"You were very beautiful," Kurt said to the young fraulein, as he pushed the door to her dressing room open.
The blonde girl stood up and tried to close the door in his face, but Kurt's black leather boot was already there. She slammed the door on his foot, but the force of his strong arm opened it once again, pushing her back against the far wall.
He looked at the way she trembled as she tried to cover her naked breasts, and he had to laugh at her. His harsh laughter echoed in the small chamber of the room, and when he closed the door, he locked it.
"Rolf said it would be all right for me to come see you," Kurt said, and his boot heels clicked on the cement floor as he walked closer. He reached for her arms and pulled them away, baring her covered breasts.
Her nipples looked more red, and more full than they had seemed to be on stage, when she had been parading herself around. He reached for the panties she had on and tugged at them hard, pulling them away.
"Ach, I see you are not a natural blonde," he laughed.
Heidi slapped him across the face when he laughed at her, and that was all it took to work up the young man's anger. He had paid for this bitch, after all, giving the manager of the club ten marks so he could come back and have his way with her. The fact that she had even tried to cover her breasts backstage, while she had been parading them around in front of an audience of hundreds, seconds earlier, bothered him too.
He started to open his belt, and pulled it out of his pants.
He lashed it out at her, catching her right on the shoulder. As she sunk to her knees, her lips trembling with apology, he moved over.
Kurt grabbed both of her arms and yanked them behind her back, fiercely. Within seconds, he had her hands strapped together, with the belt wrapped expertly around her wrists. The more she struggled to get free, the deeper the leather cut into her flesh, and he did think she was a fool for even trying to free herself.
As he stood directly over her, he pulled her mouth to his cock bulge.
"Soon you will feel this down your throat, my sweet. Then you will feel it in your cunt. And then, I will invade your ass ..."
The Publisher
Chapter One
A hushed silence fell over the club the second the small orchestra began to play.
Rolf surveyed the area. He was happy to notice that only four or five tables were not filled. Recently, since he'd been advertising the new show at the Berlin Club, business had started to pick up.
Once the audience realized that the band was only starting the overture, and that the curtain was not about to open, the noise level increased. Rolf did appreciate the noise at that point, for a good reason.
In order to meet expenses, he had to pay low salaries. He could not get decent musicians for the price he offered, and so, he had settled on some minor players, whose sound was not all that pleasing to the ear.
With talk over the music, most people would not even notice.
"Yah, does it look good?" he heard a voice say, from behind.
Rolf Schmidt turned and saw Ilsa Baron approaching him. He closed the curtain where he had been standing, looking out into the audience, and turned to face her. She wore her leather bra top and a short skirt.
Her knee high black leather boots made her look even more sexy.
"Yah, it looks good," Rolf said to her. "I think that you might do well tonight."
"Has there ever been a night when I do not?" she asked.
He had to smile, as she ran her tongue over her lips, making herself look even more appealing. She knew it, too. Her eyes moved from Rolfs handsome, sculptured face, down over his average priced suit top, to the pants.
Rolf Schmidt was known for having one of the largest cocks around, and Ilsa Baron was one woman who could confirm that. She started to watch the protruding bulge lengthen, and she moved her hand there.
"Perhaps I will have time to fit you in later, Rolf," she said, as she let her fingers wander near the sensitive rim of the head of his cock, something that she could feel right through his pants.
"Yah, perhaps you will," he said, and all he could think about then was getting her to relieve him at that moment.
He looked around, but there was far too much backstage movement. The stagehands were beginning to roll on the first prop, and it was something Rolf himself had come up with. It was something that had shocked the critics, or at least those critics who still felt some kind of religious love.
It was a large, ominous looking black crucifix.
The band continued to play, and Rolf took note of where they were at.
"Where is Heidi?" he suddenly screamed, rather loud, but not loud enough for the audience outside to hear him. "Where is that bitch? She should be on stage now?" There was a scurry of people as they started to look for her, and seconds later, the young girl appeared.
She had straight blonde hair, cut to her shoulders, with bangs on her forehead. She too, like Ilsa, wore a black leather bra, but instead of a skirt, she had on panties to match the bra. She wore no boots, and as she moved closer, Rolf grabbed her by the arm and twisted her wrist.
He looked at the swastika tatooed on her left arm, and smiled. She had just had it done that day, at his request, and when she saw him smiling, she smiled, too...
"You like?" she asked, as Rolf let his eyes wander down to the abundant cleavage she had. It looked even better with the right cut bra top, and they had purposely designed these leather tops to push the girls' breasts up and out.
"Yah, I like," he said, and suddenly, he pulled his hand back and slapped her so hard across the face, that she gasped. "But what I do not like is when you are late, my dear fraulein. The next time you are, it is out on your ass for you. Now get up there and crucify yourself."
He knew, of course, that she could not crucify herself. She could, in fact, manacle her own legs to the bottom, and manacle one of her arms to the top part of the T, but she needed someone else to manacle the second arm.
As she ran out there, she did not even think about it. She climbed up on the small pedestal and did her feet, then her right hand.
She looked over at Rolf for some kind of help, and he laughed. Then, he walked out on the stage and helped her, chaining her other hand, so that, for all purposes, she was crucified.
He stood there and smiled at her for a few seconds, taking definite note, once again, or where the band was at. He would not have wanted to be caught on stage when the curtain opened, but he heard that there was still time.
"Well, my dear, so you enjoy doing this show?" he asked.
"Yah, Rolf. It is a good opportunity to broaden my talent."
"And to broaden your cunt," he said, sliding his hand into her panties.
He felt her soft blonde hairs, then started to rub her red lips. She moaned softly, and would have spread her legs more, had they not been manacled at the ankles. Still, Rolf was able to work one finger into her cunt, and he found her tender love button.
"What are you doing now?" she said, moaning softly, for she could feel the way she was starting to get wet inside. The more he wiggled her love button, the hotter her body was getting, and the more her red nipples were starting to press against the tight confines of her bra top.
"Getting you ready for them," he told her. "You will look so much better if you seem aroused when the curtain parts. Take my word for it, Heidi."
Her juices began to flow, slowly, and Rolf pulled his hand away then. There was no sense in making a mess between her legs, he thought. It was much better to just add the slightest glistening wetness to her cunt.
Anyway, the band was nearing the end of their awful overture, and, he knew that he must get back into the wings of the stage.
He was standing there for the very last note, and stuck his head out to look at the audience, in time to see only two or three people applauding. It did not bother Rolf Schmidt, although he was sure that the members of the band were disturbed. Still, the overture never received much applause.
The acts, however, were a different story.
"You're on, Ilsa," he said to the smashing blonde who was still standing behind him, and she smiled at him.
As she walked past him, to make her entrance in front of the closed curtain, she slid her hand back and squeezed his cock bulge.
"I want you to have time for me after the show," she said.
"If you are still feeling the urgings after the others, I will have time."
He was not sure if she had heard him, because she was already standing in the center of the stage, in the main spotlight.
She had her whip in her left hand, and she cracked it on the floor.
Rolf had to laugh. An orchestra of eight men could not bring the house to total silence, but one girl in a leather bra and black boots, smashing a whip on the floor without much force so that the sound wasn't even too loud, could.
The audience was completely silent, for a few seconds. Then, there were a few whistles, most of which Ilsa met with a smile.
"Mein Damen and Herren," she said, "Welcome to The Berlin Club. I know that you are as happy to see me, as I am to see you."
"We will be happier when we see more of you," one loud man screamed from the audience, and his scream was met with a few more cheers.
"Later, mein horny young man," she said, and they all laughed. "But first, we wish to entertain you. We wish you will think back to the time of Jesus, and imagine that Jesus is a woman.
"She does not die right away, for the Roman soldiers wish to interrogate her further. Let your imaginations move with us."
And as she started to walk toward the side of the stage, the curtain was opening. There were cheers as the spotlight hit Heidi, crucified right before the audience's eyes.
She looked worn, but that was how she should have looked.
Suddenly, there was the stomping of feet, and three men walked on, dressed as Roman soldiers. One, who stood at the apex of the triangle that they formed, closer to the front of the audience, was the leader.
He was a handsome blond boy named Gunther, whom Rolf had taken a liking to. He just seemed to have what it took to entice an audience, especially one filled with as many women as Rolf had in his club.
"You are Jesus?" Gunther said to Heidi, and the audience laughed.
"Yah," she said. "What of it?"
"I am here to see if you really believe that you are the daughter of God."
"I am. I believe it. It is only you who must be convinced."
He pulled out the whip he had strapped to the side of his leather belt, and lashed it out at her. At the same time, the sound man, sitting to one side, cracked a whip down on the floor, coinciding with the young man's lash.
That way, Rolf knew, Heidi wouldn't end up with many bruises on her body each night, because if Gunther would hit her too hard, she would have to be replaced in a week.
Most of what they did on stage had to be simulated anyway.
"I will only believe it when you convince me," he screamed. "Guards, take the bitch down and tie her up."
The other two men, equally as blond and Aryan as Gunther, walked over to the crucifix and unclasped the manacles.
They pulled her down, and slapped her hard across the face.
"With what shall we tie her up, sir?" one of them asked him.
Gunther reached for her bra top and ripped it right off. Her nipples seemed to be sticking out straight and hard, and Rolf smiled from the wings as he saw it. She was still very much aroused, or so her nipples seemed to show.
The audience gasped, and a few howled with laughter when they stripped off her bra and bared her breasts.
"Use this," Gunther said, and the two men pulled the young girl's hands behind her back and started to bind her wrists with the leather bra top. It was easy to tie her tight, and that part was not simulated. It was for real.
"Why do you humiliate me so?" she asked him, as she was forced to her knees.
She was facing the audience as Gunther leaned down and moved his hand to her black leather panties. He pulled them hard, too, and tore them off, baring her naked cunt. Her lips were still red, and wet, and the spotlight hitting her made them glisten.
"That is humiliation," he laughed, as he slid his fingers into her cunt for only a second, and massaged her erect clitoris.
Then, he started to move in front of her, and he spread his legs wide apart. From the audience, one could see her from the neck down between his legs.
There was the sound of unzipping, aided by the sound man off stage, so that the audience would hear it.
As Rolf looked though, he was amazed. Gunther was really opening his pants this night, and he was really taking out his cock.
It was long and hard, and almost gold in color.
He started to slap her across the face, speaking his lines over this. It was a variation from the normal act, for Gunther was not supposed to take himself out of his pants now. But as he was speaking, talking about the only true way to test if she is the daughter of God, he was starting to move his cock to her mouth.
At first, she looked upset, for it was not her job to do him.
But then, he grabbed her by her long blonde hair and slapped her across the face.
"A daughter of the Lord should be able to satisfy me faster than most women. She should be better than any woman, would you not agree, men?"
"Yah," they both said, and they both had their eyes on him.
He slammed himself into her mouth, and she let out such a loud moan, that Rolf was wondering what the audience might be thinking.
Something like this, actually happening, could cause the police to come in and close his shop. By law, everything had to be simulated, and when they were supposed to get to a part like this, the men were not to be hard.
And yet, Rolf was watching Gunther sliding his fully erect cock in and out of the girl's unwilling mouth. Gunther was holding the back of her head, so that she could not pull away, and he was managing, rather well, to say his lines without moaning too much. Of course, as far as the audience knew, he was supposed to be fucking her face.
The moaning was supposed to be part of the action, but this night, Gunther . moaned with more intensity, because of what he was really doing.
Luckily, only the people backstage and in the wings, and those others on the stage, actually knew what was going on.
Gunther started to moan even louder, and now that he had finished his speech about the daughter of the Lord being able to give him a blow job, he started to moan even louder. Rolf began to hope this boy knew what he was doing.
Then, he watched the way Gunther's face looked. The boy was getting redder and redder in the face.
And then, Heidi began to gag a little bit, and Gunther was really coming in her mouth. He thrust in and out even faster, and Rolf was shocked when he saw the way some of the white cream started to drip out of the side of her mouth.
If that bitch didn't swallow his come, the owner kept thinking, then when he pulled away, they would all know that it was a real orgasm in the audience, and he could get into such trouble.
His liquor license could be taken away and kept for a few months, and something like that could ruin him. He started to get red in the face as he felt Ilsa moving her hand all over his groin. She knew what was happening, and she seemed to understand what Rolf was thinking about.
"Do not worry. Gunther has a good head on his shoulders," she whispered. "He also seems to have a nice piece of cock between his legs."
"Stay away from him, unless you want trouble," Rolf told her.
"You know that trouble is my middle name, mein herr," she laughed.
Rolf watched as Gunther started to pull his cock out of her mouth, and she let more cream drip down the side. He moved his hand to her face quickly and began to rub the cream all over her skin.
With his other free hand, he was pushing himself back into his pants, and zipping himself back up. By the time he moved away, her face was covered with a thin layer of his come, and the audience really didn't know the difference.
As far as they were all concerned, it had been simulated. Rolf heaved a sigh of relief, and watched the scene progress.
Gunther slapped her across the face a few times, and the two men with him laughed.
"Hah. She claims to be the daughter of God, and yet, I have received better blow jobs from cheap whores who work the street."
"You should know a lot about that," Rolf whispered to Ilsa, who gave him a dirty look.
"Perhaps she is a cheap whore of the streets," one of the other two actors on stage said to Gunther.
"I think that is true. I believe that this girl, in order to avoid her calling, is claiming to be the daughter of God."
"You will all die slow deaths," she screamed at them. "My Father, the Lord, will cast evil all around you for treating me this way."
Heidi was saying her lines with more feeling than ever this night, because of what Gunther had done to her. Backstage, he had been joking with her, telling her that there were to be a few changes that night that he and the boys had decided upon, but when she had asked what they were, he had told her she would find out.
She had found out by having to take his come in her mouth.
The other two soldier-actors started to laugh after she cursed them, and then, they pulled her up to her feet.
"Perhaps if she does not have a good mouth, her cunt will do," one of them said. "Maybe she has the cunt of thy daughter of the Lord."
"Perhaps. The Lord is great. Her cunt should be great."
"So I've been told," she said, and the audience did laugh at that line, which Rolf thought was good, since it was a joke.
"I do not mean great in thy sense of it being any good. The Lord is great and all around. I'm talking about your cunt being big," Rolf said.
"Only one way to find out. If she is big enough, she should be able to take on two."
Suddenly, Heidi gasped, which was in the script, but that time, she had another feeling. The double fuck simulated scene was coming up now, and she suddenly began to think that once again, it was to be real.
They pushed her down a little bit, so that she was leaning forward. Her ass was facing backstage, where none of the audience could see. Once again, there were the sounds of two zippers opening up.
And that time, the two soldiers really opened their zippers, too. She did not turn around to look but she felt two hard cocks rubbing against her ass. They managed to move together, and guided themselves into her cunt from behind.
She let out a scream, which was also what she was supposed to do, but this time, it was for real. All of a sudden, there were two hard invading organs in her body, and much as she sometimes enjoyed it with men, two at once was hard.
One of them slid his hand around to her cunt in the front.
He started to finger her, and she could feel herself getting a little bit more wet. But it still hurt a hell of a lot, and she was really in tears.
Suddenly, Heidi stopped thinking about what they were doing to her, and started to concentrate on the leather bra. Usually, it was bound around her wrists, but it was never that tight.
Since those bastard men had changed the script without telling her, she thought that she might do just the same. Once she had her hands free, she would start to fight with them, and then, what would happen would happen, she thought.
Even if they just had to close the curtain, it made no difference to her.
But as she struggled, she realized something. They had really tied her hands tight, and there was no way out. The more she struggled to get free, the harder the leather seemed to be cutting into her, and then, she realized why.
One of the men was holding onto the bra, twisting it a little bit more, so that it was getting tighter.
Meanwhile, offstage to the right, Rolf was thinking of his heart. All he could think about was dying. They were ruining the act that he had so carefully put together. Why hadn't they jerked off before getting on stage, the way he had always told them to, so that they would be limp when they pulled themselves out, and not hard and ready to really do what they were only supposed to simulate.
He quickly glanced out at the audience to see if there were any police, but he was happy when he didn't spot any.
He looked back at Heidi's face, and could see her looking directly into his eyes then, in the hopes that he might do something to help her.
There was nothing that he could do except close the curtain, and when he looked at the audience and could see how involved they seemed to be in what was happening up on stage, he knew that there was no way in the world he could do that.
When she opened her mouth again, as if she was going to scream, Gunther moved his hand there and covered it.
She bit his hand, and he started to slap her across the face.
Rolf was going crazy there, and now, even Ilsa's soft hand rubbing over his cock bulge could not appease him. He wished that they would get back to what was written in the script, for all of this was a variation, and he had no idea where it was going.
Gunther slapped her across the face a few times, knocking the wind out of her.
"Let me try her mouth again," he said, and when he moved in front of her face, he pulled his cock out of his pants again. He started to ram it into her mouth, for it was still hard.
She gagged around it as she felt it begin to enter the back of her throat, and she could feel the way the two cocks in her cunt were still moving, also.
She started to feel some kind of pleasure from the way one of the boys still kept his fingers near her love button, wiggling it gently, but she felt that the two of them inside of her cunt was too much.
Plus, she hated having it done in front of a live audience, who were so into what was happening, that there was not a sound.
The two men behind her started to moan at the same time, and she felt that they were both pulsing at the same time, too, which was even worse for her. With that happening, she was being stretched out even more.
Gunther began to massage her nipples as he kept moving himself in and out of her mouth, and at times, he pressed himself in so deep, that his balls were rubbing right against her chin. He started to moan loud as he felt himself ready to come.
Both men pulled out of her cunt and started to jerk themselves off then, and Rolf couldn't believe that.
They started to come right on her buttocks, but he was happy as they each moved a hand to her cheeks and started to rub their cream into her flesh, the same way that Gunther had rubbed his cream on her face.
But as for Gunther now, Rolf didn't know what was happening.
Was the man really going to come again, so soon after coming before? Or was he just fucking her face and simulating his orgasm.
Rolf never knew it, but Gunther did come in her mouth, or rather, deep in her throat. He started to feel the pulsations getting more and more fierce, and he drove himself deep into her mouth and started to come there.
As he did, he leaned over, and moved his hand to her neck.
"Continue the scene as written, or I'll kill you for real," he whispered, for although he had varied from the scene, he knew that they had to get back on the track and finish the script as written.
She had to go along with it, too, or else they would all be ruined.
He could see a flash of hate in her light blue eyes, and he wondered if the bitch was going to listen to him. He started to squeeze her neck slightly, and he thought that he could even feel the pulsations of his cock through the skin near her throat.
"You do as I tell you, bitch," he whispered to her again.
He finished coming in her mouth, and was happy to see that she had not spit his come up. Nothing was dripping from the side of her mouth then, and she looked good.
As he pushed her down, she slumped to the floor.
He and the other two quickly covered their cocks, and pulled up their zippers, and then Gunther turned to face the audience.
One of the two men looked down at her, and seemed scared.
"She's dead," he said, getting back to the script, and Gunther was happy that she did just lay there, and didn't move at all.
"Yah, she is dead," he said.
"What will happen? Do you think we have killed the daughter of God?"
"If she was, she would not be dead," he said. "Hang her back up."
The two of them lifted her up, and started to place her back on the crucifix. They manacled her hands and legs, and this time, the spotlight hit her body and she was totally naked. Most of the men in the audience moaned, or let out screams of approval, for she did look magnificent there.
As Rolf looked at her, he thought that she looked even better because she had really been fucked over that time, and there was a lot of color in her body. It was the sexual heat color which made her look more appealing.
"I believe that she could not have been the real daughter of God," Gunther said, looking right out at the audience.
"But what makes you think that?" the second soldier asked.
"The real daughter of God would have given better head, for sure. And she seemed to be a lousy lay. Leave her and let them think she died on the crucifix."
"Auf Wiedersehen to bad fuckers," one of the other men said, and the audience was hysterical as the curtain began to close.
There was a burst of applause, and as soon as the curtain was closed, the two men helped Heidi down again, so that she could stand naked between the three of them as she took her curtain call.
Each time the curtain opened, she would smile and bow, along with them, but each time that it closed, she glared at the two of them with hate.
They received three curtain calls that night, and as soon as the curtain was closed for good, there was the general hustle behind stage.
The stage hands began to pull the crucifix off, and they started to slide in the mud wrestling ring, which was the next act. Ilsa walked in front of the curtain and started to sing a song. Rolf felt that her voice was worthy of the lousy band, since she was quite a horror herself.
But she did move well, and she knew how to grind her hips and shake her tits around enough to make up for her lack of singing talent. The men in the audience seemed to love her no matter what she did.
Heidi walked right over to him after she slipped into a robe.
"What the hell was going on here tonight?" she asked him. "Did you know that they were going to take me on stage?"
"Nein, Heidi," he said. "But you must admit that all went well, and the audience never even knew what was happening to you. Plus, they loved it more than ever."
"Well I did not, and I refuse to do it again unless you have a talk with them."
"I will, Heidi. Trust me. I will."
"Now, Rolf," she said to him, with such a great deal of strength and courage.
All of that subsided as he slapped her hard across the face.
"Look, you little tart, never talk to me this way again, or I'll throw you back into the streets where I found you. I already told you that I would take care of it. Now go to your dressing room. I'm sure that there will be many clients who want to meet you in the flesh now. Get ready. Clean out your cunt."
"You bastard," she said, as she turned and left.
Rolf watched Ilsa finish her song, and she took a bow. One man threw a single red rose up on the stage, and she smiled at him. Rolf looked at the man because he didn't really like the idea of any customer getting too close to his girls.
True, he did allow men to pay for some of the girls, and take them backstage in their dressing rooms, but that was only sex. A fuck was a fuck, no matter what, he thought. But a rose was something different.
As he looked, he decided he would not say anything.
The man who had thrown the rose was wearing a Nazi uniform, with a red swastika band on the right arm. The Nazis were becoming more and more powerful, and Rolf knew how bad it was to get on their wrong side.
He had even started a policy of letting the soldiers in free, so that they would treat him well in return. Although he did not like the idea of this young soldier making eyes at his favorite girl, he said nothing to her when she walked backstage.
"Shall I go out and introduce the next act yet?" she asked, and he slapped her.
"Take one look, and you will see," he told her. Anyone with half a brain would have looked behind the curtain. There were still too many stagehands there.
When they finally had the ring in place, the two girls who were to fight stepped into it. They took off their robes, and both were barechested, and wore only panties.
Then, Ilsa walked in front of the curtain, and the men cheered for her again. She started to introduce the act, and as she did, Rolf decided to go have a talk with Gunther.
As he walked toward the young boy's dressing room, he was happy to get away from the crowd in the front.
He knocked once, then opened the door.
The young girl on her knees in front of Gunther looked up, pulling her mouth away from his hard cock, which she had been sucking.
"It's all right," Gunther said, and he moved his hand behind her head and pushed her mouth back down. Even as Rolf stood there and watched, the young boy started to move his hips up and down.
Rolf could hear the way the girl was gagging.
"I found her waiting here for me," he said to Rolf, between moans. "A Gunther groupie, so it seems. She saw me on stage a few times and wanted me."
Rolf was starting to think then. The men in the audience paid to be with some of the women backstage, so why couldn't the women in the audience do the same? It angered him that he had not thought of it earlier, and this woman was getting to suck on Gunther without having to pay for him. All of that, he thought, will change.
"I am surprised to see that you can still keep it up," he said to the young blond boy instead. "Two orgasms on stage, and now this."
"Well there was something exciting about doing it on stage," Gunther moaned softly. "None of them out there knew that we were doing it for real."
"Yah, but I did, and did not like it," Rolf told him.
"I saw the look on your face, Rolf, and you cannot tell me that you did not like it. Perhaps you were shocked. Perhaps you were thinking of how your place could be shut down because of something like that, but you enjoyed it. Ilsa's hand never left your groin. You enjoyed that."
"Heidi did not, however," Rolf told him. "She came to me and complained, and said she never wants it to happen again."
"Fuck that whore," Gunther said, and then he laughed. "Oh yes, that is just what I have done anyway, right?"
"And you will no longer do it," Rolf said, in an authoritative tone.
"I will. I am tied of masturbating myself before I go on. I have a great deal of stamina, Rolf, and even when I do masturbate, I am still hard at times on stage. I think that the act worked better this way, and so did the other boys."
Rolf didn't know what to say. There was something so overpowering about young Gunther, and he just couldn't answer.
He watched the way the boy kept thrusting his hips up and down, and he could see the thick golden cock shaft disappearing between the young girl's eager lips. She had her eyes on Gunther's boyish face the whole time.
"Yah, I think that I'm going to come," he started to moan, and then, he held the girl's head hard and began to slam himself in and out of her mouth.
Rolf could hear the hard slapping sound of flesh against flesh, and Gunther was hearing it,, too. In fact, he was enjoying the sound, for it was starting to make him pulsate even harder. He pushed his way deep into the girl's throat.
Then, he started to come, and he was moaning loud, as she moaned with some pleasure, too. Her eyes looked as if they would bulge out of her head, but she didn't try to pull her mouth back away from his cock, even for a second.
She just kept sucking for as long as he kept her down there.
And then, as soon as he had finished coming, he let her stand.
"Out," he said to her, sternly, and when she tried to protest, he slapped her hard across the face. "I said, get out. Did you think you would get anything more from me than a blow job? Any girl who would throw herself at a man the way you threw yourself at me is a cheap whore. Now get out."
Rolf opened he door, and Gunther had to physically push the young girl out into the hall. He slammed the door shut.
"Now, Rolf, let me continue. There is no doubt in my mind that the show went better tonight that it ever did. The audience was wild with applause, and the difference came because reality is far greater than anything we can simulate. There was a glow to that whore Heidi's body when she was left crucified at the end. I will admit that there was some doubt in my mind as to whether or not she would get back to the script, even after I threatened to kill her."
"You did what?" Rolf asked, as the anger rose in his voice.
"It was just a threat, on stage. Do not worry. No one heard it but the whore, and she carried on as usual. Now, Rolf, if you would excuse me, I must change for my next act. It was nice talking with you."
And as Gunther ushered him outside, then closed the door, Rolf realized that he had not settled things. Perhaps, he thought, it was better for the act, only Heidi was going to be quite surprised the next time it happened to her.
Chapter Two
After the wrestling act, there was usually a long intermission between the next act, and that night, it was no different.
As the two girls fought with each other, ripping at hair and at tits, which the audience always went wild over, they were also splashing their mud all over the stage.
By the end of the fight, both girls were covered in brown from head to toe, and most of the stage was covered with mud. The audience cheered as the girls took their bows, and then, the curtain was closed, and the stage hands came out with buckets and mops. After pushing the portable ring off the stage, they started to mop up all the mud so that the stage would be clean for the next act.
It was then that Rolf took his place near the backstage entrance, and he was happy to see that there were, as usual, men lining up.
"I am with a friend," the first man said. "He is there. We would like to meet the girl with the blonde hair who wrestled."
"Yah. That is Ingrid. Give her a few minutes and she will be ready, unless you wish to slide with her mud."
"Nein, I will wait. How much will she be?"
"Twenty marks for two," he said. "For fifteen minutes. Is that all right?"
"Yah," the man said, and he counted out his money.
As the man walked into the back, he was directed to Ingrid's room. His timid looking friend followed, and they knocked on the door.
"Enter," the stunning blonde Fraulein said, and she greeted them with a smile.
"We have come to meet you," the more brave man said.
"Well, here I am. I am Ingrid. And who are you?"
"I am Orst, and this is my cousin Orlaf. He is a virgin, you see."
Ingrid took one look at the man. He wore wire rimmed spectacles, and from the way he held his hand in front of his groin, and seemed to be picking at his fingers, she could tell. He was shy and quite nervous.
"Yah, well I have dealt with virgins before," she said. "It will be easy. Come to me, Orlaf, and let me touch you."
She stood up as the young timid boy moved closer. She pushed his hands away from his crotch, and started to rub the bulge. There was nothing happening there, and she rubbed him harder. As she did, and nothing happened, she felt more frustrated.
She turned to Orst, and moved her hand to his crotch.
She was, at the time, wearing only a skimpy robe. As soon as she had come out of the ring, she had showered, and she had been able to do it before the other girl, because she had been triumphant that night.
She started to feel Orst's hard cock through his pants, and she noticed the way he was more brave. He moved his hand to her breast, reaching right into her robe. She felt the way he touched her red nipple gently. She started to open his zipper, and reached inside of his pants.
His cock, she noticed was no smaller or larger than most she had seen, but she was not going to let him know that. She started to tell him how flattered she was to be seeing such proud organ, and she slid her fingers toward the head and pulled back the thick layer of foreskin.
It was only then that she noticed the way Orlaf was breathing heavier. She moved her hand to his crotch, and felt that he was hard. Still, he didn't seem to respond so much when she touched him.
She started to think that maybe these cousins were closer than they were letting on, although, she did not want to say anything.
"How would you like to do it?" she asked Orst, realizing that she only had about ten more minutes. Usually, during the intermissions, she and the others would take on about four or five different people.
And she knew, too, that even though there were two of them, Rolf would still allot her the same amount of time.
"I would like for you to get on your back," Orst said to her.
She lay down on the small bed in the room, and opened her robe. As she did, Orst let out a loud moan. She turned to Orlaf then.
"Do you not like what you see? I have been told, by many men, that my tits are the finest in the world. By men who have traveled the world, so I know to believe what they tell me. They would not lie about these things."
Orlaf seemed so embarrassed, and she was getting upset with him.
If he did not make a move for her soon, then he was going to have to leave without coming. Of course, she didn't mind if he did, but she did not want him going and telling Rolf that she had done nothing for him.
"Orst, come and fuck me, and show me how good you can be."
She sat up for a second, reached for his cock, then pulled him closer to her cunt. She rubbed the head of his cock against her cunt lips. Then, as she pulled her hand away, he thrust into her hard. She felt herself beginning to spasm around him gently, and she moaned softly.
It was all right, she knew, but she was something of an actress, and the idea was to let him think that he was truly sensational. She thought that his hand technique on her breasts was rather clumsy, but why let him know? Let him wait until he marries and his wife tells him, she thought, for surely, no woman who was being paid to satisfy him would dare to tell him.
The more Ingrid thought about that, the more she realized how it just helped develop poor lovers in the world. Many men turned to paid women for sex, and those paid women would never criticize what the man did, therefore, letting the man think he was doing well. He would most likely continue to do the same things from woman to woman, as long as none of them complained.
Ingrid did not want to be the first one to tell Orst that he knew nothing about the stimulation of a woman's breasts.
Still, she was more interested in his cousin, just to get him near her.
"Come, Orlaf, and I will let you use my mouth," she said, but he did not move closer to her. "I said come here, Orlaf."
"I think that he is too shy," Orst started to say to her.
"I think that he is not normal," she moaned. "I think that he might not even like me. Or any other women. I am giving him the chance to lose his virginity. My tits are a wonder of the world. What is wrong with him?"
"What are you saying?" Orst asked her, and he thrust harder. "What are you saying about my cousin? I do not understand."
"Do you not?" she asked, with a tone of sarcasm in her voice.
"You whore," Orst said to her, and he started to thrust harder. At the same time, he began to slap her across the face.
Ingrid reached for his hands and held them, but he broke free. Then, all of a sudden, she felt something being snapped around her wrists. Orlaf had pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket, and he had cuffed her wrists together.
Orst pulled out of her then, and pushed her legs up through her arms, so that her hands would be cuffed behind her back.
Then, Orlaf started to pull his cock out of his pants.
"Ach, I see. He cannot do it unless the woman is totally helpless," she said. "Or maybe he cannot do it unless he has his cousin to watch and ..."
She said no more, for Orlaf pulled her head back and rammed his cock into her mouth. He started to thrust in and out as hard as he could, and she could feel the way his heavy balls were resting on her nose.
Meanwhile, Orst was moving back into her cunt. He rubbed his cock there for only a few seconds, then rammed his way back in.
She felt how Orlaf started to pluck at her nipples so hard, and she hated the way that it was feeling. And yet, she just wanted it to end soon. She wished that she could have looked over at the clock to see what time it was.
For she knew that any second, Rolf or Ilsa would be knocking on the door, telling her that her time was up.
She felt the way Orlaf started to pulsate in her mouth soon, but when he slowed up so that the pulsations subsided, she was mad.
She tried to look up and see what was on his mind, but all she could see were his balls, and nothing else.
Then, she noticed the way that Orst was thrusting in and out of her harder and harder, and he was moaning loud, too. She was so sure then that Orlaf was watching his cousin as he was nearing orgasm.
She felt her cunt getting a little bit wetter, and then she felt the spurt of cream inside of her body.
As she did, she thought about something she always thought of when a man was filling her up this way. She could remember being strapped down to the table, with her feet in the clamps, being scraped.
One fetus, and then, he had cut her so she would never have to worry about that again. She would never become pregnant.
Now, she loved the way she felt when cream filled her up, for she never had to worry about anything happening after that.
She felt the way Orlaf started to thrust in and out of her mouth faster, just after Orst had come inside of her, and she soon felt him pulsating. She didn't even move her tongue to the tip of his cock as he was coming, something that she knew would bring him more pleasure, because she didn't think he deserved it.
And, in the end, even as he came in her mouth, he was still a virgin.
He had not fucked her cunt, nor would he have the chance, for she could feel him starting to go limp as she sucked the last of his come out. He pulled himself out of her mouth, and smiled down at her.
"There, you whore. I knew that I would be able to do it."
She said nothing. She knew that she had many things to tell him, about what she thought must have really turned him on, but she knew how risky it would be to say it while she was still cuffed, and therefore, vulnerable.
Orst pulled himself out of her cunt, and stood by her side.
"Well, Orlaf, do you want to fuck her cunt now?" he asked.
"No, he cannot. Your time is up. Surely Rolf told you that you will have fifteen minutes and that is all. The time is up."
Orst walked over to her and pulled her head up off the bed, by her long blonde hair. He started to slap her across the face, but just as he was doing it the third time, the knock came on the door.
"Time is up," she heard Rolf saying.
"Rolf, please, help," she moaned, and he pushed the door open.
He saw the way they had her cuffed, and saw the way the boy was holding her up by her hair. He pulled his whip out from his belt and lashed it out at Orst. Rolf was considered, by some, to be the master of a whip. He was able to hit the boy right on the back of his hand, without hitting Ingrid at all.
"Leave her be. You two get out of here, now."
They both started to leave, and Ingrid yelled out that they had left the cuffs on. Orlaf came back and opened them, and as he did, she spit at him.
He turned and left, and Rolf closed the door.
"Now what was going on with those two, Ingrid? Really, you are something of a sphinx as far as I'm concerned. You bring out the evil in men."
"Send me two who are men, and not one half-man, and I'll be better off."
"You have always been able to handle two at once, and you have always been paid well for it. More than the other girls."
"Yah, I know that, Rolf, and I appreciate the fact that you send them to me. But no more for the night. Just single men, all right?"
"All right. If that is the way you feel. But I thought you might be interested in the next two. They both thought that you were beautiful out there, and he and she are both interested in meeting you."
"You have hit my weak spot, you bastard," she laughed. "Who are they?"
'"Just a couple. The man brought his wife to the cabaret tonight, and they both thought that you were the best. As a matter of fact, he told me that his wife was sucking him off under the table as he watched you. She would like you, too."
"Send them in."
Rolf kissed her on the forehead, and then left. As Ingrid sat, she started to smile. She knew that she loved men and women, and sometimes, women even more. For men could tend to get brutal at times, and cause pain, whereas, she had never been with a woman who was not always gentle.
She could remember the first woman that she had ever been with, for it had been her sister who was two years older.
Inga had married a brute of a man, something that Ingrid had thought before she even got to know the man better. She had just seen the way he treated Inga, and yet, no matter how much she had tried to talk with her sister, Inga didn't want to hear it.
She had married the man at age seventeen, and Ingrid, who was fifteen at the time, had been the maid of honor.
Three months after the marriage, Ingrid went to visit her sister. She arrived one night, while the man was home, and although she thought, still, that he treated her sister like dirt, she could see that her sister was not protesting.
That night, she had thought she'd heard the sound of lashings coming from their bedroom, followed by loud groans.
But it was not until the next morning, when she had a chance to talk with her sister, that Inga broke down.
She said that he beat and abused her all the time, and that she had not known a moment's tenderness since marrying him.
As she had cried, Ingrid had carressed her hair, and soon, Inga had been hysterical in her arms. Ingrid didn't even remember who kissed who on the lips first, but once it happened, there was no way either girl would stop.
They looked quite similar as they undressed for each other, except for the whip marks all over Inga's poor flesh. There were many red marks that were from the whip lashing her, and many scab marks from those bruises that had opened, bled, and started to heal themselves.
There was one large one right on Inga's breast, and when Ingrid saw it, she moved her mouth to it and licked the flesh.
That was when she thought about how good flesh tasted.
For she had been a virgin at the time, never having let a man touch her, and her sister's naked flesh was to be the first flesh she would taste. She slid her tongue up to the girl's nipple and licked it gently.
As she ran her tongue in a circular motion around it, it stiffened more.
As she had been licking her sister's nipple, she had noticed the way that Inga slid her hands down between her own legs. She started to play with her cunt lips gently, and as she got wetter inside, they spread apart.
She began to massage herself even harder, and soon, Ingrid had been licking her way down between her sister's legs.
She had started to suck on the little stiff button she could see, and she heard the way Inga moaned even louder.
Then, she had moved around, so that her cunt was over her sister's face, and she loved the way that Inga started to eat her. She sucked on the lips first, until they were wet, and then she sucked on the love button.
Soon, they had both been coming, and Ingrid had felt the sensations of her very first orgasm, running through her entire body. She had even started to thrust her hips up and down, feeding herself to her sister's mouth, in a sense.
They had made each other come a few times before resting, and then, Inga had told her that if her husband ever caught them, they would be in great trouble.
For the duration of her stay, whenever he would leave, Ingrid and Inga would start to make love to each other.
Only much later in life, at age twenty, had she been with a man, and luckily, her first man had been gentle enough so that the didn't have to suffer the pain a virgin can usually suffer the first time.
But during the course of the next few years, as she started to try and make something of herself in show business, she had had to be with many other men, and she had learned that all of them were not gentle.
In fact, the majority of them had always been brutal with her.
She heard a knock on her dressing room door then, and she walked over to open it.
A lovely black-haired woman was standing there. She was at least a head shorter than the man she was with, for he stood right behind her, and yet, Ingrid could look right over the woman's face, into his.
His blazing blue eyes filled her with terror, and the stern look on his face also scared her. The man pushed his wife into the room, and slammed the door.
It was only when he no longer stood in front of the woman, that Ingrid saw the red swastika band on his arm. Then, he pulled a short riding crop out from his belt and smashed it against his wife's back.
She groaned as she felt it, and fell forward.
And, it was not until then, that Ingrid noticed that woman's hands were expertly tied behind her back.
She could see the skill that the man had to have used to tie her up, for her wrists were bound with the leather over and over again. She could even make out the way the strap had been laced between her wrists, then around and over.
"My name is Heinrich, and this is my whore of a wife, Bidi. She saw you on stage and felt lust like she has never felt it, isn't that right, Bidi?"
The woman did not answer, until he reached down and grabbed her long blonde hair. He yanked back hard, pulling her head back, and glared down into her face.
"Is that not right, whore?" he asked her.
"Rolf said that your wife did you under the table," Ingrid said, fast, for she did not like the anger this man was displaying.
He reminded her, in many ways, of her brother in law, and that was a hateful reminder, since she could not stand that man.
"Yah, she was turned on, enough to do me. Or rather, for me to force her to do me. Had she had her way, she would have been watching you longer."
"Is that true?" she asked the woman, and the woman nodded.
Her nod of approval was met by a hard crack on the back with the riding crop, and the woman let out a loud scream once more.
"I would like to see her eat you, because that is what she so desires."
The man moved his hand to her dress and ripped it down in the front, baring her breasts. They were small and firm breasts, with stiff brown nipples. Ingrid could see how fearful the woman was by the fast rise and fall of them, and she moved her fingers down and caressed them gently.
"Not like that, you whore," the man said to her. "She likes to be caressed like this, you stupid whore."
He slapped Ingrid's hand away, and it took all her willpower to keep herself from slapping him right back across the face. It took even more willpower once she saw the way he started to tug at her nipples.
He pinched both of them, one with each hand, and he started to pull so hard, that he was also stretching the woman's breasts. The woman moaned a little bit, but then, she was certainly groaning in pain.
"That is not the way she likes it," Ingrid said. "That is the way you think she likes it, but listen to her."
"She groans like this all the time," the man said to Ingrid.
"Because you are being brutal with her. Try being tender."
He pulled his hand back and slapped her across the face then, harder than Orst had even slapped her before.
"I paid for you, like a whore, and I want no back talk from you. For all purposes, you are a whore, and you will do as I say."
The anger he displayed made her shrink with fear. She knew how brutal many of these Nazis were supposed to be, and deep down, Ingrid was hoping that this horrid group would fall before they ever had a chance to rise up.
However, she had noticed more and more of them in the streets recently, and the larger their force became, the less opposition they seemed to be facing. Soon, she knew, they would be so large that there would not be any opposition at all, and when that day arrived, it would be the end of the world.
So she kept quiet. She had managed to get back into her robe before he had entered, and she was glad that she had.
For he pulled it open hard, and if it had been any kind of dress, buttoned or zippered, he would have ripped it right open.
Instead, her robe just fell open, and he looked at her naked body.
"I don't even know why she wants you so much," Heinrich said. "Your body obviously is made up when you are on stage, is it not?"
"It is not," she said, firmly.
"Well then tell me why it looks so nice up on stage, but here, in the flesh, it looks ragged and saggy. Tell me why."
She wanted to tell him to drop dead, and take all his Nazi friends with him.
Instead, she told him that he had probably been imagining that her body was so sensational, the way that all the men did.
In doing so, she was admitting to him that she did not think her body was so good, and she did hate herself for doing that.
"Well, Bidi, will you eat her now?" he asked his wife.
"Yah," the woman said.
"Sit down, whore. Sit down and spread your legs so that Bidi can move her mouth there. She wants to taste your flesh."
She sat back on her bed and spread her legs wide apart. She wondered how the woman was going to feel when she tasted her, for there was still that load of male come up her cunt, too, from when Orst had fucked her.
Still, she did not care that much. Bidi moved her head right between her legs, and Ingrid could hear the way the woman was sniffing, as if she wanted to take in the pleasant female odor first.
Then, Bidi started to move her mouth to Ingrid's cunt. Heinrich pushed her forward even more, and she almost tripped, because she was still standing, and just bending over, and her arms were bound tightly behind her back.
She started to lick Ingrid's cunt lips, and Ingrid could feel a nice sensation running through her body. This woman, like most women, was starting off slowly, licking gently, and waiting for a sign that the cunt was getting wet and receptive.
Ingrid moaned a little bit more, and then, she heard the crack.
She looked at Bidi's back, where Heinrich had just whipped her hard, and she could see a bloody red mark there, with fresh flowing blood.
"Do not whip her so hard," she moaned to the man. "Can't you see that you are hurting the poor woman? Can't you see that?"
"If you do not shut up, you will be the one I'll whip," he said, and he raised up his riding crop, as if to let her know he was serious.
Of course, she did shut up. The last thing that she wanted to feel was a whip being applied to her flesh, hard. One of the acts that she did at the club had a simulated kind of whipping in it, but when Gunther snorted too much cocaine, as he tended to do on occasion, he sometimes got carried away with himself, and whipped her too hard.
He had never cut into her flesh, and she knew that if he ever did, she would make sure to get even with him, but he had lashed her a few times where it had really hurt, and left a lingering mark for a few days.
As the woman continued to eat her, the man pushed her down on her knees a little bit. He reached for the top of her dress and began to pull it all the way down her body, letting it fall around her knees.
Ingrid moved her fingers to the woman's nipples. She thought that she would massage them and try to turn her on a little, because it seemed like the woman's husband was doing everything to turn her off.
She heard the sound of something unzipping, and she looked right at his crotch.
He had opened his zipper, and as he pulled out his cock, he smiled.
"I see that you have eyes for my cock," he said to Ingrid. "Would you like to suck on it for a while?"
She didn't say anything, which he took to mean yes. He walked right in front of her, and as she got a good look at his cock, she did like it.
She watched as he pulled back the foreskin, and she could see a drop of the come at the head. As soon as she moved her mouth to his cock, he moved his hand behind her head and slammed himself in.
Had Bidi not been doing such a nice job eating her cunt, she would have hated the way Heinrich was thrusting in and out of her mouth.
It was as if all he had in mind was to brutalize her. He moaned each time he thrust in hard and his groin slapped against her face, and his balls hit her hard in the chin.
Ingrid remembered once talking with her sister, and hearing that her sister's husband would treat her this same way.
"I would bite him off in a second," she said. "I would bite right down and keep biting until his cock was no longer connected to his body. That would let him know that he cannot abuse me."
She thought of doing it then, but knew that as soon as she would start, he would start to slap her. He was such a brutal looking man.
When his cock started to throb, she felt him thrusting harder, and tried to keep her throat clear, for she was so sure that he was going to try to come in her throat. She hated the idea of it, but had no choice.
Meanwhile. Bidi was sucking on her love button.
As soon as she had gotten Ingrid's cunt lips wet enough, she had been happy when the woman reached down and spread them wider apart. That way, the love button was fully exposed, and it was easier for her to wrap her lips around it. When she felt the way the walls spasmed a little bit, and the juices began to flow, then she sucked them right out of the woman's cunt.
Ingrid had purposely spread herself wide apart, because she knew that the woman couldn't do it with her fingers, being bound the way that she was.
By holding herself open, she was leaving herself in a position to be exposed to more pleasure than usual, which was what she wanted, in order to make up for the hard way that this man was fucking her face.
She was surprised when, after about five minutes of hard brutal fucking, he pulled himself out of her mouth, without having come.
"Very good. You have gotten me wet enough," he said to her.
"Yah? Is that good?" Ingrid asked, or she didn't think it made any difference.
"It is good for Bidi," he said, and he laughed.
Bidi was still eating her, and Ingrid could feel the way her pleasures just kept flowing. She did keep her eyes on him, though, for she had decided, the second she had seen his swastika, that he was not a man to be trusted.
She watched as he got down on his knees behind his wife. He slapped her on the ass so that she would raise herself up.
"You see, if you did not get your saliva all over my cock, it would be so much harder and so much more painful for her when I do this," he told Ingrid, and he looked right into her eyes as he slammed himself into the poor woman's asshole.
For a second, Ingrid felt Bidi's teeth grinding against her love button, and she could understand why.
Heinrich's cock was not all that long, but it was incredibly thick. In fact, it was one of the thickest ones that the blonde girl had ever seen in her life, and she imagined how much Bidi had been stretched in order to take it in.
He was not making it any easier as he was thrusting, either, for she could see the way he had this determined look on his face as he thrust in and out.
He was also holding his riding crop in his hand, and he started to whip his wife on the buttocks with it, as he kept thrusting in and out. Ingrid was sure that she could see some red on the man's cock then, and she thought that it had to be blood from the man's wife's asshole.
And yet, he didn't seem to care. Bidi was moaning but it was all muffled between Ingrid's legs. Ingrid could hear it, but if he could, he was making no indication.
It took the young blonde a few more seconds to realize something.
Heinrich was looking right between her legs as he fucked his wife's ass. Right between her, Ingrid's legs, as if he was really enjoying the way his wife was eating her out. Then, he ever started to moan.
"Yah, keep making that whore come," he was saying. "Keep making her come. It looks good when you do that to her."
She knew that he was enjoying it for sure, and she started to wonder how many times the two of them had done something like this. She did not know for sure, but she was starting to hate the man even more.
He was slamming himself in and out of her asshole, harder and harder. He seemed to also be enjoying the sounds of his flesh slapping against hers.
At one point, she heard him moaning, and she was so sure that he was going to start to come in his wife, but he slowed down, slammed himself in, and started to grind himself around inside of her, something which Ingrid knew had to be causing the woman to be stretched out even more.
Then, she started to notice something else. The clock.
More than fifteen minutes had already passed by. In fact, it was going on to half an hour, and Rolf hadn't come to tell her that the time was up.
He was a scared shitless man, she thought. He was scared to come and tell this Nazi that his time was up, probably because he was afraid of what the man might do.
But she was not. She started to tell him right away.
"Hurry. Hurry. You are only supposed to have fifteen minutes, and you have already been her for twenty-five."
He leaned over, and he slapped her across the face, hard.
"I will take my time, whore," he said. "No one ever rushes me."
"You are no more special than anyone else. So hurry up. Finish coming in your wife. Finish watching her eat my cunt, for it is obvious to me that you are the one who is enjoying it more than your wife. Is it because you cannot eat a woman?"
She pulled her head back in time to avoid another slap, and was happy, because she could hear the sound that his hand made as it flew through the air, and she knew that if he had struck her, it would have hurt.
She was happy when he resumed his fucking, and she could hear him moaning loud another time. Then, she saw the way he started to thrust faster, and his wife began to moan, just as he said that he was coming inside of her.
Ingrid let out a sigh of relief, for she could see the way the man's temper was subsiding a little bit, along with his flowing juices, and she felt a little bit happier for the man's wife, because it was over for her, too.
He held himself inside of her for a while, then pulled back.
He stood up and started to untie the leather around his wife's wrists.
"You may dress now," he said. "Dress now and wait outside."
The woman pulled her dress up and slid her arms through the shoulder straps. She never said a word to Ingrid. Instead, she seemed to keep her eyes lowered down on the floor the whole time.
Once her dress was adjusted, she stepped outside.
"Yah, what is it that you want now?" Ingrid asked him.
"Just this," he said, and he pulled his hand back so hard, and smashed her across the face. She felt the way her jaw seemed to be twisted, and she fell to the floor and passed out seconds later, which saved her from feeling the way he kicked her twice in the stomach with his black leather boot.
Much later, she could feel herself lying on her bed, and someone was dabbing her head with a wet cloth.
She opened her eyes, and when her vision focused, she could see Rolf.
"Why did you let that man in my room?" she asked him. "You must have known what he wanted to do. There is no way you can convince me otherwise."
"Yah, I did know, but I did not know he would be so brutal. He did ask for you by name. He wanted you."
"And you were too scared to deny him, yah?" Ingrid asked, and he didn't even have to answer. The look on his face was answer enough. "My dear Rolf, that is how this world will end, you know. More and more people will be scared to talk back to the Nazis. The Nazis will step all over them, and soon, they will be a total power."
"Just rest now Ingrid, and do not think of it. Here in the cabaret, we are shielded from all that."
Chapter Three
"Ilsa,, you will fill in for Ingrid for the rest of this evening," Rolf said to her, when he walked into her dressing room.
"Yah? You cannot be serious, Rolf. How will I introduce an act and then get behind the curtain in time before it opens?"
"I do not know, my little sweet," he said to her. "But you will do it."
"What is wrong with Ingrid then? Has she fucked herself out?"
He slapped her. Sometimes, although his feelings for Ilsa were stronger than they were for any other girl, she said things which angered him.
"Some Nazi was with her, and her jaw is swollen now. The man was brutal with her."
"Ach, then I am glad you did not send him to me."
"If you do not get ready to take her place, you will have one from me, my little darling. But, if you are good, and perform well, you and I will be together at the end of the evening. How is that?"
She moved closer to him and kissed him on the lips. As she did, she slid her hand to his crotch and started to rub his cock bulge. Rolf knew that there would be time, if he wanted, for her to give him a blow job.
But he did not want that now. He pushed her away and turned to walk back to his office, one of the only places in all of the Berlin Club where he could be alone.
He even locked the door, and as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he was distressed. During the last few months, it seemed, he had aged a few years, or maybe the lines had just stated to pop up more noticeably on his forehead.
It was because of what was happening all over Germany with the Nazis.
He reached over and started to turn the lock on his safe. As he opened it and saw all the hundreds of thousands of marks piled into neat bundles, he sat back. All this was what made all the shit he had to put up with worthwhile.
And something else, too.
He reached over and pulled out the small packet. It was just a piece of paper, folded over a few times, and as he started to unfold it, he looked at the white powder before him. It took the marks to buy the powder, but it was well worth the price, for at times like this, only cocaine could make him feel good.
People always wondered why Rolf Schmidt had a long fingernail on his left hand pinkie, but only those who had ever snorted with him knew why. It was easy to scoop up the powder with his finger and inhale it.
He filled both nostrils more than once, and it was not until he felt the soothing effects of the drug working on his system, that he started to fold the packet up and slip it back into his safe.
"Goodbye, marks," he said to his money, as he closed the door.
Then, he sat back on his leather chair. He reached for his riding crop and began to pound it on the desk, once, twice, over and over.
The steady cracking sound seemed to steady his nerve.
He thought about Ingrid. She would be sleeping now, and he was happy about the fact that there were small beds in the dressing rooms. It came in good for a number of reasons. First and foremost, in his mind, of course, was for the girls to use it when the men came backstage to see them.
But they also always came in good for times like this, when a girl was so worn out and so beaten, that she needed to sleep.
Of course, it had been hard to get her to sleep at first, for even though she had been unconscious after the Nazi hit her, once he had revived her, she had been furious. She had started to talk about how much she hated the Nazis, and how she wished she could kill every one of them that she saw now.
He had just been happy Heinrich was back in the front, and that there were no other Nazis backstage, anywhere, to overhear what Ingrid was saying.
She had looked so lovely there in his arms, and he had wanted to shut her up, so he'd moved his lips to hers and kissed her.
Ingrid, like most of the other girls who had had a taste of his cock before, succumbed immediately. He had always been told, by almost every girl he was with, that his cock was larger than any other they had seen, so he had grown to believe it was.
He had been with Ingrid a few times, and as she had felt his soft kisses, he knew she was hoping to have him again. He knew it because of the way she had even slid her hand between his legs, to feel if he was hard.
He was. Most of his life was spent with an erection between his legs.
She had started to pull him out af his pants, and she had moved him between her legs. He had whispered in her ear as he'd slid his cock into her cunt and felt the velvety warmth around him.
"Sleep, Ingrid. Rest for a while. I'll tell Ilsa to go on in your place. You need your rest now, darling, so sleep."
She had been moaning as he had been sliding his cock in and out of her.
Ingrid's cunt had been responsive, too. He had felt the way she started to spasm around him, and then, he had heard her breathing at a nice, steady rate. As he had raised his head up just a little bit, and looked in her eyes, he knew that she was sleeping.
Yet, she was still responding. He had started to fuck her even harder, for he had wanted to come, and when he felt the need to have his orgasm, he didn't even slow down. With some women, he would have, just to prolong their pleasure, but since Ingrid was sleeping, there was no reason for that.
He came gently, and pulled himself out of her. He kissed her as he put his cock back into his pants, and then he left her dressing room As he started to close the door, he had taken one last look at her face. It was quite obvious that she would have a swollen jaw the next morning, and chances were good that she would need twice as much make-up to cover it on stage.
But let her sleep through the night, he thought. And damn that Nazi.
He had made sure that the second part of the show was underway before talking to Ilsa in her dressing room, and he was quite sure that they would be able to run smoothly without him, at least for the next half hour or so.
The shows went in half hour segments, with intermissions of about a half an hour to an hour between. The segments were so short, because basically, the first show started at seven in the evening, and they went on until four in the morning. Each segment was different from the other, and on different nights, the orders were changed around.
It had been Rolf's idea to stage a cabaret show like this, turning the small bar he had owned into an incredible money making business. He had just gone along with the times, he remembered, and those times were changing.
Way back, when he had first had the Berlin Bar, he had had a singer, Nana, who would do two shows a night.
She had been a lovely black-haired beauty, who was as kinky offstage as she looked onstage. She had long straight black hair, and always dressed in clinging black dresses, revealing enough cleavage, and always with a slit up the side of one leg which went almost all the way up to her hip.
He had discovered her singing in a smaller bar, and had offered her more money, and a room to stay in.
She had become quite popular, and Rolf had even had a chance to have some of his songs peformed by her, although she had never thought he'd had much talent when it came to writing songs.
He remembered the first night he had ever been with her. She had been working for him for a month, and one night, late, he had heard a noise from her room. He had gone to investigate, and when he opened the door, there she lay, in the middle of her bed, naked, with her legs spread, and her fingers between her legs.
Nana had been masturbating, and she continued, even after he had entered.
He watched her long slender fingers sliding in and out from between her cunt lips, and he had loved the way the lips looked red. He watched the way the juices started to flow down her thighs, too.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked him. "I always did wonder about you, my dear, Rolf. For one month I have lived with you in the same house, and you have never once tried to come into my room. I am glad to see that you are a man. with normal desires."
He knew what she was implying by that, and it outraged him.
He had gone over and slapped her across the face, thinking that he would shut her up. Instead, she went on, implying that perhaps he needed a member of the same sex to keep him turned on, since that kind of insanity seemed to be running rampant in Nazi Germany, and why shouldn't he be like others?
The more she spoke, the more outraged he became, and he was hitting her harder and harder, until, it hit him.
She was loving this. She seemed to be taunting him and leading him on in order that he continue to beat her.
At one point, she seemed to be reaching for something. He saw her hand grasp it, and then she had dropped it.
Rolf had known that she hadn't just dropped it accidentally though, as soon as he saw that it was a leather whip. Her grasp had been too good, and if he had been hurting her enough where she wanted to fight back, she could have held onto it and whipped him with it. No, that had not been her purpose.
She had reached for it to let him know that it was there in the room.
So he reached for it, and he started to whip her hard.
Rolf, always the businessman, took into consideration the kinds of clothing that Nana would wear when she performed. He made sure to whip her breasts and belly and her inner thighs, but no area that would be seen by the public.
She had been writhing as he had whipped her hard, and there was never any doubt in his mind, that first time, or the hundreds of times to follow, that she loved it. The wetness near her cunt at all times always confirmed it in his mind, for she would be coming without even touching himself when he whipped her.
That first night, he had whipped her until she seemed to be exhausted, and then he had rolled her over onto her stomach.
He pulled her hands behind her back and tied them with the whip, then rolled her back, so that he could see her naked cunt.
Rolf had spread her legs as he'd moved his hand to his zipper.
"Now, you'll see that this is a real man's cock, to be used only with women. You'll see how much the hot cunt of a woman can turn me on."
He had rammed himself into her with one hard thrust, and she had let out the most pleasant moan. It was a moan that he could still hear in his mind as he thought about her, for he would hear it so many more times in his life.
"Harder," she had started to say to him.
Rolf would never forget the brutal way in which he fucked her then. He even felt the way his own groin seemed to be burning each time he drove his cock in and out of her, because he was slapping her thighs so hard with his groin. He felt the way her nipples throbbed when he fingered them.
Her cunt was constantly wet, and seemed to be spasming more times than not, sometimes so tight, that he could not thrust for too long a while, or else he would come too soon.
But that first time with her, she had been so aroused, and he had been, too, that within a few more minutes, he had been coming inside of her. He had started to thrust even harder while he came.
Nana had been surprised to feel his cock stay hard even after he had come, and he pulled her long black hair and slapped her face.
"Sometimes, I never go down," he had laughed, and she had smiled.
Instead of taking it as a threat, the way he had intended it to be, she loved the idea of it, and wanted him even more.
He had fucked her ass that first night, because he wanted her to see how he could hurt her if she didn't obey him, and yet, she had loved it as he drove himself in and out of her tight, first-time fucked asshole.
When he had slid his fingers into her cunt to see if she was getting turned on by the way he was brutally fucking her, he still felt her spasming.
He had come hard in her asshole, and he had fucked her again one more time that night in the cunt, slapping her around for hours.
He was happy the next morning when he saw the way she made herself up. One never would have been able to tell that she had been beaten to a pulp the night before.
And, from that first night on, she had moved into his bedroom.
Each night, after closing up the club, they would start on their way up the stairs to the small apartment that he had over it. She was so good at doing her role. She was always able to find something to bitch about, even if it just had to do with the fact that he had put some drunk in the front, who kept making all these remarks as she sang, and she wished that he would have more sense.
Or, she still liked to harp on the idea that perhaps he liked both men and women, which could not be further from the truth.
"I saw the way you looked at that blonde boy tonight," she would say, when in reality, he would know that it was Nana who had noticed a blond boy in the audience.
But it was all part of her role as instigator, so that she could start a fight and work up his anger. In the end, of course, it would lead to her beating.
Some nights he would just tie her up and fuck her, when he was not in the mood to beat her. One night, he had her hanging over his bed, from leather straps that he'd hung from the ceiling.
As he was standing up on the bed and sliding his cock in and out of her, he had loved the way her body moved. There were moments when he just had to hold her hips and slide her back and forth over his cock, never even having to move himself.
One night, she suggested that they bring in another girl, and he had been more than willing. While he was fucking Nana, he could eat the other girl, and since he was the kind of man who liked to do both, it kept him aroused for many hours.
Then, on another night, she suggested that they bring in another man.
He had sensed that she wanted to test what she had always thought, and he had showed her that he was only interested in her. Although the man seemed like he might have been interested in doing whatever happened, Rolf had made it clear that they were both to satisfy the woman, and not each other.
He did admit to himself, every so often, that he could get turned on watching a man fucking a woman, even watching the way the man's cock was sliding in and out of her cunt, but then again, what man couldn't?
He found that it aroused him because he liked to imagine that it was his own cock moving in and out of the woman's cunt.
He and the other man whom they'd taken upstairs never touched each other, and when Rolf tied her up over the bed, it was easy for him to fuck Nana's mouth while the man was fucking her cunt at the same time. By pulling on her nipples as hard as he could, Rolf had turned her on even more.
He would never forget the first time his sister had mentioned it to him.
"You know that Nana is a Jew, do you not, Rolf?" she had asked.
"Yah, I did know that. But what difference does it make?"
"I do not think that it is good for business for you to have a Jew employed. The times are not right for it. We must face facts."
And although nothing major had happened, he had heard about how a few houses had been burned, a few windows broken with rocks, a few young Jewish boys falling victim to gangs of German boys, and so on.
But he did not think it mattered much.
He had decided, however, to hire another singer, just so Nana would not have to work every night, and so, if the public demanded, there would be a few shows a night.
Then, the Brand Club had opened across the streets, and his business had suddenly died down. At the time, the Berlin Club was still the Berlin Bar.
Rolf had gone across the street to see what his competitor had that was pulling in all of his customers.
He saw that there were burlesque kinds of shows. There were a few stupid skits, and they tried to bring in nudity as much as possible. Almost every girl in the show had .to bare her tits at some point or other, and whether the body was good or not, the men in the audience seemed to cheer each time a new set of tits was exposed.
Rolf had talked to Nana about singing without a top on, but she had refused, and the other girl had refused as well.
That was when he decided that he would put on a few shows, also, and he had run and ad in the Berlin Gazette.
Soon, he had been getting more business again. He had changed the name of his club, and he had set up a small stage, which, over the years, was to be built up even more and more, until it was quite sizeable.
He wrote a few skits himself, and the customers seemed to like them.
Nana did not like to sing between strippers, but she really did have no choice. Rolf also started to discover something. The worst parts of the show, at least from the reaction of the audience, were when Nana sang.
It was then that he had decided it was time to fire her, but he was so much in love with her sexually, that he still wanted her around. Instead of firing her, he proposed to her, and suggested that when they marry, she stop working.
She did not like that idea, said she would talk to him about it, and that night, he beat it into her, literally.
As he had her bound to the bedposts of their bed, and was thrusting his cock in and out of her with a super hard force, he was slapping her face and telling her that she would no longer be singing in the club.
She had been moaning louder than ever, and finally, as she had felt the way he started to come in her, she had agreed.
But three days before they were to be married, she came to him and told him that she could not be his wife.
"Why?" Rolf Schmidt had asked. The invitations had been mailed. The arrangements had all been made. He feared that if she did not marry him, too, he would lose her.
Her father, a rather prominent doctor, had his office robbed a few times. He had saved up enough money to take his family out of Germany, and although she had never been close to them, they had offered to take her.
She had every intention of leaving with them.
"I still do no understand why," he told her. "I love you."
"It is for your sake as well as mine. There is no one trying to stop this Nazi party from rising. They will become more and more powerful. Take my word for it, Rolf. It would not be good for you to marry me. You have this club, this business, and it is successful. Marry a Jewess, and you lose it all."
He had beat her and fucked her, harder than he had in the longest time, thinking that would be the way to make her change her mind. But no matter what he did, she was convinced that she must go.
And she had. After he untied her that time and she left his house, she never came back, and that was when he first started to hate the Nazis.
Of course, he thought, as he decided to snort some more cocaine, his hatred for them did not go too far. After all, many of them were already making good money, and each night, he would have one or two in the club.
A few higher ranking Nazis sometimes came in and brought large parties with them, so their bills for the night were substantial, and they always had cash to pay them.
He snorted some more coke, and thought about one incident, though. It had made him decide that he had to let the Nazis in anyway, no matter what.
There had been a rowdy officer as hit club one night, and the man had left, eventually. The next night, he had returned.
He had started out sober, but as the evening wore on, he seemed to be getting more drunk than he had been the night before. Eventually, Rolf had had to go over and ask the man to leave.
"And please, do not come back here," he had said to the officer, as the man barely managed to stumble away from the bar.
The next night, the blond officer had returned again, this time, with a few more Nazi soldiers to accompany him.
"I am sorry, but I cannot let you in," Rolf said.
"Why is that?" the Nazi asked him. "Why will you let others in, but not us?"
"They are allowed in," Rolf told him, pointing to the others. "But for the last two nights, you have had to be dragged out of here. You have gotten too drunk and you have disrupted the show. I do not want it to happen again."
The man had laughed, and then, he had beckoned with his finger. Rolf had moved closer, thinking that the man was going to whisper something in his ear.
The officer wrapped his arm around Rolfs neck, and then, punched him hard in the stomach with his fist, so that the man had doubled over in pain.
"You see, Herr Schmidt, I do remember last night. I do remember your warning for me not to come back here. That is why I purposely came back with friends. It is all right, if you do not want me to enter, but if that is the case, my friends and I will rip your place apart, in a matter of seconds. However, if I am allowed to enter, we will be the most cordial customers you can find."
So what could he have done? He knew that if he refused again, they would beat his face in before they even started to tear the club apart.
As the officer had left that night, he had told Rolf that from now on, the man had to let any Nazis in, for if he did not, all of them would hear about it and they would blow up his place one afternoon when he wasn't even there.
He did not want to tell them that he lived upstairs, for he was sure that would have given the officer even more reason for wanting to blow up the place.
So, from that day on, all Nazis were allowed in.
And still, he hated them, and still, he would never forget that he had lost his Nana because of them.
And still, business was just all right.
With the Brand Club across the street, showing the same kinds of acts that he would have at his club, customers would go there sometimes, and come to his place at other times. He knew the owner of the Brand Club, and there was no way that he could keep the man out of his club, and prevent him from stealing some of the acts, just as there was no way the owner of the Brand Club could keep him out.
Then, the turning point had occurred one night a few months back, and it was one of the few things that he had to thank the Nazis for.
A handsome blond soldier named Greg had come backstage during one of the breaks.
At the time, a girl named Lila had been working for him. She had been a redhaired. beauty with long slinky legs. She had danced a number wearing practically nothing, and most men would feel quite aroused watching her slink across the stage.
Greg had asked Rolf how he could meet Lila, and Rolf had decided that even though the man was a Nazi, he was still somewhat nice. So he had taken Greg to Lila's dressing room, and he had stayed there for a while, too.
He did not really just want to meet Lila. He just wanted to fuck her.
Rolf knew men well enough to be able to tell that, and for a few seconds, he decided to see what he could do. He asked Lila if she could come outside and talk with him, and he asked her if she would be willing to make it with the man.
"I could use the extra money," she had said to him, smiling.
"I thought you would say that, my sweet Lila. I could see that you and I got along so well for a reason. One moment."
And then, he stepped into the dressing room again. He closed the door so that he could talk privately with the soldier. He asked him if he would like to make love to Lila, and of course, the man was quite willing.
The price was set, and Rolf took the money. He told Lila to come to his office when she was finished.
But he had not left. He didn't really trust the Nazi that much, so he had stood outside of the door, and he had looked through the keyhole.
He saw the way the man pulled his cock out of his pants and pushed Lila down on her knees, in the most dominating way. He had pressed his cock into her mouth, and he had started to fuck her face.
Rolf had been happy at the way Lila worked. She had slid her hand down to her cunt and she had started to massage herself. He loved the way she kept herself aroused that way, so that as the Nazi kept sliding himself in and out of her mouth, hard, she was able to bear with him.
At one other point, the man had pulled his cock out of her mouth and had started to slap her across the face with it. Then, he had started to come all over her face, but he had not lost his erection.
He had pushed her onto her bed, and he had slid his cock right between her legs.
Rolf had watched it all. He had seen the thick red bush that lovely Lila had between her legs, and he had seen her large breasts heaving up and down as the man kept thrusting it in and out of her with a hard slapping force.
It had not taken that long for the man to come, either.
Once he had come, he had just adjusted himself, and then he had left. By that time, Rolf was in his office.
He had even been looking at the watch on his wrist, counting the seconds, and sure enough, within two minutes after the man had left, there was Lila, standing in his office with her hand held right out.
"And where is my money?" she asked him, and he handed her ten marks.
"That is all you get. I get ten, and you get ten."
"Fair enough. It is ten marks more than I had yesterday, and perhaps there will be others like him. I could use the extra money."
He had started to think about what she said then, and he had smiled.
Lila was one of the few girls who ever got to share cocaine with him, because he knew that he had a whole business to work out with her. He had asked her, that night, to shut his office door, and then, they had snorted.
When she was sufficiently high, he started to ask her if she would be willing to do things like this more often.
"Yah, of course. I thought I made that clear to you already, Rolf. I told you that I wanted more money. This is as easy a way as anything else."
"Good. Then it is set. Tomorrow night, you will start."
"How will you let them know?"
"It is easy for me to tell one person in the club, and then, the rumor will be spread. Those brave enough to come backstage and check to see if the rumor is true, will discover that for a price, you are theirs. For fifteen minutes each."
"Brilliant. That way, I can take on more than one."
"But each one will come once, only, not twice, the way you let this man come."
She had started to smile with a sly look on her face. She didn't even have to say anything, but she knew that he had been watching.
And over the weeks, his club had started to attract more and more people. Each time he would hire new girls, he had to make sure that they were willing to take on a few customers between breaks.
Most of them were. After all, being in his club on stage was only a few steps above being a whore, in the sense that the girls all paraded around with practically nothing on, to try and make some money.
It was so much easier to do this, and make even more money.
"You know," Lila said to him one night, "I understand now why these men love to come backstage to fuck us."
"Yah?" he had asked her. "Then explain it to me, after you get through pushing all of that cocaine into your nose."
"There is an aura to someone on stage. An aura to the actress, let me say. The men see you on stage, and they think that you are someone special. The make-up, the lights, they all help, too."
"In some cases, they look better on stage. Not you, my dear."
"You do not have to tell me, Rolf. I know that I am beautiful, and I will make it work for me for as long as possible. But it is that aura which attracts the men in the first place, and makes them want to come back for more."
"Or come back for a starter. You do taunt them on stage as you flaunt yourself around. You do leave them wanting more." "It's a business," she told him. And then, one night, she had asked him to make love to her. He had only done so once, up until then, but he had loved the way her body looked.
So, at first, he had started to eat her, and when he had felt the way she was coming in his mouth, he had started to suck out her juices.
Soon, he had entered her, and he was thrusting in and out of her hard. She seemed to love it more the harder he thrust, and he was happy about that.
Soon, she had become his steady girl, the only one he would be with.
"I feel that I deserve it," she told him. "I was the first to start this, and now, you have a successful club."
And it was true. As soon as word had gotten around as to what a customer could buy backstage, the place had started to fill up almost every night. Somehow, too, Rolf had managed to keep this a secret from the owner of the Brand Club, who just could not understand how, almost overnight, he had no customers.
And then, one day, a Nazi soldier had beat Lila's face in.
He had wanted to fuck her in the ass, and she had not wanted it. She had started to scream and he had slapped her once, so hard, that she bit her own tongue, and it was hard for her to try and scream then.
She bit her lower lip as she struggled for the door, but he managed to get himself into her, fucking her brutally.
He had been outside of the dressing room, trying to get in, but the soldier had locked the door, and was pushing the weight of her body against it, just in case anyone could get the key and open the lock.
By the time Rolf had been able to get in, the soldier had come in her asshole and was wiping her shit off on her robe.
He pushed his pock back into his pants, got up, and left.
Rolf helped, her through her recovery, and she unable to do the show for a few weeks, because her face had been badly bruised.
Then, when she recovered, she had a serious talk with him.
"That is all, Rolf. I am finished. My career is over."
"What? Why are you saying this? I don't think that your talent has disappeared."
"My talent for deceiving has. I should have been able to keep that man from getting me in the ass. He almost killed me. I have saved a lot of money from all of the men I have been with."
"Then stop working for a while."
"For good. At least here. At least in Germany. I could not risk being with other customers. They could turn out to be like him."
"They will not all be like that one," he said to her.
"Who are you trying to fool? One Nazi pig is the same as another. And there is no denying that in the last few months, they have grown in number. They will continue to grow. All I wish to do is get out of Germany before their cancer spreads."
And no matter how much he had tried to talk her out of it, she had made up her mind, and a few days later, she left him at the train station.
He had heard from her. She was now living in America, where they seemed to have no idea of what was happening where he was.
Rolf heard a knock on his door then, and he walked over and opened it. Ilsa was standinng there, smiling.
"The second part of the show has ended. There will be men lining up at the stage door. I think you should come and get ready to greet them."
"Yah, I will be there," he said to her. "Give me a minute."
"Are you all right, Rolf? You look worn. Your eyes look red."
"I am all right. Please, Ilsa, leave me. Leave me. I will be there."
He closed the office door, took a deep breath, then opened it again and stepped out into the world of backstage show business.
He passed Ingrid's dressing room and looked inside. She was still sleeping, and he hoped she would sleep the night. He hoped, too, that she, unlike Lila, would want to continue working, even after her first beating.
But what Lila had told him, and what Ingrid had said, also, was true. There didn't seem to be any stop to the rise of the Nazi Party, and as he opened the door and looked out at all the men lined up, his thoughts were confirmed.
About half of the men on line wore the Nazi arm band.
Chapter Four
Ilsa Baron walked away from Rolf, and she seemed upset.
Sometimes, she felt as if he was the only man she would ever love. At all times, however, she sensed that his feelings for her were not mutual. When he wanted her to do things for him, he would never tell her that he loved her. Instead, he would tell her that he would fuck her later.
She was hoping for it later that night. After all, filling in for Ingrid was hard work, since she had many things to do on stage herself.
She could remember that time when she had tried to convince Rolf to hire understudies, in case anything happened to any of the girls.
"When it is their time of month, for instance," she had said to him. "Some of them cannot perform when it is their time of month."
"They will have to," he said. "Maybe they will not be able to bare their bloody pussies, but they can still perform on stage."
He had been fucking her at that time. The only time she could ever criticize him without him getting angry and slapping her across the face was when she was letting him fuck her, and sometimes, even that didn't work.
She walked behind him then and looked out into the alley, where the men were lining up. He heard her gasp and turned to her.
"Shut up, Ilsa. I know what you're thinking. Just keep quiet."
"I cannot see anyone now," she said to him. "I must rest. Filling in for Ingrid and doing my own job as well wears me out more than doing just one."
"All right. I understand," he said to her. "You can go and rest."
Did he really understand? Ilsa could not help but think about, as she walked toward her small dressing room. It was true, she was tired, and needed to lie down, even if the rest was only for half an hour.
But when she had taken a look outside and had seen all those Nazi soldiers lined up, she had known she didn't want to service any men. Perhaps, if Rolf had filtered through them for her, and picked out a man who did not wear a Nazi swastika, she would allow him into her room and service him.
Ilsa hated the Nazis, however, and after seeing what that bastard had done to Ingrid, for she had stepped in and taken a look as Ingrid slept, she did not want to run the risk of the same thing happening to her.
She closed her dressing room door, and locked it, just in case one of those stupid bastards should wander into the wrong room. She walked toward the small make-up table, sat down, and opened the bottom drawer.
Ilsa opened the bottle of schnapps as fast as she could. She took a long drink, then another, closed the bottle, and moved it back to its hiding place. Then, she opened the top make-up drawer and reached for her breath spray.
If Rolf ever knew that she was drinking during intermissions, he might fire her, she knew. That was one of the most strict rules. He had nothing against a person snorting cocaine, for that, he always claimed, did not alter the senses as much as alcohol did. A person could function even better on cocaine, Rolf had told her, many times, whereas most people do not even know what they do when they are drunk.
But she was not drunk now. She would not drink to get drunk.
The lovely blonde just needed something to steady her nerves, which had been shattered quite a bit by the number of Nazi swastikas on the arms of the waiting men.
She hadn't noticed so many in the audience, as she had been up there on the stage, introducing the acts. It was starting to lead her to believe, in fact, that many of the men waiting outside had just decided to line up and come to see the girls, since more and more of them were hearing about it.
They probably decided to come and fuck a girl, like a whore, and not really use this backstage service as an extra benefit that came to all people inside of the club.
It disturbed her. It was almost as if they were just whores to these men, and not performers who were doing their job on stage, and just doing a little bit extra during the intermissions.
She had to have another drink. The thought of it left her trembling.
She knew why, too, although, it was something she could never let anyone know. It was just too horrible to talk about.
It had happened, though, years back, when she had been a child. There had been even fewer Nazis around then, and no one wore the swastika at all. But the Nazi beliefs had been instilled in many people.
Her father, a diplomat in the German government, had not been a Nazi.
In fact, he had spoken out against the Nazis. At the time, young Ilsa had only been ten, and being so young, her concern for politics was minimal. She really had no idea about what her father did for a living. All she knew was that she lived in a lovely large home, and had servants, and maids, and butlers, to wait on her hand and foot.
She had a lovely black-haired mother, also.
The night it had happened, Ilsa could remember sensing tension in the house.
At dinner, her parents had been whispering to each other, almost as if they didn't want her to hear. That was not at all normal.
They had even sent her upstairs early in the evening.
She had been in her room reading when she had heard the door slam open. Then, there had been the sound of her mother's screaming, and the curious child had run out of her room and down the stairs.
She had hidden herself behind the curtains that were up against one wall near the marble staircase, so she could look into the living room.
Her mother was being held by a man in a soldier's uniform, and another man who stood in front of her was slapping her across the face. She stuck her head out a little bit more and saw the way two more soldiers stood over her father, who was on his knees, with blood dripping from his lips.
All of the servants were over to one side of the room, too, huddled in a corner, being watched by a fifth soldier holding a rifle.
"Well, Herr Barr," the man said to her father.
Ilsa had since changed her name to Baron, so that they would never be able to find her, if they were looking for her.
"Well, Herr Barr," the man repeated, "are you willing to endorse the Nazi party, or will you fight against us?"
"I stand against everything that they stand for, Herr Schlimmer, so how could you expect me to endorse them?"
The soldier pulled his hand back and slapped her father hard across the face.
Her mother screamed, as did her father, but it was her father whose blood was dripping even more. Ilsa wanted to cry, but knew not to, biting her lower lip to hold back the tears. She was smart enough to know that they would pull her into the room if they spotted her.
"There are ways to convince a man of things he may be against," the soldier said.
"You will never be able to make me change my mind."
The soldier then turned to the two men holding her mother.
"Prepare the woman. We will see how much love he has for her."
Her mother struggled and screamed as the two men began to strip her of all of her clothing, fast. They ripped at what she was wearing, so that tattered pieces of her dress and underwear soon lay on the floor.
Her mother tried in vain to cover her nakedness, but the one man still kept holding her hands, or so it seemed. It was not until a few seconds later, when the man moved away, that Ilsa saw the way her wrists had been bound.
In her fierce struggle to cover her bared, brown nipples and black pubic patch, she had caused the leather to rip into her skin, and blood trickled down over the leather and her hands. She seemed totally unaware of what she had done to herself.
"If a man loves his wife, he will sometimes do things to save her."
"Do not," she managed to whisper. "Kurt, you must stick to what you believe in. Do not change on my behalf. I agree with you."
"Keep her quiet," the head soldier, Herr Schlimmer, had said as he turned to one of the men still holding her.
That was when young Ilsa noticed the thick bulge in the man's pants.
He started to open his pants, and as he reached inside and pulled out his hard piece of flesh, her mother had gasped.
Ilsa had gasped, too, although, her mother's gasp was the one that the men heard.
Ilsa had seen her father naked, once, and his cock had been limp. It was nothing in comparison to the size and shape of this man's. His cock must have been at least a foot long, she had thought then, but later in life, when she had encountered many of them herself, she had known better.
It was still bigger than the average cock on your typical man.
The soldier had turned right to her mother, and he had thrust his cock right between her lips, with one hard thrust.
As Ilsa had seen the thing disappear in her mother's mouth, so that the man's pants were pressed up against the woman's face, she had heard her mother gagging. She couldn't understand how the woman could hold that entire long thing in her mouth.
The soldier then started to thrust in and out of the woman's mouth, as hard as he possibly could. She choked each time he thrust all the way in.
In the meanwhile, her father had tried to get up. He seemed to be going crazy and acting frenetically as he tried to push the thrusting soldier away, but Herr Schlimmer hit him on the back of the neck with his gun butt.
It was not a hard enough blow to knock the man out, since the soldiers did want him to see what was happening, but it did knock him to the floor, and then, Herr Schlimmer cuffed the man, and lifted his head up by pulling on his hair.
"Watch your wife, and see how she does it. She may never have the chance to do it to you again, Herr Barr. Keep that in mind."
Ilsa did not know how her father could have seen anything, for there were many tears in his eyes, and many more rolling down his cheeks.
Meanwhile, the other soldier who was still holding her mother, who had forced her mother, in fact, to bend over so she could take in the cock, was starting to run his hands up and down her body.
He was plucking at her nipples hard, and Ilsa could see the way he was twisting them, and sometimes pulling so fiercely, that it seemed like he was going to pull them right off. She could see her mother's cone-shaped breasts being stretched, and from the way the black-haired woman continued to squirm, it was obvious to the girl that she was trying to pull away.
But she could not, and soon, the soldier started to moan.
He pulled his hard, golden looking shaft right out of her mouth, just in time to start rubbing his hand up and down the shaft.
Ilsa saw a man coming for the first time then, and she had thought it was hideous, just because of the way he did it, and because of the way her mother reacted.
He was shooting the cream all over the woman's face, slapping her with the hard cock at the same time. By the time he had finished rubbing and shooting and slapping, there seemed to be white cream all over her face.
She was in tears by that time, and she seemed to be trying to shake her head and get the come to drip off. But the other man had been holding her head by that time, pulling her black hair hard, so that if she continued to move, she would just bring pain upon her own self. She did stop struggling after a time.
There was a moment's silence after the man had finished coming.
"Well, Herr Barr, have I presented a convincing enough argument to let you know that we Nazis mean business, or not?"
"You have prevented a convincing enough argument to let me know that you are all pigs, and that everything that I believe in remains the same. Any man who would do this to another man's wife is a pig."
"Ach, obviously you have always been faithful to your wife. But there is much indiscretion among all members of the German party."
He looked at the other soldier now, who was standing behind Ilsa's mother. He nodded his head, as if to let the man know he could do what he wanted.
The man had been rubbing himself against her mother's naked buttocks from behind. As he pulled away for a second, Ilsa was able to see that there was an even greater bulge in his pants.
It was so enormous, that she was not at all suprised at how large the man's cock was when he finally pulled it out of his pants. It had to be at least twice as thick as the cock on the first man, although it was not much longer. Still, the cock on the first man had been extraordinary in length.
The man started to spit into his hand, and then, he rubbed the spittle all over his thick shaft. As soon as he had done it enough, so that the shaft looked as if it was gleaming, he rammed his cock right into her mother's cunt from behind. She hadn't even been able to see what he was doing, and she hadn't been able to prepare herself, for the soldier who had fucked her face had been holding her head.
Therefore, the cock entry seemed to come as a complete suprise to her, and from her scream, it was most obviously a painful one at that.
The man started to thrust in and out of her mother as hard as he possibly could, and Ilsa remembered wanting to kill him.
"Please Kurt," her mother had been moaning, "do not change your mind. They are all so hateful. I do not care about the pain I feel."
And she had screamed right after saying that.
The main soldier, Herr Schlimmer, had pointed to the other soldier who had been helping him watch her father. He told that soldier he could use her, and that man walked in front of her.
He pulled himself out of his pants. His cock was much smaller than the cocks on the other two men, and in years to come, Ilsa would always remember it as being an average sized cock, as opposed to the two enormous cocks on the other men.
He had moved right in front of her face, and he had started to slap her across the face, hard. Soon, Ilsa could see blood dripping from her mother's nose, and it surprised her that this smaller organ could be just as menacing, if not more, than the larger organs on the other men.
"Well, Herr Barr, are we getting to you?" Herr Schlimmer asked. "You know that you are one of the few who still stand in our way. You are one of the few who still has the balls to talk out against us."
Her father just shook his head that time, as if he believed it was not even worth it to waste any energy on these men.
Then, the soldier in front of her mother moved his cock into her mouth. He held her by her ears, and he was slamming himself in and out of her mouth almost the same way that thee other man was moving in and out of her cunt.
But even that did not remain the same. That soldier soon pulled himself back, and although Ilsa didn't really understand what was happening at the time, she did see the man enter her mother again.
Her mother screamed around the other man's cock, and that man pulled out of her mouth and preceded to administer a series of hard slaps.
"That bitch bit into me," he was saying, and Ilsa did see that the man's cock was no longer hard and rigid. It hung limp between his legs, and seemed to be smaller than it had been before.
The other man, meanwhile, was thrusting faster and faster, and Ilsa soon saw a redness all over his shaft. She knew it was blood.
The man had entered her mother's asshole, after getting his cock all wet from her cunt juices, and he was brutally fucking her then.
Her knees seemed to weaken, and the man moved his hand under her belly. He started to rub her a bit between the legs, hard, for she seemed to be gagging more than she had been with the large cock in her mouth.
Soon, she had vomited on the floor, but the soldier kept fucking her.
As he pulled out of her asshole, she could see a mixture of brown and red on the man's cock. He started to rub himself hard, and the white cream began to spurt out all over her mother's behind.
Then, after he had finished coming, he moved in front of her and slammed himself into her mouth. He started to scream.
"Suck off your own shit and blood, you bitch," he was saying, and all of the soldiers started to laugh when he did that.
By that time, Herr Schlimmer had pulled his own cock out of his pants, and he was jerking on it furiously. She was a little bit happy to see that his cock was smaller than all of the others she had seen.
In fact, because he was such a tall, stocky man, his cock seemed like it was really tiny on a body with his frame.
Years later, when Ilsa was to see how much cock size seemed to mean to certain men, she would think about Herr Schlimmer, wherever the hell he might be, and pray that he was quite upset about the size of his cock, and that it caused him many problems. It was one way of thinking the man was being paid back for what he had done.
He had started to come, the white cream shooting out all over the floor, and some of it even landing on her father's hair.
All of them had laughed about that, too, and one of them had said something to Herr Schlimmer about using her father's mouth to come in. He had thought that would be a fitting punishment for that bastard, but he had already come, and didn't do it.
Her mother had been thrown to the floor after she had finished cleaning off the soldier's cock in her mouth, and she lay there in a huddled heap.
"Well, now, Herr Barr, we come to the final test. A man's love for his wife."
The soldier who had just fucked her cunt, ass, then her mouth, had pulled his pistol out of his shoulder holster. He was pointing it down at her mother, whose head was still near the floor. She had not looked up and could not see what they were doing.
"Does a man love his wife enough to change his politics?" Herr Schlimmer asked.
"I cannot. Katrina, forgive me, but I cannot," he said.
"I forgive you, Kurt," she said to him. "I want you to know that."
She looked up at him, and just as she did, she saw the soldier pointing the pistol at her head. She opened her mouth to scream at the same moment that he pulled the trigger.
Ilsa would never forget the last scream from her mother. Nor would she forget the way her mother's whole head just seemed to explode, for there was blood everywhere and her frame slumped down to the floor.
The blood was soon forming a pool around her naked flesh.
Then, the soldier pointed the gun at her father, who looked at it proudly.
"I would rather die than live in a world that you think you might run. I hope enough people realize that they must fight against your decadent, depraved ways. If the Nazis rule the earth, it is the end of mankind."
"A fitting speech," Herr Schlimmer said. "It is too bad that you will not leave the world with applause following it."
Then, the soldier pulled the trigger. Her father had been shot in the chest first, on the left side of his body. He was still alive as Herr Schlimmer stood over him. The next bullet was shot into his one leg, then the other leg.
It seemed to take them forever,, as he squirmed on the floor in pain. They purposely wanted him to die this slow death, and Ilsa thought that was one of the most horrid things they could be doing. They were pigs for doing it.
A fourth bullet was fired into his arm, and a fifth into the other arm. Finally, as he was gasping what might have been his last pained breath anyway, the soldier shot a last bullet into his head.
He was dead, and lay there in an even larger pool of blood than the one which was still surrounding her mother. He had more gunshot wounds in his body.
Herr Schlimmer turned to the servants then. He started to tell them that they were never to talk of this. If they did, they would be tracked down and shot. Instead, they were all to be placed in the homes of upcoming Nazi officials.
"Where is the little girl?" he asked. "I know that they have a little girl."
"She had been sent to her aunt's house months back," Lily, one of the upstairs maids said, and all the others nodded.
Obviously, Ilsa thought, her parents had asked the servants to lie, and they were doing so, in order to protect her.
"Go through the house and see what you will find," Herr Schlimmer said. "You servants can spend the night here, but tomorrow, you will all be placed."
The servants were guarded as the soldiers ran up and down the stairs, taking expensive vases and paintings. They went into the den and she could hear the way they were trying to force the safe open. She knew because one of them came out and told Herr Schlimmer that he was having trouble, but the man said they would deal with it the next day, even if they had to blow open the thing.
Ilsa had remained hidden behind the curtains for hours, so it seemed, and each time she heard footsteps near her, she would inhale and hold her breath, and pray that the curtains she was shielded behind were not moving.
Eventually, the Nazis left, and when she walked into the living room and looked at the two bodies, se broke down.
She let out a small scream as she felt a hand on her shoulders.
"Good, I am glad that you had the sense to hide yourself," Lily was saying to her. "It would have meant death for all of us, if they knew we had lied to them. Now, quickly, you must pack and you must flee."
Chapter Five
The soldiers had taken a note of all the servants in the house, so none of them could leave with her, for they surely would have been tracked down.
And, Ilsa had been fortunate that the soldiers had not blown the safe open that night, and preferred to wait until the next day, because she knew the combination and was able to take out all of the money.
She took a few hundred marks, and gave the rest to the servants, telling them to divide it up amongst themselves.
Then, she took off for her aunt's house in Stutgart.
She had to wait all night for the train, and did not feel safe for a moment until she was traveling on it.
Even then, she sat near the window, huddled under a blanket, which she kept pulled up to her nose. It was not so much to keep her warm, as it was to keep her hidden, for she feared everyone whom she saw.
She could not sleep during the ride either, because each time she would close her eyes, she would have horrid visions of her mother being forced to take in the Nazi soldiers, and even more horrid visions of the blood and the head blowing up.
Once, she did try to sleep, and was awaken by a young woman sitting next to her, who told her she had been screaming out in her sleep. After that, Ilsa did as much as she could to keep herself up, constantly pinching herself.
Her aunt was her mother's sister, Ava Baron, and it was her last name that Ilsa took on a few years later.
The woman, who was married, but childless, was quite happy to see the girl.
Her husband didn't seem to be as happy. He was a younger man, and Ilsa was never really sure of why her aunt had married him, except, perhaps, because she wanted a younger man around, and had known, at an early age in life, that she would never be able to have children.
Sometimes, Ilsa would notice, her aunt seemed to mother the younger man she had married, but if that was what the woman wanted, that was all right.
Ava had been quite upset about what had happened to her sister, but once, she had said something to Ilsa which bothered the girl.
"I always told her not to marry a man who was involved in politics. Politics is what will ruin the world in the end, my child. You take my word for it."
At night, Ilsa would hear her aunt moaning in her bedroom, and she was sure that the younger man was fucking her.
Then, one night, a neighbor died. Ava went over to take care of the new widower and his children, making them dinner, and sitting with them for a few hours. Ilsa was left all alone with her uncle.
His name was Hans, and he was a handsome young man, who seemed to be quite aware of just how attractive he was, something which Ilsa had never liked about him.
She had been living with her aunt for five years at the time, and was the ripe, tender age of fifteen.
After Ava had been gone for a few hours, Hans had come into her room. He had sat down on a chair near her bed, where she lay reading.
"You do not care for me very much, do you, Ilsa?" he had asked.
"I do not really think about you one way or another," she told him.
"That is the same as saying you do not care about me. If you did, you would think about me more often."
"I think about you as my aunt's husband, not even as my uncle. You are the man who keeps her happy, and if you can continue to do that, there is nothing wrong."
"I can keep you happy, too," he said, and as he spoke, he had slid his hand to her leg. He had started to rub her leg a little bit.
Then, he stood up and moved closer to the bed, sitting to one side of her.
"You were only a straggly little thing when you came to live here, but since then, you have blossomed into an incredible kind of beauty. I cannot remember when last I saw a girl as lovely as you are."
He moved his lips right over to hers and kissed her hard, pressing his tongue into her mouth, but he never got too far. Ilsa had turned her head.
"Hans, we should not be doing this. You should not be here."
"You want this to happen as much as I do, child," he said, and then, he slid his hand to her breast and began to massage it.
She had slapped his hand away, and that was when he had slapped her across the face, hard. In seconds, had had grabbed her hands, which she was flailing around randomly, in the hopes of trying to slap him away.
She hadn't even seen him pull the thick leather rope out of his pants, but when he started to bind her hands together, she wanted to die. She thought that he was going to kill her, for she remembered the way her mother had first been bound, then abused, and finally, shot right in the head.
Her hands were bound securely, the wrists laced together with the leather strap. He had not tied the end of the strap anywhere, though.
She watched as he sat on her tits and started to pull his cock out of his pants. When Ilsa had seen that, she had really felt like she would die. First they tie you, then they fuck you, then they kill you.
It was only logical for her to think that way, since she had seen such practices actually put into action.
She had been in tears as he'd moved up her body even more, pulled her head up by her blonde hair, and thrust himself into her mouth.
It was the first time she had ever tasted a cock in her life, and she remembered very little about it, except that she did not want it in her mouth. At the time, since her hands had not been tied to anything else in order to keep them above her head, she had been hitting him on the chest, with all her might.
Hans continued to thrust in and out of her mouth. She had never figured out if she just had not been hitting him hard enough, or if he had enjoyed the way she had been hitting him, as if it added to his pleasure.
"Yah, my little girl," he had been moaning. "You do not have to do anything. Just let Hans feed it all to you."
And he had been thrusting all the way in, sometimes to his balls, so that she would feel them pressing against her chin. She had been able to smell the male odor, which did nothing to her as far as arousal went.
Nor did it bother her. It was just there, something she would learn to associate with the male when he was aroused.
It had not taken long before Hans had started to pulsate hard, and for those few seconds, she had felt as if her jaw was being wrenched open. Then, he had pulled back a little bit, so that when he came, he was not coming in her throat, but rather, on her tongue. Only because he kept telling her to do it, did she swallow him, hardly even thinking about the taste of it.
After he had come, he had slid back down her body.
Ilsa had been reading a book when Hans first entered her room, and she had only been wearing her robe and nightgown.
As soon as he opened her robe, he pushed her nightgown up and started to move his head between her legs.
And that was when she first felt sexual pleasure. In many ways, she had been glad about the way it came upon her fast, for as he had first moved his head down there, Ilsa had smashed her hands against the back of his head. The two hands tied together were much more of a menacing weapon than one hand alone, but they had still not been powerful enough to knock him out cold.
She had her hands raised to hit him a second time, thinking that a few more blows would knock him out, when she felt it.
His tongue had pushed her lips apart, and it was running right over the swelling love button inside of her body. She felt a heat through her body like she had never imagined possible, and she started to come right away.
The passion was so fulfilling, and also so intense in its way, being the first time for her, that she locked her legs around his head, and held him there. Hans started to suck as hard as he possibly could.
From that moment on, she had not tried to fight back. She had held her bound hands over her head, as if they could have been tied to the bedpost to begin with. She started to thrust herself up and down, holding his head locked there, so that her love button would be moving against his warm, wet tongue.
She had loved every second of it, moaning as loud as she could the whole time.
Ilsa didn't even know how many times she had come, although she knew, later in life, that she had come a lot. For it seemed, at the time, like one continuous orgasm, one passion filled moment mounting over another one.
When his cock was hard again, he managed to break her leg lock.
As he had started to slide up her body, and she had seen his rigid member, and the way it stuck straight out, she had been scared.
Had Hans known any details about her mother's death, he would have understood her fears. He did see that she was starting to panic, though, and he told her that this would feel better than his tongue had felt.
Then, he rammed himself deep inside of her, with one hard thrust.
It had felt sensational. She had started to moan loud as she thrust herself up to meet him while he kept thrusting. She could feel the way the warmth of his shaft kept making nice contact with her erect love button. In fact, the warmth of his shaft seemed to be sending warm waves through her love button, and those waves were .intensifying themselves and working their way through her whole body.
When Hans moved his mouth to hers and kissed her hard, the feelings were even better.
His hands managed to push her nightgown up her body, over her breasts, and she felt the way his sweaty palms began to massage them.
Her nipples tingled with sensation, which she was loving.
He was inside of her cunt for a short period of time. When she felt him starting to throb, she could feel the way her whole body was shaking. Then, he started to come inside of her, and she moaned softly.
It had ended too fast for her, but he pulled out of her, cleaned himself up, and then he untied her.
And suddenly, because he had come, he seemed to change. He had started out rather nice, until she had fought back a little. Then, when she had submitted, he had been nice once again, although he was thrusting hard.
But now that he had come, he was angry, and their hostile feelings which they seemed to always display for each other, returned.
He slapped her across the face, and spoke in a threatening tone.
"If your Aunt Ava hears one word about this, I'll kill you. She would never understand if she saw us together."
Ilsa had promised not to speak a word of it, and she did not.
However, it seemed that whenever her aunt would be out, he would come into her bedroom and take her. Then, one night, he decided that he wanted her to service him all the way. By that time, she was sixteen, and each time he had been with her, he had tied her hands together, and tied the leather to the bedposts.
This time, he wanted her to service him. He had her tie him up, and then, she moved her mouth down over his body. She started to suck on his cock, which she had learned to love a little bit. It had not taken her long to make him come, and by keeping him in her mouth after the orgasm, she had kept him hard as well.
Ilsa had climbed onto his cock then, riding it up and down, sometimes sitting on his groin and not moving anything but her cunt muscles, so that they spasmed and massaged his eager to come cock.
She had started to ride him for the third time, having stopped twice before when he had been ready to come. Then, the door to her bedroom was pushed open, and her aunt was standing there, screaming at her.
Ava pulled Ilsa off the bed and began to kick and slap her. As she was screaming, Ilsa realized that her aunt thought she was responsible for what happened, and no matter how much she tried to explain that Hans had started it all, she could not.
Besides, how could Hans have started it when he was the one who was tied, seemed to be the thing that her aunt was screaming about Ilsa had been thrown out of the house then. She had been told to pack, and luckily for her, she had kept a great deal of the money she had taken from home. She had never told her aunt about it, thinking she might need it one day.
Her aunt did not even say goodbye at the door. After the woman had untied her husband and left the room, she had locked herself in her bedroom, refusing to come out until the horrid girl was gone.
Hans had been with her at the door, and that was when she had heard the truth from him.
"I am sorry that I had to set you up, Ilsa.
But I was growing too attached to you, and I knew that she would find out one day."
"What are you talking about?" she asked him.
He started to tell her that he had known Ava wouldn't be out so late that night. He had asked her to tie him up that night for a reason.
That way, his wife could come back home, discover them, and blame it all on Ilsa. She had always been jealous of Ilsa, since Ilsa was so young, and Ava did know that she was an older woman to her husband.
It would have only been natural for her to think her husband would want to stray toward a younger girl.
"And so, I had to make this sacrifice," he said. "I will miss you."
"You bastard. I have nowhere to go now. What shall I do?"
And that was when he told her about a bordello he knew of in Berlin. He told her that she could make an incredible amount of money if she wanted to, because she was still very young, and quite beautiful.
That was where she had gone, but before she left, she thanked him for telling her about the bordello, then slapped him across the face as hard as she could, pushing her nails into his skin at the same time, drawing blood.
"That is for setting me up and making me become a whore, you bastard," she screamed at him, and turned and ran before he could retaliate.
For the next ten years, Ilsa Baron had been a prized whore.
She knew what she was, although she hated to call herself by that word. She was just a woman who tended to keep men satisfied, and she liked to think of herself as being a good girl.
She had learned to love almost everything when it came to sex. Every orifice in her body had been penetrated by cocks of all sizes. Once, when a man with a thick cock had wanted to fuck a woman's asshole, she had been called, because after being fucked in the asshole for three years, she could take anything.
When it came to being bound, she could get into that, as well, since it was the way she had first been taken.
But what Ilsa Baron loved the most, and came to be known for, was her ways in which she could dominate men. She had once own a leather corset and high leather black boots, and those men who were looking for a dominatrix knew who to turn to.
It was easy for her to do that as well.
For one thing, she would always fantasize about the man she was beating, being Hans, and she was beating him to get revenge for what he had done to her, and the way he had set her up.
When she had a man tied to a bed, wrists and ankles securely bound, she loved to torture him sexually, riding up and down on his cock until she knew he wanted to come, and then pulling off before he could.
Repeated actions like this, after a time, could turn even the toughest man into a puppy dog, she had seen, and she had made fantastic money bargaining with the men when it came to a final price.
"I could keep you here all night, mein herr," she would say, letting her fingers dance along the top part of the shaft as her cunt was surrounding the head. "I know how much this cock of yours desires orgasm, but now, we must make a deal."
And they would always agree to give her more money, and she would always bring them off to most satisfying orgasms. She knew how to make her cunt muscles spasm even when she was not actually coming, and whenever a man would start to unleash his cream between her legs, she would work her cunt.
That way, every customer thought she had an orgasm at the same time that he did.
Because the customer would feel responsible for it, he would also feel more triumphant as a man, and give her larger tips.
After working there for ten years, she had amassed quite a sum of money. She had been thinking of retireing, but then, her friend Lila had come to see her.
Lila had started to work in a club called the Berlin Club, and she had been thinking of leaving soon. She had started to tell Ilsa about some of the things that went on at the club, and Ilsa had loved it.
She had been praised by many men when it came to her singing, for there were nights when the bordello had been slow, and a few men, and a few of the girls would sit around in the parlor, singing at the piano.
Many times, Ilsa would be asked to sing.
And so, she had gone to work at the club. It was a glorified way of continuing to be a whore, and although it was much less money than she had been making working and living in the bordello, it had been worth it.
For one thing, she did not need the money. For another, she loved to sing for audiences of cheering men. For another, she had been made emcee of the club, and because of that, she didn't have to take on as many men as most of the other girls did.
Sometimes, Rolf just wanted her to run to the dressing rooms and let the girls know that their time was up, and other men were waiting, and although she made no money when she did that, because she was not servicing the men, she didn't care.
One other thing kept her at the club.
Rolf Schmidt. From the day she had met him, she had fallen in love with him. He was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen in her life.
She loved his sculptured looks, and his straight blond hair, and more than anything else, she loved his cock.
It was the perfect sex when it came to filling her up, and Rolf really did know how to fuck her and turn her on. It didn't matter to her that most of the times when he was the hottest with her, she had been forced to her knees and had been bound.
The fact was, she fell in love with his cock as well as him.
And sometimes, when he didn't seem to take any notice of her, she would feel sad, as she did this night.
Of course, she was sure Rolf would satisfy her at the end of the evening. Ever since Lila had left, she and Rolf had become even closer. Often they had supper together after the show.
Sometimes, he would allow her to spend the night in his bedroom, and she was one of the only girls he allowed up there now. She hardly ever thought about the fact that each night when she stayed there, he would nuzzle up to her and fall asleep, so that when they awoke in the morning, his cock was already in her asshole.
He loved to fuck her asshole in the mornings.
But she could not help but wonder about what would happen this evening. She kept thinking that Rolf might want Ingrid to spend the night in his room, since she had been beaten so brutally by that bastard Nazi.
Ilsa would never forget the way that Lila's face had been beaten in. After Lila had been taken up to Rolf's room so that she could recover, Ilsa had gone up to see her friend, and they had talked.
Lila was the first person that Ilsa ever told about what happened to her parents, and Lila had been shocked to hear it.
"I am going to America," Lila had said to her then. "You must come with me. The times are changing here, and the Nazis are becoming more powerful. I believe that if they ever knew who you were, they might hurt you."
"I have changed my name, Lila. They will never find me. Besides, I must stay."
She could not tell Lila why, but there were two reasons.
For one thing, she knew that if Lila was leaving, she would have a good chance to get her boyfriend, and secondly, she was not scared of the Nazis.
"Then stay, if you must," replied Lila, "But see to it that you take care of yourself. The Nazis are dangerous, mark my words."
Ilsa smiled at her friend, and then kissed her gently on the lips, saying goodbye.
Chapter Six
He had not tied her up, but even so, she still thought he was a pig.
He hadn't even started to lick her cunt before going into her. Instead, he had slid her panties down, fingered her for less than thirty seconds, then rammed his way into her cunt. He was thrusting in and out much too hard, also, Heidi thought, and if he knew he would do it this way, he should have made her wet.
But she was too scared to say anything.
The man had not even undressed. Instead, he had just opened his pants and taken himself out. As she looked over his shoulders, she could see the way his behind was moving up and down, although she could not see bare skin.
She watched as he sometimes held himself back for longer periods of time, and she mentally prepared herself for the hard inward thrust which she knew would follow.
Then, her eyes moved up his clothed back, and landed where she wished they would not, for it always scared her.
He was wearing the red arm band on his right arm, with the black swastika there.
Every man who came to her room with one of those on scared her. She thought that they were all the same kind of mutant animals, with no thought in their minds other than their cocks, and unleashing their loads.
She had never been with one who was ever tender with her. Instead, they would be so hard and forceful, and sometimes, the only way she could get through what they were doing to her was to think that maybe inside, they were not real men at all, but just needed to put on this forceful, stupid exterior.
For instance, when he had first come into her dressing room, he had just smiled slyly, with one of those looks which let her know this man was well aware of how handsome he was. Still, she thought people who were handsome, who acted like they knew it, were the most obnoxious people in the world.
He had told her his name, which she had forgotten as soon as he had mentioned it, and then, he had pushed her down on her knees.
He had started to rub his bulge against her mouth, and eventually, he had pulled himself back, opened his pants, and rammed himself back in.
Heidi had kept her mouth open, like a good girl, and she knew just how to act like she was loving it, moaning around his cock.
Then, he had pulled himself out of her mouth, pushed her back on the small dressing room bed, fingered her for the whole half a minute, and started to fuck her, which he was still doing now, grunting and groaning like the pig she thought of him as.
Just then, there was a knock on the door.
"Heidi, five minutes until we are on," Ilsa Baron yelled out.
"Yah, I will hurry," the girl screamed, over the man's shoulders.
She had been told, during the last intermission, that she and Ilsa would be performing the wife, maid and husband routine. Ilsa was to play the maid, the part that Ingrid usually played, but of course, they all knew what had happened to Ingrid that night.
It was because she knew what happened, that she spoke softly to the Nazi, even though she just wanted to tell him to hurry up with his fucking.
"I have to be on stage in five minutes, mein herr, so if you could please hurry. I wish that I could be with you all night, but right now, that is not possible."
She moaned between words, always the good actress, and he looked up at her and smiled. Then, he started to thrust even faster, and, if it could be believed, even harder, and she felt her flesh being slapped over and over again.
Her thighs began to ache, but just then, she felt him pulsating hard. She stroked his hair and told him how good it was feeling, and how much she wanted to feel his warm cream filling her up all the way.
How his cock was greater than any other she had had, and how she could feel the fierce pulsations, letting her know that he was a real man.
She didn't have to go on after that, for he started to come in her that second.
She moaned louder as he did, and was happy that he kept thrusting, because she knew he would drain himself faster, and the faster the better.
All she cared about was getting him out of the room, cleaning her cunt, putting on the lovely black dress that she wore in this scene, and getting on stage.
He did pull out of her right after he came, wiping his cream covered cock on his silk handkerchief. Then, he smiled at her, thanked her, and left, pulling on his zipper as he walked out of the room.
"Bastard," she murmured under her breath, and ran to her dressing room mirror.
She looked at her face, and smiled. Sometimes, she did like the glow that was left all over her body after sex.
She thought about Ilsa for a few seconds, too, and was rather happy that she would be doing this next scene with Ilsa. After all, she knew that Ilsa was at least in her early thirties, although, sometimes, the woman could look much older. She always felt so much younger and more attractive near her.
And she was so sure that if all of the men in the audience were watching the scene and had to pick between the two women, they would pick her. That, of course, would mean more men during intermission, and although she did hate letting them fuck her, especially those Nazis, it was well worth it.
Nowhere else could she make as much money as she did in this club, and money, she had finally decided on, was the only thing that mattered.
Heidi took a damp cloth and washed her cunt out. Then, she slid into black panties and put on the dress over them.
She ran out toward the stage, just as the curtain was opening, and was glad that she had made it on time. Even though her entrance was not for a few more minutes, she did like to watch what was going on.
Ilsa walked on stage, dressed in a maid's uniform.
She was carrying in packages, which were obviously supposed to have just been delivered. She placed them on the large bed, and then started to leave the room. But then, she turned back and looked at the packages, with a wicked smile on her face.
She was the kind of maid who wanted to see what her mistress had bought, and she ran back and started to open the packages.
She screamed with delight as she held up a lovely lace bra and panties, and of course, the men in the audience screamed, too.
They knew that they would see this lovely maid in those things, and that was just what Ilsa started to do. She opened her uniform and slid out of it, displaying the simple black bra and panties that she had on.
Then, she slowly stripped out of those, teasing the men in the audience.
She stepped into the lace bra and panties, and her red nipples could be seen clearly through the tranparent bra fabric.
She walked over to the mirror, supposedly admiring herself, and as she did, Gunther entered, dressed in a suit. He was playing the part of Heidi's husband in this scene, and he had just caught the maid, dressing in the mistress's clothing.
"What do you think you are doing, dreg of the earth?" he screamed.
"Ach, mein herr, I did not know that you would be home so soon."
"That is obvious to me, you cheap slut. Parading around in the fine garments I buy for your mistress. If she ever heard about it, she would ..."
"Mein herr, you and I have always gotten along well. You will not tell her. Please. She would fire me if she knew."
Gunther moved his hand to his crotch then, and started to massage himself.
"Perhaps I will not tell her, my little one," he said. "But in order for me to do you this favor, you must do me one."
Ilsa moved toward him and smiled, and Heidi stood in the wings still watching. She remembered what that bastard Gunther had done to her earlier in the evening, and she wondered if Ilsa had seen it.
She wondered if he would try something like that again, fucking with his hard cock and really coming, when he was just supposed to be simulating it.
Ilsa started to sink down to her knees in front of him, and as she did, she was opening his zipper. She kept her head right in front of his crotch, so that the audience could not see his cock.
He was hard, and Heidi was a little bit surprised to see Ilsa starting to take the cock between her lips.
If the woman wanted to do it, Heidi thought, let her.
Gunther was removing her bra then, and the men in the audience were shouting about wanting to see her tits.
Ilsa got up, still moving her hand in front of his cock, and started to walk toward the bed, giving them a full view of her luscious breasts. Heidi had to admit that they looked fantastic under the spotlights, and overall, Ilsa looked terrific, too.
She slid out of her panties as Gunther moved between her legs.
He actually started to fuck her, Heidi could tell, and that threw her off. That bastard was fucking up once again.
For Heidi was supposed to enter now, and she didn't know if she should. She was supposed to come in, and the appearance of her character, his wife, was supposed to cause him to pull out. Of course, his cock was also supposed to be limp, and the audience would thinnk that he was so scared, he's lost his erection.
But since he was really fucking her, and they were only play acting, Heidi knew that he would not be limp when he pulled out of her. He would still have his erection, and she kept thinking about letting him fuck her until he came.
She soon saw the way his face went red and he started to moan. Then, he looked over toward her, standing in the wings, and he smiled. It was as if he was telling her that she should make her entrance now.
And sure enough, when she did, speaking her first line, accusing her husband of fucking this maid, he pulled out, and he was limp.
They started a fight, reciting dialogue that Heidi thought was horrible. She would have never said anything to Rolf about it though, since he wrote many of the skits. She had no idea if he had written this one or not, and hoped that maybe he hadn't, because she was getting tired of playing it.
In the script, she, as the wife, wanted the husband to fire this maid now, because she had caught them fucking.
Meanwhile, Ilsa lay on the bed naked, protesting, begging Heidi, her mistress, not to fire her because she needed the job.
And Gunther was trying to play along with the maid.
Then, Ilsa played her part well. She started to sit up closer to where Heidi was standing, and she began to move her hand to Heidi's breast. She stroked it through the dress Heidi had on, and of course, the men in the audience cheered.
It did not take much intelligence to know that the two women were going to get into a scene with each other, and scenes like that always brought the house down.
As Heidi started to pull away a little bit, acting as if she was outraged that the maid would touch her breast, Gunther grabbed her. He pulled her hands behind her back and started to bind them together with a thick cord.
Then, he ripped at her dress, tearing it, or rather, just tearing it where it had been sewn loosely, so that it would rip apart and leave her standing there in her black panties and black leather boots.
He pushed her down on the bed, and ripped at her panties.
From where the audience was sitting, they could get a good view of Heidi's spread legs, and her brownish-blonde pubic hair.
Ilsa, still in charcater, started to lower her cunt down on Heidi's face, and the young blonde began to act like she was eating the woman. Actually, although Heidi had been with a few women in her life, she enjoyed men more, and whenever it came to this scene, she and Ingrid would always pretend to be licking each other, while their tongues never even made the slightest contact with each other's cunts.
But then, as Ilsa started to lean forward and move her mouth down between Heidi's legs, she really started to lick her.
The audience, who all thought that this was really going on for good, was going wild. The men were cheering and whistling, and there was the constant sound of glasses being smashed onto the table, as a kind of cheer, too.
Heidi could feel the way her cunt was getting wetter and wetter, for the woman had really spread her cunt lips, and was sucking on her love button, flicking her tongue deeper and deeper into her at the same time.
Then, Ilsa started to lower herself down, and Heidi could feel the way the woman was smashing her cunt across her face, almost as if she expected some reciprocation. Heidi just kept her mouth closed tight.
Gunther had been watching the whole time, acting like he was getting off on it, the same way the audience was. Actually, Gunther was feeling the blood rising in his cock again, and he was loving the way it felt.
He started to get up on the bed behind Ilsa, according the script.
"Ach, mein lovely wife," he said, "I see that you can enjoy this."
He moved his hard cock into Ilsa's cunt from behind, and she started to suck on Heidi's cunt even harder, almost for some kind of support.
As she looked up, she could see Ilsa's cunt hovering right over her face, and she also saw that huge shaft moving in and out. She saw the way his balls were hanging very close to her own face, too, and that was when she had an idea.
She started to flick her tongue out at them, and she heard him moaning louder.
"Yah, mein wife. Yah, that is so good. So good."
She was hoping that he would move down a little lower, but when he didn't she was still able to lift her head up.
She opened her mouth and took his two balls between her lips. Then, Heidi closed her lips around them, and once she was sure that she was holding them tight, she pulled her head down as far as she could go, yanking at his balls.
Gunther let out a scream, which of course, the audience was convinced was a scream of passion. Actually, he had felt pain ripping through his body as he had felt the way she was tugging at his balls.
The pain was so intense that it completely overpowered the pleasure. He felt his cock going limp in Ilsa's cunt in a second, just as he was pulling back, trying to pull his balls out of Heidi's chewing grip.
His cock fell out of Ilsa's cunt, and then, Ilsa pulled her head away from Heidi's cunt and sat up. She sensed that something had happened, although she had not felt Gunther come inside of her.
Mentally, she had prepared herself for real fucking from Gunther, because she had heard about what he'd done during the Jesus skit, and there had been no doubt in her mind that as long as he could keep getting it up, he would keep doing it.
But he had been fucking her so well, and then, he had gone limp.
She had felt no pulsations, nor had she felt any come shooting.
"Ah, that was good," Gunther was saying, looking at Heidi with hate.
Ilsa moved to one side of the bed, and she heard Heidi whisper something to Gunther about going on with the script.
"Yah, it was good," Ilsa said. "And for you? Was it good?"
"Yah,"' Heidi said. "It is the kind of thing that will keep our family happy for all times to come. We shall do it again tomorrow night, and just wait until you see what other goodies I have brought from the store."
And as she was speaking, Gunther was reaching for another box. He started to open it, and he pulled out the largest phallus that Heidi had ever seen. It was the kind that was long, with two heads, one at each end, so that two women could use it on themselves at the same time.
The audience started to laugh as they saw it, and just then, the lights went out.
"You bitch," Gunther whispered in the darkness, and Ilsa was so sure that she had heard a slap then.
But the lights went on for them to take a bow, and everything seemed all right.
Once more, when they were off, Heidi cursed at him, and then the lights went on all over again. Then, the curtain began to close.
As the two of them walked offstage, followed by Ilsa, who had put on a robe to cover her total nakedness, she heard more arguments.
"What happened?" she asked, walking between the two of them.
"What happened, indeed?" Heidi said. "I just gave that bastard a taste of what he had given me this evening, earlier."
"I've heard about that. But what did you do to him exactly?"
And then Gunther spoke up, and talked about how she had held his balls in her mouth and pulled her head back so far, that she had been stretching them and causing him to feel the most intense pain possible.
It too had caused him to lose his erection, he didn't fail to mention.
"Well, Gunther, I do not know what to tell you. You started it earlier this evening, and Heidi was just getting her revenge."
"Yah, I know that I started it," he said. "But I made sure not to hurt her. What she did to me really hurt me, that bitch."
"Having those other two both fuck me at the same time in the cunt didn't hurt me?" Heidi asked him. "I know you set that up. And when you fucked my face, you bastard, you really fucked it. Well, drop dead. If you continue to abuse me, I will continue to abuse you back, and we'll see who lasts longer."
"We'll let Rolf settle all of this," Gunther told her. "I'll tell him to hire you. He can just pick up another whore."
"I am not a whore," Heidi said, and Ilsa felt so strange.
None of the people she worked with at the club, except for Rolf, knew about what she had done for ten years of her life, and when she heard someone calling another person a whore, as a put-down, she felt horrible.
"Yah, we will let Rolf settle this," she said, and it wasn't until then that she looked over and noticed that Rolf was not even where he usually stood.
He had sat out the other act, and she had found him in his office, snorting cocaine. She had been able to tell that he was already doing too much.
"Where is Rolf anyway?" Heidi asked, for she noticed that he was missing as well.
"I do not know," Ilsa said. "Perhaps he stepped out for some air. All I know is that I must get onstage and introduce the next act."
She waited as the spotlight came on, and walked in front of the curtain. During their talk, the stagehands had been working fast to get the new set on, and she could still hear them back there, so she knew that she would have to stall for time.
She told a few jokes, but got very little response from the audience. She did see a lot of Nazis sitting there now, many of them men who had been waiting on line in the alley before.
They had obviously fucked the girls before coming in, and now that they had gotten themselves to come, they were going to sit and watch the show until they were aroused again, then come back for seconds.
She looked at every face, for only a few seconds, and once she was sure that he was not there, she continued as usual.
The noise in the back had stopped, and she began to introduce the next scene.
It was another skit in which two men were interrogating a woman about her husband's death. It was not funny in any way, but the men loved watching the woman tied to the chair, under a spotlight, being hit, slapped back and forth across the face.
Of course, by the time the interrogation was over, she was completely naked, and they had supposedly both fucked her face. The two men who had played the guards with Gunther in the first skit were the two guards in this one, and she wondered if they were planning to continue the way Gunther had started the evening off, really using their hard cocks, instead of pretending.
It really made no difference, since Marla was one of the better cocksuckers, at least when it came to taking on the men backstage.
During a single half hour break once, she had taken on fifteen men, meaning that on the average, she had gotten them to come in less than two minutes each. It was some kind of a record, as far as Ilsa was concerned, and she was quite sure that Marla would be able to handle it if the two men decided to fuck her face for real.
She introduced the act, and as she was walking toward the wings, the curtain was spreading wide open.
She stood there and watched for a few seconds. Marla looked radiant with her red hair and her firm tits. She was wearing a bra that pushed them up and out, so her cleavage looked quite enormous.
When the men first started to open her blouse, the audience was cheering like crazy, as if every man was dying to get a look at her huge breasts. It was not until a few seconds later that the bra was ripped off, and the applause was deafening.
Then, Ilsa could see the way the two men were rubbing their cock bulges, and she knew that they both had real erections.
As the first moved in front of her and pulled himself out of his pants, she noticed the look in Marla's eyes. The girl had obviously seen the cock bulges and knew what was to happen for real. And also, it seemed like she didn't mind the idea of it at all, for she opened her mouth in a second, and started to take him all the way in.
About two minutes later, sure enough, he was coming, Ilsa could tell, and she thought that it had taken him a shorter time to come for real than it would have if he had simulated that he was fucking her face.
She had about five minutes before she had to introduce the next act now, and she knew she should check to see if Rolf was all right.
Chapter Seven
Rolf's head was still fuzzy when he started to wake up, and as he did, he moved his hands to his eyes. Or rather, he tried to move his hands to his eyes. It was only when he could not, that he felt the tautness tugging at his wrists, and even when he turned his head, he could not make out the leather straps that had his wrists bound together, for his vision was still fuzzy.
Too much coke, he thought, until he heard a voice talk.
"Are you all right, mein herr?" a male voice said, and when he managed to blink a few more times, and start to see more clearly, he saw a blond man standing in front of him. Next to the blond man, stood the luscious redhead.
And that was when it all started to come back to him.
He had been letting in the men, during the last intermission, as each girl was ready to take on a new one. Once again, Marla's tongue technique was proving to be quite a sensation, since she was taking on more men than all of the other girls.
But then, Rolf had noticed a stunning redhead on line.
"Yah, what can I do for you?" he had asked her.
For one thing, it was rare that women ever came to wait back here, since most of the people in the club knew what this line was for.
But when a woman did come, it was usually a woman accompanied by a man, just like that bastard who had slapped Ingrid so hard. He had come with his wife.
But this stunning beauty of a redhead was all alone.
She had smiled at him, running her tongue over her lips.
"You can do for me," she had said to him. "I know that usually it is the men who pay for the women, but do you allow the women to pay for the men?"
"Yah. Some of them do. Which one of the men do you want?"
"You, mein herr," she had said. "Though you do not perform, I see you standing in the wings during the show, and I like, much, what I see. I want what I see, and I am willing to pay dearly for it."
Rolf had felt his head swell a little bit. It had been the first time that someone had ever offered him money for his body, and although he had all the money that he could possibly use, the idea still thrilled him.
The fact that someone would be willing to pay for his body meant that she really had to want him. Also, the fact that this woman, who was one of the most lovely women he had ever seen, wanted to pay for him, thrilled him even more.
"Michael," he said, to one of the young actors who had been standing near him, "you will take over for me. Let the customers see the girls as they are ready. I will return very shortly."
"Ach," the redhead said, as she hooked her arm in his and started to walk toward his office, "I hope that you will not return very, very shortly, mein herr. That would mean you are planning on something so quick, and I could enjoy the lingering pleasure."
"Do not worry, everything will take its course," he told her.
He led her into his office, thinking he had locked the door. However, there was one point, later on, when she moved there, and now that he thought about it, she easily could have unlocked it then.
She sat down on the plush leather couch he had put there.
"You look pleasantly happy," she had said to him, taking off her gloves slowly and letting him see her soft looking, long fingers, with the lovely red nails. "I mean, by that, that you look unnaturally happy. What is it? Booze? Cocaine?"
"Yah, it is the latter," he told her, and she smiled.
"Wonderful. Although the sight of you makes me happy enough, the thought of the cocaine makes me even happier. May I have some."
He pulled out a small packet that he had put into his desk, and soon, the two of them were snorting it, as he sat near her.
She had started to rub her hand up and down his thigh then, and he had seen the way her green eyes glistened. As her fingers felt his already stiff bulge, she was licking her lips in the most seductive manner.
He felt his cock throbbing, as he thought about the way she would probably start to suck.him off. He knew that she had to have a fantastic sucking mouth.
After she had snorted some cocaine, she had gotten down on her knees in front of him. She had opened his pants, and as he lifted his behind up off the couch, she started to pull them down to his knees.
"Ach, mein herr, you have a cock unlike others I have seen," she told him.
He had to smile, but was not surprised to hear her say as much. He had heard things like that all of his life.
The redhead had started to move her mouth down on it, and as she did, he realized that he did not even know her name. In many ways, he liked that. After all, he thought, this was just sex for him. He did not want this woman to think that since she had come after him, he was going to fall in love with her.
She had an expert technique, he could tell, the second she had him in her mouth. She managed to move her lips all the way down his cock shaft, pressing them against his balls. As she held her lips there, her mouth opened a little bit and he felt her tongue flicking back and forth over his testicles.
It was a fantastic feeling, and as he continued, he moved his hands to her breasts and began to massage them gently.
She had moaned softly and had opened her dress, so that it fell forward in the front, and he could see her lovely naked breasts.
They seemed even larger because of the way she was leaning forward, and Rold had cupped them in his hands, pressing his wet palms against her nipples. He loved when he felt her nipples starting to throb.
Usually, he was able to hold back for long periods of time, but her technique had been so incredible, and the spasming of her throat around his cock head, so stimulating, that soon, he had been moaning loud.
She had felt his cock pulsating, and had slid her hand to the base. She pumped the base of him while her lips remained around the thick solid head. As his cream started to shoot into her mouth, she was flicking her tongue back and forth against the slit of his cock, making him moan louder.
Even after he had come, she couldn't seem to get enough of him, keeping her lips around his warm shaft, and letting her cheeks rest on his thighs. He still played with her breasts, although, now that he had come, he did not feel as high as he had felt before the orgasm.
He could not remember if he had said anything to her, or if she had just noticed it, or what had happened.
But when she pulled her head up and smiled at him, she spoke.
"Ach, I can see that you have come down a little bit, mein herr. I take that as a good sign, of course. A powerful orgasm for a powerful cock such as yours."
"Yah, it was good, and I have come down," he said.
The redhead had reached into her bag then, and she had started to pull out a rolled cigarette. She placed it between her lips and lit it. When she inhaled deeply and held the smoke in her lungs, he smelled the odor of opium in the air.
Rolf had smoked opium many times in his life.
She didn't hold the smoke in too long, and just passed the cigarette to him. He inhaled deeply, and held the smoke, but as he started to hand it back to her, she held up her hand and shook her head.
"Nein, I feel good enough. That is for you, to make you feel better."
"Danke," he said, and as he continued to smoke, she started to get up.
She stood up and began to let her dress fall down all the way in the front, wiggling out of it in an alluring manner. His cock, still nestled in his blond pubic patch, began to respond to her, clad in only panties and boots.
She slowly slid out of her panties, too, and looked even more tempting.
She spread her lips for him and started to play with herself. He put the cigarette down and moved his hand toward her cunt, but she smiled and pushed him away.
"Nein, mein herr. I want to do this for you. I know many men who love to watch women do things like this for them. I want to please you. Keep smoking, and I know that you will feel so much better."
He didn't mind. The show she was putting on for him was quite stimulating.
For she had been rubbing her fingers over her red cunt patch, and then, she had been spreading her cunt lips wide apart.
He could see her little erect love button, and when she started to move her fingers over it, he liked what he saw. He could tell by the tender way in which she was massaging herself, that she liked to do it this gently.
And, he could tell, too, that she was coming, for he could see the increasing wetness between her legs, some of which was already starting to run down her thigh. And yet, when he made a move to her again, she continued to tell him to smoke.
So he had, feeling even higher than he had felt before.
He stood up and started to get undressed all the way, for he could tell that hers was the kind of body he wanted to feel his naked flesh rubbing against. He knew how good it would be to press his chest down over her hard nipples, and feel the softness of her plush white breast flesh.
He finished the opium cigarette when he was naked, and then, she lay down on the leather couch, and spread her legs.
"And now, Herr Schmidt, I wish to feel that hard cock of yours between my legs. It is a mammoth organ, the largest I have ever seen."
He moved between her legs and rubbed himself there. He felt how wet and hot she was inside, and after her cunt lips had opened and closed around him just a little bit, he slid all the way into her.
She had let out a loud moan, which he loved, and she had wrapped her legs around his buttocks. She started to scratch his back with her long fingernails, and he pressed himself on top of her harder than ever.
Rolf could hardly remember what had happened then. He did not know if he had come inside of her cunt or not.
For as he was thrusting faster and harder, he felt his mind starting to spin. He thought about those times when he would get drunk, years back, before he had decided how horrible alcohol was for him.
He would come home late at night, barely able to make it up the stairs, and after he'd strip and lay down, he would get the spins.
Or that was what he referred to it as. The spins happened when he lay in bed drunk and kept his eyes closed, and suddenly, the entire bed felt as if it was spinning around and around, so fast, that he would feel sick.
It would only stop when he would open his eyes, and sometimes, even that wouldn't do it. Sometimes, he would have to sit up all the way, and even bury his head between his legs, until the feeling of nausea subsided.
He remembered feeling something similar a few minutes earlier, before he had awoke to find himself bound.
The spins, and he had panicked when it had happened, because he had tried to pull himself off of her, but she was holding him too tightly. She had her legs wrapped around his buttocks, and her arms wrapped around his neck.
All he wanted to do was get up so that he could put his head between his legs, because he felt so nauseous.
And everything after that was a total blank, but now, as he looked at the girl and his vision focused more, he could see that one of her cheeks looked swollen. It had not been that way when he had first seen her.
"Ach," the male voice said again. "I think he notices what he did to you when he hit you, Marlena. It was a stupid struggle, Herr Schmidt."
"Why?"
"You could not fight the drug in her cigarette. Perhaps you thought you were nauseous, the way you might be if you had too much to drink. But you passed out, not because there had been too much to drink, but because I wanted it that way."
"Who are you?" he asked. "What do you want from me?"
The blond man moved closer, and Rolf gasped. He could see the red arm band around the man's right arm, with the bold swastika. He knew that this man was a Nazi now.
"This club has been doing good business, Herr Schmidt,'' the man said to him. "Very good business. The Nazi party has taken a close interest in it. Besides the money you charge those fools at the door, there are the women back here. They make much money for you. Money that the Nazis could use."
"What are you saying? What are you trying to tell me, mein herr?"
"That the Nazis want this club. We could use the back for secret offices, and of course, the money we would take in from the front would help pay many expenses."
"Nein," Rolf started to shake his head. "Nein, I will never let you have it."
The man pulled his hand back and slapped Rolf across the face so hard, that when the man's head was wrenched to one side, he thought he had broken his neck. The redhead, whose name he now knew to be Marlena, gasped.
At that very second, there was a gentle knock on the door.
"Who is that?" the Nazi whispered in Rolf's ear. "Do not let anyone know what's happening to you here, or you die."
"Who is it?" Rolf yelled out, trying not to show any fear by his voice.
"Me, Ilsa. Rolf, are you all right in there? You sound strange."
"I am fine, Ilsa. I was just resting, and your knocks woke me up."
"Ach,, I see. Well, are you sure that you are all right?"
"Yah. I need to sleep some more. Please, run the show for me."
"Yah, I will. You do rest, darling Rolf. You have been very busy, what with that fucking Nazi and Ingrid."
"Ilsa, please go now," Rolf said, realizing that the more she talked against the Nazis, the more this man would hear her.
They waited until they heard the sound of receding footsteps, and then the Nazi turned back to Rolf and laughed hideously.
"I see that all of you hate the Nazis, is that true?"
"Nein," Rolf said, and the man slapped him hard across the face, as if he knew how much of a liar Rolf was.
"Now, Herr Schmidt," the blond soldier said, "the Nazis are prepared to pay you five thousand marks for this club of yours. You can leave Berlin and establish another club in another city. It would be to your benefit."
"I worked so long to make this club work for me. It is my whole life, mein herr. Surely you cannot take that away from me."
"What? Your club? Or your life? For you must realize that I can easily take both from you, Herr Schmidt, in seconds. I was told to offer you the money."
"I don't know what to do," Rolf said, and the soldier turned to Marlena, and started to smile at her, slyly.
He pulled Rolf up by his hair and threw him over on the leather couch, so that Rolf fell onto his back.
Then, Marlena got down on her knees between his legs.
He was terrified of what might happen, but her mouth worked him over so well, once again, that his love for being sucked overcame the terror. He felt the blood starting to rush back into his cock, and he thought that maybe he had to come in her after all, and that was why he was so responsive.
She started to moan as he was swelling, and then, she stood up. She moved over him and began to straddle his cock, spreading her cunt lips wide with her fingers, so he could see right into her.
She moved down lower and started to rub his cock against her cunt lips. Then, she sat down all the way, and Rolf could feel himself being buried in her warm flesh.
He moaned as she rode him up and down so expertly.
"Marlena can change the minds of most men," the soldier was saying to Rolf. "She can turn an anti-Nazi into a Nazi-lover."
Perhaps she could, Rolf kept thinking, but that would have only worked on a man who was not so used to having such good sex. He, on the other hand, was used to having many different girls a week, each of whom could do incredible things to arouse him.
True, her cunt felt so nice around his upraised cock. He could feel the way his shaft was pulsating harder, and when she stopped moving up and down, but rather, just sat on his groin, he felt her cunt muscles spasming.
It felt sensational, and kept his pleasures at a high, although it was not enough to bring him off all the way.
His arms, meanwhile, were aching, since they were bound behind his back, and her body weight on top of his was causing his arms to cut into his back.
"Will you sign your club over to us?" the soldier kept asking.
And all he could think about was his cock, and how nice it felt, but how it did not feel nice enough to make him change.
Then, when he felt movement on the couch, he looked up. The Nazi had pulled his cock out of his pants, and was moving behind the redhead. He spit on his hand a few times, and then, rammed himself into her asshole.
Rolf could feel the way the Nazi's cock was stretching the girl's asshole, and even making her cunt feel tighter. As the girl moved up and down on his cock still, and the Nazi was fucking her asshole, Rolf felt almost as if they were moving together.
"Kiss him, Marlena. You have the kiss that convinces," the man moaned.
And as she bent down and started to kiss him, Rolf could feel the way the Nazi was thrusting in and out of her asshole even faster.
She felt how nice it was, and moaned loud, for he had fucked her ass many times, and she had always loved it. Of course, it was because Marlena knew how much he loved to fuck assholes, and she loved satisfying him.
He started to pulsate in her asshole soon, and he kept thrusting, not even wanting to hold back. Because their cocks were so close together, separated by the thin membrane of skin between the cunt and the asshole, Rolf could feel the way the Nazi's super thick cock was pulsating, and he knew what the man was moaning about, when he moaned.
Then, Rolf could feel her cunt spasming harder around his cock, and she was moving, even faster, bringing him closer and closer.
He started to moan loud, and she felt him coming inside of her. He could feel how warm her cunt was, and she spasmed even tighter as he was coming.
She stayed on top of him for a long time, and it was not until Rolf felt a hand touching his cock, that he realized the Nazi was pulling him out of her cunt. She climbed off his body, and as Rolf looked down, he saw the man holding his cock with one hand, and pressing a razor blade against it with the other.
"You have a thick cock, mein herr," the man said. "I am sure that it is the kind of cock that many women had admired. I am sure that you have pleased every woman who you have ever been with. It would be a pity."
"A pity for what?" Rolf asked, although he had a good idea.
"A pity for you to have no cock for the rest of your life. I am sure that it is your prized possession. Perhaps the loss of it would make you kill yourself."
"What are you saying."
"I will castrate you if you do not sign the papers I have brought with me. Come now, they are right here."
The Nazi pulled his hand away from Rolf's cock, reached for the man's hair, and pulled him to his feet. He led Rolf over to where his desk was, and pushed him down in the seat. He untied his hands, but held a knife to his throat.
"There is the paper. Sign it, Herr Schmidt. Sign it now."
Rolf glanced over it. Basically, what it said was that he, as owner of the Berlin Club, was signing it over to this man, and it had the man's name there.
There was nothing about the money he had been promised, and he looked up and asked the man about it.
"You will get the money. Just sign right over there."
Rolf had no choice. He could feel the blade being pressed against his throat, and he knew that this man would kill him if he did not sign.
He wrote his name slowly and carefully, with tears streaming down his cheeks as he did so. Then, after he had finished, he handed the Nazi the paper.
"Danke, Herr Schmidt. You have done well. Now, we won't have to worry about anything happening. We own the club, officially."
"And what about my money?" Rolf asked, but he hardly even had a chance to finish what he was saying, when he felt his throat being ripped open.
The Nazi had slashed his throat open with the knife, straight across, and Rolf gagged on his blood in a matter of seconds.
He fell face forward on the desk as the blood began to pour out, and the Nazi looked over at Marlena, who, although she had seen the whole thing, didn't really seem to care. She had had dealings like this before.
"Stupid fools, some of them," the man said. "Don't they realize that it's much easier to kill them than to pay such a large sum of money?"
She didn't answer. She just started to get dressed, and soon, the two of them were walking out of Rolf's office.
As they did, he spotted an incredibly beautiful blonde walking into her dressing room, and Marlena could see he was interested.
"Wait for me in the front of the club," he said. "I must have that girl."
"Oh Kurt," she said to him. "I cannot believe you sometimes. Kurt Schlimmer, you can never seem to get enough sex. I'll be waiting outside for you."
Chapter Eight
Had she heard right? And if so, how had he gotten in without her knowing?
Ilsa stood to one side, backed up against the wall, so close, that she thought she was almost part of it. She had been standing in the wings watching the last skit for that half hour segment, when the door to Rolf's office had opened.
The man stepping outside looked a bit familiar, although, the many years that had passed by since she had first seen him, brought many changes.
He had been a man in his twenties then, so he was now in his early forties, and had many more lines on his face.
The redhead with him was someone she had never seen before, either.
Then, the man had seen Heidi walking toward her dressing room, and he had said something to the redhead about wanting her.
She thought that was odd, since the woman seemed to look at this man with such admiration, as if she really loved him. And yet, the soldier with the swastika was going to fuck another woman.
And then, Ilsa had heard him called by name.
Kurt Schlimmer, and as soon as she had heard it, she'd backed up against the wall. She had known, deep down, that there was no reason to be afraid of him spotting her, because she had only been ten at the time.
And, as she had changed over the years, so had he, and it was not until she knew it was him, that she began to look at him and see all those features she had seen so clearly in her mind all those years.
He had aged quite a bit, and perhaps it was because of some of the wrinkles that she saw on his brow, that she didn't recognize him at first, but once she knew it was him, she wanted to kill him.
But then, she saw the redhead walking back toward the stage door exit, just as Kurt Schlimmer was knocking on Heidi's door.
She asked him to come in, and he did. As soon as that happened, Ilsa ran off to Rolf's office, and knocked on the door.
When he did not answer, she opened it, rather surprised to find it opened, because usually, when he was alone, he preferred to keep it locked.
She first saw him leaning face forward on his desk, and imagined that he was sleeping. It was not until she was close enough to see the pool of blood he was swimming in, that she knew he was dead.
She fell to her knees in tears, and as she touched his thigh, a drop of blood dripped off of the table and landed on her hand.
"Oh Rolf, what did that bastard do to you? What did he do? I'm going to kill him for you and for me. I've wanted to kill him for years, and now I'm going to. That pig deserves to die a slow, horrible death."
She could not stop crying, and it took her the longest time before she was able to take a deep breath, stand up, and finally start walking toward Heidi's dressing room.
As soon as someone had knocked on the door, of course, Heidi had told them to come in. She had been thinking that fucking Rolf was working too fast, because she hadn't been off the stage for more than three seconds when the first knock came.
The door had opened, and she had seen the handsome blond man.
She had looked at his face first, enjoying what she saw, but then, she had noticed the uniform, and the arm band.
She smiled, although she hated him, and wished he was gone.
"You are very beautiful," he said to her. "I saw you on stage earlier this evening and was taken with your loveliness."
"Thank you, herr..."
"Schlimmer," he said to her. "You may call me Kurt. And yours?"
"Heidi," she said to him, and she noticed the way he was rubbing his hand near his groin, and also noticed the way his cock bulge was starting to swell in his pants.
He was still standing near the door, and she moved closer, thinking that she might close it on him. But he stepped into the room, and she slammed the door shut.
She had taken off her costume and had been getting ready to put on her robe when he entered, but now, she tried to cover her naked breasts. Kurt laughed when he saw the way she had done that.
He moved his hands to her arms and pulled at them, exposing her tits.
"Ach, they do look better on stage. I can see why you try to cover them."
She slapped him hard across the face, and he slapped her back, so hard, that she fell to her knees in front of her.
"Rolf said that it would be all right for me to come to you," he said, lying of course. "He wanted me to try you out, to see if I want to keep you here still."
She didn't know what he meant, but she could see the stiff bulge between his legs, and as he started to open his pants and pull himself out, she gasped. She had never seen a cock as large as his.
He started to rub his cock against her lips, playing with her nipples at the same time. Then, he leaned down and pulled hard at her panties, ripping them off.
"Ach, I see you are not a natural blonde," he laughed.
She hated him, and pulled her mouth away from his cock. However, when she did that, he slapped her hard again, and rammed himself between her lips. He held his hand near the back of her head, and as his cock moved deeper and deeper into her throat, she could feel the way she was gagging.
She started to press her hands against his lower belly, trying to push him back, hoping that his cock would fall out of her mouth and never return. When he saw the way she was doing that, he moved his hands to his belt.
Kurt opened it as fast as he could, and he grabbed her wrists.
She hardly even knew what was happening, until it was too late. He started to tie her wrists together, using the leather belt to restrain her, and she could feel how tight he was pulling it, so that.it burned into her flesh.
She started to cry, and by the time she had begun to struggle, he had her bound tightly, so that she couldn't pull free.
With his free hands, he started to slap her across the face, hard.
"You suck cock like a rank amateur," he said to her. "I would think that you would do it more professionally, for a whore."
She wasn't sucking him, she knew, and she hated him for saying what he was saying. After all, he was brutally fucking her face, and wasn't giving her much of a chance to suck him. The feelings that he was getting, or lack of feelings, so it seemed, were because of him, and certainly not because of her.
He pulled his cock out of her mouth, and began to slap her across the face with it as hard as he could. She felt the way her cheeks were stinging, and tried to move her mouth back around the shaft.
"You don't suck well enough to warrant a return visit of my cock," he was laughing. "But soon, you will feel it in your cunt, and then, in your asshole."
Ilsa was standing right outside of the door at that point, and when she heard the anger in the man's voice, she stooped down.
She looked through the keyhole, and she could see the way that bastard had Heidi down on her knees. He was hitting her with his cock, and when she got one look at it, she remembered it.
She remembered the way he had jerked on it, and how he had come, and she hated him for it. She hated him for everything he had done.
When Heidi heard him talk about fucking her asshole, she was scared. She didn't believe that she could take in a cock the size of his. It was thicker than any cock she had had in her life.
He pushed her back onto the small bed and started to thrust himself into her cunt.
As he did, he was laughing, for he knew he was hurting her.
"You had better get used to me," he moaned, as he pinched and twisted her nipple. "Get used to me, for I have just purchased this club from Herr Schmidt. I own it now. He signed it over to me, and I own it."
Ilsa covered her mouth, even though she was outside. She was so shocked to hear that this bastard was going to run the club, and she knew that if he heard her gasp, he might come out and find her.
It did not take much for her to realize the ways in which he had probably gone about getting Rolf to sign the club over to him.
He had, of course, threatened the man, Ilsa was sure, and then, when Rolf signed, he killed him. Perhaps, she thought, Kurt Schlimmer had promised Rolf some money for retribution, but of course, a Nazi was a Nazi, and not to be trusted.
She saw the way he was thrusting in and out of Heidi, and Heidi had her head thrown back, groaning in pain.
"Ach, this cunt has had many cocks in it," the man said to her. "I can feel how stretched out you are. I know you must have fucked a lot of people. I'm going to take you in the ass now. That will be good."
He pulled out of her, and Ilsa could see his huge shaft. Then, he rolled Heidi over on her stomach, and spanked her buttocks a few times, pulling her up closer. He pressed the head of his cock against her asshole.
Heidi buried her mouth in the covers as he thrust in all the way, but even two blankets were not enough to muffle her groans of pain. He started to thrust in and out of her fast and hard, continuously slapping her ass.
Ilsa stood up then. She still did not know what she was going to do, but she knew that she could not let this man continue.
"Heidi," she said, knocking on the door, "the time is up."
She opened the door and stepped in. When Kurt took a look at her, she thought that he knew who she was, but then, she saw him smiling. He did not know at all. To him, she was just another one of the actresses, meaning that she was another one of the whores for him to be with backstage.
"Close the door," he said to her. "Come here and close the door. I am the new owner of this club. Who are you?"
She told him her name, Ilsa Baron, and since her real name had been Barr, there was no reason for him to suspect anything.
She was wearing her robe, and she had her knife in the pocket.
"What do you want of me?" she asked him.
"I want to eat you while I fuck this whore's asshole," he said. "She does not even have such a tight asshole. The taste of your cunt will turn me on enough so that I will be able to come in her."
She moved closer to the bed, and took a look at Heidi. She wondered if Heidi could see her, since the girl's eyes were filled with tears, tears that had to blur the lovely blonde's vision and keep her from seeing clearly.
"Shall I climb up here?" Ilsa asked, and she climbed right onto the bed, and moved one leg on each side of Heidi's prone body.
That way, she could open her robe and her cunt would be at the same level as his face.
Heidi moaned a little bit more. She knew how much Ilsa hated Nazis, and wondered why the girl was doing this. Why hadn't Ilsa just run to get Rolf for help. Rolf would have gotten his knife and taken care of this.
"Ach, you have a nice pussy," the man said, and he moved his mouth between Ilsa's legs and started to lick her.
She could feel his tongue playing with her clit, but she had been with enough men to know how to channel her pleasure. Even though he was licking her quite nicely, she was not letting herself succumb at all, although she was acting that way.
"So you now own the club here, is that right?" she asked, and he mumbled something that she didn't hear, because his mouth was still pressed against her pussy.
"That should be nice. It should be very nice."
She moved her hand behind his head, and held it there. She wanted to make sure that his mouth would be pressed against her cunt at all times.
"I see then that you have gone far, or perhaps as far as one can in the Nazi party. It is good. But let me tell you something. I know you. I know you from years ago, and I saw you."
She pulled the knife out of her pocket, and held it against his throat lightly, so that he didn't even know what she was doing.
"You see, Herr Schlimmer, I am the daughter of Kurt Barr. I was hiding behind the curtains when you killed my mother and father. I have waited for this moment for years."
He tried to pull his head back, but she was holding it steadily.
Also, he was lost in some of the pleasures from the fucking, and from the sweet scent of Ilsa's pussy. Therefore, it was simple for her to ram the knife into his throat and pull it sideways, ripping his throat right open.
He moved both of his hands there, and the blood trickled from between his fingers.
He was not dead yet, as he fell back and his cock was out of Heidi's cunt. Ilsa reached for his limp dick, pulled on the head, and sliced right through it, so that she was holding it in her hands.
He was coughing and writhing on the floor, trying to decide which area of his body he should cover, for blood poured freely from both. In End, he had no choice, for he was soon dead.
Heidi was crying even more as Ilsa untied her. When Ilsa had first cut his throat, the blood had poured all over her back.
"Why did you kill him?" Heidi asked.
And Ilsa started to tell the young girl the whole story about her parents, and how they had been tortured, speaking as fast as she could.
"Rolf is dead, too. That bastard slit his throat. He's in his office now. They forced him to sign over the club. Now hurry and shower, Heidi. You and I have to get away from here. Hurry. Meet me in Rolf's office."
"But why? What?"
"The Nazis will never use this club for their own perverted purposes. Rolf would not have wanted it that way, nor do it. I could never think of letting them run this place. It makes me sick to think of it."
She ran out of the dressing room and hoped that Heidi would follow her orders.
She ran up the stairs to the small apartment that she sometimes shared with Rolf, and started to pull all of her clothing out. She packed it into a few suitcases, and then, reached for the money she had saved.
She had kept most of it there, in case something happened and she had to flee.
Then, she ran into Rolf's bedroom, and as she picked up the device, she could feel tears rolling down her cheeks.
She would never forget the night he had shown her the bomb he had once built.
"It was simple, and so I made one," he had said to her.
"But why, Rolf? For what reason do you need a bomb? I think that it's a stupid and risky thing to have it around."
"I fantasize sometimes," he told her. "Would you like to know what my greatest fantasy is? It will shock you." - "Nothing can shock me," she said, and since he knew about the many things she had done while working at a bordello, he had laughed.
"This will. Or perhaps not, since your hatred for the Nazis is as intense as mine. I fantasize about having the whole club filled with them one night. Everyone in the club, every patron, is a Nazi."
"How horrible, Rolf. How can you think about that? It's awful."
"Wait, my darling, Ilsa. I have not finished. When they are all seated and waiting for the show to begin, it goes. There is a huge explosion on stage, and the whole club blows up with all of them there."
"What do you mean? And us? What about us?"
"We will let them think we are backstage, but I will have cleared out all the workers, so that they are not here. That way, only the Nazis will die."
She started to laugh as she ran down the stairs with her suitcase and money in one hand, and the bomb in the other.
She thought about telling the others, who worked backstage, about what she was going to do, but she could not. It would arouse suspicion if too many people started to run out of the stage door.
She met Heidi, who had dressed, and she looked at the bomb.
"What is that?" she asked, but Ilsa said nothing.
She ran into Rolf's office and put the bomb on his desk, near his dead body. She remembered the way he had told her it could be set off.
She pushed the button and heard the way it started to tick.
Then, she looked at Rolf for a second, and kissed him on the back of the neck.
"Too bad you have not lived to see your fantasy fulfilled. But perhaps your soul has not risen all the way out of your body. If not, then you will see it."
She ran out of the room and locked the door behind her.
"Come, Heidi," she said. "Come. Let us run out of here."
They started to run toward the stage door entrance, and as they stood there, she could see all the Nazis lined up.
She looked down at them, and started to scream.
"Tonight, Herr Schmidt has told me that all of the girls are on the house. You can all go in and take whomever you like."
The men cheered, and the two girls stood to one side as they all ran in. Then, she slammed the door shut and started to run out.
For a few seconds, as she dragged Heidi behind her, she felt badly about poor Ingrid, who would never know what hit her. She did not feel as bad about Gunther, who was a bastard, and deserved what he got.
They were a few blocks away when the town seemed to rattle with the explosion, and although Heidi turned to look, Ilsa kept pulling at her as hard as she could.
It was only later, when they were on the train, headed toward Austria, that she started to tell Heidi that she had set off the bomb. Heidi cried for all the innocent people, who she knew had died, but Ilsa told her their lives had been worth the price, when you considered how many Nazis went up.
Ilsa had enough money to have taken a small room, and the two of them were lying in the small bed as they talked.
Ilsa could feel the heat of Heidi's body next to hers, and she moved herself closer and rubbed her legs between the girl's.
They were both naked, and she could feel the wetness of Heidi's cunt against her knee. Eventually, she slid her fingers there and began to massage the girl.
"When you did this on stage, earlier tonight, I didn't know if I liked it,"Heidi was moaning. "Now, it seems to be my only comfort."
"You and me, both," Ilsa said. "Lick me and make me feel better."
Ilsa lay back and felt the warm breath of Heidi moving closer between her legs. The younger girl began to lick her cunt lips, spreading them wide apart. She found Ilsa's erect love button and started to suck on it.
"Yah, that feels good. You will be a comfort to me in my old age, Heidi," she said to the girl.
