8 Prinz-Albrecht-Strasse (part 3)
Muscles stiff and aching,
back against the cold wall,
arms stretched over head,
scared, naked and shivering
Bare light bulb overhead,
casting my shadow,
across the floor,
and halfway up far wall
Hours pass, no sense of time
Is it daytime, cannot tell?
must be by now,
I am very hungry
Interrogators have begun their work,
I hear them talking,
moving down the corridor,
boots pounding on the floor
Keys jangle, a door opens,
someone down the way,
is dragged from their cell,
pleading and crying
Past my cell in a blur,
three men manhandling,
a single victim,
shouts and blows
Every so often,
the scene repeats,
one by one the cells,
are emptied
Down the corridor,
screams and shrieks,
only god knows,
what goes on down there
Keys jangle once again,
but this time its for me,
door swings open,
three men stride in
Well fraulein Hahn,
your turn has come,
we trust you haven’t
been waiting too long
chortles the lead man,
moving close,
foul breath,
in my face
He reaches out,
and cups my breast,
tweaking my nipple,
with his thumb
Very nice,
He murmurs,
cupping the other,
and tweaking same
I grit my teeth,
and glare at him,
as his hand moves,
slowly downward
I turn my head away,
as he palms my mound,
probes a finger,
along my crevice
He applies pressure,
I bear down
and instinctively,
press my thighs together
To no avail,
he soon works,
his finger in,
moving in and out
I gasp and turn my head,
from side to side
helpless to resist,
his unwanted intrusion
Well good enough,
he declares to the other,
Fraulein Hahn seems,
quite ready and eager
“You bastards,”
I hiss,
as they take,
me down
And bundle,
me out the door,
and down the corridor,
for “questioning”
Into a room,
I am shoved,
a large table,
in the center
From the table,
other men,
are removing,
a naked woman
She is unconscious,
limp in their grip,
her body covered,
with marks of the whip
As she passes,
I study her face,
instant recognition,
a co-worker
Two offices,
down from mine,
secretarial assistant,
to a Wehrmacht general
Blood and filth,
washed away,
from the metal table
with a bucket
You are next,
fraulein Hahn,
your table awaits you,
I am told mockingly
Hands under my arms
others gripping my feet,
hoisted unceremoniously,
on to the cold metal surface
Arms secured overhead,
ankles shackled in place,
my tight little ass flattened,
against the table top
Wrenching my chin,
aside to face him,
he stares menacingly,
into my fearful eyes
Now fraulein Hahn,
it is time to talk,
tell us everything,
about the plotting
There must have been meetings, yes?
People coming and going,
Who were they, how often did they come?
We want names and dates
And notes must have been taken,
You are a stenographer,
They must have been taken by you,
Where are they fraulein Hahn?
“I don’t know what,
you are talking about,”
I stammer in confusion,
terror rising inside of me
We have ways,
of making you talk,
He sneers at me,
and looks to his men
Two long wires,
are suddenly produced,
each one tipped with,
a nasty looking saw-tooth clip
“Oh God, no, please,”
I plead and begin to squirm,
as he mounds a breast
and teases my nipple
Then he affixes the clamp,
it hurts like hell,
and I scream,
“Ow, please, no please!”
Before I know it,
he has done the same,
to my other,
poor breast
And now he dangles,
in front of my face,
a third wire,
with an even larger clip
As I squirm and buck,
he reaches between my thighs,
spreads my vulva,
and attaches the clip
“My God, that hurts,
please I beg of you,
I know nothing,
don’t do this please”
He nods to his henchmen,
and suddenly,
the most awful,
wave of pain assaults me
My breasts are on fire,
my loins are burned,
I push with my heels,
and arch my back
My screams and shrieks,
echo off the walls,
I twist and turn,
my breasts jiggle and shake
Then he turns the current off,
and I collapse,
shuddering and shaking,
my head buzzing
Again fraulein Hahn?
“No, no, please, no”
He does it again,
I scream and buck
Three more times,
and then a rest,
panting, aching,
covered with sweat
Enough for now,
he purrs in my ear,
Take her away,
back to her cell
Give her a while,
to think and remember,
next time she will
be sure to tell
Or else……..
TO BE CONTINUED
Barbaria, 2014
. Hmmmm. Wonder what methods they will use? Suggestions anyone?
Always open to suggestions....
. Just like the big studios in the good old days. You appear at my command. Roll the credits. See there your are. Enter stage right.
