Chapter 3

Field Work

When she awakened again she was in a well lit room. Her first impression was that of an infirmary of some kind. She felt exhausted, but managed to turn her head. At the door she saw a Brownshirt Wacht. Her recollections streamed in upon her and she lay in silent foreboding.

She had never been so vilely treated before. Any thought of honor, of civility, was gone from these vicious Nazis. These people, it seemed to Simone, lived in a subhuman way.

It was not simply the sexual conduct, she had been sexually active since just before puberty. On the farm, that was how all the children were-It was more the depraved, overbearing, and unfeeling nature of the sexual act as performed by her captors, that was so repulsive to her.

Her childhood had been quite different. Even when, at puberty, her grandfather would still let her sleep in his bed with him. Grandmama would always make remarks if she found out, but Simone would wait until the house was quiet and she knew grandfather would be in bed. Then she would go into his room, slip under the covers, and, making herself into a ball, curl up against him. He would never send her away.

Sometimes she slept so soundly that grandmama's maid would find them together in the morning, but Simone knew the maid never said anything to grandmama. Simone had come from a very closely knit and protective family, and perhaps her recent experiences were not atypical of the rest of the country s sexual habits. Nonetheless she preferred less violent intercourse

Simone's recollections of her youth included only one incident of violence: The taking of her cherry. Her father's huge agricultural estate featured a large home which was built in 1572. In the entryway of the house stood a solid oak wall in which the names and birthdates of all of the children born of the de Schnois family were inlaid by carpenters. The structure of the house itself had been rebuilt three times, but the four cellars and the wooden wall were never altered.

Her fairyland world ended with her puberty which coincided with the beginning of the war, the Anschluss, or joining of Austria to the Reich. That was... what? 1938? She remembered that she had been at her grandfather's farm near Laufenburg between school semesters. There, everyone would eat together in a common dining room with the farm hands and peasants, for grandfather refused to take meals apart in a separate room like the other landowners did.

But everyone had to do some kind of work. Except guests. One day, Simone recalled clearly, she did not want to do her particular chore, and remarked about it at the table. Grandfather told her she should be glad of such light work instead of having to work in the fields like the peasants. But Simone had been a self-willed child and she said she would rather work in the fields because that could be no harder than the chore she had. The peasants at the table roared with laughter and Simone got angry. But her grandfather made no argument, he simply agreed to let her work in the fields.

In the potato fields she had to keep up with the peasants as a matter of pride, and she had never worked so hard in her life. She was working what seemed to be a particularly difficult row, working alongside the field foreman. He kept moving on, without stopping or tiring, and she followed after.

A time came when she felt she had no strength left. Sweat poured down her face in streams, ran into her eyes, dripped off her nose, drenching her back. Her hands and knees were bruised and bleeding.

She had to exert all of her strength to keep up with the peasants, but she was glad, because she knew that she would be able to hold out. The following rows were already easier.

Then her grandfather rode up in his carriage and had his coachman stop near her. She continued working, filling her bag, obstinately not looking at him.

The field foreman called to her and pointed to the carriage. Grandfather waved her over to him. He looked at her with a mixture of concern and amusement. Simone remembered. "You've learned your lesson; you won't speak out again. Climb out of that dress as soon as you get home, though-it's a fright. Well, why do you stand there? Get in. I'll drive you back to the house."

Simone refused. Insisted on staying until the peasants quit at sundown.

She almost, enjoyed her task then. But when sundown came, she did not care whether she would ever see another potato. Tired, but relaxed, she had started walking home alone through the eerie light of the room.

Suddenly, she felt a rough hand around her face and another around her waist, lifting her slender young body off the ground. She had never before known a moment of fear in her life, and she had no real fear then. She tried to scream, to struggle, as she felt herself being pulled down among tall weeds and grasses.

She looked into the eyes of one of the peasant men.

"You hot little bitch!" he grunted. "Think you can come out here and flaunt your tight little ass all day, and then prance up to the big house, snubbing your admirers, eh?"

Simone felt the first genuine panic in her life then. The peasant pulled a rag out of his shirt and stuffed it in Simone's mouth. She kicked and scratched, but she was tired, and. probably unequal to the burly peasant's strength anyway.

She closed her eyes against the embarrassment of having her dress torn from her body. She did not yet wear a bra, and her white pert breasts gleamed with the sweat of hard work under the bright moon. The peasant clutched greedily at the soft spongy white of her still under-developed, tits. Simone struggled even harder when she felt the peasant yank off her undergarments to reveal her pussy with its few scanty hairs. The huge heavy hands were spreading her slender, work-exhausted legs then, and with a grunt he threw off his own pants.

His body was swarthy, muscular. A huge male organ pointed accusingly at Simone, standing at right angles to his belly.

Desperately, the virginal Simone tried to kick, but the rough strong hands were pressing her virginal tits and Simone, could merely cry bitter tears of shame and of fear.

But her attacker did not seem to notice the tears streaming from her eyes, for, grunting like a pig, he took his massive dark penis in his hand and put it at the entrance to her virginal private parts. She could feel the dirt against her naked back as the man's arms pushed her pitilessly against the hard ground.

He thrust violently, and Simone's cry of pain and shame was lost beneath the gag in her mouth. Simone listened to the abhorrent guttural lust-filled grunts of the peasant as he struggled to break her cherry.

There was only one brief sharp pain that ripped through Simone's slender virginal body. She heard the unmistakable gasp of the peasant's surprise when the head of his cock jabbed her hymen, and then with her legs flailing wildly in a vain attempt to forestall her denigration, she felt the brutal pole penetrate her final barrier and thrust cruelly up high into her untried vagina.

That initial penetration was followed by a sequence of rhythmic thrusts, and Simone could feel his heavy, sperm-filled testicles against her quivering buttocks.

Simone was taut with pain, unmoving except for the flood of tears which flowed freely down her face. She was soon dizzy with shame and anguish, as the peasant's massive penis threatened to rip her apart down below. The man's garlic breath nauseated Simone, as he puffed and grunted with growing passion. Clutching Simone's shoulders tightly to himself, the peasant, increased his lewd fury. Simone felt as though her virginal parts were on fire, and her humiliation grew as the shock of surprise and confusion wore off.

She had time then to consider her own responses to this debasement. It was certainly not as gentle, nor as painful, as she had been made to believe by the talk of other girls. She learned that if she moved ever so slightly beneath her attacker, however, that the ache was somewhat abated. But when she began to move beneath him, the peasant's motions increased in speed and ferocity, and his testicles slapped against her fanny harder.

Nonetheless, Simone realized that the strange sensation was welling up within her, and she was unsure what that sensation was. Simone's reflections had been interrupted, when a shadow abruptly fell across the moon. Startled, she opened her eyes and renewed her struggles. Standing over Simone and her attacker were more peasants, their leering faces outlined in the specter of the moon. As Simone gazed at them unbelieving, they all removed their trousers, revealing monstrously erect male organs. Some of them began to fondle their penises when they saw the peasant raping her start to climax. Simone winced as she felt the load of sperm hit the bruised walls of her virginal passage, dripping back from her hole with every backward thrust of the peasant's tool.

The peasant rose from her limp form grunting and laughing. Simone still struggled, but where could she run now? "A virgin! Nice and tight in there," he said with a tone of what seemed to be admiration.

As she feared, the second peasant pounced upon her involuntarily scissoring legs. As this young man jabbed his erection through her recently opened tissues, Simone felt she would die with shame. Not only was she being deflowered, on the filthy soil; others were seeing her being shamefully abused.

The second peasant was pummeling her in his passion, his penis driving in and out brutally as waves of pain inundated her burning body. But her previous ravisher had lubricated her corrugated walls, which made this violation easier to bear.

Body screaming in pain, mind tortured with the shame and humiliation, Simone tried to separate herself from the horror of the spectacle she made. She felt the heavy sawing of the man's rod, felt the thickness throbbing against the stinging walls of her innermost portals, felt the prickly pubic hair against her almost hairless pubic mons. The action was making flatulent sounds in the sticky wetness between her thighs, in the fluids put there by her first rapist.

Again Simone experienced the sensations of a man ejaculating into her quivering insides. Each thrust inward deposited what felt like a huge gob of hot sticky scum. She heard one of the other peasants grunts, and felt a sticky hot splash upon her face. She looked up in horror. The field foreman was pumping out his semen all over Simone's helpless body. Her second rapist withdrew, slapping her playfully on her flank as he did so.

Simone tried to turn her face away from the rush of semen. Another splash landed between her well-developing breasts as a third peasant knelt between her thighs in the moonlight.

She felt as though she were numb in the crotch. The third entry was heavy and dull-feeling. Simone was shaking with the tension of the moment but her hands were clenching and unclenching as her ass bounced spastically in time to the outrage. Another massive male tool was pushed deeper and deeper. She felt it force apart the very furthest part of her vagina and lodge tightly in her bowels. She wished that she could be sick, she felt so full. But she knew the gag in her mouth would probably suffocate her with her own vomit.

The peasant clutched the round smooth globes of her buttocks and raised them to permit further entry. He began to pump in and out then, and Simone was feeling the entire length of his manmeat. Strong deep strokes increased in speed and strength as his balls slapped wetly on the girl's bruised and swollen virgin pussy lips. The funny sensation which Simone could not at first identify was growing stronger. The pain was subsiding and she could feel her own juices begin to pour freely.

Then followed a hard insistent throbbing deep within her, that reached from the most secret recesses of her body to the very edge of her sphincter. Her womb was driving her body to pulsate with a strange new life.

Her muscles were contracting, as though operated without her voluntary will, around the brutally invading penis. Her secret little nubbin right above the place she made pee seemed to swell. Simone realized then that she was melting, her whole insides dripping with thick warm sex fluids.

The ravishing peasant, was still humping cruelly upon her, but the sensation was now one of titillation, almost of pleasure. When Simone was finally aware that she was feeling sensual pleasure, she was appalled at her own perversity. What could be wrong with her to respond so lasciviously? Her cunny muscles were rippling convulsively, her ass jumping lewdly to clutch greedily at the raping fucktool of her attacker.

She tried by sheer effort of will to turn off the sensation, but it was already out of control. She was unable to stop her ass cheeks from making tiny little semicircles as her legs held her ass high off the dirt, helping; worse, inviting, the man to take her this way.

More humiliated than ever, Simone surrendered to the feeling with frustration. That feeling grew rapidly now, tossing her whole body from side to side in convulsive tremors of spastic spasms.

Simone remembered very little after that. She somehow made it home and to bed. She cleaned herself off and carefully avoided being near any of the field workers the remainder of the summer. Even so, mealtimes were a humiliating experience. She never spoke to her grandfather about the incident, and the fact that she did not, made her feel, if possible, even more guilt-ridden.

Abruptly, Simone's thoughts were interrupted by the entry into her room of two matrons. They were war-hardened stout women, wearing crisp white blouses and severe blue skirts which reached halfway down between knees and ankles.

Roughly and wordlessly they took Simone from the cot and dragged her, naked, through the hallways to a Spartan office building near the far end of a courtyard. Simone had no doubt now that she was inside a prison.

In a room that was bare except for two chairs, she was deposited on one of the wooden chairs. The seat was so cold that it made her ass cheeks burn with the odd sensation. Her tender pussylips were spread open, flat on the hard cold seat, and the feeling was so delicious that for several moments Simone almost forgot where she was. She squirmed, savoring the icy caress on her pussy. After awhile she crossed her legs and swayed from side to side, ever so slightly, to expose all of her tender membranes to the delightful sensation.

She experienced all the possible nuances on that hard chair during what seemed like six hours, while she was left to sit there without food or water. Finally a pre-occupied Hauptmann-captain-entered from another door and seated himself heavily on the other chair in the room facing Simone.

"Fraulein de Schnois. We have arrested all of the others involved in the plot to smuggle Nazi officers' uniforms to escaped Polish prisoners of war. There is no use denying your own involvement, you understand? Good. We will proceed. I want you to tell me the names of everyone, you understand? Good. Proceed."

"I know of no one else, Herr Hauptmann. I am innocent of smuggling... check with my father-"

"Your family cannot get you out of this. One of the POWs was riding with you in your compartment on the train. We have two witnesses, two schoolteachers. Highly reliable, you understand? Good. You must have had some authority to be that close to the situation. I want you to tell me the names of everyone, even the names of the enemy prisoners of war you fraternized with. You understand?"

"Look, I'm 'innocent. I know many good Nazis who will vouch for my character... there is Kurt Schnedler, a Standartenfuhrer..."

"We have witnesses..."

"How do you know the schoolteachers weren't involved?"

"Don't interrupt, you stupid schoolgirl!"

It was a ridiculous position for Simone to take, she, knew. The schoolteachers were probably the mothers of boys who had fought and died on the front. But she also knew that her only chance of getting out of this before the end of the war was to outsmart these woodenheaded soldiers. Furthermore, she saw that while the Hauptmann sat rigidly proper, his eyes traveled everywhere over her nude body.

He continued leering at her nudity, focusing on her smooth ripe breasts, while he continued talking coolly, but repetitiously. "You don't understand. That is unfortunate. You are a university student and presumably intelligent. You should know that there is no trail available to you. This is wartime and you have committed a war crime. If you cooperate, things can be made more comfortable for you. You are, as I said, presumably intelligent. Therefore, you will be treated that way until you prove otherwise," he intoned while his eyes fixed on her tightly crossed thighs. "Not all prisoners are thrown-uh, suffer whatever fate might befall them. You understand? Good. You will, I am sure, cooperate. By way of illustration of what can happen if you do not prove as intelligent as I would, er, hope, may I escort you on a tour of our facility? It is Lehrterstrasse."

"In Berlin?" Simone asked, and sadly watched him confirm her question with a nod. There had been rumors of Berliners complaining of the wailing in wintertime that came from behind the walls of Lehrterstrasse at night.

Numbly, Simone followed the Hauptmann through the door and down many steps. They passed no one in the hall until they came to a window. Around the window, which entered into another room, stood several guards who were looking through the window with an aura of anticipation.

Simone stood, clumsily trying to hide her nudity from the many eyes and simultaneously to look inside the window itself.

The Hauptmann's voice droned on "We are replicating the experiments of Dr. Rascher which were originally undertaken at Dachau in 1942. We find that Berlin is colder, and thus more suitable, you understand?"

Beyond the window Simone saw a bed, with a man lying naked upon it. The color of his skin was somehow wrong, bluish grey and mottled with white. Is he dead? Simone asked with repulsion.

"No. He was frozen in an ice bath for experiments which we hope will provide information regarding life-support for German airmen who are forced to land in the colds of Russia. For example, we have found that we can reduce the body core temperature, as measured rectally, to twenty-five degrees Centigrade, and the patient will recover so long as the head and neck are kept warm. The hypothalamus seems to be the critical organ of temperature maintenance. You understand? Good "

The poor man," Simone muttered.

"Not a man-a Jew. But if you feel so sorry for him, why don't we let you go inside and warm him up, eh? Would you like to hold his hand?" the Hautptmann suggested, pushing Simone through the door. Two other naked women were sitting on a bench just inside the doorway. They looked haggard and tired, Simone thought, and the fear in their eyes shone like that of trapped animals when come upon by the hunter.

The room smelled. It did not have the odor of vomit and excrement which she anticipated, but a bittersweet scent. The smell of charred rubber bog gas, and blood. The smell of old cardboard rotting in a swamp. All around the room, the hunkering men watched Simone's nudity avidly.

Simone looked at the frozen prisoner. Naked, deathly grey, purple and crimson veins crisscrossing his milky skin like a roadmap. Hairless, nostrils dilating as he breathed shallowly, slowly. The orbits of his eyes were larger than they should have been, and through his slack lips Simone saw the rows of jagged, discolored teeth.

Simone, only gradually realizing now what was expected of her, tried to pull back. But the Hauptmann roughly lifted her and threw her down beside the still-blue-grey man.

The icy cold of his flesh made Simone shiver uncontrollably. He was less like a man than a frozen fish.

"Snuggle, damn you!" the Hauptmann shouted. "If he doesn't resuscitate you will die with him, you understand?" An attendant handed the Hauptmann a short whip, which he used to accentuate his last words.

Obediently Simone tried to hug the man, whose eyes opened briefly, then remained open as she breathed warmth over his face. Simone saw that he was becoming sluggishly aroused. A prisoner, he had probably not been allowed normal satisfaction with a woman for months or years. Partly in sympathy for the man, she stroked more firmly, pressing her own warmth against his skin in an effort to raise his temperature and rouse his will. Over a period of many minutes he responded, shivering tragically until the entire bed shook, much to the delight of the observers at the window.

Simone could tell that the prisoner's temperature was beginning to increase, warming his skin to an almost acceptable level. His teeth were chattering when the lust in his eyes became such that Simone could look into his face no longer. He concentrated on rubbing her pert white breasts while she simultaneously warmed his thighs with hers, slowly stroking with her smoothly curved legs.

His penis was like an icicle, jabbing up at her soft abdomen when she rubbed against it. She decided to warm this tumescent organ with her mouth blowing gently upon its sensitive underside and stroking the chilly scrotal sac with her fingers.

The Hauptmann's whip touched her asscheek bitingly "Go down on him. We haven't all day. We have other duties to attend to. Hurry "

Simone knew what the Hauptmann meant by "going down." She had been forced to do that by one of the three who captured her. But she had been passive then. Now, she was being told to actively put that icicle inside her mouth, and the thought was repulsive. Even as she was thinking these thoughts her face was being pushed down against the prisoner s erection. She opened her mouth to object and found it instantly filled with a cool throbbing cock that jerked and jumped inside. She tongued its slippery smooth underside and continued to fondle the balls. All the while she knew that her ass was widely exposed for all of the observers to study. Yet it was impossible for her to stop, she would be beaten bloody if she even paused to breathe.

Yes, she reflected, what was the difference? The war would be over according to intelligence she had gotten in the underground, in another month or two. Summer of '45 at the latest. Then she would be freed. If she survived.

The shivering man moved his hands to grope stiffly at her large globes of titflesh with their unabashedly erect nipples. The cold had done something to Simone, something lascivious and incomprehensible. She recalled having been taken in a snowbank by Erich, one of her cousins. This was something like that time in the woods. Erich, poor Erich, had been killed at Leningrad the following year.

These cold groping hands were not at all like Erich's. They were rough and calloused, and the man's thin unshaven face leered at Simone with the intentness of an animal. Simone felt herself blush as she continued doing what she had been ordered, under the prisoner's relentless gaze.

Slowly, he became highly aroused, and sat up, reaching out with both hands for Simone's hair. Frightened by the suddenness of his movements, she scrambled away. The man slid from the bed, his erect cock pointing at her. He was moving unsteadily toward her when the Hauptmann's whip snapped across the groin and the prisoner doubled over with a wince of pain.

The lash of the whip had made the prisoner flaccid once again. But his eyes still shone with a glassy lust. Again, Simone was ordered to caress the prisoner, and again he became tumescent. The whip cracked, and the man whined with heartrending frustration as the sting of the whip reduced his rearing cock to putty. When she again brought him to the brink, she realized that the Hauptmann was not going to interfere. The men behind the window were shouting in a frenzy to have the prisoner released from his frustration.

The prisoner was quickly on top of her, forcing her to the floor, his breath heavy on her face as he gasped with excitement and pummeled her body in search of her fuckhole.

His cold fingers were like insects crawling on her skin. Her body was taut with discomfort. The prisoner, grunting like a rutting animal, took his ominous cock in his hand and rammed it against her mouth. At the same time he pushed her leg back with his free hand, opening her up for all the soldiers to see. Simone felt she could have died with the embarrassment of this degradation.

She could see the leering scowls on the faces pressed against the window, and she wondered momentarily whether death might not be easier.

Then she felt the prisoner's calloused hands rough on her shoulders as he thrust his weak, skinny hips against her. He thrust violently, the more vicious because of the previous interruptions.

Her cry, when she felt the coldness of his steel-like rod rip through her dry inflamed membranes, was lost in the guttural, lusty laughter of those watching. Simone felt a sharp, piercing pain rip through her youthful body as the slender coldness thrust heavily into her incredibly tight, inflamed cunt. She felt the brutal battering of the cock thrusting into her body, her legs flailing wildly, helplessly against the onslaught.

She was never so psychologically unprepared for sex, so completely turned off by everything around her. The prisoner's eyes shone with a madness she had never seen before. She could feel her tears flow freely as the prisoner's icy cock pulled painfully out to the very edge of her hole, and then thrust forward again. Each thrust hurt her more, so that she felt dizzy with the driving repetitious ache. It felt as though the icicle would rip her apart. The shame, the anguish, was almost unbearable now, as the speed of the prisoner's fucking increased, so that her cunt felt like it was burning despite the cold.

Simone hated her tormentor. She hated him with all of the young passion she had. She wished she could consume the prisoner, fuck him to death. Consume him inside her abused young blonde body.

The thought, made her react violently. She writhed, bucking and wrenching against his steely thin frame. The lustful fish-cold flesh responded to her, and the combination of fear, shame, and hate made Simone stab her slender young pelvis down on the wretched prisoner, impaling herself while fucking him, fucking... fucking... fucking.

Simone wrapped her legs around the very wiry waist of her tormentor, squeezing down, punching her ass up at him, fucking... fucking... fucking. And the tender stretched membrane of her pussy was no longer burning with the cold pain. Her pussy was wet with her slippery-hot internal juices as she humped, slashing her hips from side to side until it seemed she would dismount her rider. She was fucking savagely, hatefully, and, in a weary manner, lustfully.

Gradually and by degrees she felt her body respond to the pummeling of the cold fucking, the everlasting, repetitive, thrust and withdrawal-thrust and withdrawal.

Simone hated it. Hated herself. She was desperate with shame, confusion, and mental anguish as her body responded to the torturing jabs. She felt her body hardening for an unwanted climax.

But the man was weakening, grunting as he pistoned in and out of her, more and more slowly. Simone, overwhelmed with the degradation of submission, began to demand the orgasm for which she had been prepared. In anger and frustration she threw the prisoner from herself and rolled him onto his back. His cock, twitching madly in the air, was red and bobbing and hard as cold steel.

Simone smeared her pussy juice over the warm vibrating shaft before centering herself above the icy rod. She did not care that she was being watched and hooted at from the window. She lowered her body slowly. The lips of her cunt spread apart as she felt them enveloping the swollen glans. Suddenly, she brought down her whole weight and his cock sunk in. She leaned over him, striving for leverage to drive the cock even deeper into her body. She balanced her cunt, moving in its own natural rhythm, as the gaping hole, warm, wet, and wild, made the squishing sound of compression. She flattened her belly muscles as she plowed with her notch up and down the expanding cock. Her cuntlips began to tighten once more in a sudden sexual spasm. Her whole body sucked up, grasping his cock at the root, burying it further and further into her convulsing hole.

The fire of her orgasm ignited at the roof of her abdomen, arching her back painfully, and she cried aloud. "I'm coming!" Her voice, raw and hoarse, repeated, "I'm coming, I'm coming."

And then the prisoner began to come. Hot, thick wads spurted out of the cockhead, exploding into her pussy like an erupting geyser. The lava of his sperm filled her cunt and gushed down, out, leaking in hot slimy waves over the straining cheeks of her ass.

Simone felt herself draining, but with her eyes blurry and her head spinning dizzily, she realized that her body was climaxing again. "Ohhh, God...," she moaned. "Again...! I'm coming again... again!" Her ass bucked and swiveled on his tumescent cock, and she rubbed her groove down hard on his pubic ridge. "I can't... stand it any more... I'm coming again."

Simone did not struggle when they came and carried her, like a sack, to her new residence. A cell. Her mind was still reeling from the jackhammer blows of that cold fuck.

When the guards threw her bruised body heavily on the cot in the cell, she lost consciousness completely, knowing that while she lived she had no choice but to suffer any ignominy, any disgrace that her Nazi captors wished to place upon her.