Chapter 3
"Ilsa,, you will fill in for Ingrid for the rest of this evening," Rolf said to her, when he walked into her dressing room.
"Yah? You cannot be serious, Rolf. How will I introduce an act and then get behind the curtain in time before it opens?"
"I do not know, my little sweet," he said to her. "But you will do it."
"What is wrong with Ingrid then? Has she fucked herself out?"
He slapped her. Sometimes, although his feelings for Ilsa were stronger than they were for any other girl, she said things which angered him.
"Some Nazi was with her, and her jaw is swollen now. The man was brutal with her."
"Ach, then I am glad you did not send him to me."
"If you do not get ready to take her place, you will have one from me, my little darling. But, if you are good, and perform well, you and I will be together at the end of the evening. How is that?"
She moved closer to him and kissed him on the lips. As she did, she slid her hand to his crotch and started to rub his cock bulge. Rolf knew that there would be time, if he wanted, for her to give him a blow job.
But he did not want that now. He pushed her away and turned to walk back to his office, one of the only places in all of the Berlin Club where he could be alone.
He even locked the door, and as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he was distressed. During the last few months, it seemed, he had aged a few years, or maybe the lines had just stated to pop up more noticeably on his forehead.
It was because of what was happening all over Germany with the Nazis.
He reached over and started to turn the lock on his safe. As he opened it and saw all the hundreds of thousands of marks piled into neat bundles, he sat back. All this was what made all the shit he had to put up with worthwhile.
And something else, too.
He reached over and pulled out the small packet. It was just a piece of paper, folded over a few times, and as he started to unfold it, he looked at the white powder before him. It took the marks to buy the powder, but it was well worth the price, for at times like this, only cocaine could make him feel good.
People always wondered why Rolf Schmidt had a long fingernail on his left hand pinkie, but only those who had ever snorted with him knew why. It was easy to scoop up the powder with his finger and inhale it.
He filled both nostrils more than once, and it was not until he felt the soothing effects of the drug working on his system, that he started to fold the packet up and slip it back into his safe.
"Goodbye, marks," he said to his money, as he closed the door.
Then, he sat back on his leather chair. He reached for his riding crop and began to pound it on the desk, once, twice, over and over.
The steady cracking sound seemed to steady his nerve.
He thought about Ingrid. She would be sleeping now, and he was happy about the fact that there were small beds in the dressing rooms. It came in good for a number of reasons. First and foremost, in his mind, of course, was for the girls to use it when the men came backstage to see them.
But they also always came in good for times like this, when a girl was so worn out and so beaten, that she needed to sleep.
Of course, it had been hard to get her to sleep at first, for even though she had been unconscious after the Nazi hit her, once he had revived her, she had been furious. She had started to talk about how much she hated the Nazis, and how she wished she could kill every one of them that she saw now.
He had just been happy Heinrich was back in the front, and that there were no other Nazis backstage, anywhere, to overhear what Ingrid was saying.
She had looked so lovely there in his arms, and he had wanted to shut her up, so he'd moved his lips to hers and kissed her.
Ingrid, like most of the other girls who had had a taste of his cock before, succumbed immediately. He had always been told, by almost every girl he was with, that his cock was larger than any other they had seen, so he had grown to believe it was.
He had been with Ingrid a few times, and as she had felt his soft kisses, he knew she was hoping to have him again. He knew it because of the way she had even slid her hand between his legs, to feel if he was hard.
He was. Most of his life was spent with an erection between his legs.
She had started to pull him out af his pants, and she had moved him between her legs. He had whispered in her ear as he'd slid his cock into her cunt and felt the velvety warmth around him.
"Sleep, Ingrid. Rest for a while. I'll tell Ilsa to go on in your place. You need your rest now, darling, so sleep."
She had been moaning as he had been sliding his cock in and out of her.
Ingrid's cunt had been responsive, too. He had felt the way she started to spasm around him, and then, he had heard her breathing at a nice, steady rate. As he had raised his head up just a little bit, and looked in her eyes, he knew that she was sleeping.
Yet, she was still responding. He had started to fuck her even harder, for he had wanted to come, and when he felt the need to have his orgasm, he didn't even slow down. With some women, he would have, just to prolong their pleasure, but since Ingrid was sleeping, there was no reason for that.
He came gently, and pulled himself out of her. He kissed her as he put his cock back into his pants, and then he left her dressing room As he started to close the door, he had taken one last look at her face. It was quite obvious that she would have a swollen jaw the next morning, and chances were good that she would need twice as much make-up to cover it on stage.
But let her sleep through the night, he thought. And damn that Nazi.
He had made sure that the second part of the show was underway before talking to Ilsa in her dressing room, and he was quite sure that they would be able to run smoothly without him, at least for the next half hour or so.
The shows went in half hour segments, with intermissions of about a half an hour to an hour between. The segments were so short, because basically, the first show started at seven in the evening, and they went on until four in the morning. Each segment was different from the other, and on different nights, the orders were changed around.
It had been Rolf's idea to stage a cabaret show like this, turning the small bar he had owned into an incredible money making business. He had just gone along with the times, he remembered, and those times were changing.
Way back, when he had first had the Berlin Bar, he had had a singer, Nana, who would do two shows a night.
She had been a lovely black-haired beauty, who was as kinky offstage as she looked onstage. She had long straight black hair, and always dressed in clinging black dresses, revealing enough cleavage, and always with a slit up the side of one leg which went almost all the way up to her hip.
He had discovered her singing in a smaller bar, and had offered her more money, and a room to stay in.
She had become quite popular, and Rolf had even had a chance to have some of his songs peformed by her, although she had never thought he'd had much talent when it came to writing songs.
He remembered the first night he had ever been with her. She had been working for him for a month, and one night, late, he had heard a noise from her room. He had gone to investigate, and when he opened the door, there she lay, in the middle of her bed, naked, with her legs spread, and her fingers between her legs.
Nana had been masturbating, and she continued, even after he had entered.
He watched her long slender fingers sliding in and out from between her cunt lips, and he had loved the way the lips looked red. He watched the way the juices started to flow down her thighs, too.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked him. "I always did wonder about you, my dear, Rolf. For one month I have lived with you in the same house, and you have never once tried to come into my room. I am glad to see that you are a man. with normal desires."
He knew what she was implying by that, and it outraged him.
He had gone over and slapped her across the face, thinking that he would shut her up. Instead, she went on, implying that perhaps he needed a member of the same sex to keep him turned on, since that kind of insanity seemed to be running rampant in Nazi Germany, and why shouldn't he be like others?
The more she spoke, the more outraged he became, and he was hitting her harder and harder, until, it hit him.
She was loving this. She seemed to be taunting him and leading him on in order that he continue to beat her.
At one point, she seemed to be reaching for something. He saw her hand grasp it, and then she had dropped it.
Rolf had known that she hadn't just dropped it accidentally though, as soon as he saw that it was a leather whip. Her grasp had been too good, and if he had been hurting her enough where she wanted to fight back, she could have held onto it and whipped him with it. No, that had not been her purpose.
She had reached for it to let him know that it was there in the room.
So he reached for it, and he started to whip her hard.
Rolf, always the businessman, took into consideration the kinds of clothing that Nana would wear when she performed. He made sure to whip her breasts and belly and her inner thighs, but no area that would be seen by the public.
She had been writhing as he had whipped her hard, and there was never any doubt in his mind, that first time, or the hundreds of times to follow, that she loved it. The wetness near her cunt at all times always confirmed it in his mind, for she would be coming without even touching himself when he whipped her.
That first night, he had whipped her until she seemed to be exhausted, and then he had rolled her over onto her stomach.
He pulled her hands behind her back and tied them with the whip, then rolled her back, so that he could see her naked cunt.
Rolf had spread her legs as he'd moved his hand to his zipper.
"Now, you'll see that this is a real man's cock, to be used only with women. You'll see how much the hot cunt of a woman can turn me on."
He had rammed himself into her with one hard thrust, and she had let out the most pleasant moan. It was a moan that he could still hear in his mind as he thought about her, for he would hear it so many more times in his life.
"Harder," she had started to say to him.
Rolf would never forget the brutal way in which he fucked her then. He even felt the way his own groin seemed to be burning each time he drove his cock in and out of her, because he was slapping her thighs so hard with his groin. He felt the way her nipples throbbed when he fingered them.
Her cunt was constantly wet, and seemed to be spasming more times than not, sometimes so tight, that he could not thrust for too long a while, or else he would come too soon.
But that first time with her, she had been so aroused, and he had been, too, that within a few more minutes, he had been coming inside of her. He had started to thrust even harder while he came.
Nana had been surprised to feel his cock stay hard even after he had come, and he pulled her long black hair and slapped her face.
"Sometimes, I never go down," he had laughed, and she had smiled.
Instead of taking it as a threat, the way he had intended it to be, she loved the idea of it, and wanted him even more.
He had fucked her ass that first night, because he wanted her to see how he could hurt her if she didn't obey him, and yet, she had loved it as he drove himself in and out of her tight, first-time fucked asshole.
When he had slid his fingers into her cunt to see if she was getting turned on by the way he was brutally fucking her, he still felt her spasming.
He had come hard in her asshole, and he had fucked her again one more time that night in the cunt, slapping her around for hours.
He was happy the next morning when he saw the way she made herself up. One never would have been able to tell that she had been beaten to a pulp the night before.
And, from that first night on, she had moved into his bedroom.
Each night, after closing up the club, they would start on their way up the stairs to the small apartment that he had over it. She was so good at doing her role. She was always able to find something to bitch about, even if it just had to do with the fact that he had put some drunk in the front, who kept making all these remarks as she sang, and she wished that he would have more sense.
Or, she still liked to harp on the idea that perhaps he liked both men and women, which could not be further from the truth.
"I saw the way you looked at that blonde boy tonight," she would say, when in reality, he would know that it was Nana who had noticed a blond boy in the audience.
But it was all part of her role as instigator, so that she could start a fight and work up his anger. In the end, of course, it would lead to her beating.
Some nights he would just tie her up and fuck her, when he was not in the mood to beat her. One night, he had her hanging over his bed, from leather straps that he'd hung from the ceiling.
As he was standing up on the bed and sliding his cock in and out of her, he had loved the way her body moved. There were moments when he just had to hold her hips and slide her back and forth over his cock, never even having to move himself.
One night, she suggested that they bring in another girl, and he had been more than willing. While he was fucking Nana, he could eat the other girl, and since he was the kind of man who liked to do both, it kept him aroused for many hours.
Then, on another night, she suggested that they bring in another man.
He had sensed that she wanted to test what she had always thought, and he had showed her that he was only interested in her. Although the man seemed like he might have been interested in doing whatever happened, Rolf had made it clear that they were both to satisfy the woman, and not each other.
He did admit to himself, every so often, that he could get turned on watching a man fucking a woman, even watching the way the man's cock was sliding in and out of her cunt, but then again, what man couldn't?
He found that it aroused him because he liked to imagine that it was his own cock moving in and out of the woman's cunt.
He and the other man whom they'd taken upstairs never touched each other, and when Rolf tied her up over the bed, it was easy for him to fuck Nana's mouth while the man was fucking her cunt at the same time. By pulling on her nipples as hard as he could, Rolf had turned her on even more.
He would never forget the first time his sister had mentioned it to him.
"You know that Nana is a Jew, do you not, Rolf?" she had asked.
"Yah, I did know that. But what difference does it make?"
"I do not think that it is good for business for you to have a Jew employed. The times are not right for it. We must face facts."
And although nothing major had happened, he had heard about how a few houses had been burned, a few windows broken with rocks, a few young Jewish boys falling victim to gangs of German boys, and so on.
But he did not think it mattered much.
He had decided, however, to hire another singer, just so Nana would not have to work every night, and so, if the public demanded, there would be a few shows a night.
Then, the Brand Club had opened across the streets, and his business had suddenly died down. At the time, the Berlin Club was still the Berlin Bar.
Rolf had gone across the street to see what his competitor had that was pulling in all of his customers.
He saw that there were burlesque kinds of shows. There were a few stupid skits, and they tried to bring in nudity as much as possible. Almost every girl in the show had .to bare her tits at some point or other, and whether the body was good or not, the men in the audience seemed to cheer each time a new set of tits was exposed.
Rolf had talked to Nana about singing without a top on, but she had refused, and the other girl had refused as well.
That was when he decided that he would put on a few shows, also, and he had run and ad in the Berlin Gazette.
Soon, he had been getting more business again. He had changed the name of his club, and he had set up a small stage, which, over the years, was to be built up even more and more, until it was quite sizeable.
He wrote a few skits himself, and the customers seemed to like them.
Nana did not like to sing between strippers, but she really did have no choice. Rolf also started to discover something. The worst parts of the show, at least from the reaction of the audience, were when Nana sang.
It was then that he had decided it was time to fire her, but he was so much in love with her sexually, that he still wanted her around. Instead of firing her, he proposed to her, and suggested that when they marry, she stop working.
She did not like that idea, said she would talk to him about it, and that night, he beat it into her, literally.
As he had her bound to the bedposts of their bed, and was thrusting his cock in and out of her with a super hard force, he was slapping her face and telling her that she would no longer be singing in the club.
She had been moaning louder than ever, and finally, as she had felt the way he started to come in her, she had agreed.
But three days before they were to be married, she came to him and told him that she could not be his wife.
"Why?" Rolf Schmidt had asked. The invitations had been mailed. The arrangements had all been made. He feared that if she did not marry him, too, he would lose her.
Her father, a rather prominent doctor, had his office robbed a few times. He had saved up enough money to take his family out of Germany, and although she had never been close to them, they had offered to take her.
She had every intention of leaving with them.
"I still do no understand why," he told her. "I love you."
"It is for your sake as well as mine. There is no one trying to stop this Nazi party from rising. They will become more and more powerful. Take my word for it, Rolf. It would not be good for you to marry me. You have this club, this business, and it is successful. Marry a Jewess, and you lose it all."
He had beat her and fucked her, harder than he had in the longest time, thinking that would be the way to make her change her mind. But no matter what he did, she was convinced that she must go.
And she had. After he untied her that time and she left his house, she never came back, and that was when he first started to hate the Nazis.
Of course, he thought, as he decided to snort some more cocaine, his hatred for them did not go too far. After all, many of them were already making good money, and each night, he would have one or two in the club.
A few higher ranking Nazis sometimes came in and brought large parties with them, so their bills for the night were substantial, and they always had cash to pay them.
He snorted some more coke, and thought about one incident, though. It had made him decide that he had to let the Nazis in anyway, no matter what.
There had been a rowdy officer as hit club one night, and the man had left, eventually. The next night, he had returned.
He had started out sober, but as the evening wore on, he seemed to be getting more drunk than he had been the night before. Eventually, Rolf had had to go over and ask the man to leave.
"And please, do not come back here," he had said to the officer, as the man barely managed to stumble away from the bar.
The next night, the blond officer had returned again, this time, with a few more Nazi soldiers to accompany him.
"I am sorry, but I cannot let you in," Rolf said.
"Why is that?" the Nazi asked him. "Why will you let others in, but not us?"
"They are allowed in," Rolf told him, pointing to the others. "But for the last two nights, you have had to be dragged out of here. You have gotten too drunk and you have disrupted the show. I do not want it to happen again."
The man had laughed, and then, he had beckoned with his finger. Rolf had moved closer, thinking that the man was going to whisper something in his ear.
The officer wrapped his arm around Rolfs neck, and then, punched him hard in the stomach with his fist, so that the man had doubled over in pain.
"You see, Herr Schmidt, I do remember last night. I do remember your warning for me not to come back here. That is why I purposely came back with friends. It is all right, if you do not want me to enter, but if that is the case, my friends and I will rip your place apart, in a matter of seconds. However, if I am allowed to enter, we will be the most cordial customers you can find."
So what could he have done? He knew that if he refused again, they would beat his face in before they even started to tear the club apart.
As the officer had left that night, he had told Rolf that from now on, the man had to let any Nazis in, for if he did not, all of them would hear about it and they would blow up his place one afternoon when he wasn't even there.
He did not want to tell them that he lived upstairs, for he was sure that would have given the officer even more reason for wanting to blow up the place.
So, from that day on, all Nazis were allowed in.
And still, he hated them, and still, he would never forget that he had lost his Nana because of them.
And still, business was just all right.
With the Brand Club across the street, showing the same kinds of acts that he would have at his club, customers would go there sometimes, and come to his place at other times. He knew the owner of the Brand Club, and there was no way that he could keep the man out of his club, and prevent him from stealing some of the acts, just as there was no way the owner of the Brand Club could keep him out.
Then, the turning point had occurred one night a few months back, and it was one of the few things that he had to thank the Nazis for.
A handsome blond soldier named Greg had come backstage during one of the breaks.
At the time, a girl named Lila had been working for him. She had been a redhaired. beauty with long slinky legs. She had danced a number wearing practically nothing, and most men would feel quite aroused watching her slink across the stage.
Greg had asked Rolf how he could meet Lila, and Rolf had decided that even though the man was a Nazi, he was still somewhat nice. So he had taken Greg to Lila's dressing room, and he had stayed there for a while, too.
He did not really just want to meet Lila. He just wanted to fuck her.
Rolf knew men well enough to be able to tell that, and for a few seconds, he decided to see what he could do. He asked Lila if she could come outside and talk with him, and he asked her if she would be willing to make it with the man.
"I could use the extra money," she had said to him, smiling.
"I thought you would say that, my sweet Lila. I could see that you and I got along so well for a reason. One moment."
And then, he stepped into the dressing room again. He closed the door so that he could talk privately with the soldier. He asked him if he would like to make love to Lila, and of course, the man was quite willing.
The price was set, and Rolf took the money. He told Lila to come to his office when she was finished.
But he had not left. He didn't really trust the Nazi that much, so he had stood outside of the door, and he had looked through the keyhole.
He saw the way the man pulled his cock out of his pants and pushed Lila down on her knees, in the most dominating way. He had pressed his cock into her mouth, and he had started to fuck her face.
Rolf had been happy at the way Lila worked. She had slid her hand down to her cunt and she had started to massage herself. He loved the way she kept herself aroused that way, so that as the Nazi kept sliding himself in and out of her mouth, hard, she was able to bear with him.
At one other point, the man had pulled his cock out of her mouth and had started to slap her across the face with it. Then, he had started to come all over her face, but he had not lost his erection.
He had pushed her onto her bed, and he had slid his cock right between her legs.
Rolf had watched it all. He had seen the thick red bush that lovely Lila had between her legs, and he had seen her large breasts heaving up and down as the man kept thrusting it in and out of her with a hard slapping force.
It had not taken that long for the man to come, either.
Once he had come, he had just adjusted himself, and then he had left. By that time, Rolf was in his office.
He had even been looking at the watch on his wrist, counting the seconds, and sure enough, within two minutes after the man had left, there was Lila, standing in his office with her hand held right out.
"And where is my money?" she asked him, and he handed her ten marks.
"That is all you get. I get ten, and you get ten."
"Fair enough. It is ten marks more than I had yesterday, and perhaps there will be others like him. I could use the extra money."
He had started to think about what she said then, and he had smiled.
Lila was one of the few girls who ever got to share cocaine with him, because he knew that he had a whole business to work out with her. He had asked her, that night, to shut his office door, and then, they had snorted.
When she was sufficiently high, he started to ask her if she would be willing to do things like this more often.
"Yah, of course. I thought I made that clear to you already, Rolf. I told you that I wanted more money. This is as easy a way as anything else."
"Good. Then it is set. Tomorrow night, you will start."
"How will you let them know?"
"It is easy for me to tell one person in the club, and then, the rumor will be spread. Those brave enough to come backstage and check to see if the rumor is true, will discover that for a price, you are theirs. For fifteen minutes each."
"Brilliant. That way, I can take on more than one."
"But each one will come once, only, not twice, the way you let this man come."
She had started to smile with a sly look on her face. She didn't even have to say anything, but she knew that he had been watching.
And over the weeks, his club had started to attract more and more people. Each time he would hire new girls, he had to make sure that they were willing to take on a few customers between breaks.
Most of them were. After all, being in his club on stage was only a few steps above being a whore, in the sense that the girls all paraded around with practically nothing on, to try and make some money.
It was so much easier to do this, and make even more money.
"You know," Lila said to him one night, "I understand now why these men love to come backstage to fuck us."
"Yah?" he had asked her. "Then explain it to me, after you get through pushing all of that cocaine into your nose."
"There is an aura to someone on stage. An aura to the actress, let me say. The men see you on stage, and they think that you are someone special. The make-up, the lights, they all help, too."
"In some cases, they look better on stage. Not you, my dear."
"You do not have to tell me, Rolf. I know that I am beautiful, and I will make it work for me for as long as possible. But it is that aura which attracts the men in the first place, and makes them want to come back for more."
"Or come back for a starter. You do taunt them on stage as you flaunt yourself around. You do leave them wanting more." "It's a business," she told him. And then, one night, she had asked him to make love to her. He had only done so once, up until then, but he had loved the way her body looked.
So, at first, he had started to eat her, and when he had felt the way she was coming in his mouth, he had started to suck out her juices.
Soon, he had entered her, and he was thrusting in and out of her hard. She seemed to love it more the harder he thrust, and he was happy about that.
Soon, she had become his steady girl, the only one he would be with.
"I feel that I deserve it," she told him. "I was the first to start this, and now, you have a successful club."
And it was true. As soon as word had gotten around as to what a customer could buy backstage, the place had started to fill up almost every night. Somehow, too, Rolf had managed to keep this a secret from the owner of the Brand Club, who just could not understand how, almost overnight, he had no customers.
And then, one day, a Nazi soldier had beat Lila's face in.
He had wanted to fuck her in the ass, and she had not wanted it. She had started to scream and he had slapped her once, so hard, that she bit her own tongue, and it was hard for her to try and scream then.
She bit her lower lip as she struggled for the door, but he managed to get himself into her, fucking her brutally.
He had been outside of the dressing room, trying to get in, but the soldier had locked the door, and was pushing the weight of her body against it, just in case anyone could get the key and open the lock.
By the time Rolf had been able to get in, the soldier had come in her asshole and was wiping her shit off on her robe.
He pushed his pock back into his pants, got up, and left.
Rolf helped, her through her recovery, and she unable to do the show for a few weeks, because her face had been badly bruised.
Then, when she recovered, she had a serious talk with him.
"That is all, Rolf. I am finished. My career is over."
"What? Why are you saying this? I don't think that your talent has disappeared."
"My talent for deceiving has. I should have been able to keep that man from getting me in the ass. He almost killed me. I have saved a lot of money from all of the men I have been with."
"Then stop working for a while."
"For good. At least here. At least in Germany. I could not risk being with other customers. They could turn out to be like him."
"They will not all be like that one," he said to her.
"Who are you trying to fool? One Nazi pig is the same as another. And there is no denying that in the last few months, they have grown in number. They will continue to grow. All I wish to do is get out of Germany before their cancer spreads."
And no matter how much he had tried to talk her out of it, she had made up her mind, and a few days later, she left him at the train station.
He had heard from her. She was now living in America, where they seemed to have no idea of what was happening where he was.
Rolf heard a knock on his door then, and he walked over and opened it. Ilsa was standinng there, smiling.
"The second part of the show has ended. There will be men lining up at the stage door. I think you should come and get ready to greet them."
"Yah, I will be there," he said to her. "Give me a minute."
"Are you all right, Rolf? You look worn. Your eyes look red."
"I am all right. Please, Ilsa, leave me. Leave me. I will be there."
He closed the office door, took a deep breath, then opened it again and stepped out into the world of backstage show business.
He passed Ingrid's dressing room and looked inside. She was still sleeping, and he hoped she would sleep the night. He hoped, too, that she, unlike Lila, would want to continue working, even after her first beating.
But what Lila had told him, and what Ingrid had said, also, was true. There didn't seem to be any stop to the rise of the Nazi Party, and as he opened the door and looked out at all the men lined up, his thoughts were confirmed.
About half of the men on line wore the Nazi arm band.