Slaves of the Swastika (15 page)

While Sergeant Katzmire and the two secret agents had been arresting Kathy Flichtsen at her house,
Oberst
Mueller and his two subordinates had been amusing themselves with Trudy Heinzelman and Eva Jung.

Lovely golden-haired Eva who had found strapping so agonizing that she could not retain her stoicism, had gained very little by her betrayal of Kathy—though actually it had really not been a betrayal at all, since the sadistic Gestapo officer had put two and two together after learning that Kathy's father owned a printing press and possibly still had it.

But having been so successful with so mild a persuasive argument, and inflamed by the voluptuously ripe beauty of the golden-haired victim, he had himself ripped off her brassiere and left her naked except for stockings, garters and pumps, and then had libidinously commanded, “Now then, you little whore, you're to amuse us while we're waiting for your girlfriend Kathy, you understand me? Unless you want Manfred to use the strap on your backside again, you're going to rub yourself against little Trudy there until either of you comes. Do you know what I mean by that?”

“Oh please, for the love of God, oh no, don't make me do such a shameful thing,” Eva Jung had pleaded.

“Don't give me this little modest act of yours, you
Hure!”
the
Oberst
sneered. “I'm quite sure that neither of you has any right to the respect we good Aryans give a virgin. Boys, find out for me, why don't you right now?”

“With the greatest pleasure,
Excellenz,”
Willi Murtens gloated. Stepping up behind poor Trudy, he lowered his right forefinger and brought it up between her buttocks, playfully jabbing in the very narrow crease between those compact, jouncy creamy cheeks of hers, already violently striped with the angry red bands left by the black strap. Trudy uttered a cry of indignation, twisting herself, glancing round, her eyes flashing with loathing and shame at this Nazi brute. But gyved as she was to the triangle, she could not escape, and after goosing her several times, the beetle-browed private drew his finger away, only to reach between her thighs and up into the thick black curls which covered her vulva. “Noooo!!! you filthy swine, you beast, you brute!” Trudy cried shrilly as she twisted and jerked herself, dragging at her shackled wrists with all her strength. But Willi's finger had penetrated the thick silky down, probed between the palpitating soft pink petals of her cunthole, and inserted itself inside the vaginal sheath. “She's no virgin,
mein Oberst!”
he proclaimed. His colleague had meanwhile, gone behind the weeping golden-haired Eva, inserted his right forefinger in the fissure between the young woman's seriously streaked bare buttocks, and after goosing her playfully several times, made the same test. And with the same result: his finger is furrowed to the hilt inside her quaking cunt, and he too informed the Gestapo chief that Eva Jung had no tactual evidence of maidenhood.

“Just as I thought,” the fat Gestapo officer jeered. “It's always the little whores who are sleeping around with their boyfriends who by some trick or another have kept out of the Army, who are the holiest! Just lay a finger on them, and they shriek that they're the purest of maidens! Bah, what nonsense! Well, girls, since you're not maidens and therefore don't deserve our gentlemanly respect, you're going to do exactly as we say, or we'll find ways of persuading you. Manfred, give Eva's big
Arsch
a few good hard smacks with your hand, just to remind her what it's like.”

The grinning Nazi soldier immediately complied, and his right palm crashed four stinging times against the ripest curves of Eva's bare, welted buttocks. Her plaintive cries and sobs excited all three men, as she wriggled her hips and jerked her body convulsively.

“That's very good. Now then Eva, go on. Do what I told you to. Next time, Manfred will use one of those whips on the wall, the kind which will tear your skin to shreds. Such nice skin, too, just like a fresh carnation. I wonder if your boyfriend is remembering what it looks like when you strip naked for him before he fucks you,
Fraulein
Eva.”

Eva Jung turned her tear brimming eyes to the wall on which the hideous array of flagellatory instruments hung, and shuddered. She could not bare pain, and her bottom already was hurting her terribly. That was why, when the Gestapo officer again commanded her to rub her cunt against Trudy's she closed her eyes and submissively began that lascivious and suggestive movement of her voluptuous naked body which ground her loins against her partner's.

“Before you both get too enthusiastic, my dears,”
Oberst
Mueller sniggered, “I think I ought to put some sort of prize on this little contest. The girl who comes first will be spared a flogging. And then I myself will honor her with a good fucking, just so that she doesn't think that in wartime a pretty girl has to work her feelings off in this filthy way. But the loser, the one who doesn't come, she'll get “a good sound thrashing and then my boys here will stick their cocks inside her
Arsch
understood? Go to it, you dirty little sluts!”

To emphasize the diabolical threat he had just made, the
Gestapo
chief himself walked to the wall, reached up and took down a cat of nine tails made of supple brown leather, the tips of whose thongs ended in arrowhead-like points. He swished this through the air several times, so that both girls could not help seeing it, and Eva gave a sobbing little cry and frantically began to grind her cunt against poor Trudy's.

The three sadistic torturers gloated at the sight of these two lovely young university students bound to the triangle facing each other and forced out of their repugnance over the odious conditions he had imposed, to perform this lubricious and inverted act.

As the
Oberst
had suspected, it was Eva Jung who first began to experience sexual gratification from this coerced friction, because of her own terror, and because the threshold of her sensitivity had been keenly exacerbated by the strapping inflicted on her bottom. So after a few moments, it was seen that her head fell back, her eyes closing, and her lips parted to emit feverish gasps, and that the muscles of her calves and thighs rippled and flexed and jerked almost uncontrollably as her hips began to rotate more and more quickly.

Trudy Heinzelman had closed her eyes and bitten her lips, submitting herself passively to her friend's frantic Venus-veneration, and she prayed for a quick death. And then suddenly she heard Eva utter a sobbing groan, and felt the golden-haired young woman fuse her body in a long and violent and straining cohesion, and then she felt the seeping moisture of Eva's lovecream against her own quivering cunt.

Eva was therefore pronounced the “winner” of this heartless game, and at the officer's order, the two privates unshackled her from the triangle, only to turn her around to face the
Oberst
and then again gyved her wrists and ankles into the metal cups. Now, straddled, panting, her face crimson with shame, her head bowed, her magnificent ripe titties rising and falling turbulently, she was offered to him as he unbuckled his trousers and let them down, he then drew his swollen prick out of his shorts and, stepping up to her, greedily squeezed her titties with his fat fingers as he prodded with his cockhead for the moist matted curls of her cuntfleece. Slowly, holding his breath with ecstasy at the tantalizing warmth and quivering of that exquisite nook,
Oberst
Friedrich Mueller slowly pressed his prick home to the roots inside Eva Jung's churning cunthole.

The two privates now seized those cruel black straps whose ends were cut into three tapering “fingers.” Each stationing himself to one side of Trudy Heinzelman, and at a given signal, the two men began to flog her and already vividly streaked creamy buttocks with the black leather bands, using the terrible biting tips of the straps to flick against the edges of the bottomglobes, or, at times, against the extremely narrow shadowy groove which separated her boyishly compact posterior globes.

And even Trudy's courage could not withstand this double flogging, so after about a dozen of such lashes, she began to cry out and to jerk and twist. These maneuvers naturally rubbed her cunt against Eva's whipstreaked and swollen bare bottom, and her lunges and squirmings under the lashing forced the sobbing Eva to arch herself out at the rutting Nazi satyr who was fucking her with furious digs while his fingers pitilessly pinched and tweaked and kneaded her titties.

But Trudy's cries were as nothing when, tiring of whipping her, the two soldiers cast away the straps and prepared to sodomize her. Willi Murtens was first with her. Avidly digging his fingers into the quaking, jouncy cheeks of her well-flogged bottom, he gaped them apart to expose the dainty thin-lipped orifice of her virgin asshole, and then a despairing shriek rang out as Trudy stiffened and jerked to feel the hideous distension of that phallic weapon within her narrow and hitherto unprofaned bottomhole.

Manfred Strobel followed his companion, and again Trudy's cries grew desperate and hysterical in the torment of this brutal frictional assault upon that most intimate and tenderest spot in all her live young body.

When it was done, the
Oberst
hitched up his trousers, and passed out cigars to his two “boys” urging them to take a little rest until Sergeant Katzmire could return with Kathy Flichtsen....

By the time all three men had finished their cigars, Sergeant Lulwig Katzmire knocked at the door of the interrogation cell and was admitted by Willi Murtens. He entered, leading Kathy by the wrist, and shoved her forward into the chamber. “Look what I found,” he exultantly announced. “Look at her getup, too. Just like a man, I guess maybe she was going to try to sneak away.”

“Well, young lady, I've been wanting to meet you for quite some time,” the
Oberst
drawled. He walked over to her, not bothering to button his fly, and Kathy shuddered as she stood facing him in her sweater, trousers and workman's shoes. “So you're the one who's giving Professor Kurt Nordheim that nice pussy so that he ignores his darling little wife,
nicht wahr?

“I—I don't know what you mean.”

“You know well enough, you lying little whore!” His hand flashed through the air and crashed against her cheek, making Kathy Flichtsen stumble back with a cry of pain. “I'm going to give you a rough treatment right from the start, because I think you've got the answer to this nasty little business of the newspaper that dares to insult our beloved Leader. All right, boys and you, too Katzmire, strip her stark naked and put her in the electric chair. Tie her down nicely, just enough to hold her but let her have a little freedom. I want to see her wriggle when she feels the juice going through her. Maybe if we find the right spots, we'll make her wriggle as much as she does when she fucks with the
Herr
Professor,
hein?”

Kathy cried out and tried to run to the door, but the three Nazis caught her and dragged her back towards the solid chair. In a few moments she writhed between them, naked as the day she was born, her long brown braids dancing in the air as she twisted this way and that trying to free herself. They forced her down to the chair, bound her wrists and elbows along the arms, tied her ankles tightly to the front legs, passed a rope around her waist and the back of the chair, and then the
Oberst
himself approached, picked up one of the electrode clamps, and while Sergeant Katzmire stood behind the chair and seized both her braids in his hands and yanked them so as to tilt her head far back, the
Oberst
made the clamp fast to her left nipple. He held the bare wire which directed the current into that clamp close to it and then nodded to Willi Murtens, who squatted down by the black box on the floor.