Nazi Capturers
by Roger Paleau
(PCB-102)


FOREWORD 

In the popular English-based television series, "Upstairs, Downstairs," one 
of the most stirring episodes is that in which a group of lower-class 
domestic servants becomes infuriated over the stories of German atrocities 
in Belgium during World War I and the sinking of the Lusitania. Looking back 
today, it seems hard to credence the public fury and hatred which was 
aroused by these reports, many of which have since been discounted as clever 
propaganda to help the then floundering Allied war effort. 

Such is not the case with German sadism and atrocities in World War II 
however. We have the horrifying documentation of the death camps like 
Auschwitz, Dachau, Belsen and Ravensbruck, the confession of Adolf Eichmann 
and the macabre memoirs of Heinrich Himmler, as well as the pitiful stories 
told by many of the surviving victims during the Nuremberg and subsequent 
trials. Under the hypocritical guise of "purification" of the Third Reich, 
Hitler and his infamous colleagues wreaked a sadistic, inhuman purge of 
thousands upon thousands of decent, law-abiding but "inconsequential and 
inferior" men, women and children. For many sexual perverts and sadistically 
warped men and women, putting on the uniform of the swastika, whether that 
of the S.S. or the dread Gestapo, was a carte blanch to the unleashing of 
their latent cruelty and sexual debauchery. A prime example was Use Koch, 
the "Beast of Buchenwald," who made lampshades out of human skin and 
summoned male prisoners to her nymphomaniacal bed till, tiring of them, she 
had them sent to the gas chamber or the "experimental surgery" rooms. 

But far worse than death in the gas chamber- which by comparison was 
infinite mercy as against lingering death by starvation and the diseases 
which struck those weakened by malnutrition, pigpen-like incarceration and 
arduous manual labor-was the calculated and monstrously sadistic deprivation 
of human dignity by fear and shame and pain, particularly as this regiment 
was ruthlessly applied to attractive young girls and women. Here there is 
ample documentation, so that even a fictionalized novel such as this smacks 
of realistic truth. One has only to study the journals and secret papers of 
the leaders of the French Maquis, organized about the time Charles de Gaulle 
called on loyal Frenchmen to resist, to understand the reality of thousands 
upon thousands of inhumanities practiced upon female captives whose only 
"crime" was to be born in a country at war with Germany, or, still more 
heinous in Nazi ideology, to be of Jewish blood or religious preference. 

 -THE PUBLISHER 


CHAPTER ONE 

Glancing nervously down the narrow, dark alleyway off the Rue Pigalle, 
Judith Arnheim opened the door of the supply warehouse next to the Cabaret 
Etoile. She squeezed in and stared for a moment at the shadowy rows of bins 
and metal shelving till her eyes accustomed themselves to the gloomy 
darkness. Then she moved to a huge rectangular trash container. Lifting it 
to one side, she squatted down, running the tip of her right forefinger over 
the wooden planks till she found a round black spot which looked like tar. 
She pressed this and a section of the planks slid away with a. rumbling 
sound to reveal a narrow descending stairway. Quickly she went down the 
steps, pulling the container over the opening before the planks slid back 
into place. 

At the bottom of the stairs, a shadowy figure holding an automatic pistol 
said, "Come forward slowly, your hands up, and no tricks!" 

"I want to see Pierre L'Aigle, it's desperately urgent," Judith said in a 
soft, husky voice. 

A flashlight blinded Judith, revealing her exquisitely lovely face. She was 
twenty-two, her raven-black hair close-cropped. She wore a dirty tan blouse 
and a man's gray work trousers, heavy shoes and woolen socks. The clothes 
did not conceal the lush ripeness of her high-perched, round breasts or the 
supple waist which flared into the lasciviously rounded, resilient hips and 
curvaceous, womanly thighs. 

"Walk forward now, get going!" The voice was a girl's, harsh and cynical. 
Judith saw a honey-haired girl dressed like a man with black beret, sweater 
and trousers, who gestured with the pistol as Judith walked slowly forward. 

A naked electric light bulb lit up the darkness over a rough wooden table 
behind which sat a wiry, black-haired man in his forties, with short, 
pointed Van Dyke beard. On each side of him, dressed like men also, were two 
attractive young women, one auburn-haired, plump, petite and bespectacled, 
the other tall, slim and brown-haired. 

"You've some explaining to do." The man stared coldly at Judith Arnheim. 
"First, how did you know where and how to come?" 

"My name is Judith Arnheim, and two weeks ago the Gestapo took my father and 
mother to their headquarters on the Rue de Montreuil. They died under 
interrogation." 

The man's eyes showed nothing as he stared at Judith. "Claudine, keep that 
pistol at her head. If I nod twice, pull the trigger." 

"C'est entendu," Claudine's small ripe mouth twisted viciously. 

Judith Arnheim understood. She might die if her story was doubted, but her 
voice was steady and calm. "My father was arrested because he was a friend 
of the Blenheim boy, the heir to millions of gold francs the German pigs 
still haven't found. Max Blenheim's parents were killed by the Gestapo just 
as mine were, and he went into hiding. Just before he did, he visited us and 
told me how to find L'Aigle. He said you met on Wednesday mornings and the 
password is 'A has les monstres'." 

The bearded man leaned back in his chair, lit a cigarette. "Claudine won't 
pull the trigger. You're not one of those Nazi cochons. You know too much. 
But why did you come here?" 

Judith Arnheim compressed her full red lips, her eyes narrow and cold. "To 
help the Maquis. And to make Herr Hauptmann Dietrich Vertmery pay a debt of 
blood." 

"The new Paris chief of the Gestapo?" 

Judith nodded, holding back her tears of frustrated fury. It would be worth 
dying to have a hand in Vertmeyer's death. 

"Yes, you can be helpful. Have you got the guts to be a double agent, 
Judith?" 

"Try me." 

"We will," the man smiled coldly, with neither warmth nor humor. "This pig 
Vertmeyer has two of our girls in his special interrogation rooms in the 
basement of that building, which used to be a hotel before the traitor Leon 
Blum gave our country to the Bavarian house painter. Vertmeyer sometimes 
sends pretty female prisoners to the special new concentration camp at 
Choiseul, about seventy miles to the south of Paris, where the Gestapo has a 
fancy brothel. If you can get into the camp, you might be able to contact 
our girls. And as a Gestapo whore ..." The man shrugged eloquently. "Who 
knows whom you'll have an opportunity to kill?" 

"If you'll give me the chance," Judith Arnheim instantly replied. And then 
she hesitantly added, "I'm a virgin." 

The Maquis leader looked startled at her admission. "Being a virgin won't do 
you much good in a Nazi whorehouse. I'm going to call your bluff and give 
you a little preview of what's in store for you. Then we'll see if you can 
be of service to your country. Madeleine, Louisette, pull her down on this 
table and get her pants off!" 

Judith put up a hand and backed away, her gray-green eyes widening and vivid 
blush suffusing her olive-sheened cheeks. But already the two girls at the 
table had leaped forward, caught her by the wrists and were dragging her 
back to the table, pulling her down along it, till only her lower legs 
dangled over one edge. Claudine pocketed the pistol, moved quickly forward 
and began to unbuckle Judith's belt, then yanked down the trousers to expose 
the girl's voluptuously ample bottom sheathed in white cotton panties. The 
man nodded, and Claudine, scarcely hesitating, ripped the panties off with 
both hands. 

"Why are you doing this to me? Stop it, I'm not a spy!" Judith cried, 
aghast. 

"I'm sure of that, but you're going to be one, and a whore. The Gestapo 
isn't going to believe you like to take on men between your legs, Judith, 
not when they find you've still got your maidenhead. And I also want to find 
out how much pain you can stand, because you'll get plenty of it in your new 
profession. Hold her steady, girls. Claudine, hold her ankles, she'll start 
kicking in a minute." The bearded man unbuckled his black leather belt and 
pulled it out of the loops and swished it in the air as he rose. 

Judith saw him lift the belt, then bring it down with an angry crack over 
the tops of her ripe naked hips. Grinding her teeth, the girl kept from 
crying out, but she could not control the convulsive jerk of her tethered 
body. 

My God, I wasn't prepared for this! I've never been naked in front of a man, 
not even my darling Max-and here I am on a table being whipped by the head 
of the Maquis, and he said something about my virginity-I wonder if he 
means-oh no, he just can't-oh my God, it hurts, it burns! I'm so ashamed to 
be like this-I won't cry, though, I've got to avenge my parents-I'd die to 
do that-ohhh, how it hurts, he's cutting the belt down so hard on my bare 
flesh-mmmm, I can't keep my hips still, I know I'm showing him everything 
I've got-oh this is horribly embarrassing- aiiii, again, again, I don't want 
to cry, but I can feel the tears coming just the same-oh, Mother, Father, 
this is for you-I'm suffering for you-and it's nothing to what I know you 
went through before they let you die, those animals! Aaaah, my poor bottom's 
on fire, and that time the end of the belt snaked in between my buttocks and 
stung me just horribly-oh my God, won't he ever stop? Haven't I proved 
already I've got g-guts-oooooh, I'm twisting like a worm on the table, I'm 
rubbing my-oh my-oh it's strange-it can't be-I feel excited-just as I 
dreamed of being with Max in bed, his strong arms holding me, all naked and 
loving me-because I'd saved myself for him- oooooh, my p-pussy's getting hot 
and tickling, and it's w-wet-Oooooh, he's s-spanking me again, ever so hard 
and fast now, oh, my bottom feels raw-aaaaah, my God, what's happening to 
me? 

Tears blurring her enormously dilated eyes, her face uptilting to the 
glaring naked light bulb which shone down directly above her, her trousers 
twisted round her calves, her ripe buttocks vividly striped by twenty 
whistling cuts of the black leather belt, Judith Arnheim threshed and 
squirmed. Her groans and sobs rose but as the belt swung down again to cling 
diagonally over her shuddering, welted bare bottom-cheeks, her loins jerked 
feverishly from side to side, grinding her thickly furred cuntal lips 
against the rough wood of the table. 

"Aaaah-oh my G-God, enough now, enough, haven't I stood enough by now?" she 
groaned, turning her tear stained face to stare imploringly at her torturer. 

He flung the belt to the floor. "Turn her over now, girls, and pull her 
pants off. You, Claudine, hold her wrists and you two others each take an 
ankle and straddle her legs as far as you can." 

"Oh no-what are you going to do to me-oh my God-oh you can't mean it-oh no!" 
Judith raised her head, staring incredulously as the leader of the Maquis as 
he calmly yanked down his zipper and drew out a long, dark-veined prick in 
savagely throbbing erection. Fondling it with his right hand he approached 
the table, which was at waist level. 

"I told you, the Nazis aren't going to think you're a feld-hure if they find 
you've still got your cherry, Judity. I'm actually doing you a favor. Or 
would you rather have some fat oberst or maybe even a lowly korporal fuck 
you the first time? Keep those legs wide apart, you two-the way you do when 
we're in bed, remember?" 

"How could we forget, mon cher?" the petite bespectacled girl giggled as she 
yanked Judith's right ankle even farther away from her companion on the 
other side of the table. 

Judith yanked at her wrists, but Claudine's grasp was mercilessly strong. 
She raised her head to stare, fascinated in spite of her revulsion, at the 
plum-shaped, purplish glans which the man called Pierre L'Aigle pinched 
between right thumb and forefinger as he impatiently commanded, "All right, 
mes petites now pull her legs forward till that hairy little slit of hers is 
right up against my becque." 

"No, I forbid you to-you have no right to-no, I'm a virgin-oh my God-oh it's 
horrible-please-please don't do it to me!" Judith hysterically sobbed, 
frantically yanking at her wrists in the steely grip of Claudine. 

"Don't carry on so, bitch." Claudine leaned forward to taunt the beautiful 
raven-haired captive. "As Pierre says, it's better the first time when a 
Frenchman fucks you instead of one of those Nazi pigs. At least Pierre knows 
how to make a girl cum, and I can tell from that wet pussy of yours, that 
little spanking got you all hot and bothered, didn't it? Give it to her 
good, Pierre!" 

"Oh God-aaaahhhh-" Judith wailed and arched and twisted frantically. He had 
just rubbed the tip of his bulging prick against the moist twitching pink 
lips of her virgin cunt, and again she threshed madly to prevent this 
unspeakable catastrophe. She wanted to stop. To back out. To tell him she 
changed her mind. 

Then she started convulsively, her eyes huge glassy as they fixed on the 
pitiless cohesion between his glans and her gaping, palpitating, moistened 
cuntal lips, as she felt it pry between them and slide up against the 
resistant barrier of her cherry. Once again she exerted all her strength to 
break free of Claudine's grip, but in vain. "I'll make the painful part of 
it quick, Judith," Pierre promised. Sinking his fingers into the welted, 
upturned cheeks of her distended buttocks, he lunged savagely. Judith 
uttered a frenzied, prolonged shriek at the first brutal twinge. Then her 
head fell back, turned to one side, and she burst into racking sobs at the 
knowledge that she was no longer a virgin. 

Leaning forward, Pierre thrust home slowly till his cock was buried in her 
to his balls. His hands clutched at the heaving round turrets of her titties 
whose lush elasticity he could feel through the tight sweater, the man's 
shirt and the cheap cotton bra. Squeezing and fondling them, he slowly began 
to gouge in and out of her tight, quaking cunt, till slowly Judith's face 
again rose, this time her eyes wide and lustrous with an incredulous glow. 

Oh God-I can't believe it-the pain's gone, but I'm so hot-not only in my 
poor bottom, where he whipped me so well, but in my p-pussy-oh-oh 
-oh-I'm-i'm responding to him-I can feel my hips jerking back and forth to 
meet his big th-thing-oooh, oh this is crazy, unbelievable- but I can't help 
myself-oh my God-it's as if Max was doing it to me-oh darking yes-yes-yes- 
I'll pretend it's you who's h-having my poor torn stretched p-pussy-ooohhh! 

With a sudden strident cry, Judith Arnheim's body leaped and writhed against 
her captress's hold, and then she fell back with her body shuddering in the 
throes of cum just as Pierre deluged her torrid seething cunt with his 
volcanic spurt. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

The afternoon of August 17th, 1940, the day on which Dr. Josef Goebbels, 
Hitler's Minister of Propaganda, triumphantly announced the blockade of the 
waters around Great Britain was the blackest hour of the war for the free 
people of Europe. For a fourteen-year-old girl named Lisette Nourmain, it 
was a day of unspeakable agony. 

Slim as a boy, her blonde hair closely cropped, with tight oval buttocks and 
small but exquisitely orange-shaped breasts, she had a piquant, saucy face 
with a straight, dainty little nose, small impudent mouth and clear, widely 
spaced blue eyes and firm chin. This had helped her disguise herself like a 
street urchin, with a tattered cap pulled over one side of her face, a 
leather jacket, ragged trousers, work shoes and socks. 

Two German soldiers had seen her enter a bookshop they were watching in the 
Lavernier district west of the Seine. The book dealer had tried to escape by 
the rear exit but he was shot and Lisette captured. Half an hour later, she 
found herself in an interrogation cell in the basement of the five-story 
gray stone building on the Rue de Montreuil, which had once been a 
fashionable hotel, but which the Nazis had commandeered with the occupation 
of Paris. It was a building now feared by every patriot, since it house the 
newly appointed Gestapo chief for all Paris, Dietrich Vertmeyer. One of 
Vertmeyer's subsidiary duties, by Himmler's own personal instructions, was 
to make periodic trips to the new concentration camp and its affiliated and 
notorious "Hurenlager" in Choiseul. 

Though he presently held only the rank of captain, great things were 
promised for Dietrich Vertmeyer. He was forty-two, about five feet ten 
inches in height, corpulent, with receding gray hair and the florid face of 
an aging lecher. He had proved his loyalty to the Third Reich just a year 
ago when he had denounced his own attractive twenty-year-old cousin to the 
Gestapo after he had overheard her remark to her teenaged brother that 
Germany's tragedy was that it was under the leadership of a man who hated 
the world and would destroy instead of advancing German culture. His cousin 
had died under the whips and pincers and the electrodes, praying to God to 
punish him for his betrayal. 

Two months later, while on furlough in Berlin, Dietrich Vertmeyer visited 
his younger brother's cameo-like twenty-five-year-old wife, Kathe. 
Vertmeyer's brother Hans was fighting on the Russian front. Kathe despised 
her older brother-in-law, knowing that he wanted to go to bed with her. 

But fortune smiled on Dietrich Vertmeyer that late afternoon when he walked 
in, he surprising Kathe with the flaxe-haired, nineteen-year-old daughter of 
an elderly baker who lived in the same building. And when he found the two 
young women both naked except for their slips, rolled up to their armpits, 
twisting and squirming together, their pussies rubbing together in the sweet 
friction of girl-fucking, their tongues in each other's mouths, their hands 
caressing titties and bottoms, he had drawn his Luger from its holster. 

Then he had telephoned the Berlin headquarters of the Nazi secret police. 

Admiring the patriotic zeal of a man who would denounce his own 
sister-in-law to the Gestapo, the Berlin Kommandant had permitted Dietrich 
Vertmeyer to help conduct the interrogation. Both Kathe and Gretchen were 
hoisted by their bound wrists with a pulley rope fixed to a ceiling ring, 
their bare toes wriggling about three inches from the stone floor, placed 
facing each other and with a heavy leather belt buckled round their waists. 

At Vertmeyer's signal, two non-commissioned officers had seized leather 
whips and begun to flog the helpless, naked women. After they had had forty 
lashes apiece, Dietrich Vertmeyer himself approached the writhing, 
half-fainting girls, touching the glowing end of his cigarette to their 
welted bottoms and thighs and their heaving titties. Under this repeated 
"persuasion," he was overjoyed to draw from the agonized blonde paramour of 
his brother's wife the admission that her mother had been Jewish. That, 
alone, was enough to condemn her to death. But righteously he said, sneering 
at the moaning Kathe. "You dirty bitch, you're not fit to be married to my 
brother who is fighting for the Third Reich-faugh, rubbing your kootzele 
against a dirty Jewess!" Then, resuming his seat on the low stool placed 
before the two naked, whimpering women, he directed the two interrogators, 
"Now, guten Knaben, send your whips up between the legs of these two filthy 
whores, perhaps it will heat them enough to accept the honor of a good Aryan 
fucking!" 

And the whipping was resumed. The leather thongs swept up between Kathe's 
and Gretchen's struggling, writhing thighs, biting into the soft, pulpy pink 
flesh of their tender cunts and into their butt holes as well, making them 
gyrate and rub themselves lasciviously together while Dietrich Vertmeyer 
joked, "Harder, give it to them, boys! Don't you see, they prefer to rub 
their cunts together instead of being overjoyed at taking your big 
Schwartzes? Make them beg for it, whip them till the blood runs!" 

After the savage flogging, Kathe and Gretchen were lowered to the damp stone 
floor and revived with buckets of brine sloshed over their striped, 
agony-sweating bodies. Then Dietrich Vertmeyer unbuckled his trousers, drew 
out his heavy, broad prick and flung himself down upon his brother's wife 
and fucked her savagely as he had long dreamed of doing, while the two other 
men compelled the younger girl to suck one of them while the other was 
fucking her till both men had enjoyed these two delicious entries. 

The next day, both Kathe and Gretchen were sent to Ravensbruck, where they 
eventually died in the gas ovens. Dietrich Vertmeyer sent his brother a 
sorrowing, compassionate letter full of condolences, telling him that he had 
found Kathe corrupted by a treasonable relationship and that it was better 
that she died to save the honor of the family. The letter was never 
answered; Hans Vertmeyer had already died at Stalingrad. 

Dietrich Vertmeyer received a promotion from lieutenant to captain and the 
Iron Cross from Himmler's own hands. And when his predecessor, Hauptmann 
Klaus Junge, was found stabbed to death with a chisel in the back of the 
neck in an obscure little alley near Montmartre, who was more qualified than 
Dietrich Vertmeyer to take his place? 

* * * 

The new Gestapo chief had been the very first to question young Lisette. A 
quick search revealed no identity papers, but after he had slapped her a few 
times in the face with his leather-gloved hand and pinched her dainty 
nipples through the sweater, Lisette had sobbingly avowed that she had come 
from Normandy to enter the ranks of the Maquis, because her father and other 
and brother had been shot as hostages in their little village after an 
attempt had been made on the life of an S.S. lieutenant. Terrified, her face 
ashen-pale, she whimpered, "I-I didn't mean to do any harm-please, I haven't 
hurt anyone. Let me go, I won't ever do it again!" 

Dietrich Vertmeyer and the two burly korporals he had ordered to accompany 
him on his visit to what he liked to call his Peitchen Zimmer, whipping 
room, roared with laughter. "Isn't she like a naughty little child, nicht 
wahr?" he chuckled, "but now you've just admitted you've been naughty, 
Liebchen, and naughty girls must be spanked a little. Suppose you get her 
ready, Knaben." 

Vertmeyer sipped schnapps and smoked a cigar while the two grinning soldiers 
stripped the whimpering, pleading girl. 

Half an hour later, her chin was no longer so firm, and her pale 
carnation-tinted skin was blazing with the marks of the lash as she hung 
head downward, suspended by cords attached to her big toes from an iron bar 
fixed in the ceiling. Her slim, sleek bare legs were spread a full yard 
apart, and she was naked. 

"Now then, my dear child," Captain Vertmeyer said with a benign smile as he 
rose and flicked the hot ashes of his cigar into the lewdly gaping pink maw 
of her sparsely haired cunt. "Maybe we can get at the real truth. I believe 
your story about coming to Paris to join the Maquis. Only your accent isn't 
that of Normandy, you dirty little liar. I think you know where I can find 
this Frenchman who calls himself L'Aigle, the Eagle." 

"I - I don't know anything ... vraiment, oh, ayez pitie!" the young girl 
faintly whimpered. 

"You see, we're not so stupid as you think us, Lisette. You wouldn't be 
dressing like a boy if you weren't up to something nastly." 

"Ohhh-je ne peux plus-I-I can't tell you anything more-I swear it par le bon 
Diey!" Lisette whimpered. "Oh, please, let me down, the blood is going to my 
head, I'm going to faint-oh it hurts me so!" 

"Wirklich? Don't worry. You won't faint, my my little darling. So you like 
to dress like a boy, do you? Well, I must say you nearly deceived us all. 
But now that I see you naked, I don't think you're a boy at all. You have 
some delightful feminine qualities-like this, for instance." With a sadistic 
grin, Dietrich Vertmeyer stretched out his gloved left hand, applied thumb 
and forefinger to a sprig of her soft dark-blonde cunt hair, then savagely 
yanked it out. 

"Aiiiii! Pas ca, oh, je souffre, j'mai mal, ohhh, Maman!" Lisette shrieked, 
as her sweating naked body lunged and twisted. 

He glanced up, his watery blue eyes glittering to see that the girl's big 
toes had become swollen from the chafing bite of the cords which held up her 
entire weight. "I'm afraid you're going to have to bear a great deal more of 
this. I've only just started with you, my lovely child!" Again Vertmeyer 
reached for another sprig of her pussy hair, then yanked it out by the 
roots. 

Lisette's body swayed, jerked and twisted. Korporal Heinrich Schatz had, of 
course, taken the precaution of tying the little bitch's hands behind her 
back so she couldn't protect herself. With a delight it was to see that pink 
nakedness wiggle about and jump and squirm at the end of a rope, and she was 
still young and fresh enough to stand a great deal more. 

Removing his gloves, the Gestapo chief gently and lovingly caressed 
Lisette's straining, sweat-glistening, whip-striped bare thigh near the 
crotch. Then, putting his cigar back into his mouth and picking up a 
flexible short black leather riding crop in his right hand, he lifted it 
slowly and brought it down with a deft flick of his wrist so that the 
oval-shaped flap smacked right into the girl's yawning cunt. 

A second, then a third flick attacked the same tender gape, and once again 
Lisette shrieked out her agony, her body plunging wildly from the pitiless 
cords that bit cruelly into the swollen toes. "I'm losing my patience with 
you, you little slut," he snarled as he pressed the shaft of the riding crop 
into her inflamed pink cunt and sawed it back and forth. "Now, are you ready 
to tell me what you really do for the Maquis? What's the name of your group, 
and who's the leader? Answer me, I order you!" 

"Mon D-Dieu, k-kill me, get it over with-oh mon Dieu, I-I hurt so-oh kill 
me, please kill me!" Lisette feverishly moaned, digging her fingernails into 
her sweaty palms, her eyes bulging and glassy with agony. 

With a savage oath, Dietrich Vertmeyer pushed his heavy wooden footstool 
behind the girl, mounted it, and forced open her tight ass cheeks. After he 
had exposed the dainty, shrinking orifice of her butthole, he maintained 
this distention with his left thumb and forefinger while he gestured to the 
other corporal, Hans-Georg Richter, to hand him the riding crop. Pressing 
the handle against the sensitive and shrinking inlet of Lisette's bottom 
hole, he slowly pressed it home as he ground his teeth together. 

"Oooohhhh-aaaahhhh! Pitie! Take it out of me-oh, you'll tear me to 
pieces-ouuuuu- assez, assez, je vous en supplie!" she raucuously screamed. 

But with an inhuman grin, Dietrich Vertmeyer forced the riding crop into the 
girl's asshole till it was lodged as far as it could go. Then, as she still 
screamed and twisted, he shifted the stool around in front of her. Mounting 
it and sinking his fingers into her shuddering buttocks, he thrust his rigid 
prick downward against her tortured young cunt. With a bellow of delight, he 
felt the sudden resistance of her maidenhead, heard her cry out shrilly in 
her intolerable pain and shame. With a hoarse grunt, he lunged himself 
downward till he felt the barrier give way. Then, panting with rut, he began 
to fuck the naked helpless young girl whose screams, cries and incoherent, 
babbling entreaties were the sweetest of all music to his ears. 

When he had finished, he squatted down and, having put his gloves back on 
again, cupped the girl's congested, tear-wet cheeks, lifted up her head and 
then began to rub his bloody prick clean against her short-cropped hair. 

"Now, Lisette, since I've given you just a little pleasure, hein, let's 
resume our little chat," his voice was greedily thick. She closed her eyes 
and whimpered, and he chuckled with gleeful anticipation. 

At his sign, Hans-Georg Richter brought him a pair of steel pliers. He 
applied the jaws of these to one of her dainty coral-tinted nipples and 
began to tighten with infinitesimal slowness. "Die Wahrheit, Lisette! I want 
the truth now!" he hissed. 

"Nooooo!!!!Ahhrrrr, Dieu me sauve!" the young girl shrieked, beside herself 
with the unspeakable agony. "I'll tell, I'll tell, oh let me be, only let me 
be, I'll tell you anything-" 

"For whom to you work then? Answer quickly, or I'll tear it off, I promise I 
will!" he gloated. 

"I came here-oh, que je souffre, Maman ... two months ago to ... to find 
L'Aigle." Her body was suddenly shaken by a convulsive tremor. "Oh please 
let me down-oh my toes, they will be torn off me-that's all I know-I swear, 
I haven't found him yet, I went to the book dealer because I was told he 
might tell me-" 

The Gestapo chief swore. "Are you sure that's all you know? But this book 
dealer must have given you an address. The soldiers tell me you were in 
there at least five minutes before they came to get you-talk, schnell, 
Dime!" Again he tightened the pliers, this time with the jaws against the 
other nipple. Lisette shrieked and lunged and twisted, and he could see her 
arms wrench at the tight hempen cords which chafingly bit into her sweating 
slim wrists, purplish-red with the marks of that constant friction and her 
frenzied attempts to free herself all through this infernal ordeal. 

"I know nothing-oh that's all-I swear it-I only started-I was to meet this 
man-oh mercy -let me go-ahrrrooowwwooo, oh please, help me, Maman!" Her head 
flung back and forth, her mouth gaping, her eyes rolling to the whites. 

He ground his teeth in frustrated rage. "You bitch!" he growled. His gloved 
hand tightened the pliers again, till blood oozed from the lacerated, 
swollen nipple. A last wild, straining cry burst out, and then Lisette 
Nourmain's body stiffened and sagged inert. 

"Der Teufel!" the Gestapo chief growled. Taking off his glove, he put his 
hand to her left breast. But there was no heartbeat. A fatal heart attack 
had stolen Captain Vertmeyer's youngest victim from him before he was done 
with her. His frustration swelled through him-and, if it was possible, 
Dietrich Vertmeyer's insanity grew too. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Judith Arnheim had been lifted from the table by the three girls who held 
her. Claudine had helped her drag her trousers back on. Then, with an arm 
around her shoulders, Claudine guided her to a chair. Petite Luisette gave 
her a cigarette and tall, brown-haired Madeleine poured her some cognac. 

The leader of the Maquis sat behind the table smoking a Gallois, regarding 
her through narrowed eyes, a wry smile on his thin lips. "My apologies for 
giving you such a difficult time, Judith, but we're fighting for our lives. 
The French have surrendered. Only, we haven't. Nothing personal, you 
understand." He permitted himself a mocking smile. He didn't sound as if he 
meant it to the trembling girl, sobs still welling out of the depths of her 
body. 

Judith Arnheim's lips trembled as she took a deep drag on the cigarette, 
shivering and closing her eyes, unable to keep hot blushes from spreading 
down her cheeks to her throat. Her insides were still churning, and her own 
voice sounded distant and unreal to her. Oh my God, I'm blushing like a 
school girl! But it's just incredible, what happened to me. And there he 
sits, dismissing the entire episode, while my bottom's on fire and my 
p-pussy's still throbbing from that rape -because that's all it was. I-I 
understand why he did it, and now I've got to go through with this more than 
ever, because I was saving myself for Max until my poor parents were 
murdered by that Nazi bastard-now all the more reason for my helping to 
avenge them. 

The Maquis leader eyed her a moment. "Do you know what Hauptmann Vertmeyer 
looks like?" 

Judith shuddered a hand to her eyes and bit her lips. "I'll never forget his 
piggish face. I'd just come back from seeing Max for the last time. He told 
me about hiding the money at the house. I saw the Gestapo cars parked at the 
curb of the building, so I went around the alley. The concierge is a decent 
old woman and she hid me in a closet. They dragged my father down the stairs 
and kicked him when he stumbled and fell. And the Hauptmann had twisted my 
mother's arm behind her back and he was saying, 'We're going to find your 
little daughter too, Liebchen, and we'll put the two of you together and see 
if we can find out whether you dirty Jewish bitches value gold more than 
life!' Then he shoved both of them into the car and got between them. The 
concierge has a young nephew who delivers the mail and pretends to be 
sympathetic to those animals, and some sergeant at the Gestapo headquarters 
was joking about the two old Jews they had fun with the night before in the 
basement and how they both died squealing like stuck pigs." Judith bowed her 
head and covered her face with her hands, her shoulders jerking with muffled 
sobs. 

The Maquis leader thought for a few moments. "You can help us. Only I wonder 
if you've got the guts to get into the concentration camp at Choiseul, not 
as a pretty little whore some officer's taken a fancy to, but as one of the 
inmates. Do you understand that?" 

"I-I think so." Judith regarded him levelly, very pale now. 

"I wonder if you do. You'll be starved, beaten live in filth, and any guard 
who has a mind to can fuck you in the mud. To them it doesn't matter if you 
live or die. Do you understand what I'm saying?" 

She nodded. "I'll do it anyway." 

"Good! We know about Max Blenheim. One of the girls in the camp has a 
message from him- where he was going to hide the money. Money is important 
to us, too. It buys traitors, German and French. The Nazis won't kill you 
right away. Himmler and Vertmeyer are greedy swine and want to know where 
all that money is. So what you're going to do now is get yourself arrested. 
There's a German patrol due here," he glanced at his wrist watch, "in about 
ten minutes. Go up the way you came, and when you see them, scream and run 
just a little-not too fast, we don't want you shot, not yet anyway." 

"Thanks." Judith barely contained the terror welling up in her. 

"You're a cool one, Judith. And I do think you've got guts. I just hope you 
survive the hell of that camp. Claudine, get her upstairs and stand guard 
and see what happens." 

In a few moments Judith was in the dark entry of the little warehouse. She 
peeped outside the door and saw two privates in field-gray uniforms 
advancing, rifles on their shoulders. Taking a deep breath, she opened the 
door and hurried out with a frantic cry, "Oh no!" 

"Halten Sie, Fraulein!" one of the privates called, cocking and aiming his 
rifle. Judith turned, slowly raising her arms. "Don't shoot, oh please don't 
shoot, I don't want to die!" she groaned as the two men hurried up to her. 

"Well now, a little Fraulein dressed as a boy. Here's one for the camp, and 
I'll bet she's got the Star of David tattooed on her cute little arsch!" The 
man who spoke was thirty, a storm trooper who'd been in Austria and stormed 
the ghetto in Warsaw. 

"Let's see if she has, right now, Franz," the younger private leered. "I'll 
hold her, you take her pants off and find out." 

"Oh no-I want to give myself up-you haven't got any right to do this-oh God, 
not here in the alley where people can see-please-oh-you're hurting-stop 
it-oh my God!" Judith cries were not feigned. The lanky, towheaded, grinning 
private had laid his rifle on the cobblestones, knelt and, unbuckling the 
belt of Judith Arnheim's trousers, brutally yanked them down. 

"She's a fraulein, all right, Maxl. I can see her hairy little kootzele 
sticking right out in front of me. Now pull her down and I'll fuck her and 
get her ready for you." 

"No-please-oh God-help me, someone-oh don't-aaaaahhhh!!!! Judith shrieked, 
as the stockier German private, brutally wrenching her arms behind her flung 
her down on the cobblestones and, laying his rifle off to one side, gripped 
her wrists and knelt on her waist, crushing her agonizingly. Desperately, 
she kicked and twisted, but the trousers fettered her legs and by then the 
towheaded private, who had liberated his thick, purplish-veined prick, had 
flung himself between her legs, forcing them viciously apart with his dirty 
fingers. With a grunt, he thrust himself against her twitching pink cuntal 
lips and Judith's head rose, her eyes glassy and dilated, as she felt the 
brutal penetration into her already sensitized and just unvirgined cuntal 
sheath: "Ohh-oh God -it hurts me-stop it-I want to give myself up-" 

"Oh you can do that fine, you Jewish bitch, after we've fucked you! You 
won't be worth even stripping down after you've had a couple of weeks at the 
Arbeitslager. Gott, she's tight, Maxl, but I'll stretch her open for your 
Schwanz!" he panted as he pumped with jerky digs back and forth inside 
Judith's tortured cuntal sheath. 

Twisting her face from side to side, eyes huge and glazed with torment and 
shame, Judith at last forced herself to lie immobile, hoping to end the 
savage ordeal. But as he quickened his thrusts, mouthing hoarse obscenities, 
her face took on a horrified, stricken look. Oh now, it's not possible-not 
again! Oh he's hurting me, and I'm so sore there already-but I'm getting 
hot-oh, I can't my hips still, the filthy pig is h-having me here in the 
street under the open sky, and I'm starting to r-respond to him-oh what's 
become of me-am I really a whore, after all, when I fought to keep myself so 
chaste for Max? Oh God, if that isn't irony-the filthy Nazi who's holding me 
and sitting on me is named Maxl, and he's going to do it to me next-oooooh, 
he's cumming in me, he's flooding me, and oh my God, I'm arching myself as 
if I wanted him to do it more and more-oh, oh, what shame, what 
wretchedness! 

"There, I've oiled her kootzele up for you, Maxl. Now I'll hold her for 
you." The tall private pulled his limpened, stickied prick out of Judith's 
chafed, wet cuntal lips and stuffed it back into his pants, buttoning them 
up, then knelt down and seized her wrists, moving behind her head as the 
squat, older private rose and took his place in turn between her sprawled 
bare legs. He yanked the trousers completely off. "Maybe this Jewish bitch 
will get so hot she'll wrap those long sweet legs around my Arsch when she 
feels my Schwanz," he boasted. 

Judith uttered a stifled sob as she felt his longer, thicker prick probe 
easily inside her gripping cunt. "I don't mind a buttered bun at all, it's 
easier going," he chuckled to his companion as he began to gouge with long 
deep strokes back and forth inside her quaking cunthole. 

Judith dug the heels of her work shoes into the cobblestones, closed her 
eyes tightly to shut out the leering face of the towheaded private who was 
grinning down at her. She gasped at the ferocity of her second ravisher's 
violent lunges, and she tightened all her muscles in a desperate defense. 
And then again the treacherous betrayal of her own ardent young flesh came 
upon her, and with a sickened realization, she opened her eyes and sobbed 
aloud, "If I could only die-oh My God!" as the muscles of her thighs flexed 
and shivered as her breasts began to rise and fall agitatedly. 

"What do you know, our little Jewish whore likes it! Well, enjoy it while 
you can, because you'll lose all your good looks at Choiseul! There, do you 
think my Schwanz is better than Franz's? Hein? I'm going to shoot my juice 
till it comes out of your asshole, bitch-aaaahhggghhh-now, there, now you've 
got good Aryan spunk in that filthy little cunt of yours, it's a great 
honor, you ought to kiss our feet and thank us!" He thrust a last time, then 
sagged on her as his body heaved with a climax. Once again Judith felt the 
hot spattering of his male gush deep inside her cunthole, and her body 
arched and shuddered as her head turned to one side and long racking sobs 
escaped her. 

* * * 

The two privates had called for a patrol car. When it came, they Hung 
Judith, wearing only her socks and shoes, sweater, blouse and bra, into the 
back of it between them, driven to the grim five-story graystone building on 
the Rue de Montreuil which was now Gestapo headquarters. Since Hauptmann 
Vertmeyer had already driven to the concentration camp to make an 
inspection, she was questioned by a sardonic, scar-faced Oberleutnant. When 
no identity papers were found in either of sweater, blouse or her discarded 
trousers which the two privates had jokingly brought along, she insistently 
maintained, "My name is Julia Bentner. Yes, I-I'm Jewish. My-my parents are 
in hiding, but I thought-I thought if I gave myself up maybe I could save 
them." 

"Wirklich, fraulein?" the tall oberleutnant took off his right leather 
glove, dangled it a moment at his side, then slashed her across the mouth. 
"You're a filthy little Jewish liar, and you're going to Choiseul this very 
night. Our chief is kommandant and he'll be there enough of the time to see 
to it that you tell us everything we want to know. Leave her naked just the 
way she is, boys. Tie her wrists behind her, gag, her, stick her in the back 
of a motorcycle and have Feldwebel Muller drive her off right now. I want 
her to get a good night's sleep so she can start her first day bright and 
early tomorrow morning." He guffawed and gave Judith a parting slash across 
her proud round naked breasts with the heavy glove. Gasping and squirming, 
blood oozing from her swollen lips, she was uncermoniously gagged and bound, 
then shoved rudely up the stairs and out into the street where a group of 
lounging soldiers called lewd appraisals of her naked charms and predicted 
delicious moments for her at Choiseul. 

An hour and a half later, the stocky, nearly bald sergeant, gripping her by 
the scruff of the neck and making her stumble forward through the open iron 
gates of the concentration camp, Judith was shoved into the sparsely 
furnished office of the kommandant whose vacant chair was presently occupied 
by Oberleutnant Ludwig Volkman. He studied the brief dossier on the new 
prisoner which the sergeant had brought with him from headquarters, then 
snapped, "Take this filthy sow to lower Block Seven. Have her hosed down and 
deloused, give her bread and water for her supper, and have the block matron 
find a pretty dress for this dirty little Jewess that'll fit her." 

Keeping one hand at the scruff of her neck, the other gripping her bound 
wrists behind her back, the sergeant marched her out of the office and down 
a flight of narrow stairs to the subterranean level of the camp, where all 
new prisoners were incarcerated for the first week until "special" details 
and assignments were ordered for them. The newcomer block matron sat at a 
desk, with a huge key ring lying atop it, dressed in heavy cotton work 
blouse and long black skirt, lisle stockings and heavy shoes. Her name was 
Gerda Hartnauer from Alsace-Lorraine, forty-five years old, and she had 
worked in a women's prison in Strasbourg for ten years before the war. She 
was feared by all the women prisoners at Choiseul, and she used her heavy 
leather strap pitilessly. But what neither the Nazis nor Judith Arnheim knew 
was that she was secretly a French patriot and one of the several members of 
the underground Maquis at the camp. 

"Here's a new Jewish fish for you, Matron," the sergeant grinned as he 
shoved Judith forward. She stumbled, sank down to her knees, bowing her 
head, long sobs making her shoulders jerk. On her naked thighs, the dried 
patches of male cum were stickied and glistening. 

"Faugh, another mouth to fee! I'll take care of her myself, Sergeant. 
There's supper for you and some schnapps in the mess hall next to the Love 
Nest." This was the name for the brothel located to one side of the camp at 
Choiseul, where the most attractive and least politically dangerous of the 
female captives were quartered until they no longer appealed to the officers 
and enlisted men who had access to them. 

"Thanks, I'll be off then. Look after her. I wouldn't mind a piece of her 
myself, Fraulein Gerda." 

"You could have fucked her before you brought her here, if that's what you 
wanted. Too late now. All right, you bitch, get up on your feet and face me 
and tell me your name so that I can enter it in the records." 

Judith Arnheim had come full cycle. As she stood before the gray-haired, 
dowdy, fat woman, she closed her eyes and shuddered with shame, for it 
seemed to her that this was even more dehumanizing than what the soldiers 
had done to her. She kept repeating over and over in her mind what the 
leader of the Maquis had told her just before he had sent her out to give 
herself up: "There's Laure and Paulette, remember those names. Tell them 
we're going to help them escape, and try to survive. There are guards at the 
camp who like money better than killing people, you don't have to know who 
they are, and there's someone who supervises the prisoners who's on our side 
too. They'll find you when the time comes. But the most important thing, no 
matter how you have to do it, no matter how you have to crawl and whore 
yourself, is try to get yourself noticed by Vertmeyer himself. Then maybe 
you'll get your chance for vengeance-and rid France of a filthy degenerate 
killer." 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

In the basement section reserved for the unfortunate newcomers to the 
Choiseul Arbeitslager, there were fifty barred cells, narrow and squalid, 
each with only a slop bucket and a metal cot with lumpy mattress. A single 
naked large-watt electric-light bulb dangled from a ceiling fixture to cast 
an unearthly glow. As Judith Arnheim stood at the bars of her cell, she 
could only vaguely make out some of the bodies and faces on the other side. 
There were, indeed, only some twenty-two others besides herself who, after 
their first week, would be moved to the crowded blocks upstairs to be penned 
like caged animals, sometimes five or six or even seven to a cell, and 
there, apart from the the orders given them by their blockova, a female 
trusty who the Nazis gave leniency, which she earned by maintaining order in 
her section under the supervision of soldiers handpicked by the Gestapo for 
their ruthlessness and cruelty. 

The light in this basement section was kept on all night long. Judith 
Arnheim had had only fitful sleep after her arrival at the camp. Once the 
dowdy matron had entered her name on the records, she had been taken by two 
blockovas to a shed where a grinning private hosed her down with ice-cold 
water, taking special delight in playing the forceful stream against her 
jutting round breasts and her furry cunt. 

The regular matron in charge of the basement block had gone to her 
comfortable bed elsewhere in the building, and had been replaced by a thin, 
angular-faced woman in her fifties, Gretchen Pfeiffer, who, like Gerda 
Hartnaur, had been a matron in a German women's prison camp near Munich for 
some twenty years and was notorious for her vicious sadism, particularly 
towards attractive young women and girls. The only sweetheart she had ever 
had had forsaken her for a pretty sixteen-year-old, and Gretchen Pfeiffer 
had brooded over that most of her life. The Gestapo had seen in her an ideal 
supervisor for this living hell, even crueller in her way than many of the 
men. 

"I see you're awake early, Number Seven," she cackled as her beady eyes made 
out the figure of Judith Arnheim holding onto the bars of her cell. "Well, 
not a bad idea at that. Right after breakfast at six-thirty, all of you new 
fish and the old timers too, for that matter, are going to see a little 
entertainment, a show put on especially to teach you what can happen if you 
don't mind the rules and act up like the filthy worms and scum you really 
are." 

Judith did not answer, but went back to her cot and wearily stretched 
herself out on it. All too soon there was the sound of shrill whistles, and 
Gretchen Pfeiffer snapped, "Stand up, all of you filthy sows, inspection and 
breakfast!" 

Then she turned with a fawning smile to a burly feldwebel and four privates 
behind him. "I'll turn our pretty birds out for you, directly. Where's that 
blockova Elizabeta with their swill?" 

"Here I am, bitte, Fraulein Matron!" A tall, still handsome Czech woman of 
about thirty-two, wearing the same shapeless gray dress as all the 
prisoners, but with a whistle tied to her neck to designate her rank, 
hastened forward, wheeling a cart on which clay bowls of cold gruel were 
arrayed. 

"And about time, too, I don't want to miss the show in the arena, hein, 
Klaus?" the matron winked. Taking her keyes, she went to each cell and 
opened it, sharply ordering the occupant out, till all twenty-three 
prisoners stood in ranks of five with the last three at the very back, arms 
at their sides, awaiting orders. The lugers were trained on them, as the 
sergeant snappen, "Each of you, forward and turn, take your bowl, swill it 
down, put it back on the cart, and then you'll be marched out to the special 
compound!" 

Judith glanced around at her companions. There were gray-haired women, their 
faces haggard and bruised, young girls whose eyes were red and swollen, 
sturdy young Polish and Hungarian women in their early thirties who still 
showed a sullen defiance; and there were other teenaged, even more 
attractive girls whom she commiseratingly recognized as being of her own 
faith. For most of these, the week of "solitary" was up and they would be 
moved upstairs to the dreadful regimen of a camp: for Judith herself, six 
more days of "meditation" remained. 

Watching the example of the other prisoners who were ahead of her, she came 
up docilely, took her bowl and tilted it to her mouth and swallowed down the 
tepid, unpalatable mess. Sergeant Klaus Holzwirth reached out and squeezed 
one of her titties through the thin dress which was her only covering. "Not 
bad, not bad at all. Maybe, if you're a very good girl, bitch, I'll visit 
you some evening when I'm off duty. I bet you'd like that." 

Judith nearly dropped the bowl and gasped as his pudgy fingers clenched on 
the shuddering globe of her tit, but with a supreme effort she restrained 
the effort to strike out at him. It would, she knew have fatal consequences 
for her ... worse than fatal. 

The breakfast done with, the prisoners, flanked by two armed privates on 
each side and with the blockova leading them, the sergeant at the rear with 
his own drawn gun at the ready, were marched upstairs and out of the 
building to the north side of the camp. There they saw a huge rectangular 
enclosure fenced in by barbed wire twelve feet high, with a gate at each 
end. The warm August sun was already rising and the humidity of the day was 
predictable. Judith clapped her hand to her mouth to stifle the cry of 
horror that rose to her throat. In the middle of the compound, there were 
two heavy wooden blocks, one in front of the other. Kneeling over each and 
facing each other, were two naked females, their knees fixed in heavy 
leather cuffs that were set with iron rings into the block, their elbows 
hugging the sides of each block and similarly cuffed. Judith could see from 
the bottom directly turned to her that its owner was a mature woman, still 
extremely handsome, possibly in her mid-thirties. Even as she watched, the 
other victim lifted her face, and Judith bit her lips with agonized 
compassion: It was a sandy-haired girl no more than fourteen or fifteen, 
slim, with dainty, cameo-like features and long tumbling hair that fell to 
one side of her tear stained, contorted face. "Ohh, Mama, what are they 
going to do? Oh, I'm afraid, Mama!" she wailed hysterically in a childlike 
voice. 

Agonized, Judith turned her face away from the horror before her, and she 
saw that the other female prisoners of the camp had been lined up all along 
the sides of the fence, vigilantly guarded by armed soldiers. Glancing 
upwards, she saw a tower elevated high above the compound, in which a 
corporal armed with a submachine gun was intently watching. 

Sergeant Klaus Holwirth, standing near her, sniggered and muttered, "Don't 
get any notions about trying to make a run for it, you sweet piece of Jewish 
Arsch! When they brought you here, you probably saw the wire fences all 
around the entire camp, that goes for the 'Love Nest', too. It's 
electrified, so you wouldn't get far. Besides, you're fresh and new, and 
you're much to nice to fry right away." 

"I-I won't try it," Judith muttered dully. 

"That's a smart bitch. I suppose you're wondering what's going to happen? 
Well, that's a Czech mother and her daughter who we think worked with the 
Maquis, though we can't be sure yet. Anyway, when they brought them in a 
couple of days ago, the mother said she'd rather die than have us filthy 
dogs touch her daughter. So the kommandant-you'll meet him in a few days, 
liebchen-decided that the two bitches should be mated with good German dogs, 
and that's what is going to happen now." 

"Oh God in heaven!" Judith murmured to herself. 

At the other side of the compound, a corporal was opening the gate behind 
him, holding them back on leash as they growled and whined im-impatiently, 
were two privates with two young black Dobermans. The sergeant came forward, 
holding a piece of meat in each of his gloved hands. Approaching the young 
girl first, whose bottom was towards him, he squatted down and forced the 
bit of meat into her gaping soft pink cunt. 

"Oh, Mama, what are they going to do? Oh, he's touching me there-oh make him 
stop, please oh please, Mama!" she squealed piteously, jerking and twisting 
her hips violently as she tried to displace the obscenely placed meat. 

The sergeant patted her satiny oval cheeked naked bottom, his hand lingering 
on it for a moment, then strolled over to the mother and did the same to 
her. The woman stiffened, raised her face to the sky, and began to pray 
aloud in Czech. 

At Judith's side, the blockova Elizaveta whispered, "She's praying to God to 
avenge our people-ssh, don't say a word, the Oberleutnant is coming now to 
watch this! Anyone who turns away or speaks a word against it will be 
severely punished, a warning!" 

Shuddering, Judith watched the gaunt Oberleutnant, his boots gleaming under 
the rays of the already hot sun, stride into the compound, a riding crop 
tucked under his arm. He grinned wolfishly. "Prisoners," he exclaimed, "you 
are here to watch how we punish insubordination and insolence against the 
Third Reich. That's a start. Then, tomorrow, you'll see an execution at 
dawn. For those of you who are our guests for the very first week, listen to 
your matron and the guards, keep your mouths shut and watch now so you won't 
find yourselves out here." Then, turning to the two privates who had 
difficulty restraining the whining dogs, he lifted his riding crop and swept 
it down through the air. 

Instantly the leashes were unhooked and the dogs bounded forward. As if by 
human instinct, each seemed to choose a victim at once; the younger and more 
savage-looking dog planted himself behind the weeping, pleading your girl, 
his black muzzle prodding the cheeks of her shuddering bottom and then 
nosing at the meat in that exquisite virgin receptacle. She screamed 
frenziedly as she felt it pry out the tidbit and then gulp it down, and even 
more agonizedly as it whined, sniffed at her cunt, and then suddenly reared 
on its hind legs and lunged forward, its claws raking her slip 
pale-pinksheened back as it thrust its obscene, long red bony prick against 
her virgin cunt. 

The heavier Doberman had chosen the mother, and it too nuzzled at the meat, 
seemingly taking more time to prolong the woman's unspeakable ordeal. Judith 
closed her eyes and dug her nails into her sweating palms, her thighs 
shaking, threatening to give way beneath her. 

At last the second dog reared itself and planted its front paws on the 
broader, white shuddering back of the mother who uttered a strangled yell of 
shame and fright. Frenziedly she began to jerk her tethered knees and 
elbows, but in vain. The dog tenaciously raked her back to the blood with 
its sharp claws as she screamed in real agony, then jabbed its equally long, 
lewdly red bone-like prick into her gaping cunt. Both dogs now pumped 
ferociously and furiously, and the shrieks and babbled, incoherent cries of 
the young girl rang out against the death-like silence which the watching 
prisoners fearfully observed. 

Yet Judith Arnheim, despite of the barbarity of that scene, found herself 
staring as if hypnotically compelled. Her eyes wide and humid, her exquisite 
face flushed, her lips parted and trembling and moist, she saw the rapid 
thrusts of that bony canine prick stab in and out between the fettered, 
crouching young girl's straining thighs, and a twitching, warm sensation 
stirred in her own cuntal lips. Ohhh, it's hideous and yet I can't take my 
eyes away-imagine, a d-dog doing that to a girl-it must have been specially 
trained to-to be just like a man-ohhh, I-I wonder how different it is from 
what-from what Pierre did to me in the basement-I wonder how I would feel 
right now if I were strapped down there for everyone to watch with that huge 
animal shoving himself into my-my s-sex? 

She swayed. Glancing down at herself, Judith found that she had put a hand 
to the crotch of her coarse uniform and was rubbing it. She stifled a gasp 
of deepest shame, dropped her hand away, and forced herself to look back to 
the punishment blocks. 

At least the young girl's screams died away and she sagged over the blocks 
the Doberman at last disengaged itself with a shrill yelp and trotted back 
to the leering privates. But the other dog seemed tireless, and the mother's 
screeching plaints and frenzied struggles redoubled as it rapidly and 
jerkily pierced and lacerated her cunt till at last it achieved its gushing 
cum. A shrill whistle from the sergeant reluctantly brought the animal to 
heel, and as it trotted back to him, its tongue lolling out, drops of blood 
stained the ground as they were flicked off by its still visibly elongated 
prick. 

As in a daze, Judith, hearing the muffled sobs and groans of the other 
unwilling witnesses, looked around her, estimating there must be at least 
six hundred prisoners in this camp. She was not far wrong. In the "Love 
Nest" on the other side of the camp, another hundred of the most attractive 
younger women and girls were presently quartered, some of them "graduates" 
of the camp, others destined for the soldiers' brothels near the front lines 
in other sectors of Nazi-occupied territory, and still others to be executed 
as soon as their ravishers tired of them. 

The Oberleutnant sauntered up to the two blocks over which the naked victims 
sprawled, the mother too at last having fainted. He spat at them 
contemptuously, raised his riding crop and slashed each of them across the 
bottom with all his strength, leaving a bleeding weal. Then he turned to 
address the prisoners: "Back to your cells now and your work. Don't concern 
yourselves about these bitches, they're to be handed over to the guards for 
nightly sport. With luck, they may last a week. Dismiss!" 

Shrill whistles piped all round the compound now as the guards and the 
blockovas reassembled the trembling, shaken prisoners and marched them back 
to their cells. 

The contingent of twenty-three "recruits" was on its way to the basement 
cells when Sergeant Klaus Holzwirth seized Judith by the fleshy part of her 
right arm and pulled her back out of line. "In here, bitch, and keep your 
mouth shut," he muttered, his voice thick with lust. 

"I-I don't understand-" 

"Verdammte Jude, didn't I tell you to be quiet? Get in there!" he snarled as 
he shoved her against the door of a supply closet. It opened, and Judith 
sprawled ignominiously on her belly on the floor. 

Slamming the door to, the sergeant unbuttoned his trousers and drew out his 
short but thick, swollen prick. "Pull your dress up to your Butzen, you 
Jewish sow, and be quick about it!" he growled. With his other hand, he 
groped for the Luger which he had shoved back into its holster at his hip. 

Her face scarlet, her eyes huge, Judith Arnheim hastened to obey, tugging up 
the coarse scratchy cotton skirt to her panting breasts. 

"Spread your legs more than that. No, stick knees up in the air and shove 
them as far apart as you can get them, schnell!" he ordered. 

She did so, closing her eyes, aware that the twitching pink lips of her cunt 
were lasciviously gaped in invitation. 

Keep them that way till I finish fucking you verstehe?" he growled as he 
knelt down and flung himself over her, his hands squeezing her titties 
mercilessly till she cried out in pain. For a moment, he playfully rubbed 
the broad glans of his prick against the inner edges of her upturned 
buttocks. "Ever had it in the ass before? You needn't bother telling me, 
I'll find out for myself. Right now, though, I feel like putting my Schwanz 
right where it belongs. You've got nice legs, good firm round legs that can 
clamp around a man. I'll tell you when to do it, too, and you'd better. 
Wriggle your Arsch a little, pretend you want it. And smile at me. I'm doing 
you a favor. You could have had Private Burger, he loves to have a girl suck 
him first and make it hard for her backend opening, that's his specialty. 
You'll probably meet him when you get transferred upstairs, liebchen." 

Paralyzed with shame and loathing, yet aware that she had no other choice, 
Judith Arnheim awkwardly began to twist her hips this way and that on the 
hard floor. Above her loomed a dingy calcimined ceiling, and on each side 
there were shelves on which cans of disinfectant, buckets and other 
paraphernalia used in cleaning the cells were stored. She forced a smile to 
her trembling lips, as he stared down greedily at her, his fingers 
tightening on the rounds of her shuddering titties till she winced with 
pain. "Like to have your tits played with first before you fuck, bitch? How 
did you do it with your Jewish lover? Did he take his time, what position 
did he like best with you? Now me, if I had you in my little flat back in 
Berlin where I was before they sent me here, I'd have you stand at the edge 
of the bed and bend straight down and grab the covers, with your legs as far 
apart as you could get them. Then I'd tickle your hairy kootzele a little to 
make you hot and wet for it, and then I'd come around the other side of the 
bed, get on there and twist your hair and make you lick my Schwanz a little 
more and beg me for it. Maybe I'd give you a good spanking then just to get 
you nice and wriggly for your fuck. But I've got other duties this morning, 
so here we go. Keep smiling, and I'll tell you when to wind those Jewish 
legs of yours over me!" 

With this, he thrust himself against the quivering, gaping entry to her 
cuntal sheath, and Judith's lips twisted in a forced smile as she felt the 
chafing dig, the frictioning rub of his broad prick. With a single lunge, he 
impaled her to the balls, lying over her and crushing her back down onto the 
floor, her knees still up and obscenely spread, his fingers gouging her 
breasts till she moaned in pain. 

"Yes, you like it, don't you? Wonder how long it's been since your boyfriend 
gave it to you last time? Was his prick longer than mine? How long could he 
go before he shot it off? I'll bet with a tight little slit like yours he 
lost it pretty fast, didn't he? Come on now, you can put your arms around my 
neck now, never mind the skirt, I'm into you-or don't you feel it yet?" 

"Y-yes-I-I feel it," Judith panted, her teeth chattering as she tilted back 
her head and reached for her ravisher's stout neck with her trembling arms. 

He drew back, held himself a moment at the brink of her quivering cunt, then 
lunged savagely forward to the balls again. "Aaaah-oh please-not so h-hard, 
I-I'm s-sore there," she whimpered. 

"That's just fine, that proves you're new and maybe that boyfriend of yours 
didn't get into your pants as often as I thought. All the better for me, 
then, isn't that right? Answer me, you stubborn little Jewish bitch!" 

"Yes-it's better for you-ooooh-please- please, t-take it easy-I-I'll do what 
you want- you don't have to-" 

"I don't have to what? Where do you think you are, in your own bedroom, you 
Jewish filth? Another remark like that and I'll tell the kommandant to have 
you stripped and stretched on the triangle on a nice hot afternoon and given 
fifty with the Peitsche on the front of you-know what that means? Over the 
tits and the cunt, that's plain enough. I'll fuck you just the way I want, 
and you'll like it or you'll get a lot worse, and that's a friendly warning 
because I'm feeling pretty good this morning. If I weren't, you could kiss 
your kootzele goodbye forever! Now you can put your legs around me, hold on 
tight, I think I'm going to go off any minute now-Donnerwetter, you're 
really tight down there, just the kind of Jewish cunt I like!" 

Hoarsely demeaning her with every word, the leering, burly sergeant thrust 
back and forth with accelerated gait, making Judith wince and gasp at the 
savage friction that chafed her already roughly used young cunt. Obediently, 
out of self-preservation, as she hugged his neck, she clamped her bare legs 
round his buttocks, closing her eyes and submitting herself. 

But his brutal shoving back and forth into her chafed, sensitized cunt, the 
scuffing of her naked olive-satiny bottom against the harsh floor of the 
closet, combined with the violently carnal scene she had just witnessed, and 
her eyes glazed, widening, her nostrils dilating, as her arms convulsively 
began to hug him to her as if he were her plighted lover. Oh-God-what's 
happening to me-he's cruder, harsher to me than Pierre-but all the horribly 
filthy things he said before he t-took me, made me shiver and get 
excited-yes, just as if dear Max were courting me alone in our living room 
before all this madness began. Ohh-my flesh is thrilling to this Nazi pig's 
usage of me. I can still see how those vicious dogs raped that poor woman 
and her child-that long blood-red organ, thrusting so fast inside her 
tenderest parts-ughh-he's going at me just as fast. Ohhh, my v-vaginal walls 
are being stretched, I can feel them giving way-it-it rasps, it rubs and 
tickles-ouuu-I'm shameless. It's as if I knew I was a slave in the olden 
days and a cruel, merciless nobleman had had me kidnapped from my parents' 
home and was forcing me. Oh, my n-nipples are getting so hard-when those 
soldiers r-raped me in the street outside the Maquis hiding place, I began 
to feel just like this-ouuu-his fingers are digging so hard into my 
b-breasts-he's making me his whore, his thing-he doesn't care for my 
feelings at all. I'm just a dirty Jewish whore to him-Hi's-his penis and my 
vagina, that's all that counts for him-why is it I can feel myself arching 
up my hips every time he d-digs into me so hard, so d-deeply? Ahhh, I-I'm 
smiling at the pig, the Nazi butcher of God knows how many decent, innocent 
women and children. God knows how many times he-he's raped girls just like 
me, who never before thought it would happen-thought they would wait and 
dream about making love in the marriage bed-ouuu-the muscles of my legs are 
stiff and sore from clutching round him-ahhhh-he's grunting just like a pig, 
wallowing in my f-flesh. Max, I'm soiled, used, I can't come to you a virgin 
-pray God you'll understand-but what's worst of all is that I'm getting 
excited, just like a young pro-prostitute who gets aroused by an 
exceptionally v-virile c-customer. Ouahhhh-I can hear myself groaning and 
sobbing like-like a b-bitch in heat- 

Her legs crossed and uncrossed over him, squirming and writhing as he 
quickened his furious thrusts into her weakened, seething cunt, drawing her 
pitilessly, beyond all her control and chase resolve, towards sheer animal 
lust. Then, with a sudden bellow, he shot his bubbling, viscous cum deep 
into her quaking, twitching cuntal sheath. Judith uttered a strident cry, 
her face restlessly turning from side to side, contorted, damp with sweat 
and tears, in her agony of soul as well as the inexorable torment-bliss 
which his violent cum had wrested from her palpitating woman-flesh. 

He pulled himself out immediately, uttering a sigh of pleasure. "Well now, 
that wasn't too bad for a new cunt, a dirty Jewish cunt at that. Keep it up 
and you might live a few days more. Just watch out for Private Burger. Now 
then, stand up, pull your skirt down, you dirty little whore, and get back 
to your cell if you know what's good for you. One more warning since I'm in 
an exceptionally good mood now, don't go back there whining to the blockova 
and least of all to the Matron about the fun we had just now. You'll have 
the sorest Arsch in Choiseul if you do, and that's a promise." 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

For lunch that first unbelievable day in the concentration camp, there was 
potato soup ladled out into a bowl by the coarsely handsome blockova 
Elizaveta and handed to Judith through the wide bars of her solitary cell. 
For supper, more of the same but with a piece of grayish-looking bread which 
tasted more like paste, since it was mainly gluten and other substances: the 
fine white and rye bread of Germany went to the flower of its soldiery in 
the field that they might fulfill Hitler's prophecy, "Heute Deutschland, 
Morgen Die Welt!" 

But at dawn on Friday, which would mark her second full day at Choiseul, 
Judith perceived how even a trusty could be degraded and made to wallow in 
the knowledge that she too was little more than a caged animal, subject to 
the most capricious and sadistic whims of her jailers. Lean, grayhaired 
Gretchen Pfeiffer was matron at the desk as before, and as Judith stood at 
the bars and drearily awaited the beginning of another endless, horrifying 
day, she noted that the woman glanced vexedly at her wrist watch and then 
out toward the wide entrance through which the guards and the blockovas 
would come. Finally the four armed privates appeared and with them Sergeant 
Holzwirth, at which Gretchen rose from her chair and shrilly demanded, "What 
kept you so long, Elizaveta? You're ten minutes late, you know, and all 
prisoners must be out within half an hour to attend punishment!" 

"I-I couldn't help it, Matron," the sturdy Czech woman began to stammer, her 
face paling and twisting with anxiety. "In my block, one of the women was 
dying-" 

"That's no excuse! I'm going to have you punished, it'll be a fine lesson 
for our new fish! Sergeant, this time we'll dispense with having the bitches 
our here on parade to pick up their breakfast. You and your men can ladle 
out the gruel and the bread through the bars, while I give this lazy bitch a 
little lesson in keeping her place here at Choiseul! On your knees before 
me, quickly!" 

As Judith watched with widened, incredulous eyes, she saw the Czech woman 
begin to blubber like a child, as she slowly sank down on her knees before 
the desk and, without even another word from the matron, began to tug up her 
coarse gray dress to expose plentiful haunches, heavy round buttocks still 
admirably contoured and firm despite her months in this living hell. Then, 
with a whimper of anguish, both her trembling hands keeping her skirt 
tightly clutched and rolled up nearly to her bosom to bare her sturdy 
tawny-sheened back, she bowed her forehead to the cold floor. The matron 
opened the top drawer of her desk and took out a thick broad leather strap, 
about two feet long, with a doubly thick piece at the end to serve as 
handle. Gripping this, she crossed round to plant herself behind Elizaveta 
at the latter's left, and, raising the strap, brought it down with a 
resounding Crack over the tops of the woman's hips. A strangled yelp of pain 
tore from the victim, her hips swerved violently this way and that, but she 
only seemed to cringe in her abject pose and press her forehead down even 
more tightly against the floor as she kept her bottom and hips elevated for 
the thrashing. 

Meanwhile, not without glancing back and gawking at the amusing sight, the 
sergeant and his four aides began to serve the prisoners their meager 
breakfast. Throughout it all, the agonized cries and finally pitiful shrieks 
for mercy reverberated in the subterranean cell block as Gretchen flailed 
the twisting, raising and lowering, madly plunging and lividly striped 
bottom before her till at last, out of breath, she flung the strap aside and 
snarled, "Sergeant, which of you men needs servicing most this morning?" 

"Why, now, Liebling, I'd say it was Private Mulhaupt, he's only here a month 
and lagging behind the other Knaben!" The burly noncommissioned officer 
sniggered. Judith Arnheim shuddered and her fingers twisted at the bars of 
her cell as she stared at the man who had violated her on her way back from 
the punishment of the Czech mother and daughter the morning before. He 
glanced over toward her and chuckled, recognizing his beautiful victim: 
"Guten morgen, Judischer dime! Sorry I haven't time for you again this 
morning, but that's life for you. All right, Mulhaupt, get on with it. Have 
her anywhere you like, but be quick, we're due out there in ten minutes!" 

A lanky, pimply-faced private in his mid-twenties, already eagerly 
unbuttoning the fly of his trousers, hurried forward to where the Czech 
blockova still crouched, her cruelly welted naked bottom still twisting and 
wriggling uncontrollably while her shoulders shook with desperate sobs. 
Looking back at his superior, he respectfully inquired, "Would it be all 
right, Herr Felbwebel, if I buggered the bitch?" 

"Damn it, Mulhaupt, I told you you could take her where you wanted, but make 
an end of it, you dummer Esel!" 

The soldier beamed with pleasure as he hastily knelt down behind the 
sobbing, half-nude woman and then greedily, digging his sinewy fingers into 
the swollen, striped buttocks, roughly jerked them apart to expose a plump, 
shrinking pink butthole. The blockova uttered a wild scream, "Ach, nein, 
bitte, not there, oh, please, I'll be good, but please not there, it hurts 
so, and I-I'm constipated the last few days-oh no-aahhhrrgghh, oh, bitte, 
nichts!" Her voice rose to a strident cry of intolerable suffering as the 
grinning private thrust his long, turgid prick against the shrinking orifice 
and, digging his fingernails into the swollen bottom-globes to force her to 
comply, viciously pried the anal lips apart and lunged ferociously, almost 
to the very hilt. 

Elizaveta lifted her ravaged, tear soaked face, her mouth twisted, her eyes 
mad with suffering. The matron lifted the strap and moved in front of her, 
snarling, "Stay still, you stupid bitch, or you'll get another dose of this 
when he's finished with you!" 

Judith turned her face away and closed her eyes, shuddering violently. Oh, 
God of Moses, is there no end to their inhumanity? I did not even dream it 
would be like this, when I volunteered to help the Maquis and avenge my 
parents. Why, these brutes are worse than the animals in the jungle, and 
they'd as soon kill as rape! How can I survive and accomplish my mission 
with all that's happened to me already and with all I see and with all there 
will be here? Oh merciful God, give me the strength and courage, I'm only a 
weak woman, and already, if Max knew what they've done to me, he'd never 
want to marry me, I'm soiled and dirtied! 

A grumbling oath from the sergeant hastened private's vicious buggering of 
the almost fainting blockova. With a final jerky series of in and out 
thrustings, he drenched her bowels with his copious cum, and then pulled 
out, panting with excitement. Then, as if wanting to redeem himself in the 
eyes of his superior and the other privates, he stooped down, seized the 
blockova's long tumbled dark-brown hair in both hands and rubbed it 
vigorously over his prick to cleanse it. 

"That's the way to teach these whores to respect their betters, Mulhaupt," 
the sergeant laughingly approved. "All right now, stick your Schwanz back in 
your pants and let's march these sluts out to watch the punishment!" 

But even as Judith prayed for courage, even as her mind was shaken by the 
vicious and unjust brutality meted out to the handsome blockova, her eyes, 
as if compelled by some secret inner force, shifted covertly back to 
Elizaveta who remained crouching on all fours, sobbing hoarsely, her soiled 
hair tumbling over one tear stained cheek, still dazed and agonized from her 
flogging and buggering. Fascinated, Judith's widened eyes fixed on the 
lividly welted, twitching bare buttocks, and the beautiful raven-haired 
young woman clenched her thighs together. She had just felt the treacherous, 
warm, molten churning of her cunt. Ohh-I can't help thinking such thoughts, 
but- but it reminds me of what Pierre did to me in the basement-how-how he 
spanked me with his belt, and when my b-bottom was so terribly hot, he-he 
raped me-I-I can see myself in Elizaveta's place right now, my bare flesh 
streaked and burning from the strap. Oh, how her thighs are still 
shaking-did she have any pl-pleasure from what was done to her, I wonder? 
Poor woman, in a way I hope she had. It's all that would make it bearable in 
this hell-ohhh, how my whole mind and soul are changing, just from the short 
time I've been here! What's happening to me-is it because I'm Jewish and the 
fate of a Jewish woman almost from the beginning of time is to be in some 
kind of bondage and servitude to a master? My-my thighs are quivering too, 
just like Elizaveta's right now ... oh, I'm so hot between my legs, I-I 
shall die of shame at myself! 

Judith swayed and closed her eyes as the still sobbing blockova at last 
stumbled to her feet, smoothing down her coarse uniform, and took her place 
in line. A few minutes later, all the prisoners were herded out to the 
compound, ordered to stand with arms tightly at their sides in front of the 
barbed wire to watch a hanging. 

For this time, instead of the blocks in the center where the trained 
Dobermans had martyrized a mother and her daughter, there was a collapsible 
wooden gallows assembled, with a wide stool about three feet high onto which 
the condemned prisoner would mount instead of being hurtled down through a 
trapdoor. A band was playing martial music as the Oberleutnant entered the 
compound from the farther gate, followed by four armed privates who formed a 
vigilant square around a stumbling, sobbing, stocky blonde Polish woman in 
her early thirties. Her wrists were strapped tightly behind her back, her 
long dissheveled hair tumbling over her tear stained face down to her waist. 

Arrived at the gallows, the Oberleutnant turned and barked an order. Two of 
the privates held their rifles at the ready. The other two, laying down 
theirs, dragged the wildly pleading, sobbing woman to the stool and lifted 
her up onto it. One of them mounted a tall ladder set upright beside the 
stool, took the heavy hemp noose and fitted it around her neck. Then, after 
adjusting the slack through a hinged pulley set in the underside of the 
gallows beam, he descended the ladder, only to shift it so that it stood 
directly in front of the agonized victim. Now, with a grin at his fellows 
and a smart salute to the attentive Oberleutnant, he reached back to hold 
the sides of the ladder as he carefully ascended it to face the blonde 
Polish woman. 

Oh God-he-he's opening his p-pants-and- and taking out his penis! But I 
thought she was going to be hanged-ugh-how big and red it is, and she sees 
it and her face has turned red and her eyes are very wide and they're 
staring at it. Oh, the poor thing, what horrible torture is she going to 
suffer before they hang her? Judith thought, as once again the seething, 
churning tides of her wakened womanhood began to gather in the twitching, 
sensitive sheath of her ardent young cunt. Despite her revulsion at watching 
the execution of an innocent prisoner, she could not turn her gaze from that 
grim gallows nor the trembling blonde on the stool ... nor the turgid, 
purplish-headed tip of the private's obscenely rigid prick. 

The other private, winking at his privileged crony, now reached up, his eyes 
devouring the shuddering, half-fainting woman as a sudden gust of wind 
tightened the coarse cotton dress round her spacious ass and ripe, somewhat 
pendulous tits; then, seizing the hem of her dress, he tugged at it with all 
his might. A wild shriek rang out as the victim swayed perilously, but the 
private on the ladder reached out to grab her by the hips and steady her as, 
with another energetic tug, his comrade stripped her naked. Her eyes wildly 
rolling, incoherent prayers tumbling from her panting lips, the blonde 
prisoner shuddered, glanced up at the taut rope, then down at the throbbing 
prick of the man who held her. He muttered something to her, with a 
viciously mocking, obscene laugh, and her cheeks flamed and she closed her 
eyes, biting her trembling lips in a pitiful attempt to muster courage for 
what awaited her. 

Judith trembled, staring at that white skinned body, still so attractive. 
She could see the marks of livid welts on her belly, inner thighs and tits, 
as well as the upper arms and rounded, plump shoulders. Then she put one 
hand to her mouth to stifle the cry of anguished compassion as she saw the 
private who had torn off the prisoner's dress stoop to pick up a long, thin 
birch switch, covered profusely with green buds and twigs, and swish it in 
the air as he placed himself behind the stool. 

The music stopped. The oberleutnant pompously declared, an expression of 
sneering contempt on his cruel, lean face: "Prisoners and enemies of the 
Third Reich, you are about to witness the punishment for rebellion against 
one of your superiors. This condemned creature, Marta Dobrinsky, a member of 
the inferior Polish species, did strike an officer when he was in the 
performance of his duties, and for such insurrection has been condemned to 
the supreme penalty. You may proceed, Private Galtung!" 

The soldier brandishing the switch saluted, stepped back, then flourished it 
a few times in the air. From the band, there now came the continuous rattle 
of drums, the sinister music of execution. Drawing back his right arm 
slowly, his eyes leaving the pale white nakedness of the trembling, 
whimpering victim, he cut the switch wickedly across the backs of her plump 
thighs. She uttered a piercing scream, arched and squirmed, but by some 
miracle, managed to retain her balance, trying pitifully to twist her face 
back to implore mercy from her executioner. The muscles of her back and 
shoulders stood out against her prison-pale sweating skin on which the hot 
August sun remorselessly blazed. 

A second slash of the switch danced diagonally over the opulent round 
asscheeks, and once again her naked body shook and twisted, but once again 
remained tremblingly erect; a low, whining cry was torn from her, and tears 
had begun to flow down her pale, haggard cheeks. Now she stared with frantic 
anguish at the leering private who faced her, his back to the ladder, his 
left hand fondling his turgid prick, muttering to her in a voice that could 
not be overheard. The woman's thighs were shaking and jerking, her muscles 
spasming along those shuddering white columns. 

Now, lowering the whip, the man behind her deftly snapped it up right 
between her buttocks, into the broadening groove at their base, and Judith 
saw the twiggy tip whisk up into her pink cuntal lips. Trembling violently, 
the raven-haired volunteer for the Maquis unconsciously pressed both palms 
against her cunt, forcing the coarse material of her prison smock against 
the twitching, moistening lips. Ohh-I'm tainted by all this lust, this 
sickening cruelty and murder-how else can I explain being-being ex-excited 
by seeing that poor woman's agony? Ohhh, how shrill and agonized her scream 
was just then-she tottered off the stool, but than man on the ladder held 
her by the hips-ohh, now he's rubbing his penis against her p-pussy-she's 
saying something to him, and he's laughing at her-ohhh God-now-now he's 
sticking himself into her! She's trying to throw herself off the stool, but 
he's holding her tight. Ohhhh, my p-pussy's getting hot-oh Judith, Judith, 
you shameless bitch, you're no better than those frightful men who lust like 
dogs in heat for all of us here. My hands-my hands are rubbing myself, like 
a naughty little girl who wants to play with herself because she's seen or 
read something that makes her think about s-sex. Ooooohhhh, that man's 
whipping the poor woman over her calves and bottom-and her back, and she's 
fighting to die, I can see that, but the other man won't let her. Now he's 
buried all of his penis inside of her, his hands are squeezing her breasts 
... oh God-now the other man just cut the switch up between her buttocks-and 
now the man holding her has kicked the stool out from under her-uggghhh-why 
can't I close my eyes, why? I can hear her gurgling-see her face contort, 
her eyes bulge-ugh-that animal-he-he's coupling with her as if she were 
still alive, holding onto her as she sways back and forth. I want them to be 
struck down by lightning. Oh God, why are my hands rubbing myself so between 
my legs, why am I getting so shameless, so excited-and I-I'm wet-ouuu-you 
bitch you, Judith Arnheim- you're in hell and you're starting to live it. 
You ought to be whipped and raped. Yes-yes-I want to be punished for being 
such a slut as to actually enjoy the suffering, the death of others. God 
forgive me, for I can't forgive myself! 

She dug her fingernails into her thighs, trying to wrench her morbidly 
sensual thoughts out through sheer pain, but she could not. Eyes 
unwaveringly fixed on the swaying naked body of the dead woman, she watched 
the soldier, his hands gripping her hips, thrust back and forth till with a 
bellow of joyous rut he shot his cum into her cunt. Then, with a coarse 
laugh, he drew himself out of her and let himself slip to the ground. 

Judith Arnheim drew shuddering breath on breath, closing her eyes as she 
felt the lips of her cunt stickied with the essences of her vicarious cum. 
Stealthily, she rubbed one thigh against the other, hoping that no telltale 
moist spot would show at the crotch of her coarse prison garment. For she 
knew that, just as the Star of David sewn in yellow thread on the left 
sleeve of that garment marked her for sullying, even torture and death, so 
that betraying patch of wetness would signify to any discerning, lustful 
Nazi soldier that she who had once been such a proud virgin was now as 
involuntarily wanton as the lowliest whore. Even as she thought, she heard 
the Oberleutnant exclaim, "Prisoners, profit from what you have just seen. 
Now, dismissed to your cells!" 

* * * 

By late afternoon of that same Friday, Judith found herself virtually alone 
in the basement cell-block, her other companions having served their first 
obligatory week in solitary and consequently having been taken upstairs and 
assigned to various blocks in the general prison section. 

The fat matron amused herself by reading, maintaining a total silence. Thus 
alone and with full time to recall all the shameful degradations which she 
herself had experienced and the physical horrors she had witnessed, the 
beautiful brunette's impressionable mind was even more haunted by fears of 
the future. About four-thirty in the afternoon, Gerda Hartnaur laid down her 
book and walked casually down the rows of cells to make a final report which 
she would then turn over to her successor Gretchen Pfeiffer, the night 
matron. As she paused before Judith's cell, she stared coldly at the 
trembling young woman who had gone to lie down on her cot. Then she said 
very softly, and in French, "Maintenant tu nest pas si fiere comme laigle, 
petite. Now you're not quite so proud as an eagle, are you, little one?" 

Judith Arnheim started and raised herself on her elbows, but already the 
matron was walking on to make certain that the other cells were empty as 
they should be, and then to go back to her desk to write down the report. 

A ray of hope shone in the lovely dark eyes of the imprisoned young Jewess. 
Here at last was the first contact with the Maquis in this infernal cattle 
pen where, she was already understanding, human beings were far less 
valuable than dogs and even more expendable. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

As the courier sergeant sped the motorcycle towards Choiseul, Dietrich 
Vertmeyer lit a cigar and beamed with satisfaction. This Saturday morning, 
on reporting to Gestapo headquarters, he had been gratified to receive a 
communique from Berlin promoting him to Major, with a second bar for his 
Iron Cross, to reward his reprisals against hostages for the murder of his 
predecessor, Hauptmann Klaus Junge, and his capture of some of the members 
of the band of underground enemies belonging to the Maquis cell known as 
L'Aigle. 

He would spend today and Sunday at the camp, and of course regale himself 
with a stolen hour in the "Love Nest", the Huren Lager, where there was 
certain to be some tasty morsel of cunt not yet worn out by her coerced 
servicing of the illustrious officers of his division. The only cloud on his 
present horizon was the still unsolved problem of where to find that 
verdammte hoard of gold francs which that filthy Jewish pig Max Blenheim had 
managed to hide away. That old couple he had personally interrogated a few 
weeks ago had, he had been positive, known something about that stolen 
cache-stolen because all conquered enemy possessions automatically belonged 
to their conquerors and, moreover, because it was unthinkable that a 
schrecklicher Jude have access to so much wealth. But they had died before 
they could tell him anything of value. No matter, from an informant, a 
concierge, he had had the hint that one of the pretty girls suspected of 
belonging to L'Aigle's group might know something useful, and he intended to 
loosen her tongue before the sun went down today. Then he would have truly 
earned a little pleasure with one of the less unpalatable whores in the 
"Love Nest." 

In rare good humor at the prospects of his favorite entertainment, the 
florid-faced kommandant of the Choiseul Arbeits Lager dismounted from the 
motorcycle sidecar and bade his driver report to Leutnant Hans Krensch, 
acting supervisor of the women's brothel attached to the camp. This done, he 
strode to the office of Oberleutnant Ludwig Volkman, who rose at once with a 
smart salute, his cruel, lean face beaming: "What an honor, Herr Major! Yes, 
we just heard the news-it's the least you deserve. Now, how may I serve 
you?" 

"It's time I made a personal inspection of the recruits, Volkman. The other 
day, I observed the inmates of the regular blocks. By now, I suppose, some 
of the newcomers have been transferred upstairs to regularly assigned 
quarters?" 

"Das ist richtig, Herr Major! Of course we have their recrods, and it's easy 
to pick them out." 

"Do so, at once. How many remain under Hartnaur and Pfeiffer, hein?" 

"Just one from our carryover, and four new ones this afternoon, Herr Major." 

"Include them. And have them brought to the special interrogation chamber 
with the others." 

"Zu befehl, it will be done at once, Herr Major!" 

Fifteen minutes later, the twenty-two women and girls who had been in the 
basement block for recruits with Judith, as well as Judith herself and the 
four latest arrivals at the camp were lined up, their backs to the wall, 
arms at their sides, flanked at each end by corporals with submachine guns, 
while Oberleutnant Volkman and Major Vertmeyer faced them in the grim 
interrogation chamber of Choiseul. It was one of three such cells in the 
subterranean level not far from the basement block in which Judith was 
quartered, and it was equipped with apparatuses chosen to break the spirit 
of the strongest-willed prisoner: sharp-ridged trestles with buckling 
straps, a steel triangle at which a victim's wrists could be tied high 
overhead with her ankles spread hugely apart and fixed to the base, a 
straight backed heavy wooden chair not unlike the legal electric chair of 
the United States, with head clamp and sets of electrodes provided for the 
intimate areas of the female body, and other devices often tested for the 
"scientific" infliction of excruciating pain. 

"This is the lot of new sows, Herr Major," Volkman gestured with a sneer. 

"Yes, yes, I see. Any of them given any trouble here, Oberleutnant?" 

Judith, who stood in the middle of the single row of prisoners, was pale and 
trembling as she stared at the gross, florid face of the man who had 
murdered her parents, but she forced herself to show no sign of revulsion or 
hatred; it would be futile and subject her to hideous torture if not instant 
death. But inwardly she prayed with all her strength: Merciful all-knowing 
God of my people, let me live, not for my own selfish survival, but to 
avenge my innocent father and mother and the countless others this insane 
beast has destroyed and those he will destroy if he is not delivered to Thy 
judgment. 

"No, I must admit, Excellency, nothing on the reports of either the blockova 
or Hartnaur or Pfeiffer," the gaunt underofficer grudgingly declared. 

"Hmm. Any of these bitches suspected of alliliation with the Maquis?" 

"There is perhaps one, Excellenz." Volkman drew a folded sheet out of the 
pocket of his uniform coat. "A Paulette Cressy, arrested ten days ago on 
suspicion of being an enemy of the Third Reich. No papers, claims to have 
come from Pailly where her uncle and aunt were shot for possession of 
weapons, for the purpose of finding a room with her cousin. Search was made 
of the building, but the alleged cousin appears to have flown the coop." 

"Ah ha! Perhaps to find the eagle's nest," Dietrich Vertmeyer leered. "And 
what disposition was to be made of this French trash?" 

Volkman coughed discreetly. "Since there was no definite proof of her being 
a member of the underground and she had committed no treasonable acts, it 
was thought after sufficient discipline in Block Twelve, she might be 
transferred ... er ... to the special quarters." 

"You mean to the whorehouse, nicht wahr?" the Kommandant broke in with a 
leer. "Well, since I am here now, perhaps, being your superior, Volkman, I 
can decide whether she will qualify for that undeserved honor. Now, you, the 
bitch known as Paulette Cressy, two paces forward-achtung!" he clapped his 
gloved hands. 

To Judith's right, a slim coppery-haired young woman stepped forward and 
stood looking sullenly at the two officers, while one of the corporals moved 
closer to her, his submachine gun trained at her back. 

Dietrich Vertmeyer sauntered forward, put the handle of his black leather 
riding crop under the firm chin of the redhead and lifted it till her head 
was tilted back exaggeratedly. Her pointed, small widely spaced pear-titties 
strained against the coarse smock-like dress as she fought for breath. 

"Now then, pigeonne," his voice was sly and wheedling, "how'd you like to 
have a nice warm bed, plenty of food, maybe even a pretty new dress, just 
for spreading your nice long legs to make our fine soldiers happy at night, 
hein?" 

Paulette Cressy's creamy sheened, freckled cheeks turned crimson. "Non, 
merci," she hissed between clenched teeth. 

Vertmeyer turned to his subordinate. "Ach, the little one's polite, she says 
thank you, notice that, Volkman. But that's not quite the right answer," as 
he turned back to stare cruelly at the motionless redhead. 

Judith's eyes widened. Paulette-why, that's one of the two names Pierre 
L'Aigle told me to remember at the camp. Oh god, is it possible she's one of 
them? Is she the one who saw Max after I did? I pray they won't hurt her so 
I can somehow get to tell her what he said. She's very brave, and these 
fiends enjoy breaking courage, I've already learned that. And those horrible 
torture things in this room make me tremble-I've never felt so helpless and 
afraid for myself, yet I can't give in, I just can't! 

"Suppose, my little rehaired Schatzi, you start by taking off your dress. 
Then I'll see if you deserve that nice bed and food and the pretty dress. 
Schnell, now, bitch!" 

Her face flaming but her head high, Paulette Cressy began to tug off the 
shapeless gray dress and let it fall to the floor. She stood, arms at her 
sides, legs tightly clenched, wearing only the coarse stockings and work 
shoes. Her thighs were long and slender, with sleek high set, nervously 
muscled calves, her buttocks high-perched jouncy ovals with a very thin 
groove between them. Below the wide shallow nook of her navel, one saw the 
thick dark-red curls of her cuntal fleece which almost hid the dainty 
crinkly labia. Vertmeyer licked his lips as he strutted slowly around her, 
eyes narrowed to glittering slits of concupiscence, flicking the stingy flap 
of his riding crop at her calves, thighs and buttocks. 

Yet Paulette Cressy stood impassively, closing her eyes to shut out the 
avaricious smirk of the gaunt first lieutenant, but making no sigh of revolt 
of abhorrence, and Judith found her heart going out to her for that courage. 
Oh, what will I do, what will I feel if that monster should order me to be 
naked before him, with the loathing and hatred I have for him? Will I have 
the courage to offer myself? Pierre L'Aigle said I must crawl, whore 
myself-I will, if it will accomplish the purpose for which they sent me 
here. 

"Not too bad, Liebchen," Vertmeyer at last purred, "but now you must show me 
your gratitude in picking you out of all these sows to have the unheard of 
honor of servicing our gallant officers. Get down on your knees, open my 
trousers, take out my Schwanz-ah, yes, I was forgetting you French use the 
word becque for that-very well my becque and give it a nice sucking to show 
what a talented little whore you really can be." 

Paulette Cressy uttered a horrified cry and recoiled, a hand to her mouth. 
"I-I can't do that, I -I've never done it before. It's too f-filthy!" 

Dietrich Vertmeyer's florid face turned purple and his eyes narrowed 
viciously. To be sure, he could not know that Paulette was not only a virgin 
who, amazingly enough, had not yet been violated by the guards during her 
brief incarceration at the camp, but was also a Lesbian by preference and 
the cousin she had claimed she had come to Paris to live with was her lover. 

"So that's the way a French bitch like you insults her Kommandant, is it? 
You need a lesson in good German discipline and Ordnung!" Livid with fury, 
he blew the whistle round his neck, the door was flung open and four 
privates hurried in, having been stationed there in advance. "Put that naked 
whore on the trestle, tie her down so tightly the ridge will scrape her 
precious cunt, and you, the one with the glasses, stand in front of her, 
open your trousers and get your Schwanz out and ready," he commanded. 

The four men seized Paulette and dragged her to the trestle, forced her to 
straddle it, bound her wrists and ankles with the buckling straps at the 
base of its legs, then drew a broad thick strap round her waist and tugged 
it tight till she uttered a groan of suffering, lifting her contorted, pale 
face as the narrow ridge bit atrociously into her tender cuntal lips. 

The bespectacled, gangling private designated by the kommandant stood before 
her, his already swollen prick sticking out of his open fly, grinning 
self-consciously at his envious fellows who awaited new orders. 

"You," Vertmeyer pointed to a fat nearly bald private, "take my riding 
crop," he tossed it to the man who deftly caught it with one hand and 
saluted with the other, "and stripe her ass till she sucks your friend." 

"You-you can kill me, but I'll never do such a thing!" Paulette cried out, 
writhing on the trestle. 

But already the soldier had stationed himself behind and to the naked 
redhead's left, raised the crop, and slashed it down with all his might 
straight across the widest curves of her resilient bare bottom globes. 
Paulette Cressy ground her teeth together, twisting her agonized face from 
side to side, her fingernails scraping against the legs of the trestle, 
while her bottom, upon shoe pale-sheened twitching flesh a violently, broad, 
darkening welt had already sprung up, jerked and writhed spasmodically. 

"Till she obeys, Knabe," Vertmeyer snarled. 

Judith bit her lips and drove her nails into her palms as she watched the 
fat soldier remorselessly and swiftly swing the riding crop across the 
huddling, jerking, squirming bottom of the courageous redhead, hardly 
pausing between strokes, his face sweating and his lips drooling with warped 
joy to watch the angry welts spring up on the nacreous flesh. A dozen such 
lashes were applied till he paused for breath. Paulette had managed by some 
miracle of will and endurance to suppress all but low shuddering groans 
compressing her lips, her eyes closed, to shut out the obscene sight of the 
soldier's swollen prick proffered to her just a few inches away. 

"You Esel, give it to me," Vertmeyer bellowed as he strode forward and 
wrested his riding crop from the fat private's hand. "I'll show you how it's 
done." Turning to contemplate the blazingly striped hindquarters of the 
courageous young redhead, he lifted the crop slowly, then swept it down into 
the tight shadowy cleft between her buttocks. 

Paulette seemed galvanized. Her body leaped at her bonds, then fell back a 
shrill shriek was torn from her and she shook her head frantically till her 
coppery long bob danced and tumbled about her sweat-and-tear-glistening 
agonized face. 

Again the riding crop slashed into the exquisitely sensitive perineal 
groove, then a third time and a fourth. Paulette threshed each time, 
grinding her cruelly chafed soft cuntal lips against the savage ridge of the 
trestle, uttered harrowing cries, but each time recovered herself to grind 
her teeth and tighten her trembling lips. Tears drenched her cheeks and in 
her agony, she had scuffed off her work shoes and broken several fingernails 
in clawing the legs of the apparatus to which she was so perniciously 
strapped. 

Vertmeyer paused, breathing hard, a vein standing out and throbbing in his 
forehead; then his piggish eyes squinted evilly. "Volkman, when a French 
whore tries to show us how very brave she is, doesn't it suggest something?" 

"Jawohl, Herr Major-that she knows something she doesn't care to tell us." 

"Exactly, my dear fellow. And I really shouldn't be surprised if our 
stubborn little Paulette had something to do with the Maquis. Maybe that 
unavailable cousin of hers is a member of that verdatnmte group." 

"That thought had occurred to me, Excellenz." 

"Knaben, take this French Dreck and put her in the chair. Put on the 
headpiece but don't connect it quite yet-there are more interesting places 
for the current," Vertmeyer ordered, lifting the riding crop and giving the 
shuddering naked suffered a final cut over the small of her back which drew 
a moaning cry of pain even as the four privates hurried to unstrap her and 
drag her uncontrollably shuddering body over to the heavy chair. Seating her 
forcibly on what Judith now saw was a scratchy wicker seat, they strapped 
her wrists and ankles to the arms and legs, while the kommandant himself 
moved behind the chair to manipulate a square black panel box arrayed with 
numerous little switch-levers, plugging the power cord into the wall outlet. 
Attached to the other end of this panel box were half a dozen long doubled 
red and white insulated cords, each ending in a pincer-type clamp which 
could be opened and shut by finger pressure. 

Paulette Cressy's sensually dark-nippled, hard firm pear shaped titties rose 
and fell erratically as sweat rivuleted down her sides and flanks and she 
squirmed ceaselessly on the scratchy seat which irritated the purplish weals 
left by the riding crop. Straightening, Vertmeyer came round to spring open 
a pair of clamps and squeeze their tiny sharp jaws shut in the sweating 
flesh of her armpits. 

Then, planting himself on straddled booted feet, the riding crop whisking 
playfully near her agony-twisted face, he made a sign to Volkman, who 
chuckled as he moved behind the chair, squatted down and grasped one of the 
levers along the top, awaiting his superior's signal. 

All this while, Judith Arnheim had been forced to watch, like all the 
others, Paulette's brutal flogging. But unlike the others, she was biting 
her lips, while beads of sweat glistened on her exquisitely high-arching 
forehead. What a brave, heroic girl, what courage she has-and they whipped 
her so cruelly! What a beautiful body she has. If I were a man, I should 
certainly want to rape her. Oh God, there I go again, thinking just like 
these pigs do-they strip prisoners naked, they give us all only a dirty, 
scratchy single garment to hide our bodies ... it's not just because they 
want to rob us of our courage and dignity by making us stand naked before 
them, but to whet their depraved lusts. I-I have a feeling she belongs to 
the Maquis but that she won't let these pigs break her -oh, I wonder if I 
could endure all those lashes of that hellish riding crop without telling 
them everything they wanted to know? NO-I-I know now I couldn't. Yet my body 
shivers at the sound it makes, at the marks left by that cruel whip. I-I 
want to be punished with in because I've felt this insane, inexplicable 
craving in my virgin's body. This awful, helpless-yes, shameless 
even-yearning to suffer just what that brave girl must be suffering now, to 
force me to g-give my body to even a vile swine like the Kommandant! Ah, 
Pierre knew me better than I dared know myself-yes, now I'm sure that's why 
he took a chance on a Jewess, a supposedly chaste virgin, to play this 
double role. He knew my quivering flesh would quickly respond to the 
filthiest lusts. Oh, forgive me, my parents, I pray God you don't look down 
from heaven and see what a whore and slave I've become, one who cringes at 
the very sight of the lash yet who secretly, feverishly hopes it will stripe 
her shameless naked flesh! Now they've put her in that horrible electric 
chair-I can see the clamps biting into her tender flesh. There's an ooze of 
blood mixed with her sweat, but her lips are tight and her face is taut with 
a supreme courage I shall never, never equal! And-and isn't it strange and 
evil, part of the contamination of this hell which has crept into my very 
blood by now, that as I stare at her shuddering nakedness, I should find her 
even more beautiful than when she was called to step forward-oh shame, 
shame, Judith Arnheim, lowliest of cowardly, cringing whores! 

As in a trance, oblivious to all her companions in misery around her, she 
stared at the naked girl in the chair, at the sweating, leering faces of the 
soldiers, the florid, grotesquely lecherous face of the Kommandant, the 
lean, satanic features of his underling Volkman; the panoply of torture 
implements, the array of fiendish apparatuses designed to break the 
strongest human will. The hoarse, uneven breathing of the naked victim who 
tightened her lips to await the infernal torment blended with these into a 
kind of nightmarishly lewd, titillating scene whose reality she knew from 
the incongruous shivering, twitching, throbbing of her own masochistic 
flesh. 

"Now then, my pretty pigeon," Vertmeyer banteringly purred, flicking the 
flap of his crop against Paulette's nipples, "we're going to play a little 
game of questions and answers. I'll ask the question, and if the answer 
doesn't please me, you'll be a bit uncomfortable. First off, isn't it true 
you really work for the Maquis?" 

"No, I know nothing of them," Paulette said in a hoarse, trembling voice. 

The Kommandant raised his crop and swept it down through the air; Volkman at 
once pulled one of the levers towards him. A raucous scream tore from the 
naked young woman, she tried to twist herself to the right, her eyes 
bulging, glassy with pain, her teeth chattering; the muscles of her thighs 
flexed so violently they seemed to threaten to burst through the soft 
pale-creamy skin. 

"Cenug, Ludwig." The lever was pushed back, and Paulette slumped in the 
chair, the sound of her moans and hoarse breathing filling the room. "Now 
the, cherie, you see I didn't like that answer, so let's try again. Can it 
be that you work for the man they call L'Aigle?" 

"I ... ah ... I ... I've never heard that name before-" 

"Filthy little liar!" Vertmeyer hissed, and slashed down his crop twice; 
Volkman at once shoved down two parallel levers, and this time the current 
seared both tender niches as Paulette Cressy, with a frenzied, prolonged 
shriek, threw herself against her bonds, trying to kick, to claw, her head 
thudding back again and again in the frenzy of unspeakable pain that 
attacked her cruelly taxed feminine system. 

"Ready to talk yet? No? Hm, perhaps we should place the electrodes 
differently. I'll do it myself, my dear." He was almost paternal as he moved 
to the shuddering naked redhead, delicately sprang open the sharp little 
jaws of the clamps-and Judith, who was nearly fainting from the tumultuous 
reactions that besieged her, saw tiny spots of blood oozing from where those 
jaws had pierced the exquisitely sensitive flesh-only to attach each to one 
of her dark turgid nipples, brutally snapping the clamps shut so the jaws 
pierced the firm erogenous love-tips. 

"Ahhh-ahhh-oh mon Die, tuez moi!" Paulette panted, her eyes rolling to the 
whites, her nostrils convulsively flaring and clenching. 

"What about L'Aigle, cherie, hein?" Vertmeyer pursued. 

"I ... I know n ... nothing-ai-ooooouuuu-eeeeeeyyyyaaaahhrrrrr oooo Dieu me 
prends-aiiii-ohhhhh c'est trop-mon pere-sauvez-ahrrrrrouuuuuugggghhrrrrr!!" 
Mad with suffering, Paulette Cressy tried to lift herself from the chair, 
twisting her torso all her bonds allowed. Her eyes were glazed, huge, fixed 
on the infernal clamps which pinched and pierced her nipples and through 
which the voltage poured till at last with an angry sign, Vertmeyer had it 
halted. 

"I'm being much too lenient with you, you dirty little trickster," he 
snarled. "This time, you get the works. And if that doesn't make you talk, 
I'll have one of these clamps clipped to your Arschenrohrl" So saying, going 
behind the chair, he drew back two more clamps and, squatting before the 
whimpering, writhing naked redhead, bared his teeth in a vicious grin as he 
snapped them brutally shut against her outer cuntal lips. 

Paulette jerked and shrieked, clawing wildly at the arms of the chair. 
"Noooo-pas ca-pas la-tuez moi par pitie!" she shrieked. 

"All four this time, Volkman," the Kommandant swept down his riding crop. 

Volkman nodded, spittle oozing out of his thin mouth as he bent to the box 
and pulled four of the little levers towards him. Paulette Cressy seemed to 
be galvanized like a marionette whose strings are pulled this way and that 
at the same time. The bellow of agony that burst from her straining throat 
was animal, not human. Judith swayed, black clouds of carnal arousal 
swirling through her being, her eyes glassily following every expression on 
the redhead's tortured face. Teeth bared, eyes bulging and bloodshot, mucous 
dribbling out of her gaping nostrils, a copious flow of urine now spattered 
from between Paulette's shaking, jerking naked legs. 

At the Kommandant's sign, the levers were pushed back, and Paulette slumped, 
moaning stentorously. "You are really a very willful, stubborn child, my 
dear," Vertmeyer again adopted the benign paternal tone as he playfully 
flicked the victim's shuddering thighs and belly with the end of his riding 
crop. "Haven't you learned how to play our little game yet? Now? You don't 
speak- ach, faugh, you've made me dirty, you filthy little Piccsher you! I 
think this time I shall make you kneel on the chair, cherie with the nice 
little clamps snapping over your cunt, your tits and your asshole, yes, and 
your armpits too, all at the same time. I really do think you will want to 
talk a good deal then about what I want to hear. Yes, let's not waste any 
more time-Knahen, oblige the little lady to kneel facing the back of the 
chair-what der Teufel's this-the whore's fainted-Herr Gott-" 

For even as the four privates had advanced towards the chair, Paulette 
Cressy had clenched her teeth with all her might, and then suddenly her body 
had stiffened and slumped inert, head lolling forward. Angrily Vertmeyer put 
his bared left hand on her left breast. "She's dead!" he growled, then 
sniffed suspiciously. "Cyanide-how the devil could she have hidden it?" He 
pried open Paulette's jaws and peered inside her mouth, then shoved her head 
away and turned to his subordinate, his face purple with rage: "Du dummer 
Esel, do you know where she had it? In a tooth, a false tooth she bit down 
on. Volkman, I know how I inspect all Dreck that comes into this camp, but 
this cunning little bitch was admitted by you, I believe." 

"Y-yes, Herr Major, that's true enough, but-" Volkman stammered, pale and 
trembling with dismay. 

"I don't want anything like this to happen again, verstehe? Otherwise, I'll 
personally have you transferred to the tank corps with Rommel! See to it 
that every sow who comes here has a dental inspection." 

"I'm sorry-I-I'll make certain-" 

"Genug! Take this carcass away and dispose of it. And get these cattle back 
in their cells and put to work," Vertmeyer sent his subordinate a furious 
look. Then he turned to contemplate the trembling prisoners before him, and 
his gaze fell for a moment on Judith Arnheim. Her face was scarlet, her 
fingers twisted restlessly at her sides, and her superb tits rose and fell 
erratically against the clinging coarse stuff of her uniform. 

For, just as Paulette's lithe lovely body had slumped in merciful escape 
from torture, Judith's rounded, creamy thighs had writhed, rubbed together, 
and a faint gasp of shattering emotion had escaped her moist trembling lips: 
against every fiber of her psyche. She had been brought to a shameful cum. 
And as she met his gaze, she lowered her eyes, while a violent flood of 
crimson suffused her lovely face. 

Volkman fearfully followed his superior officer as the latter slowly 
approached the line of prisoners. "Ach, here's a nice new face, Volkman," 
the Kommandant leered. He put out a gloved hand and cupped Judith's chin, 
his beady eyes roamed down her tits and legs as if wanting to see through 
the drab fabric. "And she has a good stomach, too. She watched it as if she 
enjoyed it. Very nice indeed. Look at that Dreck next to her, the bitch has 
fainted. Have her taken to the delousing chamber, sprayed awake with the 
hose-the colder the water, the better, naturlich!-then strapped on the 
trestle, and let the blockova she belongs to lay on twenty-five with the 
strap. Maybe that'll teach her to stay awake when her betters are trying to 
teach her a very valuable lesson." 

Volkman made an impatient sign to one of the soldiers, who hurried forward, 
grabbed the wrist of a sprawled, inert brown-haired Frenchwoman of about 26, 
and dragged her body over the floor out of the interrogation chamber. 

"That's better. Now, who's this delightful lady, Volkman?" Dietrich 
Vertmeyer turned to his aide, scowling irritatedly. 

Almost toadying in his frantic eagerness of make up for the blunder, Volkman 
unfolded the sheet, glanced at Judith, and hastily replied, "Julia Bentner, 
Excellenz. Admitted Wednesday by myself." 

"Did you examine her mouth or have it done?" 

"N-nein, Herr Major, but the matron assured me she had examined the orifices 
and-" 

"Donnerwetter, must I do everything in this pigsty? I have work in Paris, as 
you know, Volkman, and cannot be here every minute. You are in charge in my 
absence, but I'm beginning to think-" 

"I'll examine her myself right now, Excellenz!" 

Vertmeyer stared again intently at Judith Arnheim, who lowered her eyes, 
then closed them. He shook his head. "No. You needn't wait till next 
Wednesday to put her with the others. Do it at once. And have the blockova 
inspect every inch of her body and report to you. Yes, our fine lady with 
the strong stomach needs to get accustomed at once to the good rugged life 
here. In work, there's joy, nicht wahr, Volkman? Have her scrub the floors 
of the central hall at the entrance, where she's likely to attract the most 
attention." 

"At once, mein Kommandant! Achtung, Burger, Frondholm, this bitch to Block 
Twelve, and have blockova Carla strip her down and inspect her and report 
back to me! The rest of you sluts, in a single file, march back to your 
cells!" 

The two privates-one of them the man whose prick Paulette Cressy had been 
ordered to suck-seized Judith Arnheim by the elbows and dragged her out of 
the interrogation chamber. 

Once up the stairs, the bespectacled private turned to his companion with a 
knowing grin: "Hey, Hans, this is the piece Feldwebel Holzwirth was telling 
me about. A gorgeous pair of tits and the tightest cunt he ever got his 
prick into, verstehe? Now you heard the Kommandant say he wanted her 
stripped down-why waste her on the blockova, hein?" 

The other soldier, short, squat and with a bulbous nose, winked. "I think 
you're right, Burger. It would be a shame, wouldn't it? Hey, here's the 
pantry next to our mess hall, plenty of privacy and room in there to make 
our own inspection of this Jewish cunt." 

"Just what I was thinking, Hans. All right, you cow, in there!" The 
bespectacled soldier shoved Judith against the door of the pantry-larder 
across the hall from the doors of the soldiers' mess, while his companion, 
holding onto her elbow with one hand, turned the knob and entered as Burger 
kicked the door shut. "Now then, Julia girl, off with that dress and let's 
get a look at what you've got that gave our Feinschmecker of a Feldwebel the 
hots. Go ahead, schnell! Maybe, if you're a good obliging little whore, 
we'll give you a piece of real white bread." 

Still stunned from the terrifying scene she had just witnessed and even more 
by her own erotic response to it, Judith stared helplessly at the two 
leering Nazis. But as Burger balled his fist and spat on it meaningfully, 
she uttered a gasp and pulled off the coarse garment which was her only 
covering. 

"Unglaublich! The Feldwebel has good taste, I'll say that for him," Hans 
Frondholm sniggered as his eyes laved the live-satiny nudity of the 
trembling captive. "Now then," Burger instructed, his voice thick with lust, 
"you just get down on all fours and spread those nice round legs as far 
apart as you can get them, verstehe, Dime? Hans, you can go first-give it to 
her dog-fashion. That's to show her how she might have to stick her ass over 
the block out there in the punishment compound in case she's a naughty girl. 
Herr Gott, what a nice fat, hairy cunt she's got. She could take two 
Dobermans on and still be ready for more, the way she looks with those juicy 
round tits of hers dangling down and her big ass up in the air. I'll hold 
her steady for you, Hans." He twisted his fingers in Judith's short black 
curls, then muttered: "Just you hold still or you'll really get it, and I'll 
have Carla give you an extra dose of the strap, hear me, whore?" 

Wincing from the pain in her scalp, Judith closed her eyes and panted, "I'll 
submit. Please-you- you don't have to pull my hair-" 

"Don't I now? You hear that, Hans?" to the grinning private who had taken 
his long rigid prick out of his pants and was kneeling down behind the 
squirming naked brunette. "Our Kommandant had this Jewish piece seized up 
just right! A fancy, delicate lady, a duchess, nicht wahr? Stick it in and 
make her wiggle her fine ass, Hans. And you, filth, I'll do whatever I like 
to you, get that straight. I'm assigned to your block upstairs now, and I'll 
have my eye on you all the time. There, so you don't want me to pull your 
hair, hein?" Sadistically, he twisted his wiry fingers mercilessly and 
jerked Judith's head this way and that just as his companion, gripping 
Judith's lusciously rounded hips, thrust the tip of his long prick against 
the yawning pink crevice of her quivering cunt. 

"Ahhh-oh G-God!" she gasped, unable to control convulsive jerks of her hips 
and the shuddering of her thighs as she felt the pitiless thrust of 
Frondholm's swollen prick along the sensitized sheath of her cunt. There was 
the sound of a smack as the soliders belly banged against her jutting naked 
bottom, and Judith's fingers clenched into fists as she supported herself on 
the rough planking of the pantry floor, lips bared in a grimace of pain as 
Burger continued to twist and yank at her hair. 

"Ugh-ahh, she's tight, Heinz. Nice and tight. Too bad we can't get her 
assigned just for us to fuck," Frondholm panted as his dirty fingernails dug 
into Judith's satiny bare hips. Drawing back slowly, he crammed himself to 
the balls in her slit, making the naked brunette lunge forward with a 
stifled cry, her eyes wide and humid with shame and discomfort. Burger knelt 
down to leer at her. "I like to watch a fine, delicate Jewish duchess get 
her cunt oiled up, honey," he mouthed, continuing to twist and yank at her 
short silky black curls. "What do you think of Hans's Schwanz, hein? Is it 
doing the job, is it getting you nice and hot for me?? Answer me, you filthy 
Jewish sow!" His left hand darted to one of her breasts and viciously 
squeezed it. 

"Oww-y-yes, yes, it is, it is. Oh, pl-please- it hurts-" Judith groaned, her 
face contorting in despair and pain as Frondholm continued to drive back and 
forth, grunting with pleasure as he fucked her with rapid, eviscerating digs 
that made her knees bend and give way and shoved her forward towards the 
bespectacled private who was yanking at her hair. "Hold off a second, Hans, 
I want this duchess to make herself useful," Burger now declared as he 
unbuttoned his pants to liberate a massively thick-headed prick the lips of 
which were already contracting in the ejaculatory urge. "Now then, Julia 
girl, you're going to suck my Schwanz nicely to get me ready for when Hans 
is done with you, verstehe? And then I'm going to give you a very special 
treat, one I reserve for extremely hochwollgeboren bitches of your type." 
With this, cupping her flushed, tear wet cheeks, he obscenely rubbed his 
heavy glans against her cheeks and chin, at last pressing it against her 
shrinking lips. "Just try being difficult, just try, Liebchen," he gloated. 
"I'll have your big sweet ass fried raw. Don't think I won't-ah, that's 
better-" for Judith had shudderingly opened her trembling mouth and, closing 
her eyes as tightly as she could, accepted for the first time in her chaste, 
sheltered life the loathsome offering of a male prick between her trembling 
lips. 

Swiftly cupping her chin with his left hand and drawing his Luger in his 
right, the bespectacled private growled, "Better not try biting your new 
lollipop, whore," as he put the muzzle of the gun against Judith's sweating, 
anguish-creased forehead. "All right, go to it, and you can finish fucking 
her, Hanschen!" 

The fetid, strong male odor of his prick at first nauseated Judith, and her 
belly jerked and shuddered as she fought the urge to retch. Frond-holm's 
fingernail's scored her squirming hips viciously, and she felt his throbbing 
prick immobilized in the very depths of her quaking cuntal sheath. With the 
cold muzzle of the Luger pressed painfully hard against her forehead, she 
began ineptly to suck, but Burger snarled, "I want to hear you do it, bitch! 
Open your lips more and slush your saliva all over my cock, verstehe? And I 
want to feel that uppity Jewish tongue rub it too, don't forget that. I'll 
tell you when you can stop. Make it fast now, Hans, I'm getting hot just 
thinking where I'm going to shove my big prick when our obliging little 
duchess gets it nice and ready for the job!" 

Yes! Now I'm really a whore-this is what Pierre meant-ugh, his penis is-is 
getting harder and thicker inside my mouth. I can feel it jerking and 
throbbing like a machine! It-if choked me at first, to have to-to taste it. 
But-now, it's strong, and how hot and hard it's becoming! I have to do it. 
He's got that gun right against my forehead and he wouldn't hesitate a 
second to pull the trigger! And then I wouldn't be any use to the Maquis and 
my country, then I'd never be able to avenge my dear parents-Mother, Father, 
you know now why I must do these degenerate things, to save myself to be of 
value to Pierre, to all who trust me. Ahhh-ohhh, how hard that other man is 
shoving his p-penis into my-ussy. Ohh, with all his might, and his 
fingernails are scratching my bare hips and sides. Now I'm being punished 
for feeling the way I did when they were torturing that lovely brave 
Paulette-yes, yes, harder-rape me good and hard, you filthy Nazi pig. I want 
you to fuck me. Ahh, yes, yes, fuck-that ugly word turns my insides on fire. 
Now I know, all those months, dear, gentle Max was courting me, what silly 
intellectuals we both were. He respected my virginity. Oh, if he'd only 
slapped my face and told me to strip naked and get down on the floor and-and 
suck his penis-his prick, that's the word these animals love so much to drum 
into a woman's ears. Yes, yes, if he'd done that, maybe by now the two of us 
could have been in Switzerland with all that money safe for the free French 
and making love in a nice big bed with eiderdown and goose feathers in the 
mattress. Ahhh, how hard his prick is getting inside my mouth. I'm sucking 
it quickly so he'll see how obedient I am, what a good little Jewish whore I 
am, because that's what I am now. Ahhhh, the other man's prick is ramming so 
hard into my pussy my legs are giving way. Oh, when I move forward the other 
man's prick pushes deeper into my mouth, makes my cheeks bulge out ... my 
tongue. I can actually feel the hard, knotted veins standing out against the 
tight skin of his prick. Ohh I can hear the slushing, sucking sounds my 
whore's mouth is making! 

Jostled by Frondholm's savagely bucking, hastening thrusts, her bare knees 
wavering, her clenched fists restlessly shifting on the floor, her eyes 
humid and glassy and widened, her nostrils flickering like a mare's in heat, 
beautiful raven-haired Judith Arnheim now servilely, eagerly, rubbed her 
soft pink tongue this way and that against Burger's bulging prick. 

With a shout of pleasure, Frondholm thrust to the balls a last time, 
spattering his thick cum furiously along the churning, quaking crannies of 
her wildly aroused cuntal sheath. Judith started convulsively, her eyes 
rolling to the white as once more she felt her quaking woman-flesh 
feverishly respond. Her loins quaked and jerkily writhed as she was drawn to 
the very edge of the abyss, yet she did not attain it. At that instant, 
Frondholm pulled out his greased, limp prick and panted, "That's the best 
fuck I've had in this camp, Hans. I mean, it Kamerad!" 

"And about time, I'd say. Don't look so sad, Hans. She's going to suck you 
clean and then, if you feel like it, you can go off in her mouth. I'm 
training her to do a passable job, though she's got a long way to go before 
she's as good as that little brown haired Arlette whom we had to spank last 
week before she'd take it in the mouth. Now she can't get enough. All right, 
Julia, keep your mouth open, Hans wants you to clean him off. Suck all his 
juice right down, and you'll be able to taste what your cunt's like, you 
know!" Burger rose, the Luger still leveled at Judith's head, and moved 
behind her, while his companion knelt down in front of the crouching naked 
young woman, at once cupping her flushed cheeks and arching his limp prick 
to her panting mouth. "All right, start in on the job if you know what's 
good for you, whore!" Frondholm hoarsely directed. 

As she opened her mouth to accept the stickied prick of the man who had just 
fucked her so hard she had nearly cum, Judith suddenly emitted a cry of 
startled, mortifying shame: behind her, Burger had sunk his fingers into the 
jouncy round olive-sheened cheeks of her bottom and pried them apart to 
disclose the petulant pink lips of her still virgin butthole. Even though 
her shuddering body squirmed intolerably from the feverish yearning built-up 
in her violently frictioned cuntal sheath, Judith could not suppress the 
spontaneously reflexive protest which sprang to her lips, as she suddenly 
twisted her flushed face over her shoulder: "Oh my-G-God-oh, please, n-not 
in there-please I never-I mean, I b-beg you- please do-do it to me the 
r-regular way, I-I'll please you, I'll be very good-only not there!" 

"See this Luger, bitch?" Burger snarled as, shifting left thumb and 
forefinger over the shadowy groove of her bottom and keeping the cheeks thus 
distended while his right hand tugged out the holstered Luger. "Just one 
more yelp and I'll put a bullet right into your spine. You won't die right 
away, you'll just have lots of pain for ages till you wish you'd die. Now, 
are you going to get that ass of yours up and behave yourself?" 
Instinctively the young woman's naked olive-satiny bottom had lowered 
towards the floor to prevent this unnatural act of rut. 

Biting her lips, she groaned, "Y-yes ... I ... I will, only for G-God's 
sake, be gentle-I never have-" 

"Well now, Hans, would you believe it-a virgin asshole in Choiseul! We can't 
have that, now can we?" Burger guffawed as he continued to keep Judtih's 
frantically contracting butt cheeks yawned apart. 

"I should say not. I wonder how the Sergeant missed having it for himself. 
Well, I'm glad he did; even privates have a right to fun with these Jewish 
cunts," Frondholm sniggered. 

Burger dug his fingernails into the inner edges of Judith's olive-sheened 
buttocks as he forced them even more salaciously open, drawing a stifled 
gasp from the crouching young woman. "Now get this straight, Julia, you can 
have my prick up your tight asshole cherry, or you can have a bullet there, 
take your choice." And he slyly rubbed the tip of his bulging prick against 
the tightening rosebud of her anus. 

"Oh, don't kill me-I-I'll submit!" she gasped. 

"You're verdammte right you will, whore. Frondholm, keep her mouth busy so 
I'm not interrupted without haughty duchess's complaints," Burger grinned, 
arching himself and prodding the crinkly petals of Judith's asshole with the 
hot, rigid spear point of his swollen cock. 

"Turn your face round and get to work on my prick, Dreck," Frondholm 
snarled. "Who told you to neglect a Nazi soldier who needs his prick sucked, 
hein?" 

"I-I'm sorry-I-I'll do it-ahh-ouu-ughh- ahhhh!" Judith gasped as she 
docilely opened her mouth and closed her quivering lips over Frond-holm's 
throbbing prick. Then her eyes widened and her nostrils flared frantically 
as she felt Burger's prickhead edge apart the tensing, apprehensively 
contracting lips of her virgin asshole and force its way past the 
strenuously resisting sphincter muscles. "Mmmmmf-hh-ouuuu- mmmmmm!" from her 
filled, almost choking mouth, there ebbed a gurgling, poignant moan. 

Her back hollowed, jerked spasmodically. Her knees bent, then straightened. 
It seemed to her at first that the pain would be atrocious. All of a sudden 
she had the urge to defecate, to expel the brutal, hot, hard invader. Then 
she whimpered, as the very pain blended into the throbbing warm waves that 
tingled and swirled and seemed to tickle with invisible fingers the deepest 
recesses of her womb. 

Oh God ... ahhhh ... ohhh, he-he's going to-f-fuck my bottom! Ohh, no, it 
just can't go in there. It's too tight, too narrow for such a huge hard 
prick like that. Ouuuuu-my mouth is so full. I can hardly swallow from the 
other prick. Uuuuggghh-ahhh-ouuu-I can feel the walls of my bottom-hole 
spasming, trying to shut tight, to stop his going into me so far. Ouuuu-his 
fingers are digging into my bare sides. He's shoving more into my b-bottom! 
It-it's like an enema in a way, but ouuu, lots harder, and it hurts a 
little. It's stretching me apart inside my bottom. Ohhhh God, I'm a perfect 
whore now, I haven't a secret of my body left for these Nazi pigs to find 
out about. Ohh my Lord-if-if a man were fucking my pussy now, with the rest 
of this, I- I'd surely be the dirtiest, hottest whore they ever had in this 
camp. I just know I would! Ohhhh, he's forcing it deeper and deeper into me. 
He's grunting, I can tell that means he's going to ... ahhhhhh, now his 
trousers are scratching my bare behind. He's got it all-all his big hard 
p-prick. All the way inside my bowels! Ouuuu, he's rubbing his fingernails 
against my sides and hips, my knees are swaying so. Oh, if I only weren't 
afraid they'd kill me because they'd think I was refusing. I-I, yes I'd beg 
him to f-fuck me good and hard right in my pussy. Ohhh, my pussy is burning 
and it's itching and I need punishment so badly. I'm sinful and a dirty low 
Jewish bitch. I'm a renegade bitch, because I've forgotten my faith, oh, 
God, even Max and my parents right now. All my flesh can think of is how 
much I need to be fucked and spanked and made to do shameless, sinful things 
like sucking this man while this other man is shoving back and forth in my 
bottom. Oh, I can feel how stretched he's made my b-bottomhole already. Yes, 
I can-ahhh-ohhh, my God, it's impossible to describe how shameless I feel 
right now. Max, Max, lover, why weren't you smart enough about girls like me 
to see through my prim, demure behavior and give this to me long ago? Ohhhh, 
my mouth's full of the other man's juice. I-I can't help swallowing it. Oh, 
I wish it were in my pussy, it'd put the fire out in there. I need it-and 
the other man is ramming back and forth inside my bottom hole so hard. Ohhh 
now, now, he's shot off inside me, too. Oh, the sticky hot stuff is 
squirting all the way down into my bowels. He's pulled out and my bottom 
clenched and made a shameful noise. They're laughing, and I-ohhh, my 
pussy-ohh my pussy's burning me. I can't help what they think. I don't care, 
I have to-ohhh, I'm going to faint. Everything's going black, my knees are 
wobbling and my bottom's wiggling like a whore's ... 

"Heinz, I do believe that sexy little Jewish bitch licked the way you took 
her asshole cherry," Frondholm panted as he got to his feet, breathing 
heavily. He stuffed his prick back into his fly, then buttoned it up. 

"One thing's for sure, the best way to convert a dirty little Jewess like 
Julia here is to fill her asshole and her mouth. Yes, and her cunt too, with 
good Aryan jism." The bespectacled private sniggered as he straightened and 
gave Judith's still weaving, contracting olive-sheened bare bottom a 
stinging slap. "Fun's over, bitch. On your feet. We're going to escort you 
to your new palace, duchess!" 

Her eyes glazed, her tits rising and falling erratically, Judith stumbled to 
her feet, head bowed, face scarlet. Yes, they've guessed it. I forgot they 
were Nazis. All I knew was that my body was dying to be f-fucked! No ... 
maybe even if I did know what they were, and that-that thrilled me all the 
more ... now Pierre can't say I haven't adapted myself. He'd never find a 
better whore! 

A few minutes later, naked but for her work-shoes and stockings, she stood 
before the blockova Carla, in Block Twelve in the westwing of the camp, a 
wide barred cell with three bunks on each side and six women seated or lying 
on them dully staring at her as the coarse-featured, heavy-set Yugoslavian 
woman, in her late thirties and arrogant in her knowledge that she was 
superior over these other lowly charges, poked a finger in her cunt and 
asshole, in her ears, rubbed her scalp, made her open her mouth and 
critically examined all Judith's teeth to make certain she had hidden no 
cyanide capsule on her person, while the two grinning privates bawdily 
commented on the pleasures she had given them and compared her favorably 
with the other occupants of this crowded cell in which there was only a slop 
bucket for necessities. 

Ten minutes later, still naked as before, Judith was marched off between her 
two assailants, armed with scrub bucket filled with strong-smelling liquid 
disinfectant and a heavy bristly brush, and, on all fours near the entry of 
the infamous Choiseul Arbeits Lager, set to work scouring the wooden floor 
under the eyes of the guards and the frequent official visitors to this 
newest addition to the "special housing" Hitler's sadistic minions had 
devised for the enemies of the Third Reich. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

If her ordeal had been gruelling those first few days while locked up in the 
isolation block in the basement of the Choiseul Arbeits Lager, Judith 
Arnheim's first full week in Block Twelve in the regular section of the camp 
was unspeakably demanding on her nerves as well as on her voluptuous young 
olive-sheened body. 

Even that Saturday when she had been obliged to kneel on all fours and scrub 
the floor of the entrance hallway, naked save for work shoes and drab 
stockings with loosening garters, she had not only been the target for the 
most scurrilous jibes and obscene commentaries on her sexual proclivities, 
but for harrowing subjugation of her quivering, abused body itself. 

About a quarter of an hour after she had begun the demeaning and humiliating 
task, a motorcycle courier from Paris with a dispatch for Kommandant 
Vertmeyer hurried into the hall and stopped dead in his tracks, his coarse 
peasant features twisting into a delighted grin. A few paces away from where 
she crouched, her cheeks red with shame and her asshole still painfully 
throbbing from Private Burger's brutal pillaging of her last maidenhead, two 
corporals with rifles checked the courier's credentials and nodded for him 
to pass. 

"Here's one I haven't seen before," the stocky courier guffawed as he bent 
to Judith and, doffing his glove, passed his calloused hand appreciatively 
over her shrinking, twitching bare buttocks. She flinched, but did not dare 
to make any recoiling movement, knowing full well by this time how 
ruthlessly the Nazis punished the least rebelliousness. "No, that one's face 
isn't at all familiar." 

"It's a Jewish whore from Paris last Wednesday, Heinrich," one of the 
corporals vouchsafed. "They decided to make us a present of her-well, we've 
earned it standing guard all day long." 

"Wait till I deliver this dispatch, I'll be back to get better acquainted," 
the courier leered, giving Judith a vigorous slap on the bottom. "Don't run 
away, Dime, I'll not be long." 

"You're in for a special treat, bitch," the corporal who had identified 
Judith bent down to smirk in her scarlet face. "Heinrich Schussel's one of 
our best cocksmiths. He'll give you a ride that'll make you spill your 
cuntcream on the floor. Of course, then you'll have to clean it up nice and 
proper or we'll have to give you a little spanking." 

Grinding her teeth, Judith compelled herself to remain silent. Any reply, 
however meek and propitating, would only lead to further taunting and even 
physical punishment. But the prospect of being raped again after her recent 
experience with the two privates who had taken her from the interrogation 
chamber made her shiver and cringe and tears glisten in her beautiful large 
gray-green eyes ... not tears of suffering, but what shamed her far more, 
tears of titillated carnal yearning! 

A few minutes later, the courier returned, slapping his gloves against his 
trousered leg. "Well now, Schatzi, I see you waited. That's a good girl. 
Just for that, I'm going to let you pick any position you like for the good 
fucking I'm going to give you. Want me to slip it into your fat little cunt 
the way you are right now? Or would you rather do it the way married folks 
do, on your back on the floor, your legs spread just as far as you can get 
them? Quick now, tell me, I'm due back in Paris in two hours, so there's 
just time for a quick one. Next week, though, when I get a furlough and if I 
like your style, I'll come back and spend more time with you. All right, 
what's it to be?" 

With a groan, Judith turned round, laid down her scrub brush and then, 
closing her eyes, stretched herself out on her back on the floor. If truth 
be told, her bottom hurt so she did not want to hazard the danger of 
enduring a second successive buggering by presenting her all too opulently 
tempting posterior to a Nazi in rut while posing on all fours. 

"Now there's a smart one, boys," the courier chuckled as he hastily 
unbuttoned his military pants and caressingly drew out his lean, dark-veined 
prick, a formidable weapon fully seven and a half inches in length, the lips 
of the meatus pulsating spasmodically in his mounting lust. "She wants to 
pretend we're married and this is our honeymoon." 

Raucous, lewd laughter greeted this humiliation sally, and Judith shuddered 
and pressed her palms down hard against the floor. Ohhh, all a man has to do 
now is say he wants to fuck me, and already my pussy starts getting hot and 
wet-even though my bottom still hurts, I-I don't think I would have-have 
begged off too much if-if he'd said he wanted to fuck me there-but-but my 
pussy needs it most-ooh, now-now he's getting ready to f-fuck me! 

Getting on his knees between Judith's parted, shivering thighs, the courier 
greedily ran his hands over her quivering belly, then squeezed the insides 
of her thighs, finally prodded her twitching pink lips of her soft cunt with 
his forefinger. "You can tell this one's still fresh and new," he pronounced 
as he looked up at the two grinning corporals. "Now, if I had charge of this 
Jewish piece, I'd break her in fast to learn all she could in a hurry, just 
in case they decided to turn her into tallow. Horst, Wilhelm, if you'll get 
somebody to hold the guns on her, I'll show you what I mean." 

"Richtig!" the wiry, black haired corporal who had identified Judith's date 
of arrival at the camp chuckled, then beckoned to two privates who were 
coming from the opposite end of the hall. "Herein, Kunsterlich, Glogau, 
detail work on the double!" 

Hurrying up, the two privates stared down at Judith, then at their 
non-commissioned officers. The black haired corporal snapped, "Glogau, take 
the rifle and watch this Jewish whore. You, Kunsterlich, kneel down at her 
left hand, and you, lieber Willie, take her right hand. Me, I'll take her 
mouth." 

"Now you Knaben are getting the idea," the courier chuckled. "A prick in her 
cunt, one in her mouth, and one in each hand, that's what's known as quick 
training for a piece of Jewish Dreck like this young fresh one." 

With this, lowering himself and gripping Judith's naked hips, he steered his 
prickhead between the quivering soft pink lips of her cunt, grinning lewdly 
down at her. "This'll keep you busy, Fraulein Hure," he jeered. 

The second private grumbled as he lifted the rifle and, stepping to one 
side, aimed it at Judith's panting naked titties. "Verdammte, I always get 
scheiss around here," he complained enviously as he watched his burly, blond 
young companion open his pants, kneel down, grasp Judith's left wrist and 
force her hand against his swollen prick, while the short, reddish-haired 
corporal, Willie, pulled up her other hand and rubbed it against his bared 
organ and snarled, "Now, filth, cuddle my cock, do it nice and soft and 
maybe Glogau won't pull the trigger, verstehe?" 

Meanwhile the black haired corporal had knelt down behind her head and 
crawling slightly forward, put both hands under her chin and tilted her head 
up and back while he hissed, "Now you just suck my prick till I go off, and 
don't forget to swallow every drop, or I'll cut my initials on your Arsch 
with my bayonet, verstehen Sie?" 

Gasping, squirming, Judith promptly opened her mouth, while her trembling 
hands began to caress and gently squeeze the two hot rigid pricks as docily 
as she could, as the courier, with a hoarse chuckle, quipped, "Now let's see 
whose prick she's partial to and makes cum first, Knaben! Here we go-Gott, 
that's a nice tight twat the Jewess has got there, ach du lieber!" Slowly he 
lowered himself, thrusting to the balls inside Judith's quivering cunt, his 
fingernails biting into her tender round olive-sheened hips. Arching in 
involuntary response, she found her mouth stuffed suffocatingly with the 
corporal's rigid prick, and mouthed it feverishly, while her fingers moved 
against the other men's organs. 

"She loves all that Schwanz, it's a real treat for her! Too bad it isn't 
circumcised, but then this place isn't run by Jews yet, eh, meinen Freunden? 
I can feel her cunthole grabbing onto my cock as if she wanted to chew if 
off!" 

"Just be careful you don't chew mine, bitch," the black haired corporal 
thickly gasped as he thrust his hips back and forth in the rhythm of 
copulation, forcing each time more and more of his strongly odorous, swollen 
prick into Judith's gagging, gasping mouth. 

The courier began to fuck the naked young woman with pitiless digs, grunting 
at every thrust; the furious, chafing friction began to have its insidious 
effect as she writhed, her face trying to turn restlessly this way and that, 
but Korporal Horst swore at her as his finger dug into her chin and the 
sides of her jaws, "Verruckte Hure, stehe still, verstehe? Just let my cock 
fall out of Jewish mouth and you're in real big trouble! Suck loud now, so 
we can all hear, ja, and your tongue, rub it all over-ach, wunderbar, that's 
what I like to feel a dirty Jewess doing a good Nazi's big Schwanz!" 

Ahhh-ohhh, there-there's absolutely nothing more that can happen to degrade 
me and make me feel so low, so dirty, so ashamed. His prick is rubbing my 
p-pussy so hard, I can't help myself. Oh, dear God, You know I don't want 
to-to enjoy what these monsters are doing to me-but I can't help it. My 
p-pussys on fire, I'm so hot. I know-I just know it's going to happen again 
to me-ugh-ahh-the man in my mouth is choking me-ohh, ugh, just then one of 
them in my hand sp-spurted all its sticky stuff into my hand and along my 
arm. Ooooh, the other one did it in my other hand-Ouuuuaaahh-I'm going to 
faint, he's piercing me, he's hurting-oohhhh- 

* * * 

Just as the corporal ejaculated violently into her gagging mouth, Judith 
Arnheim's hips threshed, one knee rose up and flung lewdly to the side, and 
almost at the same moment the courier exploded his molten lust-lava deep 
inside her churning cuntal sheath. She uttered a moaning cry, a hand over 
her crimsoned face as she felt her cunt oozing her own cum, and lay 
trembling from the fury of her climax. 

As the four men rose from her, they burst into lewd, uproarious laughter to 
see her panting, sweating naked body twist and jerk in the aftermath of cum. 
"All right, Hure, that's enough fun for you away from your work." Korporal 
Horst growled, kicking her in the side. "Back to scrubing. Just see how much 
good German spunk you've let smear the floor, you filthy sow! Back to work, 
I said, or do you want a good thrashing?" 

Groaning, face bathed in tears and crimson with shame, Judith falteringly 
rolled onto her side, and feebly got to all fours, groping for the scrub 
brush which one of the leering privates kicked towards her, while Private 
Glogau, his face warped with frustrated rut, vented his spite by kicking her 
in the behind, drawing a cry of pain as she hastily began to scrub. 

* * * 

The dreary routine of each new day began with inspection, then soldiers 
rolled the food carts along the rows of cells, the blockova in each section 
taking the bowl of gruel and sometimes a piece of ersatz bread for each of 
her charges. Then each prisoner was responsible for cleaning her bunk and 
one was selected each morning by the blockova to carry the slop bucket out 
to the deep cesspool at the far end of the recreation compound. On Sunday 
morning, Carla designated this degrading task to Judith Arnheim. As she 
walked wearily, head bowed, armed guards mocked her, loudly appraising her 
legs and breasts and bottom. Private Burger, stationed directly outside her 
cell, pinched her bottom slyly and whispered, "Maybe if you're a good girl 
I'll let you have some fun during recreation period, hein?" 

This done, she was given ragged blankets to sew; the blockova handed out 
only one needle per day, while the other occupants of Judith's cell folded 
the blankets into neat piles which the blockova collected and turned over to 
one of the guards as well as the needle. Lunch was more gruel, and supper 
was a boiled potato and, on rare occasion, a soupy stew with a meager bit of 
pork or rancid beef. Each block of cells was assigned a recreation period in 
the same yard fenced in by barbed wire where Judith had watched the mother 
and daughter mated with the vicious Dobermans and the hanging of the Polish 
woman Marta. And the exercise was grotesque and degrading too: each prisoner 
was obliged to place her shoulders on the hands of the one ahead of her and, 
at a whistle from an armed guard, jog back and forth in a circle till 
another whistle announced the end of the period. 

On the Friday afternoon which marked the end of her first week among the 
"regular" inmates of the camp, Judith witnessed another horrifying scene, 
the reaction to which earned her a whipping and then brutal, exciting 
violation. The guards were collecting the needles from the cell blocks, and 
in the one to her lef, Block Thirteen, the blockova, a slim, tall 
auburn-haired Hungarian woman in her mid-thirties named Ilonka, suddenly 
turned pale as a ghost and began to babble hysterically, "But I had it a 
moment ago, Herr Feldwebel, I swear it! Why, just now Jacqueline, who used 
it, gave it back, didn't you, dear?" 

The girl called Jacqueline, petite, bespectacled, about twenty-four, wrung 
her hands, tears streaming down her piquant gamine-like face, "C'est vrai, 
M'sieu le sergeant. I handed it to her just now, just as we saw you come for 
it!" 

Judith recognized the sergeant as Klaus Holzwirth, the man who had been 
first to fuck her at Choiseul. His face twisted with fury, he drew his Luger 
from his holster and aimed it at Ilonka's forehead. "I'll give you a count 
of ten to find it, you Hungarian filth! If you haven't you can say 
prayers-one, two-three-" 

The blockova was hysterical, biting her lips, her eyes rolling, babbling 
that she had it and could not understand what had happened to it. Judith 
stared down at the floor, and saw a gleaming object, called out, "It's there 
on the floor, near your feeth, Sergeant!" 

Klaus Holzwirth turned with a scowl, then smiled as he recognized the 
raven-haired young woman. Stooping, he picked the needle up, then turned 
back to the blockova, who was clutching the bars to keep from falling, so 
near fainting was she. "Lucky for you this little Jewish whore has sharp 
eyes, Ilonka. But you still have punishment coming for being so verdammte 
careless. Private Burger, bring up that stool and get the strap. Now, then, 
Ilonka, out with you, and that French slut too, Jacqueline." 

"Oh, pitie, pas moi, je t'en prie, M'sieu le sergeant," Jacqueline 
whimpered, pressing herself back against the wall, her cat-green eyes pools 
of frantic terror. On her first day, she had offended Oberleutnant Volkman 
with an answer he pronounced as insolence, and as punishment had been 
stripped naked, tied down on a bench and given fifty strokes of the thick 
brown leather strap, after which Sergeant Klaus Holzwirth had fucked her 
ass. Arrested on suspicion of having hidden a Jewish fugitive whom the 
Gestap was seeking, she had been incarcerated two months and was due for 
further interrogation by Kommandant Vertmeyer himself on his next visit to 
Choiseul. The pain of a whipping somehow agonized her even more than rape, 
and so the sadistic guards had forced her almost daily to submit to their 
rut merely by the threat of a thrashing if she did not willingly submit 
herself. 

Judith had been told by her own blockova of the young woman's almost insane 
fear of the lash, and perhaps out of the deepest commiseration for the 
suffering of her fellow prisoners, now fell into the error of the sadistic 
sergeant had hoped she would make by calling out bravely, "It's not fair, it 
was an accident, she was afraid, and she dropped it-that's not right to whip 
her just for that!" 

Sergeant Klaus Holzwirth put his hands on his hips and guffawed, the four 
privates round him joining in the laughter as Burger, meanwhile, had come 
back with a broad, heavy low wooden stool and the thick brown leather strap 
used for flogging recalcitrant or disobedient prisoners. "So, we have a new 
lawyer at Choiseul," he chuckled softly, licking his lips and staring 
hungrily at Judith. "Suppose you let her out, Burger, so she can plead her 
case with her big bare ass over the stool after Ilonka and Jacqueline have 
had their strap-oil rations!" 

"Zu befehl, Herr Feldwebel," the bespectacled gangling private sniggered as 
he walked back to Judith's cell block, unlocked the door, and snapped, 
"Raus, schnell, Jude!" 

Very pale, her thighs beginning to tremble beneath her, Judith Arnheim 
walked out of the cell, as Carla hissed in her ear, "Little fool, now see 
what your wagging tongue's going to get you!" 

"All right now, Ilonka, you first," the sergeant gestured with his Luger to 
the heavy low stool. "Off with your dress, lie over it, Arsch well up. 
You'll get thirty and your little friend twenty-five good hard ones. You, 
Jewish bitch, take your dress off too, kneel down, hands clasped behind your 
back and watch. You're getting twenty for impudence. And if I weren't in 
such a good humor, it'd be forty. Jacqueline, didn't I tell you to take your 
dress off? Guess I forgot-well, off with it, you French whore. Kneel down 
ahead of the Jewess there. You'll go over the stool after Ilonka." 

The Hungarian blockova, sniffling in anticipation, but relieved that she was 
not to be shot for misplacing the needle, which could of course be directed 
as a weapon against the guards, had already docilely pulled off her coarse 
dress and, kneeling down, laid herself over the stool with her plump, 
tightly spaced, attractive if slightly flaccid bottom elevated exactly over 
the top, thrusting the toes of her shoes down on one side of the floor and 
palming it on the other, resigning herself to her fate. But the petite 
French girl uttered a frantic scream, shook her head, and then ran wildly 
down the corridor. 

With a lurid oath, the sergeant, who had just taken the strap from Private 
Burger, flung it down, pulled out his Luger and aimed it at the hysterical 
runaway. "Halt! Stop, or I'll shoot, I mean it!" he bellowed. But 
Jacqueline, pausing only to look back, evaded one guard who lunged at her 
and ran wildly. There was a thunderous report as the heavy-calibre pistol 
jerked in Holzwirth's hand, and the French girl went sprawling and, kicking 
once or twice, lay still. 

Judith Arnheim buried her face in the crook of her arm and, having already 
docily removed her dress, sank down on her knees and began to pray silently, 
tears coursing down her pale cheeks. 

"Stupid bitch," Holzwirth growled as he holstered the Luger, picked up the 
heavy leather strap and stationed himself behind the naked, sniffling 
Hungarian blockova. "Count them off, Burger." His arm swung down with a 
wicked sonority, the thick strap flattened the plumpest curves of Ilonka's 
cringing behind. 

"Ahrrr, ohhh, St. Stephen save me. Ohh, your worship, not so hard, I'm only 
a poor woman," Ilonka wailed, wriggling her bottom violently and kicking up 
first one foot, then the other; a darkening, blazing imprint at once sprang 
up on the pale flesh, which shuddered and twitched uncontrollably. 

"Das macht eins!" Burger counted, eyeing the kneeling, trembling Judith to 
his right and smiling with anticipation. 

With sadistic deliberation, pausing endlessly between strokes, the sergeant 
flailed the blockova's heavy bottom and sturdy, round thighs; Ilonka, 
calling on all the saints in heaven, shrieking, weeping, writhing like an 
eel out of water over the heavy stool, by some heroic inner reserve, managed 
to remain over the stool till the thirtieth stroke cracked wickedly over the 
base of her furiously swollen, livid bottom. Then, weeping hysterically, she 
crawled off the stool and lay on her belly on the floor, writhing and 
twisting, shaken by interminable spasms of unspeakable pain. 

"Someone trundle that French carrion out and dispose of it," Holzwirth 
yelled to one of the guards near the lifeless body of little Jacqueline. 
Then, with greedy anticipation, he turned back to Judith, swinging the strap 
in the air. "All right, Jew girl, get your sexy ass over the stool. Try to 
be as brave as Ilonka, hein?" 

Judith uttered a choking groan, slowly rose and made her way towards the 
whipping stool, then sank down on her knees and pressed her belly and loins 
down over the hard rough surface, bowing her head, pressing her palms on the 
floor and tightening her thighs in an instinctive gesture of modesty which 
she was surprised to discover she still retained after all she had endured. 

"Now there's an ass worthing taking time with, boys," the sergeant dangled 
the strap tantalizingly over Judith quivering olive-sheened round buttocks, 
grazing the shrinking flesh, wanting to agonize her with the atrocious 
suspense. "And I want all of you to notice how refined this Jewish bitch is. 
You saw Ilonka just sprawled her big backside over the stool and stretched 
out, no finesse or delicacy at all. But Judith here kneels down pretty as 
you please, hoists her juicy tail up nicely for the good strap and bows her 
head. Of course, she's modest into the bargain too, boys, just see the way 
she's clamping her legs shut so you can't see that fat, hairy pink cunt of 
hers. Now, then, Burger, twenty loud and clear, nicht wahr?" 

"I'll see she doesn't miss a one, Feldwebel, never fear," Burger sniggered. 

Holzwirth licked his lips, took a step back to the left, raised the strap 
while Judith closed her eyes and clenched her fists to shove them down hard 
against the floor, the muscles in her full luscious thighs and bottom globes 
flexing and tightening in an instinctive resistance to the savage-looking 
thick, broad strap. Oh my God, my God, it's going to he terrible, much worse 
than the belt Pierre L'Aigle spanked me with-I saw how it puffed up and 
welted poor Ilonka's b-bottom-oh, give me strength to stand not only the 
horrid pain but, even more, the taunts and filthy jests of these beasts', 
she prayed, and her beautifully sculptured backhollowed deliciously in that 
frightful moment-which always seems an eternity-before the very first 
stroke, as all her nerves and shuddering flesh steeled themselves for the 
unknown but agonizedly anticipated torment. 

Thwackkkkk! The leather strap clung to the ripest curves of Judith's 
huddling naked buttocks; it was numbing in its violent shock, and then the 
instantly burning waves of frightful searing seemed to be branded into her 
tender flesh; her hips swerved convulsively, lowered, arched, and a 
strangled cry, partly in shame, partly in enervated anguish over the 
obscenely sonorous sound the leather band made with its ruthless impact, was 
wrested from her. 

"Das macht eins! Take your time, Feldwebel, do justice to that big fine 
tender Arsch of hers," Burger proffered, his eyes glinting behind the 
spectacles, a hand slipping to his already swollen crotch and rubbing it 
suggestively. 

"I don't need you to tell me that, Burger, halts Maul," the sergeant 
snapped, his eyes riveted on the flaming broad splotch which marred Judith 
Alnheim's palpitating olive-sheened ass. The beautiful black haired young 
woman had bowed her head down towards the floor, twisting her whitened 
knuckles down hard against it to summon her resistance against the flailing 
agony of the strap. Her knees shook, her hips could not control the wavering 
which the now ferociously gnawing heat of the lash was coercing in its 
assault on her nerves. 

Crackk! The broad strap clung tenaciously for a torturing instant across the 
base of her behind, just above her shaking thighs which Judith desperately 
strove to clench to hide the pink cleft of her exposed cunt. A frantic 
wordless yelp of pain attested to her suffering, as did the chaotic lunge, 
this way and that, of her violated behind, seeming to try to shake off the 
angry heat that seared its shuddering, rippling, twitching flesh. 

"Zwei!" Burger counted in a voice which belied his furious rut. 

"I'm going to paint a swastika on her Jewish ass," Holzwirth jeeringly 
announced as he again dangled the end of the strap against her upturned, 
wavering behind. Judith, crouching on her knees with head bowed down and 
fists rubbing against the floor in her torture, fought the impulse to plunge 
her hands back to protect her all too vulnerable bottom 

But the third crisp impact of the leather against naked female gluteal flesh 
made her mouth twist into a yawning O of unspeakable agony, a raucous yell 
exuding from it. Her eyes were blinded with tears, her hands opening and 
clenching convulsively under the shock of the brutal kiss of leather right 
down the sinuous crevice which separated her butt cheeks. 

"The little lady is starting to feel it, Feldwebel, das macht drei," 
Burger's voice was hoarse and trembling now. 

"Get your head down-you, Burger, pull her face against your prick! You, 
Einung, and you, Zachter, grab her wrists and hold tight. She's going to 
want to dance her fat Jewish ass all around the camp, looks like, and I want 
it well bent down and turned up tight so the skin's nice and drawn for the 
good leather," Holzwirth greedily explained. 

"No-don't-I-I'll be b-brave-oh please- ahh, my wrists, you're hurting 
me-uff-ahh- mffff-" she wailed as two husky privates sprang forward to squat 
down and, each sizing a slim wrists, gripped it with both hands, while the 
bespectacled private knelt before her and, cupping her tear stained, 
contorted cheeks in both hands, avidly mashed her face against his crotch. 

Thus with her back deeply hollowed, her naked bottom exaggeratedly thrust up 
and out at the ideal angle for the hellish kisses of the strap as the 
sergeant, turning sideways and posing his heavy left shoe on the small of 
Judith's sculptured satiny back. He resumed the thrashing with slowly 
spaced, sweeping strokes that cracked noisily over the tops, the middle and 
the base of her now madly plunging, weaving, twisting bottom. Sometimes he 
raised the leather high and then brought it down with a twist of the wrist 
to wed its infernal band along the inner edges of her globes and sent the 
slightly narrowed tip whisking up into her gaping pink cunt. 

Yet after the searing pain of the first few lashes, a pain which far 
exceeded in intensity the comparatively benign belt spanking Pierre had 
given her, Judith Arnheim gradually began to feel a coalescing heat invade 
the flesh of her inner thighs, make her pink cuntal lips twitch and 
insidiously moisten, till even the dainty nodule of her clit began to harden 
and throb with an overwhelming, feverish intensity all its own. 

Her angrily streaked bare bottom lunged, dashed, twisted and rose and fell, 
and yet not so much as to evade the whistling, thwacking kisses of the 
leather strap, as to try by these frenetic, sporadic movements of her 
burning loins to bring out the longed for, delicious appeasement of cum. And 
when she cried out sobbingly. "Ohh-mercy-I'll be good-I won't ever do it 
again-please-oh no more, ahh-oh how it burns me everywhere!" It was all she 
could do to keep from crying out wantonly, "Oh, someone fuck me, or shove 
your big, hard, hot prick deep into my poor little pussy so I can wiggle 
when the strap bites my poor bottom. Ohh, I need to be fucked so hard. Yes, 
yes, thrash me, punish me for being such a lustful Jewish slut. I deserve it 
to the very blood, but at least take pity on me and fuck me too!" 

Her fingernails clawed at the floor, her congested face rubbed back and 
forth against Burger's bulging crotch, her eyes were blinded by scalding 
tears, and her heart pounded wildly. The pink lips of her cunt, as the final 
lashes fell over her lividly streaked, wriggling bottom, yawned and twitched 
visibly, the aperture gaping and moist and slick with her ardent 
secretions-not yet over the brink as she desperately longed to be, but left 
on that agonizing plateau which turns the chastest female into a ravenously 
lustful passion-slave. 

"Und endlich zwanzig," Holzwirth himself counted as he flung the strap 
aside. "Now, just to teach this little Jewish lawyer not to volunteer the 
next time, boys, stand her up, her back against the bars, hold her wrists 
well up and spread as far as you can get them. Two of you hold her ankles 
and yank them nicely open. I rather fancy with her sweet ass burning the way 
it is, she'll want some attention paid to her sizzling Jewish cunt!" 

Ahh, yes, yes, oh, he doesn't know that's just what I have to have or go mad 
from this torture inside me-ohh, I'm so hot, I need to be fucked- but aloud 
Judith whimpered, "Oh-pl-please, j-just let me rest for a little minute ... 
I ... I won't struggled, oh, be kind-" 

But the four privates, panting with anticipation, were dragging her back up 
against the bars of her cell block, shoving her mercilessly against the cold 
steel. A wild yell of torment rang, out as the blazingly striped and swollen 
ass was brusigingly pressed against the bars, and in a trice she stood with 
arms held high above her head, ankles pulled a yard apart, four strong hands 
pinioning her limbs immutably. Her body shivered tumultuously and now her 
loins arched out in wanton invitation. Judith closed her eyes so as not to 
see her own utter shamelessness. 

"Don't worry, Knaben, you will each get your turn," Holzwirth sniggered as 
he opened his fly, baring his short but massively thick, empurpled prick. 
"Just hold her tight and open for me, that's all I ask. Now, Julia, this'll 
make you forget your sore ass!" 

He crammed his cock ferociously in her cuntal sheath to the balls with a 
single pitiless thrust, pinning her like a struggling butterfly to an album 
page, his fleshy, rigid harpoon burrowing in her deliciously tight, 
throbbing groove while the four men holding her wrists and ankles stared 
avidly at her writhing, tremoring naked body. And Judith Arnheim began to 
moan and squirm convulsively as she strove for her appeasement. 

His brutal, rapid digs back and forth inside her shoved and rubbed her 
welted bottom cheeks against the cold steel bars, adding to her delicious 
suffering, but even as he brought himself towards climax with accelerated 
cramming, her eyes opened, rolling upwards, and a sobbing groan of shameless 
bliss escaped her; the very heat of the thrusting and the rough, hasty 
friction against the sensitive and now fully attuned volutes of her pink 
tight cuntal sheath had begun to draw her inexorably towards cum. Mortified 
to find herself thus responding in the very midst of her atrocious suffering 
dealt her by this very same man who was now pitilessly fucking her, Judith 
whimpered and twisted her slim fingers round the bars as if to break them 
loose in her abject soul-despair, her face turning this way and that. 
Suddenly he stiffened and shot his bubbling cum violently into her quaking 
cunt, then pulled out and panted, "All right, Eining, you're next, I'll hold 
her left wrist while you try your luck at satisfying her hot tight 
kootzele!" 

Her head fell back against the bars, eyes closing, nostrils flaring in her 
by now intolerable lust as the husky blond private unbuttoned his pants and 
swaggeringly stood before her. To underline her animal-like usage by them, 
he first took his handkerchief and mopped her dripping pink cunt: "I like 
mine drier, no offense meant, Feldwebel. Now then, Liebchen, let's see how 
mine feels!" and then, pinching the flesh of her inner thighs, aimed his 
lean, stiff prick towards the slick twitching gape, thrust home in a single 
shove to his hilt. 

Ohh dear God forgive me, I-I'm going to cum r-right now-oh, I can't help 
myself-ahh, the pain of my poor bottom-ohh, I'm rubbing it against the bars 
like a c-cat in heat ... ugh ... aggghhhh ... ohhhh ... I'm fainting from 
it, everything's going black and my p-pussy's tickling and sp-spasming. I-I 
want to die for being such a dirty slut-no, no, I can't, I mustn't, I have 
to avenge my parents and all those others ... but how can I when I'm locked 
in here like an animal and beaten and raped constantly ... ohhhh ... now 
he's finished with me, and that horrible Private Burger is going to have his 
t-turn-ouuuu -why, why do I w-wriggle my h-hips so when a Nazi en-enters 
me-ahhh-ouu Mother, forgive innocent girl you reared so wisely-if you only 
knew-oh my suffering Mother, pray for my soul-ugghhhh-Ohhhhh nooooo, not 
again. I'm going to cum again-ohhh, my-my nipples are hard and they ache-and 
my bottom's grinding against the bars and I'm shameless-I'm worse than the 
whore they call me-ahhhh! 

When they at last released her, Judith slumped down on her knees, turning to 
and fro, raucous moans escaping her trembling, swollen lips. "By rights, I 
ought to make you lick up the floor where you let all that good Aryan spunk 
make a mess, Jewess," Holzwirth drawled as he nudged her livid bottom with 
the toe of his heavy shoe. "But I think you've got the idea by now. Keep 
that trap shut and your legs open, you might live another week, verstehe? 
Put her back in the block, boys. Then let's get some chow. That workout gave 
me an appetite, I can tell you!" 

They had pulled her up by the armpits, trundled her back into the cell where 
her stunned and fearful companions huddled, eyes huge with apprehension for 
themselves. Carla, her blockova, still scolding like an irate mother hen, 
kept rebuking the half-conscious risked brunette for her stupidity in taking 
any part in any other blocks's problems, but angrily sent one of the older 
women out of her bunk so that Judith could lie on her belly, head pillowed 
in her arms, to ease the swollen agony of her whipped bottom. Then, 
rummaging in a sewn-on pocket she had made for her own coarse shiftlike 
dress, the blockova took out a squat glass tube filled with goose grease, 
which she had wheedled from the cook of the officers' mess, and solicitously 
and gently rubbed the grease of the tumified, dark-red-and-purplish globes 
of Judith's shuddering behind. 

For a time, the hallway was empty and no guards were nearby. Judith slowly 
raised her ravaged, tear stained face and saw a slim boyish-looking 
light-brownhaired girl, 18 or 19 at most, lying on her bunk in the next 
block where Ilonka reigned, staring intently at her. 

"C'etait tres brave, tres magnifique, petite," the girl whispered. "Tu as le 
coeur dun aigle, vraiment te dis-je. Moi, je suis Laure. Laure Brindivin, a 
votre service." 

Judith's tear-swollen eyes widened, brightened. She uttered a stifled little 
gasp. Then, fighting the waves of sick pain and nausea which threatened to 
hurtle her down into the limbo of unconsciousness, she relayed the words 
Pierre L'Aigle had told her to speak should she meet the two members of his 
Maquis group imprisoned by the Nazis. Paulette, she knew, was dead. This 
young girl, and that fat woman who was matron of the "recruits" block in the 
basement, were her sole contacts at Choiseul. And swiftly, glancing warily 
about every so often as to make sure no hostile ears should hear, Laure 
Brindivin told her, "the monster we seek to destroy will come here early 
next week for personal inspection of the newcomers. Somehow, you must 
attract him to you. I don't know how, and it may cost you your life, but 
it's the only hope we both can have of accomplishing what all of us pray 
for." 

Judith nodded, her voice husky and faint. "I'll-I'll do it. I know how I 
can, too. Didn't you see how hot I was when those Nazi pigs were f-fucking 
me? Oh, the Kommandant will enjoy being in bed with a nice passionate Jewish 
girl who's dying to please him with all she's learned in here!" 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

It was the following Wednesday afternoon, just after the prisoners had been 
served the slop that was their midday meal, when Major Dietrich Vertmeyer, 
wearing the insignia of his recent promotion and a new pair of gleaming 
black leather boots, walked slowly down the corridor of the main cell 
blocks, with his now overly attentive aide, Oberleutnant Ludwig Volkman, the 
prison roster in his gloved hand, beside him. Ahead of the two most powerful 
officers of the Choiseul Arbeits Later strode a grayhaired fat Bavarian 
sergeant, submachine gun at the ready, while behind the officers six 
soldiers, three privates and three corporals, held their rifles at the 
present position. The show of force was, to be sure, far more than enough to 
quell the least thought of revolt among the cowed women and girls who 
occupied these squalid, ill smelling cells, but Vertmeyer insisted on it for 
its psychological effect. 

The processional stopped before each cell block. The sergeant unlocked the 
door, gestured with his weapon for the blockova to come out first and make 
report of the names of her charges, at which Volkman swiftly verified the 
tally and identities on his rolled roster sheet. Then Vertmeyer, sardonic 
and gross as ever, put sly questions to his subordinate as to the crimes for 
which these filthy sows had been sent here, wanting to remind Volkman how 
stupidly he had blundered in allowing Paulette Cressy to escape 
interrogation and thus deny the Third Reich vital information which might 
have recovered the fortune in gold francs he sought. 

As the whim struck him, the Kommandant deigned to turn to this or that 
trembling female brought out of the cell block, sometimes mockingly asking 
her how she found the rations or the accommodations-and woe betide any 
prisoner ingenuous enough to complain. Volkman marked her down for a public 
flogging the next morning at dawn, or worse, if her remarks especially 
irritated the florid-faced Gestapo chief. Three young women were already 
whimpering back in their cells with the prospect of their punishment 
tomorrow morning, and four had been told they would be summoned to the 
interrogation chamber later the same afternoon to furnish more specific 
details about their "crimes," when at last Vertmeyer stopped before Cell 
Block Twelve, and gestured to the fat sergeant. 

Carla came out, knelt and put her lips to the toe of Vertmeyer's gleaming 
right boot. "Guten Tag, Excellenz," she obsequiously and humbly greeted him 
as she straightened. 

"That's as may be, bitch. Now, your report! Schnell, I haven't all day to 
welcome all you dirty sows to Choiseul, you know." 

"Certainly, Herr Major! We have seven besides myself, Excellenz. LeMaire, 
Davriey, Martin, Lindowska, Frolla, Bentner, and Edelman." 

"Richtig!" Volkman snapped. 

"All right, now, any complaints here? Back inside, blockova, and get your 
bitches out on display. Maybe, if you've fattened them up enough and kept 
them clean, we can move them to the 'Love Nest.' I dare say there are a few 
empty beds there, eh, Volkman?" 

"Aber ja, Herr Major," the subordinate grinned evilly. "Yesterday, as you 
know, we had to hang Ludmilla, that long legged Czech Dime, for trying to 
take Leutnant Kurtz's Luger out of the holster, and Francoise and Katerina 
are on their way to Ravensbruck. So that makes at least three empty beds." 

"There, you see, ladies," Vertmeyer sniggered as his narrowed eyes followed 
the emergence of each of the occupants of Cell Block Twelve. "Line up, arms 
at your sides, heads back, shoulders straight. Hmm, a dirty, smelly lot, 
Volkman. I don't think our officers would care to soil their good Aryan 
pricks on this batch-here, what's this now?" 

Judith Arnheim had stepped out of line, flung herself down on her knees and, 
her arms clinging round Vertmeyer's booted calves, pressed her mouth against 
the crotch of his field-gray military trousers. 

"Herr Gott, was machts?" he chuckled, hugely amused at this unusual 
salutation. Doffing his right glove, he twisted his pudgy fingers in 
Judith's raven curls, for her hair had grown back quickly since her arrest 
in Paris. Yanking them, he tilted her face and bent down to scowl at her. 
"What's this you're trying to tell me, Dreck?" 

"Oh, please, dear Herr Major, I want to serve you. It's not my fault I was 
born Jewish. I-I renounce it. I-I'm a woman, I ... I can love a man, I want 
to serve you humbly and make you comfortable here, that's all I ask." 

"What's this one's name, blockova?" Vertmeyer growled, eyeing Judith's 
exquisitely poignant, lovely face, the tremulous full soft mouth, the 
widened, humid eyes, the sensuous nostrils. 

"Julia Bentner, Excellenz," the blockova fawningly replied, "does her work, 
makes no trouble, never on report-" 

"Ach, now I remember!" Vertmeyer leered down at Judith's anguished face, for 
his fingers continued to twist her black silky curls all the while she clung 
to him. "Here's the lovely recruit who had stomach enough to watch that 
lying French bitch taste the electrodes-and that reminds me, Volkman, I 
trust your dental inspections are working?" 

His subordinate flushed and bit his lips before this sarcastic reminder. 
"Every newcomer, jawohl, Herr Major. On Monday, we found a Czech girl with a 
false tooth like that-" 

"There, you see, Volkman, what did I tell you? Just use your brains and 
you'll serve the Reich well. And this Dreck here wants to serve too, you 
observe. Why not all the guten Knaben in the Huren Lager, you Jewish slut, 
hein?" 

"Oh, Excellenz, I-I'm the kind who likes it best when she can give all of 
herself to just one man who enjoys her. Truly that's the reason. And you're 
the smartest, best soldier here, everyone knows that," Judith made her voice 
seductively low and husky and forced a provocative smile to her quivering 
lips. 

"Feldwebel Jaeger!" 

"Jawohl, Herr Major!" the Bavarian with the submachine gun hurried up, 
saluting smartly. 

"This bitch to the baths at the Huren Lager. Give her a decent meal, a 
little wine, and something pretty to wear-you know my tastes, Jaeger. 
Handcuff her to the bed in the big guest room, you know which one I mean. 
All right, Jewess, I'll give you a week. If you're good enough in bed to 
amuse me all that time, maybe a little more. If not, back you go to the 
block, and a hundred lashes in the compound for all to watch, understood?" 

"Oh, thank you, Excellenz, you won't regret it, I-I'll be very good to you. 
I'll fuck you just the way you like, you'll see-" Judith panted as the 
sergeant stooped, seized her by an elbow and jerked her to her feet. 

* * * 

Judith Arnheim had been scrubbed down by two fat, obscenely jesting matrons 
in the Huren Lager, again fumigated and deloused just as upon her admission 
to Choiseul, then taken by two armed corporals to the kitchen and given the 
first substantial meal she had enjoyed in more than three months, and two 
glasses of good Beaujolais. Then the corporals had marched her back to the 
smirking matrons, who commented lewdly about what a tired bitch she could be 
before very long and advised her to "wiggle your big ass and be sure to tell 
him how you love what his cock does to your hot twat, you Jewish whore." 
Then they drew a black silk slip, trimmed with lace, with suggestively 
low-cut bodice to expose the tops and the valley of her superb round 
titties, over her quivering nudity. They made her don black net hose that 
clambered high on her thighs, with purple rosette garters with frilly 
flounces, and black pumps with rhinestones on the insteps, and finally made 
her lift her arms so they could spray a cheap, overly sweet perfume against 
her armpits, then the short slip was raised so the perfumed spray could be 
wafted against the thick silky black curls of her cuntal fleece. 

The two corporals marched her into the building known as the "Love Nest" and 
up to the second floor of that rectangular building, thence up a narrow 
flight of steps to a kind of attic, reserved for the Kommandant, his 
favorite subordinates and high-ranking visiting officers from Paris and 
even, on very special occasions, Berlin. One of corporals opened the door 
and sighed enviously, "I'd give a month's pay to spend the night here with 
one of these choice cunts. Oh well, get the broad in here, Jungwirth. This 
is fancier than a Paris whorehouse, they tell me-not that I'd know on 
corporal's pay, more's the verdammte luck!" 

Judith saw an enormous room dominated by a four-postered canopied bed, and 
above it a ceiling entirely mirrored. Thick Oriental rugs, confiscated from 
ransacked Jewish homes, covered the floor. There was a low wide 
leather-upholstered couch at one wall, a sideboard with decanters of 
whiskey, schnapps, French wines and cognacs. On the board shelf at the base 
of the sideboard lay an array of riding crops, leather straps, tapering 
dog-whips, some with knots along every inch of the lash, even a 
crooked-handle yellow English malacca cane. 

"All right, bitch, get into that bed on your back and stretch your arms 
beyond your head, schnell!" the envious corporal ordered in a surly voice. 
Judith obeyed, unable to suppress a sigh of pleasure at the incredibly 
luxurious sensation of lying on a several-mattressed bed. She glanced up at 
the mirror and blushed, seeing her own face, the short black curls framing 
it, the round breasts thrusting hard against the tightening gossamer black 
slip, the whore's stockings and pumps. 

The other corporal moved quickly forward to the head of the bed, unlocked a 
pair of handcuffs, fixed one narrow metal circle round Judith's left wrist 
and locked it, then made the other circle fast round one of the narrow but 
sturdy vertical wooden slats of the headboard; going to the other side, he 
repeated the pinioning with another pair of handcuffs for her right wrist 
and one of the slats, thus leaving her with arms widely spread and tautly 
dragged out beyond her head. This done, both men gawked a moment in 
frustrated lust at the luscious brunette young woman fettered and scantily 
clad, prepared for the rutting enjoyment of his Excellenz, Herr Major 
Dietrich Vertmeyer, and then, with a philosophical shrug, left the room, 
locking the door behind them. 

Judith stared up at her reflection in the mirrored ceiling. Please God, of 
my fathers, this time make me vilely shameless, an insatiable whore, eager 
to please this monster, dirtiest lusts-and most of all, to respond to him as 
if he were my dearest lover Max. You who know the innermost thoughts of all 
of us whom You created, oh dear God, the Jehova of my people, if I could 
against my will be responsive to those hirelings of his, grant that when he 
takes my body, it will delight his base and cruel desires, that he may trust 
me and thus let me be of aid to the land of my birth and its free peoples. 

Then she trembled, hearing footsteps, and lifted her head to see the door 
open and Dietrich Vertmeyer appear, a cigar thrust into a corner of his 
fleshy mouth, his corpulent body covered by a red silk bathrobe, swaggering 
in his gleamingly polished black leather boots. He chuckled, turned to lock 
the door. Then he approached the bed, his eyes studying her avidly. 

"Und nun, Schatzi, hier bin Ich," he chuckled thickly, belching from the 
liberal helpings of sauerbraten, prune and lentil soup and Apfelstrudel 
which he had stuffed down in his haste to visit this submissive prize. "Du 
bist ganz schon nun, Liebchen. Yes, it's amazing what a bath and good meal 
can do for even a Jewish whore like you, nicht wahr?" He moved to the head 
of the bed, bent down and stroked the black curls which clung to her 
olive-sheened cheeks. "Ja, much better than when you cut it like a Knabe. 
Long hair becomes a bitch of your sort, Fraulein Bentner-and do you know 
why?" 

Her throat was dry, her heart pounded wildly as she forced herself to smile 
enticingly up at him, to shake her head, to flutter her lashes and murmur 
huskily, "No, Excellenz, truly I don't. Please tell me." 

He chuckled again, then belched, took the cigar out of his mouth and 
examined it, then puffed at it till the tip glowed fiery red, before he 
answered, slyly, "Well, if a Schatzi is very naughty and she has nice long 
hair, she can be hanged by it from a meat hook and given a good dose of the 
whip. Of course, in such instances, her arms will be tied behind her back." 
He waited a moment to study her face, to delectate in the way, for a 
fleeting instant, her forehead creased with the cold terror that leaped into 
her brain, then chuckled most benignly. "But there's no need to speak of 
such unpleasant things, Liebchen. Not when you've told me you wanted to be 
very good to me. Of course, you understand, it won't do any harm for you to 
keep your mind on such things, just in case you find you can't quite bring 
yourself to please me. I must tell you, I have certain-shall we say-little 
notions about giving a woman pleasure. Now they may be new to you, Liebchen, 
but if you really intend to keep out of Block Twelve for longer than the 
week, you'll just have to make your mind up to being indulgent with your old 
Dietrich, versthehst du, Schatzi?" 

"Y-yes-I-I understand-I-I'm ready to- to please you-truly I am-" 

"Not only ready, but eager, nicht wahr?" his voice grated and his watery 
blue eyes narrowed. 

"Oh yes-yes-I-I'm so grateful for your kindness, Kommandant, I truly-I 
c-can't wait to prove myself to you-please-t-tell me what you like. I-I'll 
work very hard to give you pleasure-" her voice was husky with sensual 
cajoling, but also out of the inordinate fear that sent cold chills up and 
down her spine. The bite of the handcuffs against her slim wrists told her 
only too well what hideous risks she ran now. What was worst of all, she 
knew him not only for the murdered of her parents but with her own eyes had 
seen his inhuman torture of young Paulette Cressy. And all this conflict had 
begun to make her soft cunt twitch with perverse longing. 

"Well, that's a good start anyway, Schatzi. Only, you mustn't be too 
familiar with me your very first night. You have to earn your place. Right 
now, you're just another piece of dirty Jewish Dreck, a fugitive with no 
papers, and Himmel only knows what mischief you've been up to before you and 
I were introduced-but let that pass. So you see, you have to make a very 
good impression on me this first night to help me put aside those bothersome 
thoughts about you, Fraulein." His voice continued its tauntingly benign 
tone, and Judith comprehended the sadistic, gleeful relish he savored in 
playing this cat and mouse game with her, while her flesh shivered in an 
exquisite sensual anticipation of what he might demand of it. 

"I want so very much to try, Excellenz-wont't you just tell me what you like 
most, please-you see, before-well, before I came here, I ... I'd never had a 
man, that's the honest truth, I swear it, Excellenz. And-and I have to throw 
myself on your mercy to be-well, to be my teacher, because an innocently 
brought up girl can hardly know all that a strong, vigorous man like 
yourself wants her to do," Judith wheedled, arching her body and drawing up 
one knee so that the short slip hiked up to show the diaphanous cling of the 
black net hose and the glimpse of the gaudy rosette garter which clung so 
lovingly round her beautifully rounded firm thigh. 

"Now talk like that pleases me, Schatzi. You may not believe it, but we 
high-ranking officers have had our fill of skillful French whores who know 
all the tricks. It's refreshing to find a little honesty in a bitch these 
days. Yes, we'll pretend I'm your wise, older Vater, Liebchen, and I'm going 
to teach you how to make a discriminating man like me very pleased with you. 
Ja, wirklich, it will be amusing for both of us, I should say." 

With this, he straightened, unfastened the belt of the red silk bathrobe and 
flung the garment to the floor. His swollen prick tilted out in savage 
erection under the gross, heavy belly. "You mustn't think that a man's 
effeminate if he likes to wear silk, Liebchen," he purred as he took the 
cigar out of his mouth and examined the glowing tip again. "Our great German 
composer Richard Wagner, whose music the Reichsfuhrer himself adores, loved 
to wear silk against his naked skin. It stimulates the senses, especially 
for moments such as these, Schatzi." 

"Ohh, I-I can see you're very much a man, Excellenz-good gracious, I-I'm 
scared-" Judith stammered, unable to suppress a blush of secret 
shamelessness at the obscene sight of his heavy prick. 

"Scared, my enterprising little Jewess? And of what?" His hand reached to 
the hem of the slip, yanked it up to her waist, to expose the thick black 
fleece of her soft cunt. 

"Why-of-of your big-your big c-cock, Herr Kommandant-oh my, I-I only hope my 
poor little p-pussy can take it and give it pleasure," she forced herself to 
inflame him for her with words that hitherto had not existed in her daily 
vocabulary, which she had learned here at camp. 

"Oh, we shall find that out, but there are other lovely things to do before 
that. Now, to start with, let's pretend I'm your loving Vater and I've come 
to wish you good night, but you can't sleep, you're restless, and of course, 
seeing you with the covers flung off and your hairy little cunt exposed-you 
naughty little Schatzi you!-why, naturlich, your old Vater gets excited. So, 
since at first he wouldn't dream of putting his Schwartz in his own sweet 
little Tochter's kootzele, he asks her very apologetically if she would mind 
taking it in her mouth. Like this!" 

Clambering up onto the bed and kneeling over her heaving titties, Dietrich 
Vertmeyer presented his bulging, throbbing prick to Judith's trembling lips, 
and lifting the glowing cigar in his right hand, reached behind him to hove 
it inches away from her exposed cunt. 

O my dead, honorable father, forgive this monster's sacrilegious and 
abominable words- forgive me most of all that I must convince him how much I 
like his despicably filthy game. I shall drive out all thoughts from my 
mind, I shall will my body to be lustful and hungry for him whom I loathe 
above all others in this world of hell the Nazis have made of their Third 
Reich-now, I shall be his adoring whore- 

Shivering, her eyes closing, Judith Arnheim opened her lips and softly, 
delicately applied them to the tip of his swollen glans and began to suck 
with moistly slushing sounds, delving the tip of her pink tongue against the 
sides of the straining projectile. 

The naked, booted Kommandant drew on the cigar and puffed at it, smirking 
with pleasure at his captive's docile acquiescence. "Wunderbar, mine 
Schatzi," he panted. It's plain to see that Schweinehund Burger taught you a 
little something before you came to your old Vater Dietrich for advice. 
Naturlich, I'm a little jealous, aber try to make me forget that a common 
private has got his cock into your mouth first-ach, das is sehr gut! How 
soft and sweet your tongue is, my little Tochterin is learning very quickly 
how to please her old Vater Dietrich. And she'll learn much more. Genug, now 
we shall try something I'm sure will be quite new-it is my specialty, 
Liebchen. First, we roll your nightie up over those fine big firm Butzen of 
yours, like so, and then-ahh, wirklich famos!" 

Drawing his swollen prick out of Judith's trembling mouth, he rolled the 
black slip up to her throat, his pudgy fingers kneading and squeezing her 
round swelling titties while Judith Arnheim squirmed lasciviously and 
arching her loins, drawing up first one pumpshod foot, then the other, a 
tremulous, shy smile on her lips as she sought to convince him of her abject 
sincerity. 

Cupping both titties in his fat hands, Dietrich Vertmeyer shifted himself 
astride her till his saliva-glistening, inflamed prick brushed one of her 
olive-sheened breasts' lower curve. Then, giggling like a demented child, he 
arched himself to press his prick between the satiny globes of her bosom, 
which his fingers commandeered over the outer curves to squeeze them against 
his throbbing ramrod. Then he began to press forward and drawback, rubbing 
his swollen prick against the inner curves of Judith's panting titties. 
Cocking his head and with a gleeful look, he hoarsely demanded, "Nun sagen 
Sie mich, die Wahrheit, Schatzi, tell me truthfully, have you ever given a 
man a good heisses fuck with your Butzen before, hein?" 

"Oh, no, V-Vater D-Dietrich," Judith gasped, squirming uneasily, for his fat 
fingers mercilessly pinched and squeezed her sensitive breasts, and the 
rough chafing friction of his swollen cock had become an irritant. 

His face wrinkled as the sudden urge to spend seized him. With an effort, he 
held himself back as he straightened, staring greedily at her flushed face. 
"Now put your knees up, bring them back to your Butzen, and show me your 
hairy cunt, Liebchen!" 

Judith Arnheim instantly obeyed, with a soft cajoling little laugh as she 
coyly murmured, "Vater Dietrich, are you going to put that great big c-cock 
of yours into my tiny little p-pussy? Oh, I do so want to take it all, 
please don't punish me if it's much too big for my poor little pussy!" 

His florid face turned purple with overwhelming rut as his wet lips twisted 
into a drooling grin. "Nichts jetzt, meine Schone-first, a naughty girl like 
you must have a nice little Tracht Prugel, a spanking, before Liebe. Now you 
stay just like that, those pretty knees shoved up against your nice big 
Butzen, and your old Vater Dietrich will be right back to give his schamlos 
Tochterin her punishment." Chuckling thickly, he got down off the bed and 
marched over to the sideboard, his swollen prick bobbing obscenely between 
his fat hairy legs as he stooped to pick up the swishy short English cane. 
Judith Arnheim, her eyes wide and humid, her cheeks flaming in her shame at 
displaying her body so obscenely posed, uttered a stifled cry of fear as she 
saw him turn back to her, the cigar sticking out of a corner of his fleshy 
wet mouth, his eyes glazed and narrowed, his prick jerking with curious rut. 

"Oh, mein Vater Dietrich, bitte not h-hard-oh, I'm afraid," she huskily 
tried to placate him. 

"Nein, Liebchen, not hard when a girl is well behaved and treats her old 
Vater the way you are doing-just a few little heissen Schlagen to make sure 
you will want my cock deep in your soft tight little cunt," he sniggered 
hoarsely. Clambering back onto the bed, he posed himself at Judith's right, 
put out his pudgy left hand against the lower back of her right thigh, and 
then playfully flicked the little cane across the upturned, voluptuous swell 
of the base of her olive-sheened bottom-cheeks. Her hips jerked 
convulsively, gaping even more the pouting lips of her soft cunt, 
disclosing, too, the petulant, twitching orifice of her dainty anus, and his 
eyes blazed with furious rut. Lifting his right hand, he dealt her half a 
dozen light little taps all over her wriggling bottom. He studied the 
involuntary starts and squirmings of her lusciously rounded hips and the 
feverish wrigglings of her pumpshod feet. The cane left faint streaks on the 
tightly drawn satiny skin of her behind. He puffed furiously at his cigar as 
his excitement mounted. 

Pausing a moment, his hairy chest heaving with his quickened, hoarsened 
breathing, the Gestapo chief muttered, "Now, that isn't too bad, hein, 
Liebling? Not like the hundred Schlagen you'll get at the end of your week 
if I'm not satisfied with you, I assure you." 

"Oh, n-no, V-Vater D-Dietrich," Judith stammered faintly, "I-I can bear 
that. It-it doesn't hurt-" 

"Gut! Now, du schamlos Tochterin du, I am going to spank your big sweet 
Arsch, and you, meine Kleinste, will tell your old Vater Dietrich how much 
you want him to fuck your kootzele, verstehe? I want you, nein, I order you 
to say all the naughty, dirty words you can think of to make me come to bed 
and fuck my naughty little daughter!" He flung the stub of his cigar onto 
the floor, his pudgy fingers digging cruelly into her thigh as he began 
again to whisk the little swishy cane all over her writhing, lewdly upturned 
naked behind. 

Her fingers twisted round the headboard rails. Gasping and squirming, Judith 
Arnheim closed her eyes so as not to see herself reflected in all her 
wanton, obscene naked self-surrender by the ceiling mirror. In a choked, 
husky voice, her magnificent naked titties rising and falling erratically, 
she complied with the sadistic Commandant's order to demean and debase 
herself. "Oooh-I'll be a good little d-daughter, dear V-Vater Dietrich-aii. 
It stings my n-naughty bottom. Oh it teaches me to do everything you want. 
Oh, yes, yes, ahrr. Please, wouldn't you much rather fuck my tight little 
pussy with your great big hard cock? Oooooh, I'll be so good, I promise, 
V-Vater-ahhhowwww. Please, oh please, won't you please fuck me hard right 
now. Please s-stick your big cock all the way into my p-pussy? Ohhhhouuuu, 
Vater, it hurts, it stings my b-bottom. I won't ever be naughty again. I 
promise. Ohh f-fuck me hard now, Vater, please, darling, kind Vater 
Dietrich, fuck my p-pussy hard!" 

Yet even as she fought with all her might against the horrible travesty of 
passion with this degenerate beast who had murdered her parents and so many 
others, Judith Arnheim began to feel the violent resurgence of sensations 
that dismayed her as they had done in the past few incredible weeks of her 
imprisonment. The stinging taps of the cane which danced over the base of 
one shuddering buttock, then the hip slope of the other, then whisked across 
both upper globes only to sting diagonally the very ripest curve of one 
quivering, pink-streaked hemisphere, were creating an intense yet far from 
cruelly punishing heat in her shuddering young flesh. It was making her hips 
weave and squirm licentiously, drawing an itching, moistening tingling deep 
inside her gaping, soft pink cunt. Her face began to turn restlessly back 
and forth, her fingernails to drive into her sweating palms. Her pumpshod 
feet to kick sporadically, to waggle and twist, as long shivering flexions 
rippled her beautifully contoured net-sheathed calves and thighs. Whimpering 
gasps and panting little moans exuded from her trembling, parted lips, while 
her sensuous nostrils flared and clenched involuntarily. 

Oh God-oh, I'm getting so hot in my pussy. I-I want to be fucked. Just 
thinking, saying that dirty word just once in my mind makes me ache inside 
my p-pussy. Oh, that cane is driving me wild, my bottom is hot and stinging, 
yet it's not all the way it was when they strapped me out in the corridor of 
the cell blocks-ohhhh, ohh, Maxl, I wish it were you binding me to our 
marriage bed and wh-whipping me to make me your Jewish slave girl, torturing 
me till, just as at this very moment, I can't wait to be f-fucked-I want it 
so hard, so cruelly hard in my p-pussy-ohhh, you filthy pig of a Nazi 
murderer. For God's sake, do it, oh don't keep my pussy waiting like this, 
you beast, you cruel monster. Ohh my God, I want to be fucked. I don't care 
who does it to me. Bring the soldiers, whip me and I'll service all of them. 
My pussy's so hot now I could give all the guards what they want from me. 
Ooooouuuu please, lieber Dietrich, fuck your Jewish bitch, your thing, your 
Dreck, your Hure, fuck meeee! Please fuck me! 

"Herr Himmel Gott, nun, ja, nun is the Zeit," he panted, flinging away the 
cane. With both hands, Dietrich Vertmeyer gripped Judith Arnheim's knees, 
flattening her heaving round titties as he compressed her stockinged knees 
back against them, to uptilt still more obscenely the moist slick wet pink 
gape of her yearning cunt. Then, with a bellow of rut, he jammed his 
swollen, empurpled prickhead against the yawning orifice and buried it to 
the balls in a single violent thrust. 

With a clamorous, strident cry of sheer animal ecstasy, the handcuffed naked 
black-haired young woman lunged her shuddering, cane-streaked hips upwards, 
wanting to absorb every rigid, scraping inch of her ravisher's gouging 
prick, her face twisting back and forth, eyes glazed and exorbitantly 
widened and unseeing. Her feet kicked frenetically, the rhinestone-buckled 
pumps thuding into dietrich Vertmeyer's sweating broad back, her stockinged 
toes twisting in maddened convolutions, whimpering, chaotic, sobbing cries 
pouring from her gaping mouth. "Ohhh-ahhh- yes-eeee-M-Mother-ahhh-ohhhh 
ouyuuuuu, ohh God-ahhhh-ouuuuu yes, yes, yes, eeeaiii, harder, ohh my God, 
yes, yes, yes, give it to my pussy harder. I need it. I want all of it deep 
inside meeee-oh, Vater Dietrich, ohh hurt me, fuck my pussy, kill me with 
it, ohhh, your great big hard hot cock feels so good in my tight pussy. Yes, 
yes, oooooh, I'm going to-cum-yes, yes, oh, faster, pinch me, hurt me, I'm 
your Jewish whore, your naughty bitch of a daughter who wants to be fucked 
so hard she can't stand it. Now, ohh, ahh, ohhh, I can feel your hot cum 
bursting in meee. Ohh, I'm cummmminnngggg. Oh Daddy, Mother, ohhh I'm 
cummmmming so hard, oooohhhhh!!!" 

Her tethered body threshing, her legs at last flinging round his hips to 
clamp him to her, Judith Arnheim bucked and shuddered frenziedly tilting 
back her head, her exorbitantly widened eyes clouded by the swirling miasma 
of shattering, overpowering fulfillment. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

"Wirklich unglaublich, Schatzi!" the leering Kommandant of Choiseul shook 
his head admiringly as he lolled on the huge bed, wearing only his boots, 
head propped up by two pillows, a short-handed black rubber dogwhip in his 
right hand, as he stared greedily down at his new favorite. Judith Arnheim, 
clad only in pumps, black net hose with rosette garters, her wrists 
handcuffed behind her back, crouched between his hairy fat straddled thighs, 
lingeringly pirouetting her soft pink tongue against his limp prick. It was 
Friday night, her third as his private concubine. Since her fateful 
surrender to him outside her cell, seen only these four luxurious draped 
walls. When he left to resume his duties at the camp, her wrists had been 
handcuffed to the headboard rails. The two matrons of the Huren Lager acted 
as her maids, feeding her, bathing and perfuming her. Releasing her only to 
go to the elegantly furnished bidet and toilet whose door was at the far end 
of this immense chamber of erotic depravity. On those occasions, one of the 
matrons held a Luger on her while the other led her into the bathroom to 
perform her functions and abolutions, then marched her back to the bed and 
handcuffed her as before. 

He had been insatiable, like a man who discovers the temptation of young 
ripe palpitating woman flesh for the very first time. Last night, coming 
again to her in the red silk robe and boots, face mottled from too much good 
food and vintage French wine, he had made her stretch her legs hugely apart 
and then applied a light spanking, a "Liebes Prugel," as he called it, on 
the fronts and insides of her thighs with the knotted dog whip, whisking the 
knotted tip several times right into her gaping cunt, chuckling lustfully to 
watch her loins swerve and thresh, her round panting breasts jiggle and 
dance as the voluptuously attuning sting of the little knotted lash prickled 
her most subtle feminine nerves and, as she writhed, tears streaming down 
her flushed cheeks, making her abjectly plead with him to fuck her, again 
using the most shameless, lewd expression she could summon. Then, taking her 
by complete surprise, he had put aside the whip and bowed his head to her 
twitching pink moistened cuntal lips and slobberingly sucked and licked her 
till her body arched and strained, her face contorted in the agony of 
lustful yearning for release. Masterfully, he had straightened just when she 
felt herself on the very threshold of cum, and gloatingly ordered her, "Beg 
for my cock, since your tight Jewish cunt is so hungry for it. Let's hear 
you earn your reward, kleine Hure!" 

Whimpering with uncontrollable sexual passion, beside herself from the 
calculated torment he had known how to inflict on her ardent, fully awakened 
young body, Judith Arnheim had implored him in even grosser, self-degrading 
terms, calling herself the dirtiest, hottest of little Jewish sluts, 
pleading to her beloved, cruel "Vater Dietrich" to cram, pierce, poke, 
skewer and grind her pussy to pieces, mewling like the veriest bitch in 
heat, her pumpshod feet waggling this way and that on the bed as violent, 
swirling waves of uncontrollable lust swept through her jerking, undulating 
naked loins. 

Then, laughing uproariously at his own lustful caprice, he had dragged her 
knees back against her titties and thrust his swollen prick against the 
furtive, puckering lips of her tender butthole. Frantic with her desperate 
cuntal needs, Judith had sobblingly begged, "Ohh, please, Vater Dietrich, 
not there. Ohh, I need it in my pussy. Oh please there first, then you can 
have me anywhere else. But do please fuck me first. I need it so terribly!" 

"You forget yourself, you Jewish slut," he'd mocked her, his lips working 
convulsively in his furious sexual rut. "Ich bin Meister herein, vergessen 
das nicht!" And then, pitilessly gouging the shrinking lips of her asshole 
apart, he'd violently buggered her, heedless of her cries of sensual pain, 
and only finally, when he was glutting himself with her writhing anguish and 
maddened by the spasmodic clenchings of her rectal walls against his 
imbedded cock, gratified her into a mad, wailing ecstasy by frigging her 
clitoris with his right forefinger. Thereafter, kneeling over her flushed, 
exquisitely poignant face, he had forced her to lick and suck his prick 
clean. Thus restored to full erection by the exciting sensation and the 
knowledge of how he was plunging her further and further into the 
soul-annihalating morass of degradation, he had flung himself upon her and, 
his pudgy fingers mercilessly squeezing and fondling her heaving titties, 
had fucked her brutally-only to gasp in delighted surprise himself, when, 
even as she winced and moaned under his bruising, chafing probing, her body 
threshed and stiffened in the throes of feverishly answering hot cum. 

* * * 

"Ach, sage Ich das einmal, das war glaublich," he repeated with a coarse 
snigger as he arched himself to feed her gasping mouth still more of his 
throbbing, hard prick. "Even I, your old kind Vater Dietrich, didn't expect 
to find such a naughty girl im Bett mit mirl Jawohl, I'm pleased with you, 
Schatzi. How'd you like a very special treat?" 

"It-it's joy enough for me to serve you, lieber Vater," Judith looked up 
with luminous, flirtatious eyes, squirming on her knees and spreading them 
to give him the vision of her soft pink pouting cunt as a sign of her 
complete infatuation for him. 

"Nein, nein, I mean it, Schatzi," he insisted, grinning benignly. "This has 
been wirklich like a honeymoon. But I really must get back to headquarters 
in Paris and see what's happening in my absence. Now, if you're a very nice 
Tochterin tonight, if you outdo yourself, I just might take you along with 
me. There's a very naughty cabaret in the Rue Pigalle-these French pigs are 
such degenerates, you know, Liebling, it's no wonder they lost the war right 
away-and the owner, Henri Lartrier, is smart enough to see what side his 
bread's buttered on. He's going to put on a special show for me and a few of 
my aides and important friends, there'll be sluts for all of them, but of 
course you'll take care of your dear old Vater, naturlich. Would you like a 
little outing, Liebchen?" 

"Oh, that would be wonderful, dearest Vater! You're so good to your naughty 
little girl," Judith Arnheim cooed in her most seductive, little-girl voice 
which seemed to inflame him most of all when they were together. "Now, may I 
please have the honor of sucking my beloved Vater's big hard cock so it can 
punish my tight little pussy for being such a wicked, sinful girl?" 

"Jawohl, you've really learned what I like, you filthy little piece of 
Judisch cunt you!" he sniggered. "No, this time, I want to use your big 
Butzen again for my Schwanz, your soft satiny skin makes it harder, I do 
think than even that tight hot hole between your long legs. But, because 
you've pleased me and to prove to you that your Commandant is not such a 
cruel fellow after all, I'll see to it that your cunt has pleasure too." 

"Oh, thank you, Vater Dietrich! What must I do, how do you want me now?" 

"On your back, knees up and spread, schnell!" he urged. And when she had 
rolled onto her back with an eager, smiling alacrity that made him chuckle, 
Dietrich Vertmeyer shoved the whip-handle slowly into her quaking pink 
cuntal sheath as far as it would go. 

"Ooooooh, ahhh, ohhh, Vater, I meant your c-cock, oh please, can't I have it 
after you fuck my titties?" Judith panted, weaving her bottom lewdly, her 
nostrils flickering with attunement as the chafing, wide hard rubber handle 
of the little dog whip rasped and scraped the tender crannies of her 
seething cunt. 

"We'll see, Schatzi. Now stick those nice big tits of yours well up and see 
just how big you can make my cock from rubbing between them," he panted. As 
he crawled over her, cupping one of her titties with his fat left hand, he 
reached behind, groping for and finding the protruding lash of the dog whip, 
and began playfully to pull it out, then push it back down. 

"Ohh, Vater! Ahh, it tickles so nicely in my naughty pussy-ooooh! It's so 
good-oh yes, fuck me hard that way, shove it in deeper!" Judith mewled, 
wriggling licentiously, swinging her stockinged knees to and from as she 
eagerly arched her olive-satiny round swelling titties to the angrily 
swollen, jerking spear of his rigid prick. Steering it with his left hand 
between the swelling loveglobes, Dietrich Vertmeyer moaned with pleasure to 
feel the warm, slightly moist satiny flesh of Judith titties rasp against 
his throbbing cock. 

* * * 

Kommandant Dietrich Vertmeyer had commandeered the armor-plated black 
limousine for the drive from Choiseul to Paris, and Private Burger was the 
liveried chauffeur, somewhat to Judith's embarrassment. But the Gestapo 
chief invited none of his staff at the camp, though Oberleutnant Volkman had 
done his very best to ingratiate himself with his superior and wheedle an 
invitation to the Cabaret Etoile. 

In the back seat, lolling comfortably, his left arm round Judith's waist and 
his right hand slyly fondling her thighs under the tight black satin skirt 
which she had had to don, together with a short-sleeved white satin blouse, 
black net hose with red rosette garters and the rhinestone-buckled pumps-and 
nothing else, Vertmeyer was in an expansive mood. "Burger, I had Volkman 
assign you to this little detail this evening because you're not only the 
best driver in the outfit, but because I've heard great things about your 
making these Jewish sows toe the mark." 

"I do my humble best, Excellenz," the bespectacled, gangling private smirked 
and inclined his head to acknowledge the Kommandant's gracious commendation. 

"Ach, don't be so modest, mein Bube! I myself heard from Volkman how you 
enjoyed this little Jewish piece beside me now, isn't that so, Liebling?" he 
turned to the young woman beside him, his fingers gliding up her bare upper 
thighs to the silky thatch of her cuntal fleece and slyly prodding the soft 
pink lips of her vulva, making her squirm and gasp in frantic mortification, 
"Ohh, please, n-not so he can see, please?" 

"Nonsense, girl! Tonight, no distinction in rank. We're men among men, out 
for a good time to forget for a little moment this verdammte Krieg, isn't 
that right. Burger?" With right thumb and forefinger, while he hugged Judith 
more tightly to him, he applied a wicked little pinch to where her thigh 
joined her buttock, and a stifled squeal of discomfort was his reward as he 
burst into braying laughter: "Why, this nice Schatzi of mine acts as if 
she's still a virgin, would you believe it, Burger? Of course, we both know 
she isn't, don't we, Knabe?" 

"That's the gospel truth, Herr Major," Burger sniggered from the wheel as he 
steered the big limousine through the narrow cobble stoned streets towards 
the district of the notorious Rue Pigalle. 

"I can tell you she's a hot little slut once you give her ass a nice little 
spanking, Burger boy, though I dare say you already found that out for 
yourself." His forefinger pried apart the lips of Judith's vulva and pressed 
slowly home, as the raven-haired young woman squirmed and gasped, her cheeks 
crimson with shame, yet instinctively spreading her legs and arching her 
loins up to the tantalizing bliss of frigging. 

"That's true again, Herr Major. If I may be so bold as to say, I sort of 
miss her in Block Twelve. The others there can't really compare." 

"My boy, I think you've rare discrimination, and you should have at least 
the stripes of a Korporal. In fact, I've told Volkman to consider it an 
order. So next week you'll have a bit more pay. If you keep this up, you may 
even be able to afford this degenerate cabaret we're going to." 

"Most respectful thanks, Herr Kommandant." Burger again inclined his head. 
"Here we are." 

"Sehr gut! I see the others have already arrived. Well, Burger, park the 
limousine and let's see what kind of entertainment that collaborating 
scoundrel Henri Lartrier has cooked up for us tonight, hein?" Vertmeyer 
chuckled, drawing his finger out of Judith's moistening, twitching cuntal 
sheath. "I'll help our pretty guest out myself, Burger. Come along, 
Liebchen. Tonight, you'll have some real French champagne." 

He got out and held out his hand to the trembling, blushing, scantily 
dressed young woman. "Now, take my arm, Liebchen. I want these high and 
mighty SS officers to see what a choice piece of Jewish goods we of the 
Gestapo know how to pick from the scum." 

As the trio entered, Burger opening the door for his commanding officer and 
Judith Arnheim, the owner of the Cabaret Etoile came out from behind the 
cozy little bar to welcome the high-ranking patron with effusive and fawning 
cordiality. Henri Lartrier was hunchbacked, with the grotesquely broad right 
shoe of a clubfoot, his face wizened and his curly dark hair almost entirely 
gray. "What an honor, Herr Kommandant-or should I say Herr Major? I hadn't 
had the chance, you see, to congratulate you on your richly deserved 
promotion. You've neglected us by staying away so long. And I've reserved 
the best table, right up front by the stage-ah, I've a very special show 
planned for the Herr Major's enjoyment! Claudine, ma belle poule, show the 
Herr Major and his friends to Table Number One, and then serve them a bottle 
of 1939 Moet Chandon-it's beautifully dry, Herr Kommandant!" 

At his call, a slim honey-haired young woman came forward, clad in an 
off-the-shoulder red silk blouse and short green silk skirt which descended 
only to mid-thigh. Through the thin silk, one saw the shadow of a very brief 
net bra, and her sleek, sinuous legs were sheathed in clockwork black lace 
hose, her feet shod in sharp-heeled silver-hued pumps. Judith started, her 
eyes widening, as the cabaret girl bowed to the florid, corpulent Nazi 
officer whose arm Judith clung to, then flashed her an almost imperceptible 
smile as she turned to lead the way. 

There were some twenty tables in the cabaret section beyond the bar, and at 
the very front, a platformed stage with a purple curtain hung over it. From 
the ceiling, indirect soft blue lights cast a kind of atmospheric illusion, 
as if there were no war and the City of Lights was, as eternally, its 
ribald, witty Gallic self. "I'll bring the champagne directly, Her Major," 
the slim blonde whispered as she herself drew out the chair and seated the 
Gestapo chief. 

"Herr Cott, you're a pretty piece, Liebling. I don't remember seeing you the 
last time-let's see, that was about two months ago, wasn't it, Burger?" 

"Yes, Herr Kommandant. But you'll remember M'sieu Lartrier said one of his 
girls was going to get married and leave the profession and that he planned 
to let his petite amie take her place-er, he mentioned she was a blonde, 
Excellenz." 

"Ach, that would explain it then. Very smart of you to remember, Burger. So 
that traitorous little hunchback is sticking his cock into that pretty young 
lady's cunt, is he, the lucky dog! Burger, one of these days, if you 
continue to keep your eyes open this way, you might just find yourself 
attached to the Gestapo." 

"Oh, I don't deserve such an honor, Her Major! I'm just being a loyal 
soldier, that's all." 

"Again, you're too modest, my boy. Besides, it's not right to let the SS 
hoard all the best soldiers. We of the Gestapo do far more vital work for 
the glory of our beloved Fuhrer! Ah, there's Major Wenzel at the table in 
back of us, and Hauptmanns Bartig and Deutsch, and that handsome 
Oberleutnant all the girls are crazy about in Berlin, they tell me. Time 
enough for socializing after the show, before the boys go upstairs with 
their obliging poules, eh, Burger? Tell you what-I'm going to let you have 
Julia here just once tonight, I want to watch your technique anyway, and 
it's just a little bonus for keeping your wits about you, Burger." 

"Ohh!" Judith Arnheim could not suppress the shocked, shamed gasp which 
sprang to her lips at hearing so callous a disposal of her body. 

Glancing nervously around, she saw over a dozen field-gray uniforms, none 
with lower rank than that of Oberleutnant, though two of the officers had 
brought their Orderlies with them and three others their own Parisian 
mistresses-girls willing to "fraternize" in return for food and security for 
themselves and their families. Four pretty hostesses, dressed very much like 
Claudine, were busy serving these honored guests, for tonight was a command 
performance and no other clients would be admitted to the Cabaret Etoile. 

"Not bad champagne," Vertmeyer smacked his lips and nodded to the 
honey-haired girl who had just filled his glass. "Try it, Burger. Put you in 
the mood to show me how good you are with our obliging little Jewess here. 
Ach, she's blushing, the dear child! Well, you see, confidentially, Burger, 
she's taken a special liking to me the past few nights, and I do believe 
she's just a bit jealous. Liebchen, don't pout, your old Vater Dietrich will 
be there watching, he'll even hold your hand while Burger gives it to you!" 
the Major guffawed with a broad wink at the bespectacled private who had 
lifted his glass to toast his commanding officer. 

"But I wouldn't dream of being so ambitious, Excellenz-I mean, she's your 
personal property and I'm only a lowly soldier, Herr Major," Burger fidgeted 
in his chair and looked uncomfortable. 

"I told you, tonight, we're two men of the world, Burger. That's an order. 
Verdammte, if I tell you to fuck a sow at the camp, you do it readily 
enough. So if I say I want to see you give to my pretty little Liebchen 
here, that's an order too-halts Maul now, the show's going to start!" 

He leaned back in his chair, chuckling with anticipation, glanced at the 
scarlet-faced young woman beside him, put his left arm around her waist and 
hugged her, then whispered hoarsely, "No need to be so shy, Schatzi. You can 
pretend it's your own Vater Dietrich fucking you if you like, and besides, 
it'll please me too-now, you want that don't you?" 

"Of-of course, I do, dear Vater Dietrich," Judith falteringly whispered 
back, "but I'm saving all my love for you, you know that. It's only that I 
didn't want you to think I'd be unfaithful to you -I'm so grateful for all 
you'ved one." 

"Of course you are, and you should be. Now, shh, the show's beginning! I'm 
willing to bet it'll get that sweet tight cunt of yours wet and hot enough 
to take on all the good German pricks in the cabaret!" he sniggered. 

The blue lights had dimmed, the curtain risen, and there came the sound of 
the beating of a drum. A tall Sengalese, wearing only a loincloth, emerged 
from one of the wings, seated himself tailor-fashion at the back of the 
little stage, put the small hand drum between his legs and picked up a small 
silver flute from its open case on the floor before him. Then he began to 
beat the drum with his left hand while, putting the flute to his mouth with 
his right, he began to play a repeated three-note tune. 

The buzz of conversation at the other tables died away, and a murmur of 
lecherous admiration greeted a tall brown-skinned Algerian girl, her thick 
black hair falling below her hips, clad in only a robe made of silver 
sequins. She wore silver bracelets and anklets, her face with insolent and 
sensual with its high-set cheekbones, sloe-shaped dark-brown eyes and 
overripe small red mouth. From the opposite wing of the stage, there 
suddenly appeared a tall bearded Arab, naked save for loincloth and sandals. 

As the flute grew shriller and faster in its repetitious tune, the dancer 
flung off her robe to the very first table, where Kommandant Vertmeyer 
caught it, rose and bowed with a leer. For the girl was naked, the uptilting 
gourds of her titties were brazenly widely spaced and firm, her nipples ripe 
and crinkly, set in dark-brownish aureola. Her navel was tiny but deep, but 
all eyes were on her cunt: it was hairless and the lips had been tinted 
purple. Her long lissome thighs, the sensuous curves of her high-set sinuous 
calves, and, as she turned, the ripplingly muscled, tight and lasciviously 
jutting oval cheeks of her behind with its broadening crease, as well as her 
smooth, deeply hollowed back, proclaimed the body of a houri skilled in all 
the arts of draining the male prick. 

The bearded Arab flung aside his loincloth, his prick in the savage erection 
of eight full inches, the plum-shaped head emerging hugely from the 
drawn-back foreskin. 

Now the drum and the flute accelerated their tempo, and the naked girl 
raised her arms as high as they would go, fingers curved like the talons of 
a beautiful bird of prey, while her body bent forward from the waist, 
abdomen and cunt thrust out as if to invite the magnificently virile prick 
of her male partner. 

Slowly straddling her legs, she began to rotate her hips in licentious 
movement, keeping in time with the rhythm of the drum, while her beautifully 
brown-sheened, hard-nippled titties jiggled and jounced in magnificent 
resilience. 

The naked Arab spread his knees and squatted, his arms describing whirling 
circles, his eyes rolling in lewdly eloquent avowal of his desire for her. 

There were shouts and obscene orders greeting this lewd dance of lust from 
the entranced Nazi officers. Blonde Claudine had moved to the very first 
table and set down another bottle of champagne, uncorking it and whispering 
to the Major, "Compliments of the house, Excellency!" 

Dietrich Vertmeyer glanced round, then his eyes narrowed and his fleshy lips 
curved in a lecherous smirk. "Come back when this show is over, Liebchen," 
he sniggered. "I'll be ready for you then." Then he turned back to follow 
the erotic tableau. 

The girl, Aischa, had turned her back to the audience and was squatting, and 
they saw her jutting buttocks tighten and contract to expose the dainty, 
petulant pink-lipped orifice of her butt hole, while the Arab faced her, 
leaping about on his heels from squatting position, his hands cupping her 
breasts. 

She arched to him, then drew back, uttering savage little cries, which he 
echoed with growls of lust. Drum and flute reaching their crescendo, he 
suddenly seized her and flung her on her back. Instantly her nimble long 
legs clamped over his spine as she glued herself to him, lifting herself 
from the floor and impaling herself on his massive prick. 

As the dance ended amid thunderous applause, Dietrich Vertmeyer leaned 
towards Judith, his left hand shoving under her skirt, on up to the thick 
fleece of her quivering cunt. "Would you mind if I spent a few minutes with 
the dancer, Liebchen? Tell you what, you go upstairs to the private room 
I've had engaged for us, and Burger can start having his fun. Only tell him 
to hold off the main event till I've finished with that swivel-hipped bitch 
without any hair on her cunt-that way, I'll be back in time to see how you 
two get along on a real bed, and it'll work me up to show Burger that, after 
all, a private can't come close to a Gestapo Kommandant when it's a matter 
of giving a bitch what she really wants, richtig, little one?" 

"Y-yes, if that's the way you want it, Vater Dietrich," Judith faintly 
stammered. She saw the bespectacled private shoving back his chair, eyeing 
her greedily with a knowing wink, and, desperately, turned round to look 
back at the other tables. The scantily clad, provocatively lovely French 
girls who had been serving them were seated on the officers' laps, arms 
wound round their necks, exchanging kisses and caresses. And then, suddenly, 
she saw the slim honey-haired hostess turn away from a laughing orderly and 
make a sign to her, gesturing with her thumb to the right and back. 

The corpulent Kommandant had clumsily up the few short wooden steps at the 
side of the platform stage and disappeared into the nearest wing. "Let's go, 
Dreck," Burger whispered, taking her by the elbow. "You heard the Herr 
Major. Goff, I can hardly wait-seeing that dance got my prick up in a hurry, 
I can tell you. Trouble is, I'll have to hold back till the Herr Major comes 
in to watch, but it'll be nice to stretch you out on a nice soft bed instead 
of on the floor, nicht wahr?" 

"All-all right, I-I'll do what you want, Herr Korporal," Judith's heart had 
begun to race wildly. "Can I-may I please-go to the toilet? You know, it 
isn't only you men who get excited watching something like that. Why, my 
p-pussy got all wet just sitting there while they were-you know." She 
demurely lowered her eyes as her voice trailed off. 

"Fucking, bitch, fucking," Burger leeringly mouthed. "All right, go piss if 
you have to. I'm standing outside the door, though, and no tricks. One false 
move, and his Excellenz is going to have you out over that block in the hot 
sun of the compound so fast you won't have time to spell your Jewish name." 

"I-I'll hurry-I-I want to find out myself what-what it'll be like with you 
in bed, Herr Korporal," Judith huskily whispered, and put one hand to his 
swollen fly. 

"Well now, Dreck, seems you've learned some cute tricks up there in the Love 
Nest attic, damned if you haven't! Hurry up, and be sure to wipe your Jewish 
pussy nice and clean. I want a nice dry hole to shoot my cum into," he 
growled as she blushingly nodded and pushed open the door of the room marked 
"Dames" in the narrow hallway to one side and behind the little bar. 

As she entered one of the stalls and closed the door, she heard a whisper 
from the one to her left. "Judith? It's Claudine. We've been praying you'd 
get out somehow. Did you meet Laure and Paulette at Choiseul?" 

"Yes-but Paulette's dead. Vertmeyer was torturing her, and she bit into the 
cyanide hidden in a tooth." 

"Poor girl-but it was the mercy of the bon Dieu she still had it hidden. 
Now, what about Laure?" 

"She's in the cell block next to mine. I gave her the message." 

"Good! And did she give you one for us?" 

There was a loud banging on the door, and Burger's irritated voice calling, 
"Schnell, Jewess, you've had time enough to wipe your pussy by now, I want 
you!" 

"I-just a minute, I'll be right there, Korporal darling, I promise, and I'll 
be specially sweet to you," Judith called back. Then hastily she whispered, 
"I don't know what she meant, but Laure said the eagle should soar under the 
roofs of Paris." 

"That's it, that's it!" Claudine excitedly hissed. "Sous les toits de Paris, 
that's one of our cabaret songs. And it means Max's gold is hidden somewhere 
under the roof of the warehouse. Oh, Judith, God bless you-you'd better go 
now, he's hammering again! One last thing, have you met any of the others, 
among the prison personnel?" 

"Why-why yes, the-the matron who guarded us the first night I was in there-" 

"Gerda Hartnaur, yes, she's one of them. Now listen, if you have to go back 
to Choiseul, tell her to pull the coffin act with you. Hurry, before he 
comes in here!" 

"Here I am, Korporal-I-I'm sorry," Judith stammered blushingly as she opened 
the door and looked up coquesttishly at the sullen-faced private. 

"You'll pay me a little for all that waiting on your wet pussy, Jewess," he 
scowled at her. "Come along now. I want some time to fool with your the way 
his Excellenz probably does, before he comes huffing and puffing in and 
wants to fuck you!" 

Muttering an oath under his breath, he seized her wrist, twisting it 
spitefully, and fairly dragged her up the stairs and down the narrow hall to 
the last door at the right, opened it and shoved her inside. "Off with that 
skirt and blouse and into bed, and don't take as much time doing it as you 
did pissing, bitch, or I'll take my belt to your big ass!" he threatened. 

"Yes, yes, of course I will, I want you to have me, Korporal darling." 
Judith's voice was low and seductive as she unbuttoned the skimpy blouse and 
let it fall, turning to him to show him the proud firm full globes of her 
superb ripe-nippled titties. Then, with a soft giggle, coyly turning to one 
side, she unfastened the skirt and let it slide partway down her hips, then 
shoved it down because of its tightness till it festooned her ankles. 
Stepping out of it, in only hose, rosette garters and pumps, she felinely 
moved to the broad double bed, put one knee on it, looked back archly over 
her shoulder at him and whispered, "Aren't you going to get naked too, 
Korporal? It's lots nicer that way." 

"Teufel, no, it wouldn't be right, not in the presence of the Kommandant, 
but I'll make you feel me, don't worry, Jewess. And when he comes in, are 
you going to get a fucking, are you ever going to get it!" Burger snarled as 
he unbuttoned the fly of his trousers, pulled out his swollen cock, and 
moved to the bed, his eyes glittering behind the spectacles. 

Flinging himself down beside her, he turned to squeeze her titties with both 
hands, smirking at her. "Yes, I'll agree the bed's a great improvement. 
Start cuddling me. Put your hands on my face, kiss me, put your tongue in my 
mouth. Show me some of the tricks he's taught you, hein?" 

"Of-of course I will, I-I want to, Korporal," Judith murmured as her soft 
trembling fingers brushed his flushed cheeks. 

"Call me Heinz, my first name, pretend I'm your boyfriend, we're engaged and 
you haven't had a fucking years, verstehe?" he ordered. 

"Yes, yes, dear Heinz, I need it so, you don't know how much-you know why I 
was such a naughty girl and stayed there till I thought you'd come in and 
get me?" She wriggled closer to him, stroking his forehead and ears and 
neck. 

"I damned near did, bitch. Well, why'd you take so long, then?" 

"Can't you guess? I mean, I know you're only a Korporal now, but-but, well, 
you're young and strong-and he's an old man, not half as nice-looking as 
you, and your c-cock is so much bigger and harder-so I was teasing myself by 
making you wait, because I'm just as hot as you are for it, dear Heinzl! She 
purred. 

"If I told the Herr Major what you just said about him, your Jewish ass 
would be flayed raw!" his hand glided over her jutting round velvety 
buttocks, stroking, patting, insinuating a forefinger's tip into the sinuous 
groove between them, his other hand cupping one of her titties as he brushed 
her eyelids with his lips. 

Judith shivered voluptuously at the unexpected tenderness of that caress. 
"But-but you won't, will you, Heinzl darling? I'll be ever so good to you if 
you won't, hm, promise me, sweetheart?" She put a hand on his massively 
swollen cock, closing her soft palm gently over it. 

"We'll see about that after I've fucked you-oh, Herr Major-I didn't expect 
you back so soon-" Burger gawked at his commanding officer, who had just 
flung the bedroom door open and stood glowering at the scene on the bed. 
Hastily, the bespectacled private swung his legs over the edge, his prick 
bobbing out of his open fly, but Dietrich Vertmeyer put out a gloved hand: 
"Nein, nein, Burger, stay where you are! That filthy Bedouin bitch had the 
gall to tell me she was married to that filthy brute who fucked her on the 
stage and couldn't let any other man have her, it was against her religion! 
Verruckte Hure! Well now, Burger, you go ahead, don't be bashful. I want to 
see just how you fuck a Jewish sow!" His face was malevolent, florid, and 
Judith felt a sudden inexplicable premonition take possession of her. 

"With your permission, if you're sure, Herr Kommandant?" Burger 
apologetically offered. 

"Dummer Esel, didn't you hear me say to get on with it? No delicacy, Burger, 
treat her as you would an enemy of the Third Reich-you have my 
permission--no, meine Ordnung!" He took off his right glove and smacked it 
angrily against his thigh. 

"Very well, then. All right, Julia, open those legs and get ready," Heinz 
Burger growled as he turned back to the naked raven-haired young woman. 

Judith Arnheim docilely stretched her round thighs widely apart and put her 
arms to him. His eyes cold and hard behind the spectacles, the lanky private 
mounted her, slipping his hands under her buttocks, and thrust his violently 
empurpled, throbbing prick against her soft pink cuntal lips, forcing 
instant entry. With a grunt of pleasure, he hiked himself to the balls. 
Judith shuddered, closed her eyes and clasped him in her arms, possessed 
inexplicably now by a sudden yearning, even knowing that this act of lust 
was taking place before the depraved and vicious Gestapo chief and at his 
order. Her loins felt hot; a churning, throbbing eagerness cumulatively grew 
deep within her warm tight young cunt. "Ohh, Heinzl," she whispered, 
stricken with the awareness of her sudden passionate response, tightening 
her lovely bare arms around his shoulders, feeling his wiry fingers 
mercilessly dig into her tender velvelty buttocks-which, too, inflamed her 
surging ardor. Now, as if her body alone had force and will and totally 
ignored her mind, her stocking legs fiercely clamped over his thighs as she 
arched her tingling, feverishly wakened cunt up to absorb every inch of his 
ferocious swollen prick. 

"Ja, you Jewish Dime, fuck," Burger hoarsely panted, "Gott, your cunt lis 
like a vise, it's squeezing my cock, it wants to break it off and keep it in 
there, doesn't it? I'll give you cock till it comes out of your asshole, 
bitch-ahh-ughh-ohh you heisses Dreck, you Jewish sow, fuck-I'll make you 
cum, I swear I will!" 

He began to cram her with jostling, gouging digs, buffeting her writhing 
naked body, which only clung the more avidly to him as his climax neared. 
Vertmeyer, hoarsely wheezing with rut, had opened his trousers and drawn out 
his heavy prick, fondling the foreskin with gloved left thumb and 
forefinger, standing beside the bed, following the intensely cohesive act 
with blazing, narrowed eyes. 

"Ohh-Heinz-ahh-now-yes-ohh God, faster-ahh, I'm cummmming," Judith shrilly 
wailed, clawing at the soldier's back with her raking fingernails, her head 
flinging back, eyes straining at the ceiling, sobbing as her body quaked 
with the tumultuous spend that followed instantly his furious spattering 
drench deep within her seething cuntal sheath. 

With a satiated groan, Burger got to his knees, his prick limpened and 
stickied, sheepishly grining at the Gestapo chief. "Excuse me, Ezcellenz, 
I-er-I wasn't trying to show off-" 

"Verdammte, didn't I say I ordered you to do it? Have you gone and lost your 
wits over a tricky little Jewess Dreck who's much too clever for her own 
good?" Vertmeyer snarled, livid with rage as he advanced to the head of the 
bed, bent down and twisted Judith's touseled black silky curls in his right 
hand, back handing her across the mouth with his gloved left hand. 

"Aii-oh, please, lieber Vater Dietrich-" she cried out in agonized 
consternation. 

"Genug von alles Schweinerei, you whore, you lying, filthy, cunning sow!" he 
bellowed, again back handing her and this time drawing blood from her upper 
lip. "Oh, it was a charming little game you played, and you acted very well, 
I compliment you. You belong on the stage of the Comedie Francaise, 
wirklich, only I'm afraid you'll never get that chance. Burger, do you know 
who this bitch really is?" 

"Julia Bentner, on the roster, Herr Kommandant, " Burger was stuffing his 
prick back into his pants and buttoning up. 

"Yes, that's what she'd love to have us all think," he jerked her curls, and 
Judith Arnheim uttered a shrill cry of pain, trembling fitfully, forced to 
sit up by the merciless traction on her tender scalp. "But you see, Burger, 
I've a fair memory-that's why I'm not in the SS, verstehe? Not long ago, I 
had a little session with two old Jewish pigs in my Peitschenzimmer, and 
before they died, they told me they had a daughter. One Judith Arnheim. Now, 
our efficient section can easily check passports, birth certificates and all 
the other documents which prove who a person really is, Burger. So it didn't 
take long to find out that this talented young actress who wanted so hard to 
love her kind old Vater Dietrich happens to be the only spawn from those two 
accursed Juden. More than that, this bitch knows, I'm convinced more than 
ever, what happened to a certain large sum in gold francs which her dirty 
Jewish sweetheart, one Max Blenheim by name, managed so far to hide from the 
Gestapo." 

"Heilischer Gott, Herr Kommandant!" Burger gasped, crossing himself, "she's 
fooled all of us- oh, the whore, I ought to have thrashed her to death-" 

"No, no, Burger, meine guter Knabe, it's a good thing you didn't. Oh, not 
that the Dreck doesn't deserve it-but this time, yes, my sweet Tochterin, 
you and I, we're going back to Choiseul, and there, down in the basement 
where your ladyship got so excited watching a French whore wriggle in the 
accommodation chair, we shall have a little game of questions and answers. 
Take her, Burger, naked as she is, she'll be readier for interrogation!" 

Judith uttered a heartrending cry of despair as the grinning private tugged 
off his belt, buckled it rightly round her wrists, then grabbing one of her 
titties, squeezed and twisted it till, sobbing with intolerable pain, the 
naked young woman slipped out of bed and, huddling herself, writhing under 
the sadistic, squeezing hold he had of her, followed him and the Gestapo 
chief down the stairs and out to the limousine. There, shoved into the 
backseat, with Vertmeyer beside her, an arm round her waist and leering at 
her, she was driven back under a dark, moonless sky to the Arbeits Lager at 
Choiseul. 

 CHAPTER TEN 

It was well after midnight when the limousine passed through the 
sentry-guarded gates at Choiseul. Burger was first out of the car, to open 
the door for the glowering Kommandant, who, gripping Judith by the scruff of 
her neck with one hand, slapped her cheeks viciously with the other as he 
snarled, "Raus mit Ihnen, Hure! Your old Vater Dietrich is very angry with 
his little Tochterin-and d'you know, whore? It's because you're such a 
predious liar! Ah, but you remember what I said to you in the Love Nest, 
hein, little one? A little spanking to make you hot. Only this time, it 
won't be so little. Burger, who's the duty matron tonight in the basement?" 

"Hartnaur, Excellenz." 

"Perfect! She's the one I can trust to keep her mouth shut. And you too, 
Burger." 

"That's kind of you to say, Herr Major, but I really don't-" 

"Listen, man, you know that Volkman is always giving himself airs. Well now, 
if he finds out it took so long for the Gestapo chief of the Paris district 
to ferret out a dirty little liar and traitress, it might get back to 
Berlin, verstehen Sie, meine Knabe? Now, if you're the smart Feldwebel I 
think you really are, Burger, you and I and Fraulin Hartnaur can handle this 
dirty little whore between the three of us. And-er-when our little Judith 
decides to tell us where the gold francs are, it's just possible there might 
be a few thousand of them for you, my boy. See what I mean?" His tone had 
become wheedling, sly and soft. 

"Well, maybe-it's irregular, Herr Major-" Burger said doubtfully. 

"Naturlich, it's irregular, you Esel! Listen, Burger, there's half a million 
in gold francs, understand? Now everyone thinks it's gone for good- so 
whatever we get back, is so much unexpected profit for the beloved 
Vaterland, you follow me? And if a little should be missing when it's turned 
in, who's to know what the actual amount was? After all, our little actress 
won't be able to tell anyone. Now, Feldwebel Burger, are you going to help 
me?" 

The bespectacled private whom Vertmeyer had just promoted to sergeant, 
saluted smartly, clicking his heels together. "At your orders, Herr 
Kommandant!" 

"Good boy! Now, let's get her inside and down to the basement, and have 
Hartnaur come with us," Dietrich Vertmeyer beamed, glancing avidly at the 
tottering, half-fainting naked young woman whose neck he still grasped with 
his gloved hand. 

At her desk, Gerda Hartnaur gazed at the dark cells where the latest batch 
of recruits for Choiseul lay sleeping, or sobbing pitifully in their anxiety 
over their fate on the morrow. She sprang to her feet as the corpulent 
Gestapo chief came down the stairs, followed by Burger, who, one hand 
griping Judith's belt-strapped wrists behind her back, smirkingly fondled 
her titties and whispered dire threats of what awaited her as he led her 
carefully down the steps. 

"Ach, gut, Fraulein Hartnaur. I've need of you. Leave these sows here, 
they'll be safe enough. I want you with me in the interrogation chamber." 

"At once, Excellenz. May I be permitted to ask what service will be 
required? I shouldn't leave my post, you see, the Herr Oberleutnant-" 

"Zum Teufel with that jackass, Hartnaur! I am Kommandant here, not he! You 
will witness the confession of a dirty little Jewess who is going to tell us 
where a certain very large sum of stolen money is, money belonging to the 
Third Reich. And, being a woman, you will know how much pain she can stand 
and whether her suffering is real or acting-ach, your wouldn't believe how 
cleverly she's made us believe some of her acting, Hartnaur. Come, 
schnell-you, Burger, if she won't walk by herself, carry her-her account's 
long overdue!" 

He led the way, slapping a glove excitedly against his thigh, to the chamber 
where Pauline Cressy had so valiantly endured torture till she could bear no 
more. "Now, Judith Arnheim, your time has come. It's just possible I may let 
you live a little longer-providing you tell us where the Blenheim gold is 
hidden," he growled. 

"I-I can't-I never did know that-even my poor parents, whom you murdered, 
didn't know-and if I did, I'd die before I told a filthy monster, a pervert, 
an insane lunatic like you!" Judith raised her head, dried blood caked on 
her upper lip, to gasp out contemptuously. 

Vertmeyer's face turned purple. He took a step forward, drawing his Luger 
from his holster, then chuckled, shoved it back. 'Ach nein, little one- that 
too was most ingenious. You would enrage me so I'd shoot you, give you a 
quick death, vielleicht? It won't be that easy. I think a good little 
spanking first, jawohl. Only, not on the ass as you might have expected, 
Fraulein, gnadige Fraulein Judith," he gave her a mock bow, his mouth 
twisted and wet. "No, I think it's highly appropriate that your little 
spanking be to that part of you which has been most used in your charming 
drama-your kootzely, your filthy Jewish sow's cunt!" 

He paused for a moment to let his words sink into her reeling brain, then 
turned to the fat matron. "Hartnaur, isn't it true that a few good lashes of 
the whip between a bitch's legs will make her talk faster than anywhere 
else?" 

"Assuredly, meine Kommandant." 

"There, you see, Fraulein Judith? She's a woman, so she knows. Very good. 
Burger, see those hooks there on the opposite wall? Take this whore, get 
that short ladder and you, Hartnaur, hold her against the wall while Burger 
ties her wrists to the hooks. That'll make her dangle in the air facing the 
good whip, so she can see where each guter Schlage is going to touch her up, 
ha ha ha!" 

Burger unstrapped the belt and dragged Judith to the wall, while the matron 
stood facing her, holding the Kommandant's Luger at her belly while the 
gangling private pulled up the ladder, mounted it after tying a hempen cord 
around Judith's left wrist, then hauling it brutally after him till with a 
cry of agony, she was partly hoisted aloft. 

"Not so comfortable as the Love Nest, hein, Fraulein?" Vertmeyer taunted as 
he strode to the panoply of whips on the wall, and took down a short-handled 
leather dog whip with murderously tapering tip, about twenty inches long, 
its handle doubly thick and four inches in length. He whisked it about, 
chuckling to himself. Then he called impatiently, "Get the whore up there, 
Burger, don't take all night about it, Knabe!" 

"Just about finished, Herr Major-there, she's ready now!" Burger called as 
he dismounted from the ladder and shoved it away. Judith dangled naked but 
for hose and rosette garters, her feet twisting three feet off the floor, 
all her weight bearing down from her hemp-bound wrists which were corded to 
the heavy metal hooks set into the wall. 

"Ah, that's the way I want this bitch," Vertmeyer panted as he stripped off 
the heavy coat of his officer's uniform and loosened his shirt collar. "Now 
then, Fraulein Judith, a little spanking, remember?" He moved slowly towards 
the twisting, writhing, naked raven haired captive, eyes blazing with 
ferocious hatred and lust, lifting the whip up in his right hand. Playfully 
he flicked its sharply tapered tip against her kneecap, then the other leg 
at mid thigh. "That's just a sample," he sniggered as she gasped and 
twisted, her body shuddering from the violent stress on all her muscles. 
"Because it's-here-where you're going to get your spanking, ja, till you 
talk, Jude!" The whip flicked out, its vicious little tip smacking right 
against the petulant, pink lips of Judith Arnheim's vulva. 

"Ahrr-ohh my God-oh, ohh God, the pain!" she could not help crying out 
stridently, for it was far worse than the strap on her bottom. Wildly she 
kicked, twisting this way and that, her wrists aching agonizingly, her head 
rising and falling. 

"Ah ha, you felt it, hein, Liebchen? But that was only a tiny little 
lovetap, not even worthy of being called a spanking. Wait-what about this 
one?" Moving slightly to his left, he raised the whip, then stepped forward 
and sent the tip darting at the apex of her pink cunt, biting the 
indescribably sensitive clitoris. 

"Aiiiiieeeeeouuuuu! Ohhh God, oh God, kill me and have done, I know nothing 
about the money!" Judith shrieked, beside herself. The hellish burning of 
that perfidious lash made her kick wildly, threshing her lovely stockinged 
legs, her heels banging against the wall of the interrogation chamber, her 
head turning poignantly from side to side, her eyes blinded by scalding 
tears. 

"Oh, there's no hurry, Schatzi, we've all night to play our little game," 
Vertmeyer thickly wheezed, stepping a little closer and playfully flicking 
the tip of the dog whip at her stocking toes. 

As she kicked out frantically, blinking her eyes to clear them, to have at 
least the advantage of sight so she might see how to evade the infernal tip 
of that biting whip, Dietrich Vertmeyer reached out and caught her right 
foot with his left hand. "Now, now, Schatzi," he purred, his voice throbing 
with ferocious cruelty. 

But as he drew back the whip slowly, aiming it to the very center of the 
defenceless pink cunt, Judith Arnheim, summoning all her young strength, 
jerked her foot away, and swiftly clenched her calves around his fat neck. 

"Ach-ahhgghhh-Herr Gott-was machts-ouu-ahhhgghhh-hilfe-hilfe-" he wheezed, 
dropping the whip and plunging his pudgy fingers to her flexing stockinged 
calves. Drawing in a deep breath, her eyes hugely dilated, her superb round 
titties heaving, Judith clenched her muscles with all her might, heedless of 
the pain of his digging fingers as he fought madly to release that 
constricting embrace. 

"Ahhh-Burger-H-Hartnaur-hilfe-mich-Ich-sterbe-hi-hilfe-ahhhh-oughaaahhhghh-" 
he gurgled, his face turning purple. His fingers scrabbled at Judith's 
tightly clenching calves a last time, then his body slumped, and as she 
uttered a groan and relaxed the furiously aching tension of her shuddering 
legs, he tumbled to the floor, rolled onto his side and lay still. 

Burger hurried to his Kommandant, bent down, put a hand to his heart. "Done 
for," he pronounced. Then, turning to the wall, he hurried to the ladder, 
mounted it, while Gerda Hartnaur accompanied him to hold Judith's 
sweat-drenched, shuddering naked body while he slashed the hampen cords and 
eased the almost fainting young woman down to the floor. 

"Is-is he truly dead?" she whimpered, staring up at the two faces which 
unbelievably were smiling down at her. 

"Yes, le hon Dieu be thanked, and you've done France a service few men could 
have done," Gerda Hartnaur said softly as she stroked Judith's bruised, 
sweating, tear stained face. "Heinz, get water and a towel, and some brandy. 
There's work to be done. Now our fat pig here, as everyone knows, is much 
too fond of his swill. He's had a stroke before, you know, Heinz. Last 
October, I'm told, when he had one of his little Liebe sessions, as he liked 
to call them, before he was assigned here, he had a pretty bad stroke. I've 
got that from his private dossier-even Volkman doesn't know it. So no one's 
going to die because this pig met his proper end. And I've got a pass signed 
by his dead piggishness-oh, yes, I had him sign a requisition for more 
disinfectant the first week he toured Choiseul, and he didn't know it but 
there's a pass which can't be questioned even by Volkman. We can take Judith 
back to Paris-you'll do it, Burger, I'll tell them you've driven back to 
Paris to deliver the prisoners to Gestapo headquarters at Herr Vertmeyer's 
order and of course you weren't here when he died. Now, Judith, is there 
anyone else here you want to get out of the camp?" 

"Th-there's Laure Brindivin, in the block next to mine." 

"I'll get her myself, with this pass. Burger, first you take care of this 
brave girl." 

* * * 

It was nearly dawn of the same morning, in the camouflaged basement of the 
little warehouse next to the Cabaret Etoile. There had been a tearful 
reunion between Laure Brindivin and her cousin, Madeleine Artois, while 
Louisette and Claudine joined in the ecstatic greeting of their imprisoned 
comrade, now restored to the Maquis. Judith, wearing the coarse smock-dress 
of the prison camp, watched happily, and blushingly and modestly accepted 
the vervent praises and congratulations for what she had done to make 
Laure's escape possible and, best of all, for ridding France of a monster. 

"But-but where's the Eagle?" Judith anxiously asked as the girls began to 
leave via the dumbwaiter, to go back to the cabaret as they had told her, 
leaving only honey-haired Claudine, in her beret, man's trousers and work 
blouse. 

"Claudine'll tell you everything," they called as they said their goodbyes. 
And when at last the basement was empty, Judith turned to the young woman 
who had helped Pierre L'Aigle whip and rape her that very first day of her 
incredible adventure through the gates of hell. 

"I've got some good and some bad news for you, Judith honey," Claudine 
slowly approached the wide-eyed raven haired young woman. "Cigarette?" 

"Yes, thanks. What-what do you mean, Claudine?" 

"Well, first, about what went on back at the camp. You know by now that 
Heinz Burger is one of us. His grandfather was suspected of being Jewish-he 
wasn't-but they killed him about five years ago in front of Heinz. That's 
when he took a vow to do what he could to destroy Nazi evil. But anyhow, 
since Hartnaur's helping, too, just thought you'd like to know, it's all 
down pat-I mean, Vertmeyer's stroke. You see, Carla, your blockova, 
volunteered to take a whipping, so Hartnaur got her in there, tied her up, 
peeled her down, and then, after a few cuts, yelled bloody murder. Well, 
when the soldiers came down, Hartnaur was blubbering that the Herr 
Kommandant was doing the whipping himself and all of a sudden he keeled 
over. So they believed it." 

"Oh, thank God, thank God for all those brave women!" Tears glistened in 
Judith's eyes. 

"Amen to that. Now-well, here's the bad news." Claudine looked down at the 
floor, put her hands into her pockets, coughed and scuffed one heavy work 
shoe back and forth, strangely hesitant. 

"Tell me-what is it, dear Claudine?" 

"I'm not sure you'll be calling me dear any more honey. Well, that Max 
Blenheim of yours-you know?" 

"Yes, yes, oh what happened to him, where is he?" 

"I'd rather be shot than tell you, but I have to. You see, he really was in 
love with me. It's true. I was staying at Laure's, and when he ran away with 
the money, I told him about the Eagle and where we met, so one night Laure, 
he and I stashed it under the roof-it's still here, too, till we can take it 
out safely and use it to do France the most good. Then they picked up Laure 
and I got back here on my regular job in the cabaret. Max is in Switzerland 
by now, the darling, and when the war's over, I'll join him there. There, 
it's said. Want to claw my eyes out? I shouldn't blame you, not after what 
you went through." 

"No ... no ... I ... I don't know what to think, what to do now ..."she 
stood, shoulders slumping, drawing a deep shuddering breath, tears welling 
to her eyes. 

There was a crackling sound. The dumbwaiter had landed, and out of it 
stepped Henri Lartrier, the hunchback owner of Cabaret Etoile. 

"Here she is, Pierre, our little heroine, I've just told her everything," 
Claudine called gaily. 

"P-Pierre? But-but that's M'sieu Lartrier," Judith quavered. 

The hunchback straightened, chuckling, and seemed taller by magic; then he 
stooped, took off the ungainly right shoe to reveal a normally shaped foot. 
"The beard, alas, was a concession to the war, I'm afraid," he said in a 
voice that Judith Arnheim suddenly recognized, a hand to her gaping mouth. 

"You-you're one and the same," she breathed. 

"A good front, you'll have to admit. The Nazis still think I'm the most 
trustworthy collaborator in all Paris. So what better cover for L'Aigle, 
Judith girl?" 

"It-it's incredible-it's a dream-no, a nightmare-" she said dazedly. 

"No, a dream-the nightmare's over. And that reminds me, Judith. I seem to 
recall I told you at our first meeting that if I'd meet you anywhere else in 
peace time, I'd have taken longer with you." 

"Ohhhh! Y-yes-I-I do-" 

"And Claudine's told you about Max, I imagine?" 

"Y-yes, she-I thought we were engaged-our parents wanted it to-I mean-" she 
faltered, turning suddenly very red in the face. 

"You were a virgin then and didn't know what you wanted. But you're a woman 
now, Judith, the kind of woman I want with me all the time while we fight to 
make France free again." 

"I-I don't know-what to-to say or think-I mean, I have to pick up my life-I 
don't know where to go-" Judith said dully. 

"Claudine, suppose you help me again with our little heroine. This is Maquis 
business after all," he chuckled, nodded. 

Claudine giggled as she suddenly, unexpectedly, grabbed Judith's wrists and 
dragged the young woman over to the same table over which the beautiful 
young brunette had been made to prove her guts to the darling leader of the 
underground. 

"No-what are you doing-stop it-oh no, you wouldn't-oh, I refuse-it's over, 
I-nooooo, stop it-noooo, don't pull my dress up-ohhhh!" For the suave 
handsome wiry head of the Maquis had lent Claudine a hand, and Judith 
Arnheim found herself lying belly down on the table, her coarse dress 
hoisted to her armpits, while Claudine nimbly sat down astride the middle of 
her back, facing her round olive-sheened bottom. 

"Now, Judith Arnheim," the honeyhaired girl giggled, "I'm going to spank you 
good and hard on that big bottom of yours till you beg Pierre very nicely to 
give you a good, hot and very long fucking, compris?" 

"Ohhh, this is impossible, I won't do any such thing, I-owww, that hurts!" 
Judith protested as Claudine brought her right palm down with all her might, 
flattening Judith's luscious satiny left bottom summit. 

"Pierre, if you've any decency-I've done more than anyone could expect, 
I-I've been a whore to lots of men-even to that murderer who killed my 
parents-this is shameful of you-I won't-aii-ohh, oww, you're hurting me!" 
For only Claudine's vigorously smiling palm answered Judith's scandalized 
and mortified appeals to the tall man who stood laughing and watching her 
voluptuous naked behind wriggle and flatten, tighten and yawn, her long legs 
flailing in the air. 

"Hand me that lath, Pierre, that's a darling, she's got such a big fat hard 
bottom, she's wearing out my poor little hand," Claudine gaily called as she 
applied a sly little pinch to the shadowy groove between Judith's furiously 
reddened bottom globes. 

"Ohhhhoowouuu-no, don't you dare spank me with that-Pierre, it's not fair, 
it's cruel-ohh, ohh my Lord, it hurts awfully-owww, ohh, noo, eeee-stop 
it-oh please have her stop, Pierre!" Judith soon dissolved into tears and 
choking sobs as, having tossed the lath to the honey haired young woman, the 
latter applied a good dozen resounding swats over the plump curves of 
Judith's furiously discolored, lunging, weaving, bare behind. 

"You can stop it any time you want, petite, all you have to do is beg him to 
give you a very good long hot fuck, d'est tout!" Claudine merrily retorted, 
patting Judith's wriggling posterior with lath. "I think maybe a dozen good 
hard ones ought to be good for starters. Of course, maybe you'll have to get 
me another lath, Pierre, her behind is so big it doesn't have any feeling-" 

"Ohhh, you-you horrid girl to say such dreadful things-oww, my poor bottom 
hurts so, truly, Pierre dear-oh have her stop, I can't-owwourrr, ohh nooooo, 
oh no more, pity-aii, yes, yes, yes, I'll say it, only stop!" as half a 
dozen more energetic spanks made burning impact with Judith's flaming 
behind. 

"Say it quick, I want to go get some sleep before tonight's show, then," 
Claudine prompted her victim with a diagonal smack over the upper thighs. 

"Yeowuuuuouuuu!! Ohh, Pierre, I want you to fuck me, oh please fuck me and 
end his awful sp-spanking!" Judith Arnheim wailed as she kicked her 
beautiful bare legs to and fro, still crushed down by Claudine's weight. 

His hands gently caressed her flaming, swollen buttocks. "That's a little 
more like it, Judith. But it's not exactly what Claudine told you to say, is 
it? Better lay on a few more, and harder, cherie!" 

"OH NOOOO!" Judith wailed frantically. "Oh, please, I want you to fuck me 
with all your might, and long, and make it ever so hot, please, because, 
oooh, I need it so right now to stop the pain of that awful sp-spanking!" 

"She didn't say because she's in love with you- think she ought to have a 
couple of swats for that, cheri?" Claudine pertly quieried. 

"No, love'll come later," the man known as Pierre L'Aigle grinned. "Or at 
least, after I grant her very fervent request, I've a feeling that we'll be 
on the right track for it. Tiens, Claudine, turn her over and pull that 
lousy concentration camp fashion frock off and burn it. Then you can get the 
hell out of here, ma belle." 

Claudine stuck her tongue out at him, as she scrambled off the table, and 
forced the still sobbing brunette young woman to roll over onto her swollen 
bottom after Claudine had tugged the coarse dress off and flung it onto the 
floor. Stooping to retrieve it, wadding it into a ball, she impishly cooed, 
"Can't I stay and watch the master at work?" 

"Careful now, Claudine, or I might just decide to wear out a lath on your 
own pretty fesses," the leader of the Maquis smilingly warned. "Fichesmoi le 
camp, tout de suite!" 

"Oh, all right, I'm going, I'm going. You know, Judith, he's slept with all 
of us. But it didn't mean anything. It was-well, like that first time with 
you, to test you. And since I'm Max's girl, you needn't be jealous of me 
with Pierre. Ta-ta, petite. We'll send a searching party down if you're not 
at the bar by six tonight." 

She vanished with a last wave of her hand. Pierre L'Aigle began to undress 
till he was naked to his socks, and slowly approached the table. Judith, 
squirming uneasily on her burning bottom, raised her head and uttered a cry 
of dismay. It seemed to her that his prick was really the biggest, the most 
formidable, the most angry-purplish-looking she had seen, even comparing it 
with all those which had used her soft cunt back at Choiseul. 

"Lift your legs in the air, Judith. The way they were the first time you had 
a man, remember?" he was grinning at her, and in spite of her exhaustion and 
the discomfort of her bottom and the dark shadows of that nightmare at 
Choiseul which had not yet entirely lifted-and would not till the Nazis at 
last were no longer able to bring death and extermination and torture to an 
enslaved Europe-she could not help but give him back a wan little smile. 

Slowly, blushing scarlet and closing her eyes- for it curiously swept back 
all her long-since-abandoned modesty to find herself stark naked like this 
with a naked man-Judith Arnheim raised her beautiful bare legs in the air 
and spread them apart, shivering, her nipples beginning to ache and harden, 
the pink lips of her cunt to twitch and grow suspiciously, tantalizingly, 
moist. 

"Hmm, not bad. But as I recall, I had the girls haul your gorgeous ass over 
to the edge of the table so I could get by becque into your sweet tight con 
without any trouble. And since the girls aren't here, would you mind awfully 
wriggling forward towards me a few inches more?" he chuckled. 

"You-you awful, hateful, wicked man you- you-you're almost as bad as they 
were," she panted, half-giggling, half-sobbing. Then, as he quickly stooped 
to pick up a lath and wave it menacingly over her upturned flaming bottom. 
"Noooo, I didn't mean it, oh won't you please just f-fuck me good and hard 
and take all the time you want, because the girls said you didn't have to be 
up at the bar till six this evening-oh, please, Pierre, darling, love me, 
fuck me, don't spank me, please, my dearest!" 

The lath dropped to the floor, and Pierre L'Aigle gripped Judith's round 
squirming naked hips, and lunged into the pink wet cleft of her yawningly 
inviting eager cunt. 

Judith covered her face with her hands, uttering a sobbing cry of utter 
ecstasy: "Ohhhahhh, yes, ohh my darling, ohh how good it feels, how big and 
hard your wonderful becque is, ohhhh I need it, oh hurry and fuck me now so 
you can take even more time when we do it again-oh, my sweet lover, I think 
I've wanted you to do this ever since you put me down on this same table 
what seems like an eternity ago-oooh, it's heavenly, ohh, harder, punish my 
naughty pussy-cram me, pierce me, fuck me good and hard-ohh, my darling, 
won't you please put your finger into my other little h-hole too, dearest?" 
she tremulously groaned. 

"I'll do better than that, you gorgeous poule who temporarily turned out to 
be the best Hure a nice decent Jewish girl ever made," he chuckled thickly 
as he dug his fingers into her bucking bare hips, cramming to and fro inside 
her churning young cuntal sheath. "I'll put my big becque in there next, and 
then you can decide which you like the better. But don't forget, Judith 
girl, we've got a long campaign ahead of us. We'll work, yes, and fucking by 
side till every filthy Nazi's long gone from Paris and all France." Slyly, 
he goosed her twitching butthole with the tip of his left forefinger, then 
slowly nudged it in between the quiveringly yielding lips. 

Judith's fingers crabbled along the table; her entranced, flushed face rose, 
eyes glowing and hugely widened: "Ohh y-yes, ahh, yes, ohh, it's just 
heaven-ohh, I want to feel your hot cum deep in me, lover-oh, darling, fuck 
your girl, I'll be your prisoner for life if you just keep fucking me this 
way-oohhh, Pierre, sweetheart, lover, angel, ahaaaaa, ohhh God, I'm 
cummmming so hard I'm going to faint, to die-oh I just can't bear how 
wonderful it is-ahhhh, darling, nowwww- oh let me feel your juice inside my 
cunt, my cunt, ohhh, flood me!" 

For a time-stopping moment, there was no war, no horror, no evil shadow of 
the swastika. There was only this finite, closed-in world, of the hard table 
rasping against Judith's swollen, throbbing, wriggling bare bottom, of her 
quaking, clenching cuntwalls gripping in loving adoration the hard-digging 
prick that shot hot ecstasy deep within her. It was the beginning, not the 
ending, for them both. 


End
