Chapter 1
The news order wasn't exactly what Helga Stern anticipated when the Imperial Order recruited her. She was told that the Imperial Order's idea of a new order was to make America a better place for those whose roots were totally pure.
Totally pure by race, color and creed.
Totally pure by being drug free.
Totally pure by being crime free.
Pure was a matter of definition.
The Imperial Order's definition was a takeoff on that of Germany of the 1930s, where anyone disagreeing with it was dealt with harshly.
Cruelly.
Without regard to anything that Helga thought of as civilized.
She should know.
Her parents survived the horrors of Nazi Germany and emigrated to America. They survived because they kept quiet about what they saw happening. They turned their heads. They never forgot the elixir of power however. They had brought their own story to the ears of their daughter.
They told her how it was better to ignore the plights of their neighbors in Stuttgart. How to ignore the knocks on the doors of their neighbors at the darkest hours of night. How to close their ears to the screams of those taken in the night.
Helga's father, Richter, was an area warden in the early years of the war. He supervised the comings and goings of the area assigned to him by the Oberstormkapitan for the southern part of the city.
He never told Helga how much he participated in the terror of the Reich.
She found out after he had died.
She was rummaging through his old steamer trunk in the attic, getting ready to sort out Richter's old clothing and the memories of a very long life. She came upon some faded photographs locked in an old style diary. While the photographs were faded, the indelible expressions on them were etched forever in Helga's mind.
They were pictures of Helga's mother, wearing the dreaded deaths head insignia of the SS. Leafing through the stack of faded memories, more and more of her mother's background was revealed.
One photograph was a group photo showing Fraulein Stern in front of the Ravensbruck camp. Her blond hair and Nordic looks were prominent. Helga's mother had been a strikingly beautiful woman in a country that prized the pure Aryan look more than any other. The women surrounding Fraulein Stern were all dressed in the same uniform as her mother.
In front of the group, a naked woman, her head shaved, was kneeling with her head bowed in the dirt. Her arms and wrists were bound behind her back. Around her neck was a crudely lettered sign which said in German: I am a lesbian whore criminal. Punish me while I eat more pussy.
The cruel smiles on the guards showed their obvious enjoyment at the prisoners torment.
Several photographs later showed the bound woman with her face between each of the guards thighs. Her guards faces showed their obvious pleasure at having the prisoner eat them out.
The last photograph showed the bald headed woman, still naked and still bound, hung by the neck from a crude telephone pole.
A new sign was hanging around her neck.
It read: Please hang me as an example of a poorly trained lesbian whore. I did not eat pussy welt enough to live. The guards were standing in a circle around the hung prisoner, apparently laughing and pointing at her with their riding crops.
Helga dropped the pictures as though an electric shock had driven through her.
Sensations that she never experienced before in her entire life were rapidly welling up inside of her.
Her cunt lips tingled, and she knew that she had wet her panties. They were moist. Something about those pictures, forbidden as they were, tremendously excited her.
Her mother had died when Helga was born. She had waited too long to have children and the labor and birth of the long awaited golden haired child, was too much for Fraulein Stern's mature body.
Helga was raised by Richter, and his tales of old Germany were long and colorful. He left out the gory details. His little girl would find out eventually of the misdeeds, of his past. Richter couldn't bear any more pain, and kept his secrets to his grave.
His steamer trunk told all that he did not tell his beautiful daughter.
Helga's allegiance to her parents, and her strict upbringing, always put her apart from her friends. She was treated as somewhat of an outcast all through her formative years. Perhaps that is why the young speaker's railings about the Imperial Order were so easily understood by Helga now.
She heard Tim exhort the small crowd of students to believe in the new order ...
"Just BELIEVE! ... in the Imperial Order ...
"Just BELIEVE in our cause ...
His speech was as dramatic as the demagogues of old, complete with fist raising, arm swinging, and a bombastic voice.
"In the name of all that is good for mankind, I am only asking that you BELIEVE ... !"
And Helga believed.
When the Imperial Order recruited her on the campus of Seattle University, she at first didn't want to even acknowledge that she listened to their frantic speeches.
The speaker was a firebrand of the first order.
Tim Flannery had long red hair and a pock marked face. It seemed to fit the desperation in his tone whenever he extolled the wrongs of America. As he castigated those in power his face would turn as red as his hair. He seemed totally convinced by his ideas and convictions and let all within earshot know it.
And if they were not within earshot, he used a bullhorn to bellow his beliefs.
After listening to a few of Tim's speeches, Helga was curious, then interested. Helga remembered her father's many long conversations. His beliefs in the old order, started to coincide with what the fiery speaker was saying about the new order.
She usually stayed in the back of the small gatherings that listened to his speeches, and eventually became convinced that America was going to the dogs.
"The lords of cocaine should be taken out and summarily shot ... !" he exhorted.
"The lords of drugged America should be treated like the dogs of drugs ... !" he extolled.
Tim Flannery was on a roll. "The lords of drugs, the dogs of drugs, should be rounded up! No search and seizure!"
A murmur started in the crowd.
"No! Ordinary rules no longer apply! Fuck the search and seizure laws! It's time for a change!!!"
Helga was fascinated by his speech.
She had seen several of her old neighborhood friends in the crowd, and didn't feel so alone anymore.
"Fuck the drug lords! We no how to deal with them!" came the rallying cry.
"Students!! Tim shouted louder now. "The new order is upon you!"
Several cries of 'right on motherfucker' came from somewhere. Helga didn't know if it was meant to be derisive or not.
She saw two burly guys thwack a bespectacled student in the kidneys with a billy club, then walk away.
She decided the shout came from a heckler.
"Join us! We shall show you a new way to the future! All hail our leader!!"
The crowd answered with a mimicking cheer.
The Imperial Order was going to do away with crime and drugs. They just needed a few more dedicated soldiers.
Helga wanted to become one of the new order.
She would eventually became a willing soldier.
She would eventually find out that the new order was not what she had anticipated when she first heard Tim's flaming oratory.
She would find herself taken back in time, to those dusty graying photographs that she had seen in her father's steamer trunk.
She would become a swastika bitch of the first order.
And love every minute of it.
The Imperial Order was no longer a clandestine organization. They had seen what had happened to the Klan and the Aryan Brotherhood by staying underground. The Imperial Order had become a storefront political organization.
By being very blatant and open in their beliefs, they were able to recruit the muscle they needed to back up their strong political beliefs. As a result, an Imperial Order recruiting center stood on almost every main street in every major college town in the West.
They were now just starting to make the same inroads in the more conservative Midwest.
The Imperial Order's symbol was the swastika. Like their forefathers in Germany, the black twisted cross set against a blood red background, struck terror into the minds of who ever were luckless enough to cross their path.
The Order liked to recruit women. They recruited as many tough women as they could get.
There was something unspoken in their code: Women seemed to be able to inflict the worst cruelty on other women. Men didn't even come close to what a woman could think of doing to another woman she did not like.
And when it came to men, the Imperial Order had found the perfect tool to subvert, convert, or get rid of those they found troublesome.
Women could connive, control, dominate and waste a man easier than men could. The macho link that men have with their fellow men, was broken in an instant by recruiting and using women.
The Imperial Order was started by a genius. And that genius was Tim Flannery to the public.
But Tina Flannery to her followers.
Tina Flannery was a bull dyke. A flaming lesbian dyke who loved women all her life.
She had decided at an early age, when her drunken father had repeatedly raped her, that all men were bastards and deserved to burn in hell.
Tina had become almost a recluse after her father's repeated attacks. She was afraid to do anything to cross him. She developed a strong bond with a neighbor woman who always let her cry on her lap after her father had beat her or raped her.
Tina Flannery was introduced into the ways of lesbian love by her neighbor Doris. She knew only comfort and safety in the arms of the woman. She knew only hurt, terror, fear and anger in the arms of her father.
Tina Flannery's life was shaped at an early age.
She was also a genius.
She adopted the mannish style and mannerisms that she used to get the Imperial Order off the ground because she was wise enough to know that it was still a man's world.
She had long ago vowed that all men would pay for her father's abuse. She would use their own weaknesses against them.
She would know only comfort in hurting them by hurting their women. Her studies of psychology told her that this was truly the way to gain control of men's thoughts, deeds, and money.
She needed all three if her new order were to succeed. Tina Flannery was determined that it would succeed.
And she would have her fill of love and lust along the way.
Helga was cut from the cloth of a superbitch.
She had never known her mother.
But the photographs in the trunk told her everything she needed to know.
She also knew the feeling that welled up inside of her.
She also knew the incredibly hot flash of sexual yearning that started in the pit of her stomach at her first glimpse of the bald headed woman in bondage.
She also knew that she had an orgasm when she looked at the last photograph. She wanted to be a part of something that was in her blood.
Helga signed up for the Imperial Order the day after Tim's speech.
She never looked back.
"Fucking cunt!" Helga shouted at the terrified coed.
"W ... what did I do?" the brunette answered. The terrified girl was standing in a room with no windows. The door was bolted. She had been brought here by the blonde haired girl that had asked to buy some of her stash.
She didn't know it would come to this.
"I said TELL ME WHO YOUR SUPPLIER IS!!" Helga's eyes smoldered with anger.
Is she a narc? the brunette's thoughts were slow to respond.
"I ... I ... d ... didn't do anything," the girl sniffled as she tried to regain her composure. "What did I do?" she asked innocently.
"You know damn well what you did!" Helga's voice rose.
"N ... no ... I ... uh ...
SMACK!!
Helga's right fist shot out and landed a full handed blow across the young girl's face.
SMACK!!
SMACK!!
Two more blows landed in quick succession on the other side of her face.
SMACK!!
A final blow landed on her right cheek. This time a doubled fist.
The girl was sobbing now.
She was terrified.
Her face started to puff up where Helga landed her fist, and she was shaking uncontrollably.
Helga smiled when she saw the puddle forming at the girl's feet.
She had wet her pants.
"I ask the questions around here BITCH!" she shouted.
Another blow landed on her face.
The brunette was really terrified now. She thought she must be in the hands of a madwoman. Maybe the joint was laced with PCP.
The blonde had seemed so sweet when she asked her if she could buy some dope. What could have happened to make her turn on her like this.
A primal instinct she didn't know was in her surfaced and the girl swung her right foot out, catching Helga off guard.
"OOOF ...!" the rush of air escaped Helga's mouth.
"Why you CUNT!" she yelled, catching the girl's ankle on the way back down.
With a vicious twist, Helga turned the girl in a flip onto her stomach, her face crashing into the floor as she totally lost her balance.
STOMP ...
TWHACK ...
Helga's hobnailed boots started delivering swift kicks to the hapless girls body.
"You fucking ... whore ... dope f ... fiend!!" Helga's voice came in spurts.
She continued kicking the sobbing girl.
"You perverted motherfucker!"
"AAAAAGHHHH ... " the brunette screamed as the toe of Helga's boot caught her right between the lips of her pussy.
"I'll kick your cunt to kingdom come you bitch!" she yelled, still venting her fury on the hapless girl.
"You will tell me everything you know about your connections or you won't have a cunt to flick around with anymore, got it sister?", her face was inches above the girl's now.
She reached down and grabbed the girl by the hair, pulling her head off the floor with an awful jerk.
"OWWWWWWWW!"
"What do you mean, ow?" she laughed as she pulled even harder now.
In her terrified state, the girl tried to fight back, uselessly swinging her arm behind her to try and grab Helga's arm.
"Oh? Want to fight back?" Helga hissed.
She grabbed the girls arm with her free hand and twisted it into a painful hammerlock.
"OWWWWW ... OH PLEASE ... OWWWWWW ... PLEASE ... STOP ... DONT ... the girl was sputtering now, her body in terrible pain.
Bruises were starting to rise on her thighs and ribs where Helga's boots had bit horribly into her flesh. The pressure on her wrist felt like that of the largest vise ever made. The girl thought her hair would be pulled out in handfuls by the very roots.
She tried to roll away but Helga planted a knee in the small of her back. Then she leaned down hard.
"OOOOMPH ... "
The girl was out of breath now.
"Talk BITCH!"
The girl could not answer.
"I SAID TALK!!" Helga was wild with fury now. She had subdued the hapless coed and was going to get the information she wanted if she had to beat the girl within an inch of her life.
SLAP!!
SLAP!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!
She released the girl's hair and started slapping her face, side to side.
"P ... PLEEEASE ... D ... DON'T HIT ME ANYMORE!" the girl screamed.
SLAP!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SLAP!!
Helga continued slapping the girl until her face was a mass of reddening contusions. The girl's eyes were swelling up rapidly. She couldn't see anymore through her pain filled lids.
She was slowly lapsing into unconsciousness.
A state of unconsciousness would be a relief.
But Helga would not let her go this easy.
It had all started out so innocently. The girl's fog filled brain was still trying to sort out what had gone wrong so quickly.
She was in the rest room.
She had noticed the blonde enter and go into a cubicle.
From over the top of the door, the girl had asked her if she had any marijuana on her.
Not being sure who the blonde was, the girl was careful in her reply.
"Maybe," she said.
The sound of flushing was met with the swinging open of the toilet door as Helga stepped out.
The girl took in the sight of the gorgeous creature coming out of the cubicle.
She was honey blonde. Tanned. And had a figure that was displayed to the hilt in a spandex leather miniskirt and high heeled shoes. The girl had no lesbian feelings, but the sight of this gorgeous example of femininity started a tingle in her pussy that quickly grew to desire.
As they exchanged small talk, the girl felt more and more comfortable with Helga and agreed to sell her some dope.
She told Helga that it was in her locker and they agreed to walk together to get it.
As they walked down the hallway together, the girl was getting more and more excited by Helga's sexy hip swaying walk. She felt the stirrings of lesbian lust deep in her cunt, and was trying to find the right words of encouragement. She wanted to initiate something.
She decided that after she had sold Helga the grass, perhaps they could smoke a joint and relax. The girl was sure that once they were in a mellow mood, she could find the courage to make an advance.
That had seemed like hours ago now.
As she laid under the merciless fury of Helga Stern, all thoughts of lesbian lust were coldly dashed. She could only think of the pain enveloping her entire body. She wanted to pass out.
But couldn't.
"Okay, cunt, one last chance," Helga demanded.
"Unnnnnhh ... " the girl groaned.
"Who is your supplier, and how do I contact them?" she asked.
"I ... I ... d ... don't know ... OWWWWWWWWW ... ARGGGGHHHHHHH ... "
Helga had just twisted the girl's hammer locked wrist beyond her head, pulling her shoulder out of joint.
The girl fought back now in sheer abject terror.
She was panic stricken as her legs started to kick and thrash wildly. Her body was on fire with pain. She only wanted it to stop.
But she couldn't land a blow anywhere.
"Why you ... " Helga screamed as she tightened her grip once again.
"Do you want me to break this off you cunt??" she screamed.
"N ... ARGGGHHHH ... "
Helga twisted harder.
The girl's kicking increased to wild thrashing, her toes mashing against the hard floor.
Skin broke.
Bones started snapping.
Helga was now in a blind rage.
Her captive was now in sheer protective terror. Her limbs were thrashing about to protect herself, not caring what happened to her any longer. She just wanted the awful pain to stop.
It didn't.
CRACK ... !
Helga's fist crashed into the back of the girl's neck.
At first she thought the girl went limp. Then she felt a calve thrusting wildly into her pussy. She was straddling the girl, her knee pressing into the small of the girl's back without mercy. It left her pussy open and vulnerable.
The girl found her Achilles Heel.
THAWUMP ... !
Helga rolled off, her cunt on fire. She felt like someone had landed a hot poker on it. The girl had kicked her hard. Filled with adrenalin from her fear, the girl's leg had the power of a jack hammer as it smacked into Helga's cunt.
Her body shuddered under the startling blow.
A shattering explosion of pain hit her brain.
"SO ... YOU ... F ... FUCKING ... C ... CUNT!" Helga caught her breath as the pain started coursing upwards.
It flew in milliseconds from her cunt lips into and through her vagina and traveled up the nerve endings along her spinal cord, then through the cords in her neck, finally registering in a maniacal scream in her brain.
The girl was going to pay severely now.
She grabbed for the girl's hair again, this time pulling her head back until she heard something snap. The body under her went limp as a rag doll.
Helga sobered up immediately. The intense rage subsided almost as quickly as it had built.
"Geezus ... "she started to say.
The girl under her was silent.
The room seemed to be closing in on her.
"Geezus ... f ... fucking ... GEEZUS ... " she shouted.
No one could hear her.
She had dislocated the girl's fifth lumbar bone, pinching her spinal cord, effectively paralyzing her. Helga didn't know the damage could be repaired. She thought she had killed her.
This was not the new order she had anticipated.
This was not the new order the Imperial Order had told her about when they recruited her.
She didn't know why, but another wave of power, and feeling started coursing through her.
She was trembling.
She had only wanted to terrify the girl.
Not kill her.
She reached down and laid her fingers along the girl's neck feeling for a pulse.
Satisfied that she was still alive, she slowly got up off the naked back. The girl looked like a rag doll laying in a heap beneath her.
Helga looked around in panic.
Was there anyone else in the building?
She thought she heard footsteps approaching in the hallway.
She had to get out of there.
She couldn't get caught.
The Imperial Order would suffer if she were caught.
There was too much left to do to be caught. She quickly glanced at her watch. They had only been in the room for five minutes. To Helga, it seemed like five hours. The air in the room seemed oppressively warm. She had to get out of there.
She wanted to flee.
Taking one last look around, she found her purse on the floor where it had been kicked during their struggle. Gathering it up, she tucked it under her arm and put her hand on the door knob.
Carefully, she opened the door and peered into the hallway. It was deserted.
Her high heels clicked loudly as she rushed down the hallway and through the double door of the women's gymnasium.
She ran as fast as her heels would allow her. When she couldn't run any longer, she stopped and took them off. Then, in her stocking feet, she sprinted the last two blocks to the safety of the Imperial Order headquarters.
"T ... Tina!" she gasped as she rushed into the room.
"What the heck?" Tina Flannery looked up from her desk to see a thoroughly disheveled Helga Stern coming through the door.
"Tina!" Helga gasped.
Coming up from behind the desk, Tina rushed to her friend's side, steadying her, allowing her to catch her breath.
"There, there, baby. It's okay. Tell me all about it," she said.
"Oh my Oberfuhrer, Ich macht nicht gut ... " Helga lapsed into her father's native tongue as she started to tell of her encounter in the women's gym.