4.
Helga Schmidt is bound to the wooden post, her pretty hands manacled
behind it. She is naked and pieces of her blue sequined dress are all
over the torture chamber. Tatters of her nylon stockings still cling to
her legs and around her ankles which are bound with wire, legs wide
apart, to a two-by-four nailed to the base of the post. A strand of rope
around her neck also secures her to the rough wood choking her and
forcing her to stand way up on her toes. There are welts and bruises all
over her exquisite body but primarily on her legs.
Hauptmann leans against the wall across the room puffing on his
cigarette and looking carefully at every detail of the captive naked
woman. His eyes trail slowly down her luscious legs to her feet, to the
red toe-nails, then they work their way back up her body, up her
wonderfully plump but firm whip-marked thighs, her blonde pussy-mound,
the delicate swell of her abdomen which reminds him of a Greek vase he
saw recently in the museum, and up her rib-cage to her spectacular tits,
natural goblets of pink slut-meat capped with the most perfect
strawberry colored nipples he¡¯s ever seen, and then up to her suffering
face crudely gagged with her own panties and her begging eyes which he
meets dead-on until she eventually looks down. Then his eyes repeat the
journey once more.
He has watched his two soldiers rape his screaming captive again and
again.
He has watched them beat her with their fists while they fucked her.
He has watched them suspend her by her wrists from the ceiling and lay
into her legs with
stiff cat-o-nine¡¯s that whistled sharply and etched bright red welt-cuts
across her snow-toned
thighs.
But thus far she has not clearly answered his questions.
So he has given his soldiers a break and they have gone leaving him
alone with his beautiful bitch.
Before Hitler a woman like Helga would have had nothing to do with a
man like Hauptmann.
She was rich and educated, a concert pianist, part of the elite, the
old German blue-blood aristocracy.
Hauptmann was from a poor family. Brought up in the slums.
But the Fuhrer had turned it all around.
Now he was Helga Schmidt¡¯s one and only god. Her fate was completely
in his hands.
Slowly he strode across the room, his boots clacking on the concrete
floor.
From a wooden cabinet he took the box of needles, sixty of them, long
sharp sewing needles...and the acetylene torch.
Helga cringed as he stood before her. She had always been terrified of
pins and needles going into terrible tantrums as a child whenever she¡¯d
needed an injection. Now she watched
this monster take several long sewing needles in one cupped hand from
the box he laid on the floor between her out-flung legs next to the
acetylene torch.
Gently, he removed the saliva soaked panties from her mouth.
¡°...please...¡± she begged instantly. ¡°...don¡¯t, please...I beg you...¡±
¡°I need the names of the contacts Helga,¡± he said softly looking into
her face.
Because the choking neck-rope forced her up on her toes her eyes were
level with his.
¡°...the contacts in France and Switzerland...¡±
¡°...It - it was...it was m-my father...¡± she muttered.
Hauptmann had taken one pin from his cupped left hand between thumb and
forefinger of his right hand.
¡°M-my father made the...the...ah...arrangements...¡±
¡°Oh really?¡± he asked sarcastically.
He waited a moment then viciously he stabbed the long sharp needle deep
into Helga¡¯s beautiful fat white boob.
¡°Ooowwwww!¡± she screamed.
Almost before her cry was finished he stabbed a second needle into her
other breast.
¡°We know it was you who contacted the French, cunt...Now...TALK!¡±
Her eyes filled with tears stared back at him insolently.
¡°You bastard!¡± she snarled. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you nothing! Nothing!¡±
He slammed the next pin deep into the juicy pulp of breastmeat.
¡°Y-YOwwwwwww!!¡±
¡°We¡¯ll see about that, Fraulein Schmidt...¡±
Another pin, stabbed upward from underneath, up into the underside of
her luscious udder.
Short, sharp cry...her teeth clamp together...jaw set with
determination.
She¡¯s going to fight him. Good. Excellent.
He stabs five more needles into her tit-globes.
¡°For the last time, Helga....Who are your contacts in France and
Switzerland?¡±
She stares past him at the wall.
¡°Alright,¡± he says nodding slowly. ¡°Alright...no more chances...¡±
He goes to the wooden cabinet.
When he returns she sees the spiked steel ball-gag in his hand.
Without a word he reaches up and pinches her nostrlis shut.
When she gasps for air he slams the spiked ball into her lovely mouth
and straps it tight around her head. The tiny barbs gouge into her lips
and tongue.
¡°Now you won¡¯t be able to tell me anything...¡± he tells her reaching
for more needles.
¡°Even if you WANT TO!¡±
He stabs needle after needle after needle into his bound victim making
her writhe and whine helplessly...needle after needle...he loves the
resistance he meets as the needle enters and
penetrates through lactiferous-ducts and fatty tissue. Helga is of good
strong German-Aryan stock and she won¡¯t be easily broken. He enjoys
that...needle after needle...he pinches her nipples to get them erect...
she struggles wildly in vain...he holds her swelling nipple firmly
between thumb and forefinger of left hand...needle between thumb and
forefinger of right hand...such perfect nipples..such a lovely
color...Proud, haughty, blonde bitch. He remembers how she had stared at
him indignantly when she¡¯d first been brought in. He remembers how
she¡¯d looked on stage in the concert hall, like a goddess, so distant,
so far above him...and now...
Now he smiles and while he looks at her he pushes the needle hard right
through the ruby red tit-cap...her head bangs on the post...she
chokes...saliva streams from her bleeding lips...She¡¯s not so high and
mighty now. He takes her other nipple lovingly, rubbing it softly...then
he stabs it all the way through...He steps back to look at her. Her
tits look like floating exploding mines. There are still fifteen or
sixteen needles left. He proceeds to put most of them in her tits and
nipples until her tits are festooned like pin-cushions in a sewing kit.
In the end there are only three needles left.
On one knee he crouches before his captive.
She is quivering, whining, shaking her head.
Now she¡¯s just a worthless suffering whore-slut. Proud blonde goddess
Helga Schmidt, the concert artist has been brought to heel.
He takes the velvety flesh of her pussy lip and pulls it open
carefully, placing the needle-point against the raw red flesh on the
inside.
He looks up at her already licking his lips as he pushes the needle
hard into pussy meat.
The cry in her throat is animalistic. The steel manacles rattle
against the wooden post.
When he has pierced through one pussy lip completely and blood trickles
down her welted thigh-meat to drip on the floor he takes the other flap
of flesh and repeats the process.
¡°UU-UUHHRRRRRRGHHHHH!!!¡± she screams.
¡°YESS!¡± he shouts triumphantly.... ¡°That¡¯s it, Fraulein...that¡¯s
it...FEEL THE PAIN!
FEEL IT!¡±
There is one needle left.
¡°Is there something you want to say to me?¡± he asks looking up at her.
She nods eagerly, wide-eyed, like the star pupil who knows the answer.
¡°Oh, you DO?¡± he retorts ironically.
¡°Well...that¡¯s too bad,¡± he tells her smiling ...already he is lifting
the last needle to her lovely pink slit, parting her pierced lips to
expose the clitoral hood.
¡°Its just gonna have to wait...bitch... ¡±
With crude viciousness he drives the needle deep into the heart of her
clit, cork-screws it through the nub of flesh pointing the needle upward
until it rips through and blood flows copiously down both thighs in
thick fat drops, slowly, all the way to the floor.
Her agony is absolutely perfect, beautiful to watch and Hauptmann feels
his cock surge
at the sight of it.
He picks up the acetylene torch. Watching the suffering woman closely
he opens the valve on the end of the torch and holds a match to the
nozzle. The blue flame pops to life.
¡°Now, Helga,¡± he tells her standing there with the lit torch. ¡°Is there
something, anything at all, you might want to tell me?¡±
¡°Gguwwghhh!!¡± she groans, nodding eagerly, her head tilting pleadingly.
¡°Gwwhhaaa! Awwhhrrrr!¡±
¡°Isn¡¯t that just a fucking shame,¡± he replies meanly.
¡°You had your fucking chance and you let it go...now...well, now you¡¯ll
just have to pay the consequences...¡±
He brings the torch up to her big, needle-ridden paps and begins to
play the flame on the
needles.
The metal of the needles as it heats up is conveyed right into the core
of her paps and after a while she begins to rise up on her pretty
painted toes and to scream into the gag, spit pouring down her face and
neck.
Slowly, lovingly, Hauptmann traces wide circles on her lovely white
belly-flesh, on her wide hips, leaving dark burns on the delicious
albaster-textured flesh.
Her screams are a rhapsody of anguish and terror.
He goes down on one knee before her to train the flame on her feet, one
limb and then the other, back and forth, burning and burning. He traces
her leg up past the knee and down again....
Then, the other leg as she trembles and kicks against the rope...
¡°Feel it...just feel it...¡± he snarls wickedly. ¡°Fire is cleansing,
liberating...See how your evil flesh responds to it, Helga. It wants to
flee from it, to escape its blessing.¡±
He focuses the flame now on her upper thighs and on her mons veneris
singing through her pubic hair and into the creamy tenderness of skin.
The bitch shudders violently and twists her head from side to side. Her
legs jerk against the tight ropes as the blue flame-tongue licks at her,
licks the luscious flesh off her and leaves dark smudge-lines and bright
red skin-burns.
¡°Yes, Helga,¡± Hauptmann continues, his voice low, his eyes crazed as he
watches the work of the blowtorch on the beautiful woman¡¯s pussy mound.
¡°I suppose the religious men are right when they say the flesh is
evil...It hates the fire. It rejects purification...You may be a
beautiful woman on the outside, Helga Schmidt, but inside you are a
worthless, sinful, lying,
traitorous, jew-loving whore....¡±
He puts the torch down on the floor.
She looks down to see him peel her cunt-lips open and pin them wide
apart into the burned flesh of her thighs. He pushes the long needles
deep into the leg-muscle, making her screech into the spiked metal ball
in her mouth.
Still on one knee before her, he then picks up the torch again.
With madman¡¯s eyes he looks up at her as he slides one finger into her
love-hole. He licks his lips responding to the sensation of her moist
clinging vagina.
¡°This is the heart of your sinfulness, Fraulein.¡±
The torch is his other hand.
¡°This is the part of you which deserves the most terrible punishment.¡±
She is shaking her head now, her eyes full of horror.
He withdraws his hand and raises the blue flame of the blowtorch to her
exposed sex.
The way the pain explodes in the tortured woman is absolutely
mesmerizing for Hauptmann. She leaps against the ropes that hold her
almost jumping off the post as he pushes the nozzle of the blowtorch
right up into her cooze.
¡°GGHHRRAAAAAAGGGHHHH!¡± she bellows wildly. It is a sound Hauptmann
does not expect from such a gentle and civilized female and he is in awe
of how the terrible pain has transformed Helga. The verneer of civilized
behavior has been completely stripped away; all that is left is a
magnificent trapped animal, a howling beast caught in a trap.
He holds the flame to her carefully watching her face. When her eyes
start to roll back and she sags against the ropes he withdraws the
flame. She hangs on the edge of uncosciousness and he gives her a few
moments. Then he gives her the flame again. Her body responds
immediately, surging and quivering beautifully, a mindless shriek
beginning low and rising up the harmonic scale to a shrill squeal like
an air-raid siren.
Hauptmann pushes the nozzle of the blow torch into his bound victim
burning out her vulva and vaginal passage. Smoke rises from the burning
flesh with sizzles and hisses audibly.
The room is filled with the stench of burning skin and unable to contain
herself Helga shits herself then pisses, her bladder and intestines
reacting involuntarily to the ghastly torture.
Hauptmann feels her piss, warm as spring rain on his hand and he smiles
but does not retrieve the terrible flame.
He has learned to love the smell of human excrement and he laughs
softly.
¡°That¡¯s right, Fraulein,¡± he tells her as if speaking to a child. ¡°You
see? You are nothing but a pig after all. Your beauty and your
refinement mean nothing. I have reduced you to what you are underneath.
Look at yourself, relieving yourself in front of a complete stranger
like a dirty dog on a street corner...¡±
Her eyes begin to roll back in her head again and he withdraws the
flame and shuts off the blowtorch.
He rises to his feet to stand in front of her, unbuttons his fly and
takes out his erect cock to jerk off as he looks at her. Focused in the
bright wash of the overhead bulb which is right over her head, Helga
Schmidt, in her shame and torment, beaten, disheveled and suffering, is
more beautiful for Hauptmann then when his men first brought her in. A
warm red blush colors her cheeks and her sky-blue eyes swimming in tears
already have that sweet look of the victim which so deeply satisfies the
S.S. Commandant.
Soon, Hauptmann will be given charge of a female internment camp near
Auschwitz.
There his barbaric appetites will find delicious fulfillment. But for
now the torture of this one beautiful blonde is a memorable high-point
of his career in the S.S..
He begins taking out the needles from her big tits. The cauterized
skin begins to bleed with the removal of each tiny metal barb and when
he is finished he begins to squeeze and maul her pierced mammaries until
they spill thick drops of blood down her chest. He leans down to bite
her nipples hard tasting her blood and making her groan and twist
helplessly.
Then, an expression of total disdain and contempt appears on the Nazi¡¯s
face as he stands before his captive and puts his engorged member to the
burned mouth of her pussy.
¡°As a woman you are now completely worthless,¡± he tells her as the huge
crown of his penis begins to push into the burned and swollen
flesh-aperture. ¡°You will never have children. I will make sure of
that.¡±
He enters her and begins to fuck her taking his time, enjoying the pain
he puts on her face,
the physical pain wrought by his huge cock inside her and of his
terrible words working on her
lovely spirit.
¡°When I am through with you, Fraulein Schmidt, no man will ever desire
you again.¡±
Her eyes looking into his are the eyes of defeat, of surrender.
¡°I will be the last man to have you....the very last...¡±
He reaches out and removes the spiked ball from her bleeding lips. Its
left dangling by its leather strap around her neck.
¡°Now, Fraulein,¡± he says softly, leaning forward to whisper in her ear,
his hands above her head as he leans into the post to push his hard
prick deep into her burned-out cunt.
¡°....the contact in France...¡±
Her chin rests on his shoulder, her eyes spilling tears, her pretty
tortured mouth shaping the words.
¡°...ahh...mm....Gerard...uhh...G-Gerard Delacroix...¡±
¡°Good girl...and the contact in Switzerland...¡±
¡°...nnggg...please, Herr Hauptmann...don¡¯t m-make me...¡±
¡°Come on, child, tell me...¡±
¡°unnhhh..I...I...musn¡¯t...¡±
He thrusts into her angrily feeling the fullness of her big bleeding
tits against his shirt her soft belly against his hard leather belt.
¡°Don¡¯t make me lose my patience with you again...¡±
¡°...I...ughh...oh God...no! I will not tell you! Kill me if you will
but I will not tell you!¡±
He slides out of her and stares at her. He is dangerously furious.
¡°What did you say, Fraulein?¡±
Somehow she has found her courage again but he can see that is tenuous,
hanging on by a thread. Still he is outraged. This bitch must pay
severely.
¡°Are you saying you will NOT tell me?!¡±
A hint of fire comes back into her pretty eyes.
¡°I will NEVER tell you! NEVER! You are a filthy COWARD and an ANIMAL!¡±
His first instinct is to take out his Luger and blow her brains out but
slowly he regains control. The fury on his face slowly disappears and
is replaced by an icy sneer which makes Helga look down at the ground
and tremble with terror.
He raises her head back up, tilting it up by her chin as he slides the
spiked ball back into her mouth.
¡°You will tell, bitch...¡± he says knowingly, confidently... ¡°I
guarantee it. You will tell.¡±
