Chapter 5
A few weeks later, when the Germans had relaxed their vigilance and spent most evenings drinking themselves into stupors, led by Carmalle, the girls tried to escape.
But they were apprehended by a German patrol boat as they tried to cross the Garonne River in a fishing boat. They were taken aboard and the small boat was riddled with splintering machine gun fire and sunk.
In tears and fear, they were returned to the village, paraded to the inn and turned over to their custodians.
White-faced, Deiter Schmidt tore off Yvette's clothes and spanked and slapped and totally humiliated.
"Have your way," he told the three men from the boat who had brought them back to captivity.
Without even the dignity of privacy, the three young girls were stripped naked in the harsh light of the inn. The three Nazis from the boat didn't even bother undressing, but with bottles of cognac in hand, unbuttoned their pants, flopped their pricks into the open and the girls were forced to kneel and suck them hard.
With arms wrapped around her head, weeping in despair, Yvette knelt in an animal position, her white, smooth, rounded bottom up in the air, waiting for the beast to plunder her while others watched and laughed.
Mercifully, they had made Carmalle drunk until she had no physical control and she staggered and fell and floundered around on the floor. But Marie and Faubine were on their backs, a German between their legs, fucking them like mad animals.
Once, Yvette cried out to Schmidt who was the only German who had her since the village was captured without a shot or a warning. But he spurned her with thin, tight lips and kicked her in the stomach until she wretched, out of breath, unable to even throw up.
Then the German off the boat was kneeling behind her, running his greedy hands over the round, white moons of her butt. She whimpered softly as he traced a finger through the shallow canyon between the smooth hillocks and dabbled it against the brownish dimple of her anus.
"Her asshole okay, Lieutenant?" he said in guttural delight.
Yvette sobbed in a shuddering breath at the horror of that. Even Schmidt had not violated her there. He had always been content to merely fuck her dizzy and make her suck his explosive cock.
She winced at the stab of pain as the finger was pressed against her anus. She reeled forward, but an arm under her held her helpless, in position for debauching. She stifled a cry of agony as the finger was pushed relentlessly, brutally into her rectum and squirmed around.
"Pleeeeeeaaaassssse, Deiter!" she cried, never before having said his first name.
But he merely put a foot on her neck and held her to the floor as the finger probed all the way to the fist up her ass. With the finger still feeling like a bar of hot steel in her butt, the hand under her fumbled to open her pussy. Fingers aimed the head of the man's cock and he speared it deep into her cunt.
His was an enormous prick and Yvette felt the thin partition between her cunt and rectum was being severed. She squalled for mercy, even as he began fucking away at her cringing pussy.
The walls of her cunt quaked uncontrollably around the lancing German cock. And just as the pain was ebbing in her ass, he uncorked her cunt, pulled out his finger and set the head of his ravaging monster against the sphincter of her rectum.
"Aaaaaaawwwwwgggggg!" she blurted in a wavering gurgle, feeling the wet heat of the immense knob on the end of his prick. Her anus, still stretched, had no chance to collapse before he hunched violently and his cunt-moist cock banged some six or seven inches into her tortured bowels.
With a satisfied growl, the man from the patrol boat commenced cornholing her in long, slop-slop strokes. There was a deep retching in her belly as she was forced to take the intensely deep penetration, feeling she was being ravaged all the way to her belly button.
Defensively, she reached back to her bottom and tried to close her fingers around the prick pistoning into her asshole. But her depraved attacker merely laughed and gripped her hand, forcing her to hold his swaying balls as he continued hammering his cock into her guts.
She prayed he would cum quickly, get his obscene prick out of her butt hole, but she then wondered what he would do to her or force her to do if his lewd pleasure was short-lived. She gagged mentally, thinking he might force her to go down on him and suck his prick-after he had had it in her bowels.
Unbelievably, she could feel the taut flesh of her asshole fluctuating around his plunging organ. When he shoved his cock into her, the flesh was crammed inside, then let out as he extracted, just to slam back up into her again.
And she could feel, deep in her bowels, the great knob of his cock, the thick flange behind it. "Ah-ah-ah-ahhhhhh," Yvette gurgled, smelling the aroma of sex all around, the fragrance of cocks wedded to cunts and her own, the pugency of prick and her asshole.
She moaned and her body quivered as the hand under her found her wet, gaping pussy and the man riding her behind began finger-fucking her.
Lust grew in her and her cunt strained delectably around the squirreling finger. She howled something unintelligible and the boot was removed from her neck. Her bowels were responding to the pummeling prick and a torrid heat began washing through to lick into her breasts, bringing the dainty nipples to rosebud points.
Oh, Jesus, she thought, he's going to make me. Even his prick going in and out of my butt is going to make m e go off and he's making m e like i t How can a girl like being flicked up the asshole?
Trembling, she braced her elbows on the rough floor and her head came up. Slowly, her vision cleared and she saw little Marie and Faubine being traded, the two men who had taken them on had them by the ears and were forcing them to fuck off their pricks a second time in their slobbering, mewling mouths.
And there was Carmalle, gorgeous, voluptuous tits swaying, staggering all over the room, stumbling and falling and catching herself in lewd postures, her snatch-gash gaping, the inner pink exposed.
Then her attention focused back on her own situation, feeling the tell-tale expansion along the thick, plunging shaft of the long cock. He's near, she thought hazily. Unbidden, she began lunging her naked body back on his skewering prick and the muscles of her asshole contracted around that gigantic cock.
"Aaaaahhh-ah-ah-ah-ahiiiiiieeeeee! she screeched as he banged home, burying his cock in her and turning loose a scalding torrent of jizz deep in her quivering guts.
Her snatch exploded simultaneously on the gouging finger and she was a shivering mass of tumultuous orgasm. She gritted her teeth, bit her lower lip to keep from screaming with ecstasy and letting them know she had never been so delectably fucked in her life.
As her orgasm faded, her attention was drawn in casual curiosity to the sound of pounding at the bar. Some of the soldiers had brought in wooden chairs with arms and were driving huge spikes an inch thick and some six inches long up through the seats.
"Aaaaaahhhhhh," she purred softly, bending her head back to the floor as the man, finishing up in her, gave her half a dozen more cock-lunges to partly reawaken her passions and she felt her pussy and asshole quake pleasurably on his cock and his finger before he yanked them out of her, kicked her roughly in the bare ass.
There were four chairs with the long, thick spikes up through the bottoms. In a short time, the three young girls learned what they were for.
One after the other, Yvette, Marie and Faubine were lifted and carefully impaled on them-in their Tectums. While they screamed in tearful terror, their legs were lashed to the front legs and their arms were tied securely to the arms.
"You will learn," Lt. Schmidt said grimly, slapping them in turn. "You will spend the rest of the night here-your assholes fucking naked steel. Perhaps it will teach you that your German masters can be cruel as well as gentle with you."
He turned then in white-faced fury on the drunken Carmalle who was groveling on the floor, her nakedness exposed to the leering eyes of their captors.
They will kill Carmalle, Yvette thought, fearing to move on the iron spindle in her bowels.
But she was mistaken. Carmalle was lashed down on her back atop the bar. As her head was held up and more cognac was poured down her throat, two young German soldiers staggered into the inn with empty cognac bottles in their hands and a sack over one of their shoulders.
"We would have stayed longer, but ran out of wine and cognac," they giggled, bleary eyes surveying the grotesque scene. "The fishing is quite good in the Garoone River," one said dully.
As they stumbled toward the bar, weaving out of the way of the departing men from the patrol boat, Lt.
Schmidt shoved them angrily. The sack tumbled to the floor and several fish, flopping and wriggling escaped.
"Get your damned stupid fish out of here," he snarled, kicking at the healthy, scaly fish.
Someone spoke to him softly, cautiously. He grinned as the German officer composed himself, reflected and nodded abruptly. "Yessss," he hissed, "for the French slut. You have my permission."
Carmalle sobered slightly as a squirming fish about a foot long was dangled before her face. She writhed against her bonds while several German soldiers huddled around her naked body on the bar.
Almost intuitively she knew what to expect. She gasped with loathing-having never liked fish, the livelihood of her village-when the slimy creature was allowed to flop coldly against her opulent titties, over her heaving belly, between her splayed thighs.
"Ooooooohhhhhh, my God, noooooooo!" she squalled, her insides as cold as a tomb. She squirmed violently and was further constrained by half a dozen hands.
"Hold her firmly," the soldier who had spoken to Schmidt said, holding the fish by the tail and just back of the head. "Get her open."
Instantly, two hands reached between her legs, pursed the tendrils of thick, black hair out of the way, seized the thick outer lips of her vulva and spread them apart.
Carmalle humped her back helplessly, feeling the cold snout of the fish swabbed into her cuntal through. She cursed and spat into their gawking, leering faces. As the nose of the fish was pressed against her cringing entry, she prayed to die-at least to faint.
But her senses were too much alive, in spite of the liquor that had been forced into her.
"Aaaaggggghhhhhh!" she howled like a mad woman, feeling the fish flop about between her tensed thighs, feeling the head with its glassy, bulging eyes pushed into her with agonizing slowness.
All her senses recoiled in loathing and her nerves were too keenly alive. Her cuntal muscles contracted so violently, there was an intense aching pain deep in her bowels. She banged her head back on the bar, trying to lose consciousness.
The the head of the fish was inside her, captured, held only by the tail part of its body. Her screams echoed pitifully through the main room of the inn as the drunken German soldiers laughed with a fiendish glee.
"Oooohhh, my God," Caramalle squalled, helpless to retard or prevent the slow passing of the fish into her clutching cunt. And it was going in her so slowly, yet relentlessly. She could feel the trembling in its body as the nose was pushed pass the rubbery obstacle of her cervix.
She just knew insanity would seize her any second and she would be a mad creature all the rest of her life. The only movement she could get from her body was an undulation of her hips as if in coital cooperation.
It seemed each time she squirmed against the insertion of the fish, another inch of more of it slid into her. She yelled in terror, feeling the forward fins and the dorsal fin.
And she could smell it, a swampy odor as it was warmed by the heat of her convulsing pussy. How could she not faint? In spite of her dread of what they were doing to her, her cuntal muscles were assuming a rhythmic cluthching as if drawing inside her.
"Eeeeiiii-aaahhhhhhgggggg!" she screeched as the fish squirmed inside her and was given a mighty thrust that sent its nose far toward her womb.
"The French slut fucks fish!" a drunken German howled with carnal humor. "Look at her, fucking a fish!"
"Ooooohhhh, Jesus fucking-Christ!" Carmalle screeched as the fish flopped frantically for excape from her spasming snatch. She lifted her flushed face as high as she could, stared down the canyon between her lolling boobies and saw the swishing tail-all that remained visible between her straining thighs.
Someone touched the tender skin of her belly with the coal of a cigarette and Carmalle tossed and bounded, sobbing in a new agony. Her movement set the fish to fighting inside her pussy as if it were snared in a net.
She had no words to describe the sensations provoked by the scaly little monster. She had never experienced such maddening, unbearable convulsions before. Myriad feelings cascaded through her belly and her coiling snatch.
She was burned with another cigarette, then smelled a pungent aroma. A new fright enveloped her tormented mind. They were singing and burning away her forest of pubic hair!
The more she contorted her body, the more the fish crashed around in her pussy. Its thrashing was beginning to evoke sexual feelings that tingled like sharp needles all through her taut loins.
Cognac was dribbled into her gaping mouth and she swallowed, choking. Was it possible? "EeeeeeIiiiaaahhhhhh!" she squealed, unable to keep her body still as the fish flapped wildly. Was the filthy, beastly thing going to make her orgasm?
Carmalle's eyes glazed and stared blindly at the ceiling. Her guts were on fire and her snatch walls were milking around the hideous thing inside her. A shrill, quavering scream was like a siren as silent boom-booms began like rolling drums in her gripping, writhing cunt.
And she was cumming hard and tempestuously as the trapped fish fought with all its might in her flowing twat. And it wasn't like a cock giving her pleasure. The harder it flopped, the harder she climaxed. The harder she climaxed, the more it flopped.
There was no release in this constant orgasming. It was a torturous sexual provocation. But it wouldn't stop. Her cunt erupted and pinched all around the floundering fish that was, too, fighting for its life in her innards.
Oh, God, a prick fucking her was wonderful. But this was a sexual agony that was teetered on the brink of being intolerable.
And Carmalle, the beautiful young French woman got no relief until the fish died. Still, she was in insane torment because her gloating assailants left it imbedded in her body, the tail hanging limp from the slack outer lips of her pussy.