BDSM Library - Hitler's Secretary

Hitler's Secretary

Provided By: BDSM Library
www.bdsmlibrary.com



Synopsis: Caught up in the mass arrests after the July 20th, 1944 assassination attempt on Adolf Hitler, young Traudl Haber faces the most horrible death the Gestapo can devise for a supposed traitor.

The Standard Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction with content suitable only for adults (and stable ones at that). If you are prohibited from reading such material by the laws or standards of your community please depart immediately. Likewise, if you can't tell the difference between reality and fantasy kindly leave and seek professional help.

Historical note: Hitler's actual youngest secretary was Gertraud "Traudl" Junge. She survived the Battle of Berlin to be a primary source on life in Hitler's inner circle. Other than contributing a name she has no connection with this story, which ir purely fictional.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hitler's Secretary

by

von Hentzau

Part I

It was a warm, muggy early August afternoon when the dozen accused were led into the Berlin courtroom. To say they were accused was not entirely accurate. They were among the thousands who had been rounded up in the aftermath of the July 20 th plot against Hitler. Family, relatives, friends, even some who had barely been acquainted with the conspirators had been seized by the Gestapo. To merely have been seen saying "Guten morgen" in passing on the street was sufficient evidence of complicity to make one an "accused". And in this court, the court presided over by Dr. Roland Freisler, State Secretary of the Reich Justice Ministry, an accusation was no different than a conviction.

The soon-to-be-condemned were lined up and forced to endure a twenty minute harangue. The Reich prosecutors made a desultory show of presenting evidence, evidence which was accepted without examination. There were no defense counsels. One elderly man, dressed in ill fitting clothes and holding up his trousers with one hand because he had not been allowed a belt or suspenders, tried to speak in his own behalf. He was shouted down by Dr. Freisler, who then launched into another tirade. No one else attempted to defend themselves.

At the end of the row of row of prisoners stood Gertraud Haber, known as Traudl, looking disconsolate in her drab, rumpled gray prison issue dress. She felt doubly humiliated by the clothing she'd been forced to wear. She had not been allowed underwear and though just twenty she was quite shapely and very well endowed. She knew every male eye, and many of the female eyes, had been fixed on her bobbling chest as she walked into the courtroom.

But then she'd learned new definitions of humiliation since she'd been arrested a week ago. She'd been stripped and searched in full view of male Gestapo agents. Then she'd been tied to a chair and questioned for hours, all the while stark naked. They hadn't beaten her, since they knew she would have to go to court to be sentenced and the bruises wouldn't look good. Instead she'd been spreadeagled, still naked, on the bare metal springs of an army cot. Electrodes had been placed on her breasts. More electrodes had been inserted in her vagina and rectum. They asked for names. She tried to tell them she didn't know any. She tried to tell them she wasn't involved in the plot. And they shocked her and asked again. Hour after hour it went on until finally she screamed out names. She didn't know whose name she screamed out, or even if they were real names at all. All she knew was that they finally stopped hurting her and she was thrown in a cell, given a filthy rag of a dress to cover herself and left there until today, when she'd been pulled out of the cell and added to a line of prisoners being loaded onto a closed van for the trip to the courtroom.

Eventually Freisler had run out of invectives to throw at them. A clerk began reading off the names of the accused. After each Freisler intoned, first, "Guilty!" and then "sentence, death." After eleven sentences the clerk reached the end of the row.

"Haber, Gertraud," he read off.

"Guilty," said Herr Doctor Freisler. "Sentence, death. And given the peculiar circumstances of Fraulein Haber's case, where one who has been so trusted, so welcomed into the Fuhrer's inner circle and still has turned against our beloved Fuhrer, I feel more than justified in ordering death, with special treatment."

There was a rumble of whispering among the audience. The death sentence was what they had expected. Many had come today simply because Gertraud Haber was on trial. Little Traudl. Formerly Adolf Hitler's youngest, and many said most beautiful secretary, stood accused of complicity in the Stauffenberg Conspiracy. And now she stood condemned to death, with special treatment. The audience buzzed with speculation of what that meant.

The condemned were marched out of the courtroom, flanked by a dozen SS guards, and loaded back onto the closed van. It was but a ten minute trip across Berlin to the prison where the executions would be carried out. No one spoke. They all knew there would be no appeals. The executions would be carried out within hours. The only hope was that it would be by a quick bullet. Rumors had already circulated about the slow, agonizing deaths meted out to some of the captured ringleaders.

The van pulled into the prison yard. Guards helped each manacled prisoner down. They were lined up beside the van, Traudl at the end of the line again. A sergeant went down the line checking off names. When he got to Traudl he motioned to two of the waiting guards who stepped forward. He handed one a folded piece of paper, then he ordered the rest of the prisoners to left face and they were marched off.

Traudl's guards turned her the opposite way. They marched her towards a fenced off building. A guard at the gate opened it for them, then immediately closed it behind them. They entered the building, passing through the doors into a large caged area. A sign over the wire mesh door read "Special Section, Female". Two husky looking woman guards, one seated behind a desk, the other standing, waited there. A third, an officer by her uniform, was striding quickly down the hallway.

One of Traudl's guards passed the folded paper through a slot in the wire mesh partition. The woman at the desk picked it up, glanced at it quickly, then passed it to the officer who had just arrived. She also looked at it quickly, then motioned for the door to be opened.

"Excellent," she said to her underlings. "One of those filthy traitors, here for execution."

Traudl was passed through the door. The standing guard took her by the arm and without any further ceremony she was escorted down a long hallway, the officer leading the way. They passed a series of metal doors, each identified only by a number.

Near the end of the hallway they turned right and entered through a metal door into a drab yellow room. Traudl's heart almost stopped when she saw what the main, and except for several chairs, the only furnishing of the room was. Slightly off center, standing in a shallow depression in the concrete floor, was the German version of a Guillotine. Unlike the French version, which relied on weight and gravity to bring the blade down, this improved German model was powered by two beefy springs. As they entered a stocky man in prison guard uniform was raising the blade against the power of the springs, pumping on a long lever, like a jack handle.

A curious thing Traudl noticed about the Guillotine. The table portion had an oval opening towards the top, while a wide slit went from the far end to almost the middle. She wondered what purpose the openings served.

The man who was preparing the blade looked up as they a walked to one side of the execution machine. Traudl was struck by his small, expressionless pig-like eyes, set in a broad, bland pig-like face. Seemingly disinterested he went back to raising the blade. It was nearly to its highest position and it took placing all the weight he had against the lever to raise it the last few centimeters. He then set a trigger device, removed the lever and took up a position at the back of the room. There was another door there. Traudl wondered if that was the door they removed the bodies through.

"Strip her," the woman officer said.

Traudl's manacles were removed. The woman officer moved in front of her, glaring, as if to warn her of any attempt to resist. She was a large woman. Not fat. Just taller than average and strongly built. Traudl guessed that she could give many average men a stiff fight if it came to that.

The other woman stepped to one side and began undoing the row of buttons down the front of Traudl's dress. Then she pulled it back, dragging Traudl's arms behind her as she did. Not having been allowed underwear, Traudl was now standing naked and exposed. She glanced over at the pig-faced man. If he was paying any attention to the naked, buxom 20 year old woman he didn't show it. She wondered if he was the one who would trip the lever that sliced her head off. How many women had he seen naked, just before he took their heads off?

Expecting to be led to the Guillotine Traudl was surprised when instead she was forced to sit in one of the heavy, straight backed wooden chairs. Her wrists were tied with straps mounted where the back of the chair met the seat. The officer and the guard took up positions to either side of her.

Then they waited. Several times the door opened. Each time Traudl's heart missed a beat, thinking this was the person or persons they were waiting for to carry out her execution. But each time one or two people entered, men and women, some in uniform, some in civilian clothes. They took up positions either to the side of the device or against the far wall of the room.

"How much of an audience do they need for my execution?" Traudl thought nervously.

Then the door opened and two guards entered, escorting a woman. They stopped near the end of the Guillotine's table. The woman wore a rumpled gray prison dress, like Traudl had been wearing. Her wrists were manacled in front of her. She was barefoot and her head had been shaven. She showed signs of having been beaten, a swollen lip and a black eye. She looked to be early middle aged, perhaps mid-thirties. She had been attractive, before she'd been beaten.

One of the guards undid the prison dress. When it fell open Traudl was surprised to see that the woman pubis had been shaved as well. Not only was it shorn of hair, but her mons, belly and upper thighs were red, as if they'd been subjected to abuse. The guard undid her manacles and then removed the dress completely. As it came off Traudl saw that the entire front of the woman's body was criss-crossed with red whip marks. Her breasts, full and somewhat pendulous, appeared to have been cruelly battered.

No sooner had the dress come off than the woman's arms were pulled behind her back and doubled up, wrist to elbow. Leather straps fastened them in place.

Now one of the people who had entered the room earlier stepped forward. He was an older man, in civilian attire. He removed a piece of paper from his pocket, opened it up and started to read from it.

"Hanna von Sweringen," he read in precise, clipped Prussian accented German, "having been found guilt of treason against the Reich you have been sentenced to death. By the authority of the Reich Justice Ministry I hereby order that that sentence now be carried out."

He stepped back. The pig-faced man stepped forward. He was carrying something in one hand, though Traudl couldn't quite tell what it was. He stopped in front of the woman and got down heavily on one knee. One of the guards seized her arms as if concerned she might try to escape, though Traudl couldn't see how she could have any hope of that.

Traudl was surprised when the pig-faced man slipped two fingers into the woman's sex slit and began working them back and forth. What this had to do with execution she couldn't understand. The woman closed her eyes and turned her face away, flushing red with embarrassment as he seemed to concentrate more on her clitoris. Soon her crotch was glistening with her juices, unwillingly released.

Now he switched the device to his right hand and Traudl got a better look at it. The thing had a handle, like a flare gun, with a long lever for a trigger. For a barrel it had a shiny metal tube, 15 centimeters long and about 2 centimeters wide. A spring ran along the top of the tube, connected to a mechanism of some sort at the end.

The pig-faced man placed the end of the tube over the woman's clitoris and began pulling the trigger. There was a light sound of pumping and Traudl guessed that he was pumping air out of the cylinder, sucking the woman's clitoris and the flesh around it into the tube. For what purpose he did this she was afraid to think of. When the tormented woman started to moan the pig-faced man stopped pumping. He worked a small valve at the end of the tube, then detached the handle with a twist. The shiny silver tube was left hanging off her body at an angle like an obscene semi-erect phallus.

The two guards now walked the woman to the end of the Guillotine table. They helped her mount it, then helped her lay face down. Her head and neck extended past the end of the table. Straps were fastened across the small of her back, across her shoulders. Her legs were spread and strapped at thigh and ankle. Then the table was slid forward until her neck was under the blade and Traudl could no longer see her face. The high rim of the metal catch basket concealed the woman's head.

But beneath the table Traudl could see the woman's breasts dangling free through the opening. They swayed back and forth from the motion of the table sliding. Farther down the obscene metal tube bobbed slightly.

The pig-faced man went to stand next to the Guillotine, near the woman's rump. Without any commands he reached toward the edge of the table and pulled a small lever. A knife blade, almost too fast to see, emerged from under the table, whipped around horizontally and sliced off the woman's left breast. She screamed as the meaty globe fell to the concrete floor with a sickening squishy sound. Blood began to drip into the concrete depression beneath the table, running in a small stream to the drain in the center.

Traudl trembled at the thought that soon they would be doing the same to her. Did they do this to all their condemned prisoners, she wondered? Force them to watch another woman's execution, to torture them with the knowledge of the horrors about to be inflicted on them?

Pig-face had moved to the other side of the table now. He reached down. Traudl couldn't see the knife, but she saw the other breast drop and heard the woman scream again. Pig-face stepped back a couple paces. He reached between the woman's legs. Traudl saw his fingers wrap around the lower end of the metal cylinder. He seemed to hesitate for a moment though it might only have been to draw out the woman's torment longer.

There was metallic "snick", followed by the most horrific animal wailing sound Traudl had ever heard. The cylinder fell to the concrete floor, followed by a trickle of blood. Traudl knew what she had suspected but hadn't wanted to admit could be true. The device was used for severing a woman's clitoris. She cringed inwardly at the thought that any human could be so perverse, so sick as to conceive of such a torment.

There was only one last step in the execution sequence now. Traudl could hear the woman moaning lowly as Pig-face walked to the front of the Guillotine. He tripped a small lever and the blade snapped downward. The woman's sobs ended abruptly. The sound of her head striking the bottom of the metal basket seemed to echo in execution chamber.

Pale faced ands shaken Traudl stared at the floor while the witnesses filed out of the room. Pig-face unrolled a hose fastened to a spigot on the far wall and began running water into the depression beneath the Guillotine as the guard untied Traudl's wrists and helped her to her feet. She would have collapsed if the woman guard and a male guard who had remained after the execution didn't catch her.

"Come along, liebchen," the woman officer said. "Your time has not come yet. Though soon you may wish it had.."

To be continued..............

Copyright is claimed by the author. Permission to copy is granted solely for personal, non-commercial use.

The Standard Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction with content suitable only for adults (and stable ones at that). If you are prohibited from reading such material by the laws or standards of your community please depart immediately. Likewise, if you can't tell the difference between reality and fantasy kindly leave and seek professional help.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hitler's Secretary

by

von Hentzau

Part II

Traudl was led from the execution chamber and back up the hallway. The woman officer turned through a door into what proved to be a lavatory with a large shower area. A chair was placed in the middle of the shower room and Traudl forced to sit on it. Another female guard joined them, bringing clippers. In a few minutes Traudl's blonde hair lay on the floor. Soap and a razor were brought next and the stubble removed. But they weren't finished yet. Traudl was ordered to slide down on the chair and spread her legs. When she was slow in complying one of the guards pushed down on her shoulders while another guard and the officer spread her legs apart. Her crotch was soaped up and her pubic hair removed.

When the shaving was complete the grate over the shower room drain was removed. Traudl was forced to squat over the drain and she was given an enema. The woman guard charged with inserting the nozzle didn't appear to be very happy at her assignment and was less than gentle in carrying it out. After the first application Traudl was hosed off with cold water. And then she was subjected to a second enema.

"I don't want you crapping on my floors," the woman officer said as she observed the process, a smirk on her face.

The purging process complete Traudl was forced under a cold shower and then given a filthy towel to dry off with. Then her wrists were manacled behind her back and she was led out of the lavatory and back into the hallway. They turned in the direction of the execution chamber and Traudl thought "This is it." In a way she was glad they'd given her the enema, because her insides were in such a turmoil she might have soiled herself as she walked.

But before they reached the execution chamber the little group turned through a different door into a dark, windowless room. The woman officer flipped a light switch. In the center of the room two metal pillars, large diameter pipes really, ran from the bare concrete floor to the ceiling, three meters apart. About two meters above the floor a thinner pipe ran horizontally between the two pillars. A short step ladder stood between the two pillars.

Traudl looked around. The only other things in the room were some wall lockers and a low stool. She wondered what was supposed to take place here. There was no evidence of execution devices, none of the equipment she'd seen in the room where she'd been tortured. She didn't have to wait long to find out.

"Get her ready," the woman officer ordered. Then she went to one of the wall lockers.

Two of the guards escorted Traudl to the step ladder, where she was forced to mount it backwards until her shoulders were at the level of the horizontal pipe. Another guard returned from one of the lockers carrying a number of leather straps, with buckles. He picked up the stool on the way. Traudl was ordered to extend her arms along the pipe. Then the guard stepped up on the foot stool and began strapping her arms to the pipe. He placed straps at her shoulders, elbows and wrists, snugging each one down until it was impossible for her to move.

With Traudl fastened to the pipe the step ladder was pulled out from under her and she was left hanging, crucified.

The woman officer had returned, carrying a pair of short whips. Several more guards, all men, had joined them and were now arranging themselves around the room for the best view. The woman officer called to one of them, a beefy fellow who might have been Pig-face's brother. He came over and she handed him one of the whips. Then he walked around behind Traudl.

She knew it was coming, but it still startled her and made her scream when the first blow landed, slicing across the backs of her thighs. A second blow whipped across her buttocks. Then another, still higher up. He was methodically working his way up her back. When he reached where the pipe covered her shoulders he started down again, this time pausing to spend more time working over her buttocks. He concentrated his blows first on one butt cheek, then on the other, going back and forth several times before working the backs of her thighs again. He finished with an upstroke, the tip of the whip catching her between the legs near her anus. She responded by swinging her legs wildly in her efforts to escape the pain. The watchers laughed loudly.

Then it was the turn of the woman officer. She began working the whip back and forth, coming close to Traudl's belly but not touching it. Traudl could tell by the seemingly effortless way the woman controlled the whip that she was an expert. She grew afraid of what the woman might do to her. It must have shown on her face.

"Are you frightened, liebchen?" the woman called to her. "You should be."

The end of the whip shot out towards her, the very tip just barely snapping against her belly, just below her belly button. It stung like acid and Traudl screamed. The whip shot towards her again. This time it snapped against her right nipple. Again Traudl screamed, even louder than the first time. Quickly the whip came back to punish her left nipple and then before she could catch her breath to scream again it landed on her mons, at the very beginning of her slit.

Traudl reacted by thrusting her hips backwards, away from the tormenting leather. But the man behind her was ready and applied his whip to her buttocks with all his force. She thrust her belly forward and the woman was waiting. Her whip cut across Traudl's lower belly causing her to thrust her rear backwards again and into the path of the whip behind her. Several more times the woman officer and her accomplice repeated the sequence, playing a demonic sort of ping-pong with Traudl's tortured mid-section.

Then the woman officer contented herself with applying random strokes to Traudl's thighs, belly and breasts. Traudl was no longer screaming. She was nearly exhausted. It was all she could do to moan lowly with each stroke. And then the woman officer was coiling her whip. A guard brought a bucket of cold water and splashed it on Traudl, which somewhat revived her.

The step ladder was brought back and Traudl's feet placed on it. The stool was also brought out and a guard began unfastening her arms. But her torment wasn't quite over yet. Traudl was helped the step down tot he bottom step. Then her arms were raised and her wrists bound to the pipe. Two ropes were lowered from pulleys mounted on the ceiling. They were tied around her ankles and then her legs were pulled out from under her. They continued pulling on the ropes until Traudl was hanging by her arms and legs, her torso at a 45 degree ankle and her legs wide spread, exposing her sex for the crowd of leering men to see. Even more had come in to watch during her whipping.

The woman officer approach, walking up towards her exposed crotch. She was carrying a short, wide leather strap. With an evil smirk she gave Traudl a hard slap on each breast with the leather and then one final hard slap to her pussy. She then started exploring Traudl's sex with her fingers.

"My, my," she said in mock surprise. "I do believe our little traitor is a virgin. Imagine that. All those handsome young officers hanging around the Fuhrer's headquarters and this little slut not putting out for them? All those gallant young German men giving their lives for the Fatherland and this little bitch wouldn't even sacrifice her maidenhead for them? Have you ever heard of such a thing?"

She slapped Traudl's pudenda several times, then pinched her clitoral hood hard, digging her fingernails into the sensitive flesh.

"Well, liebchen," she snarled, "you're going to die soon. But before you do we're going to give you a chance to help the morale of our men. Heinz, would you care to do the honors."

"Gladly," Heinz said with enthusiasm. It was the man who had whipped her. He already had his fly open and his cock in hand, stroking rapidly. By the time he walked the few steps to Traudl his schwanz was ready for action.

Heinz positioned himself at her crotch. He had to bend at the knees slightly to get the height correct. But that was the extent of the preparations he made. He held the head of his cock against her maidenhead, for she was in fact still a virgin, and then pushed forward, applying all his weight and forcing the full length of his cock into her on the first thrust. Traudl cried out with the new pain, then burst into tears. If her tears had any effect on Heinz he didn't show it. He thrust rapidly, crudely. He came quickly, then withdrew and went in search of a towel without a backwards glance.

A bucket of water was splashed against her crotch. And then another man, cock in hand, stepped up. Traudl raised her head and saw that all the men in the room, at least a dozen, were lined up, flies open. She let her led loll back and closed her eyes, praying that she could endure the disgrace and humiliation without losing her mind. And then she realized, it didn't really matter, because not long after the last man had had her she would undoubtedly be dead anyway. Perhaps it would be better if she went insane before then.

One after another they took her until she lost count of how many there had been. She only realized they were finished when she felt cold water being splashed against her crotch again and then her legs being lowered. The step ladder was brought out once more and her feet guided to it. Even then two guards had to help support her while she was being untied and then help step down to the floor.

"You men have had your morale boost for today," the woman officer said in a voice that would do the strictest Prussian sergeant justice. "Now, back to your duties." As the men filed out of the room the officer turned to the two woman guards who remained. "You two know what to do. Do it," she said before walking towards the wall lockers.

The two women turned Traudl around so that she was facing one of the metal pillars. There, a little lower than shoulder height, a ring had been welded to the upright. Traudl's wrists were tied together, then her wrists were tied to the metal ring. Traudl braced herself fora further whipping.

To her surprise the officer walked into her field of view. She had stripped down to bra, stockings, garter belt and panties. The panties were black satin and surprisingly feminine considering who was wearing them. She was also buckling on a harness of some sort. It supported a long curving black leather covered phallus.

"Now, liebchen, I'm going to show you how it should be done," the woman said. She reached out and squeezed one of Traudl's breasts, then dragged her fingernails from traudl's shoulder to the waist as she walked behind her. The placed a hand on each of Traudl's hips and walked her backwards, her bound wrists forcing her to bend forwards. Then the tip of the fake cock was pressing against Traudl's poor, battered sex. After the abuse it had already received it was quite tender and Traudl tried to pull away.

"Oh, poor liebchen," the woman said in mock concern. "Are you perhaps sore? Well, there's another place we may go to play. And I believe it's still virgin."

"No!" Traudl screamed as she felt the tip pressing against her anus.

"Traitor!" the woman screamed back. "You gave up the right to say no when you betrayed our Fuhrer!" And with that she began to slowly but steadily force the phallus into Traudl. When she'd inserted its full length she pulled back partway and then started rhythmically pumping, back and forth, back and forth. She moved her hands from Traudl's hips to her breasts and squeezed them, keeping in rhythm with her thrusting.

The slow thrusting went on for a long time. Then suddenly the woman began to speed up, faster and faster. Traudl, with some amazement, heard the woman's breathing become loud and raspy. Then a series of fast, deep, jerky, punishing thrusts and the woman started screaming "Heil Hitler! Heil Hitler!" And then she was still for a time before slowly withdrawing the phallus.

"Take her to the execution chamber," the woman said softly. "I'll join you there momentarily."

Traudl was untied and led, stumbling, out of the chamber, down the hallway and through through a metal door into a large chamber. It was not the same chamber as the one where she'd witnessed the execution. The walls and floor were bare concrete, sloping slightly towards the center where there was a drain. There were no furnishings in the room. She had expected to see a Guillotine, but there wasn't one. Nor was there any sign that the room had been used for a firing squad. Had her moment of execution actually come, or were they merely planning more tortures for her?

One of the guards approached her and removed her manacles. He then tied her arms behind her back, as the woman she'd seen executed had been tied, wrist to elbow. Then she waited as a handful of people entered the room.

Finally the door opened again and the older man, the man in the civilian suit who had read the death order, entered. Behind him came the pig-faced man. Traudl trembled when she saw he was carried the horrid suction device. Two guards positioned themselves on either side of Traudl as the man stopped ten paces away from her and removed the fatal piece of paper from his pocket. She barely heard him intoning the order for her death. Then he stepped back.

Another guard approached, carrying a short wooden pole with a leather cuff on either end. Traudl's legs were spread apart until her ankles could be strapped into the cuffs. With the pole in place there was no way she could close her legs.

Next Traudl heard the sound of gears turning. She almost screamed when she saw a noose of thin wire lowered in front of her face. They were going to hang her with piano wire. Word had already gotten out how some of the conspirators had been hung that way, slowly strangling as the thin wire cut into their necks. One of the guards slipped the noose over her neck and snugged it down, but not enough to cut off her breathing. And even worse was to come.

Two more nooses, these of much thinner wire, were lowered. They were lowered to her face, then lowered further still until they were at the level of her breasts. Traudl knew immediately what her executioners intended. The sheer depravity of it astounded her.

One of the guards stepped in front of her. He took one of the nooses and slipped it over her breast. He worked it up into the fold on the underside of the breast and then cinched it down until it was uncomfortably tight. He did the same with the other noose on the other breast. Then he signaled to whoever was turning the crank handle to raise the nooses. The slack was taken out until Traudl was forced to go up on the balls of her feet to relieve the pressure on her breasts. Then the slack was taken out of the neck wire, but not quite as tight as the breast wires. Then they stopped for the moment.

There was one more preparation to be made. Pig-face approached Traudl. He was carrying the suction device. He went down on one knee in front of her. He slid two finger into her slit, wide open now with her legs held apart. He worked his fingers back and forth, at first with one on either side of the inner lips. The he was darting his fingers inside her, pulling out her natural lubricant and spreading it around her clitoral hood. Then he was working her clit and she suddenly realized he was trying to arouse her. And strangely enough he was succeeding. In spite of the horror he was about to inflict on her her most sensitive organ was reacting, engorging though in doing so it was assisting in its own destruction.

Then she felt the cold metal of the tube surrounding her sensitive clit and the flesh around it. Pig-face began pumping. She felt the suction on her clit, coming in pulses. With each pulse she was drawn further into the tube. At first she found it strangely stimulating. But as she was stretched out even further the rim of the tube began to dig in painfully and whatever strange pleasure there had been was replaced by an agonizing tension.

Pig-face stopped pumping. He closed the valve on the tube, then disconnected it from the handle. The tube was left hanging. With her clitoris in it's sensitive state the weight of the device, as little as it was, was agonizing, made even worse by the tendency of the tube to bob with every slight move she made. Pig-face got up and stepped back away from Traudl.

The woman officer now gave a signal and the winch began turning. Traudl felt the wires around her breasts tighten as the last remaining slack was removed. She went up on tiptoe to delay the inevitable as long as possible. And then she was being lifted up, raised off the floor, hanging by her breasts, the wire digging in unmercifully. At the same time the wire around her neck was being taken up as well, but not enough to force the noose to tighten. She knew what would happen. Sooner or later her own body weight would cause the nooses to cut through her breast tissue. Already she felt them cutting in on the undersides, felt blood starting to trickle down her chest. Then she would be hanging by her neck, slowly strangling to death if she didn't die first from loss of blood.

At first she struggled aimlessly, reacting to the unspeakable pain being inflicted on her. But the part of her brain that remained rational told her that her struggles merely caused the wires to cut more quickly and she willed herself against all instinct to hang still.

After what seemed like hours Traudl heard the woman officer's voice, sounding distant through the pain that had become her total reality.

"She's not heavy enough. Bring sand bags."

There were footsteps and moments later Traudl felt weight pulling down on her legs. She also felt the wires ripping through her breasts quickly now though nearly mad from the pain she'd already endured it made little difference. Her only though was that it wouldn't be much longer before the noose tightened around her neck. Could it be any worse than what she was now enduring?

Distantly she heard a voice say "Almost there, get ready." Then she felt a light tugging on her clitoris as a hand grasped the tube. She braced herself. A moment later she felt the razor sharp blade slice through her tender flesh, a blade so sharp that for a second she felt no pain. But only for the shortest second and then a wave of white hot agony spread through her body and she jerked spasmodically and screamed. It was her last scream for the sudden extreme movements caused the breast wires to sever the last bits of tissue and she fell a few centimeters before the neck wire cinched tight, cutting off her breath. Mercifully she passed out quickly from shock and lack of breath and not much later was declared dead.

In a cellar in the Steiglitz District of southwest Berlin former Lieutenant-Colonel Schnetzer waited in the dark, his Walther P38 cocked and ready. There were footsteps on the cellar steps. If they belonged to the Gestapo the first man into the cellar would be dead. With luck maybe the second and third. But the last bullet Schnetzer was saving for himself.

Schnetzer had been early to join the conspiracy. He'd also been early to depart from it and head for his prearranged bolthole when he saw that the plan was quickly unraveling. He was no fool. If he had to die he would take as many Gestapo men with him as possible. But if there was any way to avoid dying, he would take it. Before joining the conspiracy he'd arranged for this place to hide just in case.

"It's me, Hans," a voice called from the dark stairs. "I'm turning on the lights."

It was the voice of an old friend, the old friend he'd made arrangement with to shelter him at a moment's notice, and then cut off all contact with to lessen the chance of the Gestapo tracing him. Schnetzer kept the gun trained on the staircase just in case. He was relieved when the lights came on and it revealed Putzi, standing there alone, bearing Schnetzer dinner.

"How's it going on the outside?" as he ate quickly. The food was poor, but he was hungry. He only ate once a day, and that was if he was lucky and Putzi could make his blackmarket connections.

"Getting worse," Putzi replied. "They're picking up anyone and everyone." He paused. "They tried that Haber girl today. The secretary. Guilty of course. Gave her a death sentence. Probably already been carried out. They're not wasting any time now."

"Too bad," Schnetzer said. "When I chose 'Traudl Haber' for my cover name I never imagined the Gestapo would be fool enough to think it was really her."

"Well, we can only hope they made it quick

The End

Copyright is claimed by the author. Permission to copy is granted solely for personal, non-commercial use.

Review This Story || Email Author: von Hentzau



MORE BDSM STORIES @ SEX STORIES POST