for the two women. They were marked for death, and they were marked for it in the most unsavory manner that these brutes could devise.
But did that mean that she herself necessarily had to die as well?
The officer walked up to her. "You are a nurse?"
"I've told you that."
"Why are you dressed as a peasant?"
"I've told you that."
"Yes. So you have. Let's talk a moment about just what it is that you have told me. You've said that you have lived here for several weeks ... without making any attempt to escape-"
"I've not been held prisoner-" Anna interrupted.
He slapped her hard across the face.
"I don't care if you're the Fuhrer's illegitimate daughter, you'll show respect when you speak to me, and you won't interrupt. Is that clear?"
Anna held her hand to her cheek, nodding silently.
"You seem to have adapted to your lifestyle here rather comfortably. Am I mistaken?"
"They were decent to me. I had no reason to betray them. To cause any harm to come to them."
"No ... I suppose not."
He turned to the others. "What would you say, Hans?"
A blonde soldier with eyes blue as ice stepped forward, snapped to attention with a sharp click of his heels and said "I feel that they are what we have been sent to purge the area of, Captain."
"Yes ... you would."
He turned back to Anna. "I'm afraid, my dear, you've found your way into a nasty trap. You say you are unable to prove that you are German...."
"I told you, my driver didn't know his way, he took the wrong road, drove us TOWARD the front, and right into the path of incoming artillery. We were blown up, and I'm lucky to be alive. I have no papers left ... nothing. I nearly burned to death."
The man was grinning at her. If she'd been facing him under ordinary, civilized circumstances, she might have been tempted to think that the man's expression was one of sympathy. It wasn't.
His hand reached out and touched her on her breasts.
She jumped back, screaming.
"Hans!" the officer called with a sharp snap of his fingers. The blond lept to the captain's service.
It wasn't even necessary for command to be given.
He merely pointed at Anna and the soldier was all over her ... pinning her arms while a second began to rip her clothes from her body.
Suddenly there was a yell and as Anna looked up, she saw Nanya trying to make a break for it.
Two soldiers tackled her immediately and threw her to the ground.
Anna's face was then turned away, and she was spared the sight, but the sounds pounded her ears relentlessly.
The sounds of flesh cracking beneath blows, the sounds of screaming ... the sounds of pain and the sounds of terror....
Anna had felt this terror before.
And now, with total resignation, she realized the awful irony of it all. Her one attempt to crawl out from beneath the terrible weight of that memory had resulted in her transfer to this hell ... and finally had brought her here to this spot.
She felt the material of her blouse tearing, felt her dress being yanked down her hips and her legs, and then, she felt the cold floor against her naked body as she was thrown down onto her back.
She looked up and saw the Captain's boot descending ... closer ... loser ... closer ... But it was not her face that was his target ... it was her breasts.
"You have such fine, firm breasts, my dear ... it would be a pity to have to remove them, would it not?"
She felt her stomach turn to mush.
"Answer me," he said sharply, pressing down harder on her body.
Please, sir . ... I've done nothing to deserve this ... I swear...."
She was begging and she knew it. The reality of everything that she'd been told, of everything that had been drilled into her from the time they were children ... the honor ... the duty ... the loyality ... above all the loyality ... the blind devotion to orders ... no matter what they might be....
It was all coming home to her now.
These men were only following orders.
They were doing what they'd been told. Responsibility rose upwards through the ranks.
It wasn't their fault ... their responsibility ... and there was nothing that they could be expected to do.
These men were the flower of the Reich ... they were the embodiment of everything the Reich stood for, and now, as Anna felt herself being dragged to her feet and saw the captain standing arrogantly before her, she knew that somehow, this was what she'd wanted. All of them. This was the true call to arms that the nation had responded to ... this brutality ... this primal lust for blood.
Hadn't they known?
Hadn't they always known that beneath the pageantry, the festive blaring of trumpets, the parades, the splendor, the glory that rivaled ancient Rome ... this was the core.
This mindless violence that knew no civilized bounds.
She felt her heart throbbing inside her chest.
The blood was rushing through her veins, she was trembling ... she was feeling half crazed.
Her eyes were hurting. There was too much light.
The sound of her breathing struck her ears from within like the roar of a giant machine.
The sensation of anything on her skin ... fingers tightly clutching ... floorboards smooth and cold ... the hot breath of the man pinning her to her place ... all of it felt like razors and needles.
Every one of her senses seemed to have suddenly been honed to a fine edge.
She seemed to be poised in a strange kind of timeless moment ... a revelation threatening to work its way into the rational world, a glimpse at some awesome truth that she was never meant to see.
It was right there, like a word that dances just out of reach ... a face with a name you can't recall ... the realization that not only was this the call that had been answered ... the fear that she told herself now that she was feeling was deceptive ... it wasn't fear ... it was lust.
A hard, mindless, totally non-human kind of sexual heat that was rising now between her legs, bypassing her brain completely.
She was out of control ... shaking from stimuli that were completely beyond her ability to identify.
She knew only that there was nothing that she could do to alter the flow of events ... nor did she want to.
She braced herself.
The man dropped his pants.
She gazed down, forcing herself to look. It was a frightening ordeal, those first moments, seeing his cock stiffening, poised like a weapon to be used against her.
She wanted to flinch, to draw back, but the arms behind her held her too tightly.
He moved closer.
"On her knees," he said, speaking to the blond youth behind her.
Hands pressed against her shoulders, but when she didn't yield rapidly enough to suit them, another hand smashed into her cheek once more ... this time with such force that she saw lights whirling about the space inside her head.
But she was on her knees ... and the man's cock was hanging right in front of her face.
He stepped up to her, holding the tip of his cock right at her lips.
"Suck it, my dear. I want to feel you suck it."
She opened her mouth, let her tongue protrude between her lips, and prepared to suck the man's cock, but he didn't give her the opportunity.
Instead, he immediately rammed the thing down her throat.
Her head recoiled from the force of the thrust, smashing it backwards against the young man's crotch behind her.
Hands gripped her more tightly.
She tried to breathe, but the cock in her mouth made it difficult, if not impossible.
The glans was pressed all the way down the girl's throat, forcing her windpipe shut, to keep her from gagging.
She started to shake, her arms flailing about wildly, feeling the pressure in her lungs mount more and more as her need for air increased by the second.
"Help!" she finally managed to gasp, but it only caused the men to laugh at her.
"She seems to be in trouble," said one of the men, himself preparing to rape Nanya.
The mother was slouched against the wall, dazed, unable to comprehend what was happening.
Her husband was dead. Her daughter was soon to be. She had no future herself ... but there was no escape. There was nothing. The world was an empty shell. There was nothing. Nothing.
Anna felt the man suddenly shoot inside her mouth.
It was quick ... much more rapid than she'd expected. He slammed his hips against her face again and again to force the last drops of jism out of his cock, and then, he stepped back, arrogant as ever, as if she'd deserved nothing more than a quick orgasm. Anna smirked at him.
"What's the matter?" she asked, defiantly. "Is that all the man you are? You can't keep yourself hard for more than thirty seconds?"
His eyes widened. "You slut."
He slapped her hard.
"On her feet," he yelled to Hans, who instantly jerked her upright.
The capttain said "Spread her legs."
She felt Hans sticking his feet between hers, forcing them open. Then, without warning, the captain smashed his foot up between her thighs, ramming the toe into her pussy.
She shrieked.
She felt herself getting nauseous. She felt the world growing dark ... darker ... darker....
The pain ... oh, the pain ... it was too much ... too intense ... too intense ... And then there was nothing.
* * * * *
"Yes, Doctor," said Reichminister Krump to Kurt, "the reports of your progress are encouraging. Most encouraging indeed. I am pleased. I somehow suspected that beneath that facade of weakness, a true Aryan heart beat with German blood."
Kurt was embarrassed by this accolade. He was still reluctant to accept that the reality was precisely as the Reichminister claimed.
But it was.
There was nothing that would contradict that. He'd learned to enjoy his work. Somehow ... some way ... the cries of his victims seemed to become in his mind an anthem of progress and triumph ... and the future once more had seemed to be unlimited.
But there was occasionally a nagging doubt. And when he found himself confronted by such as the Reichminister, having to face the fact that his actions were precisely what such a worthless and awful human as he found exemplary ... it couldn't help but give him pause, force him to reconsider.
Was it right?
There could be no deviation from his course, in any event.
"I must tell you, your work has come to the attention of the Fuhrer himself," said the Reichminister.
"Indeed," Kurt replied, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Quite. He finds the whole area of your study a bit scandalous, but, seeing as how the subjects are all Jews, it can't hurt, eh?"
The Reichminister emitted a loud belch, slapped Kurt fraternally on the back and continued, "Perhaps you could arrange a little demonstration."
"Demonstration?"
"Yes. Demonstration."
"For ... you mean...?"
"Yes. For the Fuhrer. He and his party are going to arrive here tonight. I've assured them that you will be able to produce results ... I certainly hope that I didn't stick my neck out further than you can support, Doctor. That would make the two of us look foolish."
"No ... of course not. I'm certain that a demonstration could easily be arranged...." said Kurt dubiously.
It was too uncertain. But there was enough of the data in, and he'd managed to analyze enough that there could easily be at least an interesting 'demonstration', as the Reichminister so quaintly put it.
"Good," Herr Krump said, satisfied. "Shall we say eight?"
"Fine."
"How many girls will you be needing?" Kurt thought about it.
"Let's not be overly ambitious. It would be better to produce a modest success for the Fuhrer, than to offer up a spectacular failure, don't you think?"
Krump smiled. It was a cold smile.
"Whatever you feel you are capable of dealing with, Doctor."
"Three, then. Let us say three."
"They will be provided."
Kurt left the Ministry with a feeling of excitement that shamed him, and that made him utterly mindless in his passion at the same time.
The strange things that he'd discovered in the course of his 'research' was that the relationship between pain and pleasure was very, very very complex. The line between them was within.
He knew exactly which three women he would produce for the Fuhrer. He also knew that the Fuhrer wouldn't be disappointed.
He forced himself to regain control over himself....
My God. Hitler himself! It was astounding!
* * * * *
The men gripped Anna more tightly. She was on her knees. Her legs were straddling a man on his back beneath her. His cock was even now starting to penetrate the outer rim of her cunt.
She felt the pressure of his cock as it started to slide up into her body.
She felt the head of a second cock.
It was pressing against her asshole.
There were also two fingers in her asshole, first to stretch the opening wide enough to permit the entry of the swollen cock, but then, once that had been achieved, they simply remained there, adding to the pressure against the tight ring of muscle that tried unsuccessfully to close the opening back up.
She felt her body seem to swell as the two most private and sensitive openings were stuffed beyond belief.
The pain was awesome.
She would have cried out, loud as her pinched throat was capable of, except that there was yet another cock in her mouth.
"Suck it ... be gentle...." came the order. She had no idea who was speaking to her.
This had been going on for what seemed to be two days now.
Cock after cock, penetrating her. There was nothing left for her body to do but to accept each new violation, somehow trying to accustom herself to it.
It was not an easy task.
She felt the cocks sliding in and out of her ... she felt the cock in her mouth running down her throat.
She was hurting.
All her muscles hurt ... all the membranes in her cunt were stretched ... all the tissues in her asshole were distorted, distended and otherwise abused and horribly savaged.
She felt her mind floating.
After a while, that's what the pain seemed to do to you ... it detached you. No longer something that you are able to cope with, your conscious thoughts seem to break away and watch from a safe distance as the assault against your ravaged body continues ... the force mounting with each passing second.
She knew that it hadn't really been two days ... but it had been a long time ... long enough for time to no longer have any meaning.
She was simply a receptacle for cocks and cum. She had holes, and they were held no longer any meaning to her existence beyond that.
"You are German, eh?" said the Captain, at some point earlier in the proceedings. How much earlier, she didn't know. But she did know that he'd stopped the rapes, while he spoke to her.
"In that case, assuming that you may well be telling the truth, we shall permit you to witness this, before deciding whether or not you shall suffer the same fate. Watch."
And at that, he'd walked over to the mother, still babbling senseless in the corner where they'd left her after all taking their turns raping her.
The captain started to press the barrel of one of the rifles up her pussy.
She was babbling, she was incoherent ... she couldn't think.
He was pressing it in and out ... in and out ... in and out ... in and out....
He cocked the trigger.
Anna sucked in her breath.
Nanya had cried out ... weakly, but with enough strength to show that she knew what was going on.
The captain had looked back around, smiled ... and pulled the trigger.
There'd been no bullet in the rifle. The click seemed to explode in her ears anyway, and the woman had passed out, and so far she hadn't moved again.
Anna had then watched them beat Nanya's naked body until she too had stopped moving.
They'd taken turns, each of them using a thick, terrible looking whip. They'd had to hold her at first to keep her from struggling, but then, as each of them in turn worked the leather across her once unblemished flesh, they'd had to hold her up to keep her from falling.
And finally, they'd stopped bothering with her ... letting her inert form collapse onto the floor.
Her body was criss-crossed with a bizarre matrix of flaming crimson welts ... all over her.
"She seems to be asleep," one of the soldiers observed with a laugh.
"Then we shall awaken her," the captain replied as he proceed to aim a hot yellow stream of piss from his cock to her unconscious face.
They each took their turns, finally producing some reaction in her.
At which point, they'd all returned to the whip.
The hard leather tip rose, whistled through the air, and cracked against her raw flesh, over and over and over and over.
Each stroke shook the girl's body, both from the sheer physcial force of the blow and from the muscular reaction that it produced in her.
The captain kicked her in the stomach, and then he repeated it, again and again, until she rolled over on her back.
Then, with his black boots, he spread her legs wide. The gaping pink slit of her pussy was facing directly at Anna's face.
The glistening membranes shone like polished stone.
The captain raised the whip, swung, (with perfect aim) and brought it crashing down hard right in the center of her slit.
She shrieked. Anna felt herself getting squeamish. It was the most awful thing she'd ever been forced to gaze upon.
The man raised his arm again, once more bringing the tip of the whip down across the girl's clit.
She was writhing harder and harder now, grinding her buttocks into the floor, as if trying to literally merge with the hard substance.
And again he swung. The sound .that the whip made this time was wet ... almost a splashing noise.
Anna shivered. She felt her muscles going tense in an involuntary reaction. She felt her legs, at the same time, getting weak. She wanted to be sick, and yet ... for some awful reason that she wasn't able to comprehend, the sight was far too compelling for her to look away. She felt as if her eyes were riveted on the sight.
Again and again the man whipped the girl's pussy. The sounds that came from Nanya's mouth were a blend of agonized pain ... and what, on occasion, sounded to Anna's ears like moans of passion ... ecstatic moans of pleasure....
And the warm tingling that sprang from her pussy as the beating continued seemed to be a direct reaction to this sound ... one that her mind told her was impossible, but which the juices from her cunt suggested was all too possible.
The girl finally grew more and more silent ... and her body's reactions were less pronounced.
And when finally she fell silent, her body still as death, Anna was left with a raging heat in her cunt, one she felt powerless to control ... one that had her totally in its control.
And when the cocks began to press themselves into her, one after the next, together, violently switching from cunt to ass and mouth and back again, she found that the pain no longer mattered.
Yes, yes oh God it hurt. It was excruciating.
It was what her body had been made for. The sensations went far beyond anything ordinary. Right and wrong were ordinary terms. This was something that had no words. This was something that redefined her entire universe. This was a level of experience that had never existed for her, not even in her imagination. It was something she was unable to control. Something she merely had to survive, if that was possible.
Cocks ramming into her ass suddenly would withdraw and slam into her mouth. She would taste the layer of her own shit coating the swollen members, and it wouldn't bother her, because she no longer had any ability to interpret ... to analyse ... she merely was experiencing ... feeling.
It truly was a timeless moment for her, past and present swept away in a vicious wave that left her with nothing but an unending series of present moments, links in a chain that had wrapped around her now, held her prisonerforced her to endure whatever they fed her ... forced her to accept it ... forced her to enjoy it ... forced her to say nothing ... to simply continue ... silent ... a study in fright and terror....
And something else ... something she dared not show them. A study in ecstasy.
* * * * *
They were gorgeous. He'd convinced himself of that, and it was quite probably true. Under his guidance, they were given rations that were far more nourishing than those their relatives were given in the camps. Their cheeks were no longer as hollow ... their breasts were full and ripe now ... their thighs, while still slender, seemed to be firm ... strong ... thighs that could grab a man between them and hold him until he satisfied her-!
Kurt looked at those assembled in the room. Reichminister Krump sat in front, of course, a large ball-like shape with a smaller, shining ball on top. Kurt had never been able to prove it, but he was convinced that the man polished his bald dome before venturing out in public.
But of course, the only person that Kurt was aware of sat directly in the middle of the assembled group. He was just like his pictures. His moustache was a perfect rectangle. His eyes pierced like swords. And his laughter was brittle as ice.
He turned back to the girls. "My Fuhrer," ne spoke in a clear voice, grateful that there were no tremors as he spoke, "the exhibition you are about to witness is based on studies that are still incomplete.
"Nonetheless, I can state with fair precision that what you are about to witness can be considered the basis for a challenging new perception on the human mind ... to say nothing of the human sexual responce. And, as in all other endeavors, it will be Germany, and German research that leads the way into this heretofore dark alley, now lit in the glare of the Swastika and the flaming sword of the Reich!"
Laying it on a little heavy there, Kurt, old boy, he thought to himself, but there wasn't anything that he could do about it. He was swept away in the heat of the moment.
It was the Fuhrer ... the FUHRER!!! He was standing right before him! All his petty doubts now seemed inconsequential when measured against the greatness of this man.
His accomplishments paled anything they were measured against. It was surely not too much to ask of Steve that he attack his own assignments with as much fervor and dedication that the Fuhrer brought to the guidance of the country as a whole.
"Pleasure, pain. Yin and Yang," Kurt spoke again. Opposite sides of the same coin.
Something that has always been taken for granted ... but now, we shall demonstrate it beyond a shadow of a doubt." He snapped his hands.
The thin robes that the three women wore were removed. Flat wooden platforms set on one end were placed behind them. Kurt personally supervised the strapping process, whereby each of them was attached to the platforms, their arms and legs spread wide ... their firm breasts pointing directly at the Fuhrer himself. Hitler stared, expressionless. Kurt wondered, how was he reacting to this. There were rumors of a strange puritanical side to the man ... perhaps he would find this demonstration loathsome ... perhaps....
But there was no time to indulge himself in such worries.
He faced the woman.
He snapped his fingers, and once more, the attendants jumped to do his bidding, a choreographed ritual that had been worked out well in advance. Kurt had no intentions of letting anything mar this show.
He turned to the assembled guests. The room was dimly lit, but there were bright lights that would be brought to bear on the central portion of the floor.
"We shall bring them close, for you to see."
The platforms, including the women, were lifted onto stands that allowed the flat bases to tilt backwards in measured increments.
Kurt tilted each woman until the wet slit of her pink pussy was visible to the assembled guests.
He turned to look back at the Fuhrer, his curiosity getting the better of him.
There was unbridled lust all across the man's face. He was smaller than Kurt had been prepared for, but the power, that exuded from his every pore was gigantic, gargantuan ... and there was a sense now that he was rising to the situation ... relating to the images of naked bondage before him ... and Kurt knew that his exhibit would be a success.
He walked in front of the girls.
"The usual methods of inducing sexual arousal ... in a woman," he said, pausing, still uncertain whether or not there would be a negative reaction from the guests, "is one that is ... well known ... with variations, of course, depending on the participants."
He chuckled. There was a polite chuckle from those watching. He was on the right track.
"I shall show you a different technique ... one that these women have learned ... one that they have been trained to respond to ... and you shall see that the implications will extend far beyond the mere titilation of prisoners ... or their captors."
He produced clips ... passed them around for all to see.
"Please, try them on yourself ... attach them to a fingertip ... see the force of the springs ... feel the sharpness of the teeth....
And they did. Hitler pressed the clip against his small fingertip, and then, finding the spring not powerful enough, he pressed the jaws more tightly himself.
He looked up at Kurt and nodded.
He handed it back, and the others did likewise.
"Continue," he said to Kurt. There was an . amazing softness in his voice. Still, the authority in that command was unmistakable.
Kurt approached each of the women. Their pussies were all spread wide. He signaled for the lights to be turned up.
Their membranes were shining from the moisutre that was dripping from within their cunts. He approached the first one, placed his fingers in her lips, spread them apart and watched her clitoris rise.
It was already swollen. The little darlings, they were like Pavlov's dogs. They knew what was coming. After what he'd put them through in the lab, this would be tame ... child's play. They would be able to endure this with no difficulty whatsoever.
CHAPTER EIGHT
He clamped the clip down on the tip of the girl's clit. The sudden intake of breath that immediately followed was clearly audible through the room.
Her body jerked. It was a violent jerk. It was an involuntary spasm, affecting all her muscles. Clearly, it couldn't have possibly have been faked.
Neither were the continuing straining movements against the straps that held her arms tight.
Kurt moved on to the next woman. Her pussy was even wetter than the first woman's had been.
He slipped his fingers into her, felt the soft warmth, knew that he would have his choice of any or all of them, should he desire it ... and he was learning that the special techniques that he was training them to enjoy were becoming almost indespensable to himself as well.
He no longer enjoyed the love of a woman who desired only to make love to his cock, and to feel that cock drive her to orgasm. He'd learned that there was more. He'd learned that it could be taught. He'd learned that he needed it.
He pressed the clip onto her clit. and her body too jerked. She let out a long agonized moan ... her hips buckled upward, her arms and legs pulled hard against the leather restraints, hard enough that it was possible to see the tendons bulging out beneath her pale skin.
The third girl began a long wailing cry even before the clamp was attached to her clitoris.
That, thought Steve, was a nice touch. He'd have to remember to reward her for that innovation.
When the jagged teeth of the clamp sliced into the surface of her clit. the wail turned to a sharp scream. Her body became a study in constant motion.
Kurt turned back to the guests. There was a look of wonderment on Hitler's face. His eyes were wide, and there was a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Kurt could see that there was a slight rise in the crotch of his pants.
He'd heard that the man occasionally experienced performance difficulties, cockwise, that is. It was gratifying to see that the demonstration had already reversed that tendency in him. Even before getting fully underway.
"I want to impress upon you," he said, speaking with more confidence now, "this is not staged. You must be aware of that. It would be all to easy to stage something such as you are about to witness, but there would certainly be no point. It would accomplish nothing that you couldn't experience by visiting any of the cheap cabarets that used to line the streets of Berlin. This ... gentlemen ... is no cabaret act. This is science. It is real. OBSERVE!"
He turned, picked up a small whip and immediately strode to the first girl, tipping her platform back upright about thirty degrees.
Her breasts were jiggling in a series of fine shudders as her whole body reacted to the sharp pain in her clit.
That was something that Kurt had discovered. They never grew used to it. They never grew immune to it. They could be trained to love it. To crave it. To need it. To require it. But they never grew immune and numb to it.
He swung the whip, bringing the leather thongs across her right breast. He purposely swung as hard as he could.
The thongs (there were at least ten, each slightly more than a foot in length) ripped across her tender flesh. The force of his blow was diffused throughout the surface of her skin, transferred to each of the leather straps, and so the danger of her skin actually breaking was minimal, at least for these first strokes. Should he keep it up for several hours or even longer (it had been done, all reactions carefully measured) then one could expect to-see a trace of blood here and there ... but this was not a session in mutilation. This was a session in pain. Carefully controlled pain, and reactions to that pain that had been carefully calculated, and induced.
Behavioral techniques that would make Pavlov jealous.
He swung again. The force of his blow was evident. The sound of the whip cracking against her breast was obvious. The violent jerking motion of the mound of quivering flesh spoke for itself.
But her screams ... that beautiful music. That, finally, would be the proof. There was no actress in the world who could duplicate the horror of that sound, not unless she too found herself beneath the whip.
It was authentic, as much as was possible.
And it was the final effect that electrified the assembled guests.
He could hear chairs scuffling about as they moved to get closer ... to see ... to witness every muscle spasm, to study closely each and every facial contortion ... and to watch their tender bodies reduced to flames....
He swung against the other breast now ... harder even than his first strokes had been.
Her body arched as far as the leather straps would allow. Her face was a twisted mask of pain.
The tendons in her thighs were bulging now, like thick lengths of heavy rope.
Her voice was taking on the qualities of a wounded animal, But she never once begged for mercy. She never once pleaded. Never once even gave him a beseeching look.
That was as it should be. It was as she'd been trained.
He dealt her thirty strokes in all. Fifteen or so to her breasts, making certain that each stroke, no matter what angle of approach, ripped over a portion of her tender nipples. The rest moved down the soft, flat plane of her stomach, and finally, the last and most severe blows were delivered directly to the space between her pussy lips.
The mositure by this time was extreme. The sound was clearly a splashing, wet sound, as the tips of the whip tore through her enflamed cunt. The clamp held in place.
Her screams reached their most awesome, and then, she was left to a quiet series of whimpering sobs.
She had nothing left to do but to remain in place, making soft, sobbing sounds ... Kurt would return to her later.
The next girl reacted much more stoically.
He focused most of his attention on her pussy ... and at last managed to acutally rip the jagged toothed clamp from the surface of her swollen, taut clitoris with one of the blows.
She let her face twist, her breathing was passioned, heavy, labored ... but she made no scream.
Her only sounds were soft, low moans ... and when he was finished with her. there was no question that he'd have been able to continue with her, again and again and again, and never bring her close to her limits of endurance.
But there was more. Not only was she able to endure ... she wanted to endure.
"More," she said, softly. "That's not enough. I want more."
Kurt smiled, satisfied. How he wished he could have these ladies to himself ... for just a few minutes ... no more than fifteen.
But. he told himself, be patient ... continue.
He turned to the third girl while the second continued to beg for more.
This last was the one that was the hottest. Kurt had already proven that many times.
She had been with him the longest. It was she who's breasts he'd pierced with needles the first day at the laboratory. It was she who had first shown him the possibilities of pain and pleasure ... and now, it was she who would-!
There was a commotion behind him. He turned. Oh no. He thought. The Fuhrer was standing. He was about to leave.
No ... no ... he was stepping forward. His coat, which he'd been holding firmly in his lap, was now scattered on the floor. There was a dazed look in the man's eyes.
Kurt couldn't help but notice that there was a bulge ... of sorts ... in the man's crotch, but the size was even more diminutive than he'd been prepared for.
But no matter. There was excitement on his face ... a pleasurable kind of excitement.
"I shall try it. Myself!" he said, enthusiastically.
"My Fuhrer, of course," said Kurt, handing over the whip, uncertainly, but without a doubt that he was doing what was right. It was strange. He'd never expected this reaction.
There was someone moving up beside him now. someone who Kurt had seen before....
Goebbels...? Yes! It was the propaganda minister for the entire Reich. The man who said that you never waste your time with small lies, for they'll never be believed. The only lies you can get away with are those that are on such a grand scale that no one dares to doubt you. Now, he was whispering into Kurt's ear, "Doctor, let him have his way. It's been three years since he's had a hard-on. Perhaps if he gets his fucking rocks off, he'll give the war back to the generals and we might stand a chance of pulling out of this with our asses intact."
Then the little man moved back into the shadows from which he'd materialized, wraith-like, and Kurt turned back to see that the Fuhrer now had his pathetic little cock out of his pants.
The third woman ... Gilda ... she was looking down how, staring straight into the eyes of the leader of the nation ... the man who had placed her and all her people beyond the fringe of human existence. What must she be thinking, Kurt wondered.
She glanced down at the man's cock and she started to laugh.
"You mean," she said, starting to laugh hysterically now, "it's all been for that? Just because you're tiny? You've done this?"
There was a horrified silence.
Then the man ripped into her.
He was berserk ... that much was clear.
He started to swing the whip ... and he continued to swing, a soul possessed by demons.
He focused, it right on Gilda's cunt ... again and again and again, swining with harder and harder strokes ... trying as hard as he could to break her.
But Kurt knew before hand that she would prove to be too much for the man. She had no limits. She was insatiable. Nothing could destroy her, no matter how much he tried....
But he was clearly trying.
He finally threw the whip down in disgust and attacked her with his bare hands.
The clamp remained in place.
The shape of her clit was terribly distorted from the awful force of the jagged teeth that were digging into it, but now, the Fuhrer reached for it and began to press the jaws of the clamp more forcefully, as he'd done to hie own finger.
I le was deranged now. There were none who could deny it. But there were none who would lift a finger to stop him either. None dared risk the kind of death that he was capable of handing out.
He continued to press the jaws of that clamp together, harder ... harder ... harder ... and then, he ripped it away.
Gilda screamed at that, finally, and the scream was of true pain ... but even so, it made no difference.
She had been forced over the line, past marginal, past paradoxical ... and now she was ultra-paradoxical ... the pain produced a true reaction ... it hurt, it was feared ... and yet, it was craved. It fed on itself. The more success he met with her body, the more her body would defeat him.
He tore at her pussy now with his fingers.
He was digging into her. ripping at her., pulling on her lips ... ramming fingers up inside
She moaned the word over and over ... and then, she finally followed it up with that one incomprehensible word, whispered faintly "Yesssssss...."
And the man Hew into a frenzy. He was crazed beyond belief now. He attacked her breasts.
He pulled on them.
He produced a knife from his pocket and opened the blade and began to slice the sharp edge over them.
Blood appeared.
He rubbed his hands in the blood. He was starting to scream himself.
"Whore!!!! Jewess!!! You dare ... you dare ... how dare you...."
He fell off her. Blood was (lowing from the cuts that he'd laid across her breasts, but he was paying no more attention to them. He moved the blade to her pussy, and slowly, ever so slowly began to insert the blade right into the center of her hole....
And Gilda started to scream. And it was a louder scream than Kurt had ever heard her make in her entire life.
The knife went all the way in. If she moved, at all, she would die. The Fuhrer stared. He stepped back. He was staggering. He looked around. No eyes met his.
He was breathing hard. His cock was still hard ... and still small.
He jumped up onto the platform legs spread over Gilda's face. "Move, whore ... I dare you...." he snarled, and began to stroke his cock.
It took him three strokes, no more, to produce sperm. The globs shot out of the tip and fell onto her face. Kurt could see that she loathed having the stuff on her, but there was nothing she could do. If she jerked, her body might move the wrong way and she would die....
Hitler fell back off the platform.
He was spent. He was whimpering to himself. Kurt was simply confused.
Whatever had happened, he'd been unprepared for it, and even now had no idea whether it might prove good or bad for him.
But one thing was certain, there would be no neutral reaction to the exhibition.
Goebbels moved now to Hitler's side.
"My Fuhrer, perhaps you should rest."
"Yes ... yes...." Hitler mumbled, tucking his cock back into his pants. He was shaking.
He looked back at the three girls ... he looked at Kurt.
"You can train them?"
"Yes."
"There is nothing that they won't endure?"
"They can be brought to that point, my Fuhrer."
He nodded, contemplating, and then turned to Goebbels. "Keep tabs on this work, When they feel that they've created the perfect model, have her sent to me ... and I will see."
He turned and left without another word.
As Kurt removed the knife from Gilda, Reichminister Krump waddled over to him.
"Very interesting, Doctor. Very interesting indeed. You were certainly not boring."
"True, Reichminister ... but was that good ... or bad?"
"Alas, we won't know for a good while yet. Meanwhile, I'd see to it that the Fuhrer gets what he asked for."
Kurt turned to the three women. "That will be an easy task to fulfill, Reichminister."
"Mmmmmm ... I see that it might be. Perhaps you'd like some assistance?"
Kurt hated the man. But he knew politics. Handing the man a whip he said, "But of course, sir. It would be a pleasure."
* * * * *
The sturdy blond sat back from his desk, pivoted on his chair and stared out the window.
At last, some news from the Russian front that Rolf found cheering.
Lord knows, there was a damned pitiable shortage.
He looked back at the report from the field making certain that he'd read the name right. He had.
Anna ... he wondered ... how was she. The report was vague, giving only sparse details of her condition when she was discovered. Two factors stood out, however. The fact that she'd apparently 'assimilated' herself into the local culture, and the fact that 'persuasive' measures had been called for indicated that her strength of character had remained undiminished by the years.
He chuckled. It would be interesting. He knew of Kurt's position, of the work he was doing. How convenient for Anna to fall into his lap.
He chuckled some more. Yes, his old nemisis was going to be very, very interested to see the new test subject that he was going to be assigned.
