Battleship Prien, the living hell for nazis' prisoners

Battleship Prien, the living hell for nazis' prisoners

Authors: Noemi Salvadge & Mister Johnson

Author's emails: Noya2929 [at] gmail [dot] com)

Tags: M/f, M/f+, F/f, F/f+, F+/f+, interracial, modification, snuff, Tit Torture, feet, slavery, bondage, real, torture, nc, Extreme, Scifi

IV. Chapter - Double trouble

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Ingrid and Magda, in that order, left the detention cell. Identical cell doors lined the long corridor's left side as they passed by, the only difference being the huge numbers above the peek holes. Ingrid's cell was number sixteen and was located almost at the end of the line. Altogether twenty cells were housed in the Prien's prison block. Magda knew all of them were occupied. All military ships' compliment of ‘disposable’ humans were maintained at the maximum level. Most of the prisoners were males, resupply for the outer rim's mining stations, but six of them held condemned women, like the almost naked, wiggly assed Ingrid in front of her. The corridor was illuminated by sharp, white light, every single spot was tidy and antiseptic. Completely dumb cleaning autodrones traversed the ship and collected all the waste 24 hours per day. Sometimes the male prisoners were also used for such purposes, combining their daily health walks with some useful labour. It was so clean you could eat your dinner from it and sometimes - for a variety of reasons, sometime to do with being on a leash like a pet - prisoners had to do just that.

The corridor's metal floor was cold under Ingrid's soles, an unpleasant sensation, but the experience of seeing a real spaceship from inside overwhelmed her other concerns. Whilst Ingrid's naked footfalls were silent, Magda's high leather boots clicked with every step, the sound reverberating across the echoing corridor. Magda couldn't ignore Ingrid's feet. Her toenails wore a similar design to her hands, and they were longer than normal. The girl was a typical example of young generation's immorality. In Hitler Jugend camps and in Navy Academies such depravities were strictly prohibited. Ingrid seemed to personify a whole army of blameworthy weirdness.

“I love your nails. Very daring.”

“Really?“ Ingrid looked back over her shoulder and smiled, though her smile seemed to be rather monstrous, only her white teeth showing from the circle hole at her mouth. Like - some kind of alien.

“I like my piggies too, I mean - I like them be sexy too.“ she said and almost giggled, the walk on the corridor of a real spaceship turned her into a fearless child. It was as if she was in an amusement park instead of a prison block. Magda shook her head. The teenage tarts brain seemed to be completely rotten.

At the end of the corridor they got through the triple security door which opened and closed by Magda's voice command as three shiny discs slid into each other making Ingrid sigh in surprise. They entered a circular room with benches around the edges and with another three sealed security door. Huge numbers were on the middle of the panels - 301, 302 and 303.

“What's this place?“ the girl asked and her suspicious gaze wandered from door to door.

“You’ll like this. There are all sorts of lovely things inside, a form of reward. We call them ‘recreation cells’. And she gave a sordid raise of the eyebrows. “Lots of toys to play with.“

“Recreation cells?“ Ingrid almost giggled, her mood getting better and better with every second.

“I never thought criminals could enjoy this kind of facilities! But to be honest, that cell is so small and cold, it’s fucking good to have a chance for some amusement,“ Ingrid told her happily. Magda stepped to door signed 301 and opened a small panel with the retina scanner behind. Voice can be recorded and replayed, but the second level security doors were all secured by safer identification procedures. The green laser blinded her for a split second, in the next the door slid into the wall. Magda motioned for Ingrid to go forward and the fetish dressed teenage girl entered the room...

...which was not exactly the recreation centre she was looking for.

“What the fuck is this?!“ she screamed out and froze as if she had been hit by a thunderbolt.

The room was already occupied by two people. One of them was a short haired young woman in the black uniform of an SS Staff Sergeant, but the other was Geraldine, her teacher and lover. To Ingrid's utter horror, Geraldine's face was a mask of agony.

The teacher was facing the door, forced into something like the extreme stretch ballerinas do before performances. She was almost lying face down, her legs open in V shape and her body almost flat between them, head facing the same direction as her soles and her head only some dozen centimetres higher than her ankles. The position was not a voluntary one. Her ankles and neck were forced into a vertical bar with holes in it, a mechanism controlled by a panel close standing close by.  Watching her arched back, Ingrid saw that her lover wore similar a harness to her own, Worse, her hands were pulled up by another metal bar and handcuffed into place, which must have added terrible pain to her shoulders. Geraldine's long fingers curled into painful grasp, the light catching the scarlet paint as they helplessly clenched and writhed.

“Dina! What's going on here?“ Ingrid screeched in her most desperate voice.

And the two Nazi girls laughed. Staying close behind her – stopping her from any attempt to turn and run - Magda whispered into the girl's ear:

“It’s exactly as I told you. This is a recreational cell. Just – not for prisoners. And like the pathetic, worthless cunt you are, you walked in here! Did you really think it was going to be that easy?”

Zara joined her comrade. She grabbed one of Ingrid's hair bunches, twisting it until the teenager winced. Painful grunts came from Ingrid's mouth but she was unable to tear her eyes from Geraldine's stretched body. 

“At least mine isn’t so stupid.”

“She’s still a degenerate.”

And Zara laughed. “Not for long…”

“Mine is young and healthy. I think she'll be the one that survives.“

“Don't be too sure - the one in the stocks is clever. She's already tried to convince me she's seen the error of her ways.“

Magda kicked Ingrid's knee joint from behind, forcing her to kneel down in front of her tortured lover. Then she lit a cigarette and blew smoke towards the ceiling.

“This one is worthless. I'm going to recommend she doesn't go into the breeding stock program - she might be an Aryan, but she's stupid, too. She actually thought I was like them. I could see her wiggling her little slit at me, as if it was something special.“ She considered as she inhaled. “We could let the crew have her. There’s a compliment of over five hundred on the ship. What do you think? Mass rape after dinner?“

Zara's mouth crinkled up as she considered.

“Yes, possibly. And Geraldine could watch.“

“Perhaps she could join in?“

Zara took her friends cigarette and shared a drag on it.

“How about this - they can service the entire crew between them - we'll tie the young one into a rape station, and every man who finishes with her can give her an electric shock - we'll start small, increase the charge as the total builds.“

“Shocks, or how about – longer and longer needles pushed into arbitrary places, or the same with heated sticks? There’s something very homely having a razier beside the rape station.” She smiled with pleasure, then her pretty eyebrows frowned. “Oh, Mind you, the last time we decorated a cunt with needles some of the guys lost interest. They complained there was too much blood, and some of them found it hard to get a stiffie. And the old bitch, what can we do with her? I know - we'll collect the spunk of every man she sucks off, and at the end, we'll fit a mask over her face and pour the cum down her throat,“ Magda said with a beautiful, childish enthusiasm.

“And drown her in jizz? Well, why not - it's worked before.“

Magda recovered her cigarette. She positioned herself so that the girl was between her and one of the cameras that would be recording their ordeal. She pushed Ingrid's head down, and crushed out the butt of her smoke on the girl’s neck. Ingrid's reaction was wild and intense, she strained against Magda and let out an ear piercing shrill. Her young, lithe body was writhing in Magda's grip. As the teenager screamed, the nazi just laughed.

“Grow up. If this is making you cry, you are in for a very uncomfortable few weeks.“

Geraldine tried to clear her thoughts, although with the building cramps all over her legs, that was not easy. Zara had brought her here not longer than ten minutes ago and she willingly positioned herself in the hideous looking device, but now she was at the edge of her tolerance. Geraldine did exercises at least three times every week and her body was limber, but the position she had to endure was far beyond the normal limits of her flexibility. She looked into Ingrid's tear filled eyes and tried to smile. The girl looked really weird in her leather hood, although the harness all over her body made her extremely sexy, those leather strips highlighted her ‘feminine mounds’. Geraldine felt as if her heart had been torn open. The sight of terror and fear in Ingrid's eyes was like having her chest stabbed with a glowing sword. The nazi women's easy chat also didn't help, the way they were discussing their plans sent shivers down Geraldine's spine. Not to mention the plan itself. She strongly - very strongly - hoped that the Nazis just wanted to intimidate them and those were not their real intentions.

“It's okay, my sweet Fairy, uhhh... it will be okay.“ she whispered and moaned, the muscles in her thighs pulsating harder and harder with every passing second.

“Dina! Ohhh Dina, I'm so sorry!“ Ingrid wept, her tears ran down her leather hood. A sharp flash interrupted their miserable whining. At the right side of the room a huge screen of two meters in diameter came alive.

The screen flickered for a moment, and then began to display the well-known A G Farben logo. It began with some establishing shots of it's Polish super-factory, and then cut to an attractive woman - clearly an actress, not a scientist, despite the white coat.

“Hello, and allow me to introduce you to a wonderful tool, given to you by the A G Farben Corporation. Anyone with an Access Rank below G should turn this off now and report their error to their supervisor…“

The film cut to a close up of the actresses grey eyes, and sexy eyebrows. A sordid smile caught one side of her pretty mouth “Unless you are a prisoner, and your interrogator is showing you this film, in which case - ooops!“ and she actually giggled.

There were more establishing shots of the factory, scientists working on chemical compounds, then finally, it cut back to the actress in sexy rubber protective gear, holding a tube up to the camera.

“You may wonder why I'm dressed up like a rubber deviant. Well, it's because of this wonderful chemical those great guys at A G Farben have invented - Firedance. Now, I'm a pretty broad minded sort of girl, but there is no way I'm going to let this near my skin.“ Another close up - she grinned at the camera as if this was a toothpaste commercial, “Ready? Here comes the science…“

The pictures changed. Now it was an animation of molecules and skin cells and - well, neither Ingrid nor Geraldine really knew what.

“Firedance works through the physical irritation of thermeoceptors, which are the heat sensitive nerve endings of human skin. It's effects last for approximately ten minutes. The substance continually leaks into deeper levels of skin. But it’s totally controllable. Cleaning the skin reduces the effects within one minute. No direct physical damage is caused, but the pain receptors - and the victim - will not be able to tell the difference.“

Quick cut to a lab experiment of a pretty girl with long, brunette curls, having Firedance smeared liberally across her breasts. The film had no sound, but after one minute, you could tell she was screaming and screaming.

“Test results indicate that although Firedance is not toxic, 5% of test subjects died from heart attacks or related allergic reactions. Subjects exposed to full body bath in a concentration over 10% all died within thirty minutes due to heart failure. Skin exposed to the substance over 10% for more than one hour loses its complete thermo sensing ability due to the complete destruction of the thermeoceptor nerves.“

Finally, the brunette arched her back and held a rictus pose, pain knifing through her. Then she gradually slumped back to the torture bench with a glazed expression.

The film ended.

Whilst their attention had been utterly fixed to the screen, Zara - the red haired Nazi - had been busy. She had replaced her uniform leather gloves with a pair of industrial rubber gauntlets, gleaming under the cells lights. In one hand she had a paint brush. And in her other hand was paint-pot sized container marked with a skull and crossbones. She placed this on the floor by Geraldine and prized off the lid. Then she dipped a brush into the substance and began swirling it around.

“You can't do this! This is insane! You can't do this to Dina!“ Ingrid screamed. For a moment she almost sounded strict and intimidating, but her outburst only drew derisive laughter from the Gestapo officers.

Magda stopped the girl wriggling by grasping one of her bunches.

“No, 'degenerate whore' there's no point asking the Staff Sergeant to stop. She has a job to do. But if you want to help your friend, you can.“

“I - I can? How?“

And the blonde gave her a slow, sadistic smile.

“Why do you think I left your mouth exposed? You may clean her feet with your tongue.“

“But - but…“

“Oh, that might hurt your pretty little lips? Yes, it says something about 'not for oral consumption' on the tin - but if your mouth is wet enough, you might be able to dilute the chemical. I imagine your mouth will feel like you have sucked off a flame thrower, but - well, the choice is yours.“

“What? You fucking psychos! You are both fucking out of your rotten bitchy minds, you cowardly - sickos!“ Ingrid was screaming hysterically now, losing control of her temper. Geraldine watched this completely terrified. The pain that waited for her was frightening enough, but Ingrid's insulting screams were bad. Very bad. She was sure that Nazi prison staff had plenty of methods to control their inmates, and those methods weren't going to be pleasant for her hot-blooded lover.

“Fairy!“ she shouted sharply into Ingrid's face. The tone made her stop.

“It will be okay, sweetie!“ she kept on shouting. That part was easy, the pain in her muscles and joints made her want to scream anyway. Ingrid stared back with those, big, teary, surprised eyes, and then gave a shallow nod. It seemed the hysterics were over.

“I can stand it. I will be okay, just stop using rude words! That makes this even worse...“ she continued in moaning voice, but at normal volume. Ingrid slowly nodded but her tears kept flowing.

“Staff Sergeant! I'm ready, just please, don't punish her, she doesn't know what she's saying.“ Geraldine forced her head sidewards to look at Zara.

Magda sneered.

“I do believe the cunt actually wants this.”

“She seems very keen to be punished. I think she’s looking forward to it.”

“In which case – we should not keep her in suspense.”

Zara squatted down, placing the small bucket under Gerladine's chin, in full view of Ingrid's horrified gaze. With a small brush Zara began to cover Geraldine's left sole. She used slow, delicate strokes, making sure that the whole base of the foot was coated. The teacher had rather big, size 39 feet, slightly bony although her toepads were soft and meaty. Her toes were long and slender, almost like fingers with cherry red paint applied to the carefully trimmed, wide nails at the tips. Her soles were slightly dirty, black dirt stuck against the wrinkles on her soles, she hadn't wore any shoes since she was arrested in her home. The Firedance was a translucent and rather thick liquid, almost like melted wax, but with confident brush strokes Zara smeared it over her soles, even covering the top of her toes within twenty seconds. This didn’t look like the first time she had applied the noxious chemical to a helpless victim.

“At this stage, it probably feels soothing and quite nice. That’s why I like Firedance – that sense of anticipation. But they know it’s going to get worse.”

The liquid was cold. Geraldine shivered and wiggled her long toes, but apart from the chill she did not feel anything. With her face only inches away from her foot she could follow every careful stroke made by the brush. Very soon her left foot was gleaming like it had been coated in wax.

“How long was that?“ Zara asked Magda, who replied in her loveliest voice:

“Almost one minute. The show is about to begin,“ She added with a sweet eagerness. Zara took her bucket and cleared away, just as the first surprised yelp escaped from Geraldine's mouth. Her left leg began to jerk. The involuntarily movement you expect when a when a body part touches something really hot. Her brow creased as she fought to control the growing pain.

“Ah, here we go,” Magda said with pleasure.

“Shiiiiiit thisss huuurrttssss!!“ Geraldine hissed between her teeth as her mouth stretched into a wide snarl. She desperately tried to blow air from her lungs directly to her sole, deforming her face funnily, like she was blowing a birthday candle.

“Phuuu... phuuuu... phuuu...“ her cheeks pulsated. And then it really started. Geraldine sucked in a lungful of air, her eyes widened as her body went rigid, every muscle tightened to the maximum. Immediately, sweat broke out on her forehead. Then it became too much to endure. She opened her mouth and let out an ear-piercing scream.

“Fuuuuuccccckkkk!! Buuuuurrrrrrnnnnsss!! Buuuuuuuurrrnnnnsss!!“ she screamed wildly and both of her legs started to tremble with uncontrolled motion. Her long toes wiggled like ten dying worms, she bent her arches up and down in vain attempt to get rid of that hellish thing burning her foot, and her long scream died away so slowly, but only after not a single molecule of air remained in her lungs. She sucked air in heavily and screamed again, while her wet looking toes never stopped their wild dance. Ingrid watched her lover's pain contorted face and surreal vivid moving toes, she had no idea what Geraldine felt, but the horrible evidence of that extraordinary pain almost deafened her.

“Dinaaaaa! Nooooo! My God nooooo!“ the teenager screamed too, the suffering teacher's sight blurred within the curtain of her tears. Second after second passed and Geraldine kept on screaming like a cave woman, her pitiful voice showing the agony she felt, no less than the way her willowy body wormed and writhed in the cruel stocks.

“Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!! Hoooooooooot!! Toooo hooooooot!! I caaaaaaaan't!! Pleeeasssseeeeeeee!!“ the beautiful woman screamed. Tears appeared in her pain filled eyes. She gazed mesmerized at her wiggling left foot which suffered more and more.

Ingrid desperately wanted to do something to ease her lover’s pain. The problem was - she could see Dina's foot glistening with the repugnant slime, and she knew it was going to hurt. The way that foot was thrashing….

Finally, Geraldine could stand the pain no longer. She howled, knowing she was condemning her lover to share her agony.

“Ahhhaaaaaahhhhhaaaaaaa!! Tooooo hooooooooot!! Jessssussssssss!!“ poor Geraldine half screeched, half hissed, she ground her teeth with the tip of her tongue protruding between her jaws. Some fat drops of blood dripped onto her chin, showing that the excruciating pain had made her bite her tongue. With bloody lips, she turned to Ingrid, her eyes large like the moon and radiateing so much pain that only the most cold hearted monster could ignore them.

“Faiiiryyyyyy! Heeeelp meee! Shiiiiiiiiit!! My toooooeeeeeeeessssss!! Heeeeeeeeeeeelp! Caaaaaaaaaan't staaaaaaaaaaaand!! Aaaaaooooohhhhhhhhhhhh!! Heeeeeeeeeeeelp!“ Geraldine whined pitifully. Her fingernails cut into her palms high above her body and her glistening toes never stopped wiggling.

Ingrid cried, but then knew what she must do. Well, it was less conscious and more instinctive reaction, she just simply needed to save the woman she loved. She pushed her face forwards and began to lap at Dina's foot. Her skilful tongue followed the path of the brush, around the soft pads, between the elegant toes, along the shimmering red nails. It was not the first time she's worshipped those feet, but …

Already, she could feel herself reacting. For one thing, Firedance was disgusting, it tasted of rotten Garlic. Metallic, nauseating. But she kept going. She worked her jaw and tried to dribble saliva down the sole of Geraldine’s foot. The teacher’s feet were always tasty, sometimes she even loved to suck at them when they were slightly sweaty, that odour normally made them even more appealing. Not this time, the awful taste of the thick, jelly like substance totally took over the savour.

Behind her, one of the Nazi bitches chuckled.

“I wonder if that tickles?“

Ingrid ignored it. She kept licking. All down the sole of the left foot, into the arch. She slobbered, sucked, licked, her pink tongue was darting from the black rubber mask, laving the arch, the instep, feeling the texture of the skin as it crinkled around the heel…

And started to scream.

And Ingrid's tongue felt like it was on fire, burning through to the core. She closed her long-lashed eyes - if the damage to her mouth was as bad as this pain, she would have nothing left in there but char blacked skin and white bone. Tears trickled down the mask and also ran onto Geraldine’s feet, trickling down between the toes, which still thrashed in spastic agony. Geraldine gazed at her lover, the leather masked face was so close to hers, the pink tongue was doing its work with great enthusiasm. Ingrid's face remained hidden under the hood but her squeals left no doubt how much agony she was in. Geraldine kept on screaming and crying, although the agony felt to be slowly decreasing. She couldn't imagine what Ingrid felt, and as her mind was slowly cleared she started to feel heart breaking remorse. And love, such a deep love. Ingrid, her crazy but innocent lover had just sacrificed herself to save Geraldine, risking her sanity and even her life. Some of the teardrops kept on flowing originated not only from pain, but from emotion.  

Their joint torture seemed to last for hours. Ingrid's mouth throbbed and her throat tightened, more with the disgusting taste than anything else. Geraldine feet still wriggled and moaned, but Ingrid had managed to take the peak of the agony away.

Finally, Magda pulled on Ingrid's pig tails and hauled her back from Geraldine. Automatically, the tongue was still extended and lapping. The nazi pushed it back into her mouth with a gloved finger, chuckling.

“That was magnificent, 'fairy' - I hope that if I was ever in this situation, someone would do that for me. Can't speak? No, poor Geraldine is having a few problems too. All that pain - after all - you were a little slow, it's almost as if you don't really love her?“

Those big, baby blue eyes looked sadly at Ingrid. Then she laughed, again the angel.

“Oh, but we know that's not true. And you can show her. You can give her a nice big kiss.“

“Whahaout?“ Ingrid asked back, though her the simple word “what“ sounded like she was talking with a burning ember on her tongue. The feeling she had was not far away from that image, her mouth, her tongue, her lips and even the interior of her nostrils were burning inhumanly. Poor Ingrid kept her mouth wide open, her tongue rolled over the lower jaw and she was sucking in the air loudly, loud hissing sounds filled the air as her young lungs were working like a smith's bellows. Sucking in the cool air was an instinctive reaction. In reality it did not ease her pain, but else could she have done?

“Csaaann'th ksisss, csaaann'th...“ she moaned as the tip of her pink tongue started to rub against the edge of her healthy teeth. Another desperate attempt to remove some of the Firedance from its surface. It seemed to have some effect - a fat drop of the thick substance rolled slowly from her upper lip down, along her chin.

But the nazi girls would not be denied their fun. Zara produced a strange leather item - it looked like two wire 'O' gags linked together - one would fit around Ingrid's head, one around

Geraldine's, and once they were secured, neither would be able to move their mouth away from the other.

“We call this the 'kissing gag'. I hope you like it - you'll be wearing it for hours…“

Zara knelt and fitted the first leather strap around Geraldine's head. Some of Geraldine's toes still made sudden wiggles from time to time, her whole body was covered in sweat and her face was still a mask of agony. She was too weak to offer much resistance, nothing except a few now whispered peas for 'mercy'. These were stilled as her tormentor adjusted the wires to force her jaws open. Then Magda forced Ingrid forward. She looped the other half of the gag around her head, but with so much slack that her mouth was a good six inches from her lovers. Their terrified eyes met. Ingrid's eyes were crazy from the intolerable burning all around her mouth, her eyelids trembling wildly and she was squeaking in such a high pitched voice it was barely audible. Geraldine did her best to force a smile onto her face. It became rather odd, but it was amazing she could manage a smile at all.

“Come on, Fairy!“ Geraldine whispered and looked deep into Ingrid's eyes.

“My turn to ease your pain.“ she said, her words were immediately followed by some tears. Geraldine was far too terrified to be able to hide her true feelings. The skin of her foot still felt like they had been anointed with freshly poured molten tar, and she couldn't imagine how it would feel inside her mouth. But the kiss was inevitable, and Geraldine needed to keep Ingrid's love. She was not sure if she would have kissed the student if she had been given a choice, nor if Ingrid would have done that again for her after experiencing the

Firedance's pain, but there were no “ifs“. They were to kiss.

“Ah, how romantic.“ Zara commented sarcastically.

Then - slowly, playfully - she tightened the strap. Inch by inch, Ingrid’s lips and tongue, still dripping with Firedance - were pressed towards Geraldine’s. When they were forced to kiss, the pressure was kept on. They could turn their heads slightly so that their teeth did not collide and this took on the shape of a true, romantic kiss.

It took a little while, but soon - very soon - the chemical was transferred from Ingrid's mouth to Geraldine’s. The smothered screaming started.

“This is worse, of course, because the membranes of the tongue are so full of nerves,“ Zara commented, offering Magda a cigarette.

“Of course. Do you have light?“

By then, Ingrid and Geraldine were screaming into each other’s mouths, wriggling desperately, trying to break free. The gag held them immobile in their kiss.

Zara lit Magda's cigarette. Then they circled their victims and watched the show.

“I said they belonged together,“ Magda laughed.

Geraldine's world exploded. The first seconds of kissing Ingrid were almost pleasant, though she never felt her lover's lips so rigid and lifeless, but as soon as the burning overwhelmed her oral cavity living hell arrived for her. She tightly shut her eyes and screamed into Ingrid's mouth, who replied with her squeaks and high pitched whining. Geraldine's throat was sore and her sound was hoarse but still strong enough to fill the torture chamber, though the rest of her volume died in Ingrid's throat and gullet. The teacher, unlike Ingrid, was bound so tightly that she had no space to do anything beyond the inhuman screaming, but Ingrid's body was actually free. Even if the forced kiss made it better for her, Geraldine's profusely drooling saliva washed away some Firedance, but Ingrid's instincts had driven her to move away, to get rid of the wet mouth that prevented her from sucking in the cool air.

With the help of her need, Ingrid yanked against Geraldine, involuntarily twitching her body, straining her neck against Geraldine's head and tugging viciously like a lasso-leashed wild horse. Her shapely body was worming around, her fingers were clamping and opening behind her back, finally she slid onto her belly and kicked wildly in futile attempt to tear herself away. Geraldine's neck was stretched to its maximum, she kept on shrieking wildly, spitting some gobs of Firedance into Ingrid's throat. Her windpipe was pushed against the edge of the cruel metal holding her head in place. The women's teeth collided against each other then bit into each other's lips, but the “kissing gag“ held them tight.

The infernal kissing spiced up with screaming and fighting went on for long, long minutes, until the Firedance's effect started to die away. Ingrid calmed down enough not to tug on Geraldine’s overstretched neck. Soon the lesbians were heavily panting into each other’s mouths, a few drops of blood painted their tortured lips red. Their eyes opened, still wild, teary, radiating horror, remorse and pain. After the burning cooled down enough not to be in constant agony Geraldine stuck her tongue out, slid it into Ingrid's mouth and licked along the interior rucks behind the girl's lips.

“Sssssshhhhhhh,“ she moaned directly into Ingrid's mouth.

“You saved me. I love you.“ she whispered silently and rubbed the tip of her nose against Ingrid's.

The Nazi girls unstrapped their victim’s heads and helped the two women to their feet. Geraldine found it hard to stand and was obliged to hop. Magda unlaced Ingrid’s hood and exposed her pretty face, all sweaty and blotchy from her torture session, which was somehow quite appealing, like – like a horse having been exercised.

“Well, ladies, that’s enough by way of introduction, “ Zara laughed. “I hope we weren’t too soft on you, but – well, if we wanted to kill you quickly, we would have used the Joy Machine. Good torture is like – cooking – it takes a certain amount of time. Just remember, this will not be our last session together.”

Zara pushed Geraldine towards the cell door, ignoring the fact she screamed each time she had to walk. Magda considered for a moment, then shook her head.

“No, not you. I’m not quite finished with you.”

She took Ingrid by the elbow, leading her across to a mechanical looking torture horse. She laid the girl across it and fastened leather cuffs around her feet and wrists, using the electronic controls to make sure that her buttocks and thighs were exposed. Then she selected a riding crop from the whips in the wall rack.

“And what are you up to?”

Magda tested the whip, then took off her jacket, throwing it across a chair. In her gleaming white blouse and black leather gloves, she looked even more beautiful. Corn gold hair streamed over her collar and down her back.

“I’d going to take a little exercise. Half an hour beating the shit out of Ingrid should work up a good appetite for lunch.”

“Don’t forget, we have that ‘cross Empire technical exchange’ lecture to attend.”

Magda nodded, then toyed with the controls slightly, widening the splay of her Ingrid’s legs and leaving her pussy even more exposed than before.

“No, I won’t forget. Half an hour playing with my toy, quick shower, fresh uniform and lunch. I’ll be there on time.”

Zara shook her head and laughed.

“All right. Just don’t be late. Tromeller is angry enough about having this Jap on the ship. Latecomers will be sent to the Joy Machine.”

And she pushed Geraldine out of the door, back towards her cell.

Magda knelt down in front of the helpless, shivering girl. She brushed a gloved fingertip across her face, enjoying the terror she could see in those eyes.

“Do you remember what I said at the start of our session? That I was not going to be able to have sex with my boyfriend for six weeks? That’s quite true. But I don’t want you to worry about me. I have a very good substitute. Inflicting pain on beautiful women. Somehow, that fills the void. A little. “ she knelt closer and whispered “Between you and me, I’ve even been known to cum during a good torture session, but it has to be quite intense. So, I’m going to use this crop to warm you up, and then we shall see – perhaps the electrified needles? Perhaps I’ll anoint your clit with Firedance? Or perhaps I’ll just choke you to the point of death and see how long I can keep you there? Let’s see if I can hurt you enough to achieve my own hands-off orgasm, hm?”

Then she stood up and walked behind Ingrid, trailing the crop along her smooth buttocks, enjoying the responsive shiver and the girl’s tears.

“Look on the bright side though – you only have to endure half an hour. Any more than that, and I’ll miss my lunch.”

A moment later, she raised her arm and began Ingrid’s second journey to hell.