Chapter 4
Ilsa Baron walked away from Rolf, and she seemed upset.
Sometimes, she felt as if he was the only man she would ever love. At all times, however, she sensed that his feelings for her were not mutual. When he wanted her to do things for him, he would never tell her that he loved her. Instead, he would tell her that he would fuck her later.
She was hoping for it later that night. After all, filling in for Ingrid was hard work, since she had many things to do on stage herself.
She could remember that time when she had tried to convince Rolf to hire understudies, in case anything happened to any of the girls.
"When it is their time of month, for instance," she had said to him. "Some of them cannot perform when it is their time of month."
"They will have to," he said. "Maybe they will not be able to bare their bloody pussies, but they can still perform on stage."
He had been fucking her at that time. The only time she could ever criticize him without him getting angry and slapping her across the face was when she was letting him fuck her, and sometimes, even that didn't work.
She walked behind him then and looked out into the alley, where the men were lining up. He heard her gasp and turned to her.
"Shut up, Ilsa. I know what you're thinking. Just keep quiet."
"I cannot see anyone now," she said to him. "I must rest. Filling in for Ingrid and doing my own job as well wears me out more than doing just one."
"All right. I understand," he said to her. "You can go and rest."
Did he really understand? Ilsa could not help but think about, as she walked toward her small dressing room. It was true, she was tired, and needed to lie down, even if the rest was only for half an hour.
But when she had taken a look outside and had seen all those Nazi soldiers lined up, she had known she didn't want to service any men. Perhaps, if Rolf had filtered through them for her, and picked out a man who did not wear a Nazi swastika, she would allow him into her room and service him.
Ilsa hated the Nazis, however, and after seeing what that bastard had done to Ingrid, for she had stepped in and taken a look as Ingrid slept, she did not want to run the risk of the same thing happening to her.
She closed her dressing room door, and locked it, just in case one of those stupid bastards should wander into the wrong room. She walked toward the small make-up table, sat down, and opened the bottom drawer.
Ilsa opened the bottle of schnapps as fast as she could. She took a long drink, then another, closed the bottle, and moved it back to its hiding place. Then, she opened the top make-up drawer and reached for her breath spray.
If Rolf ever knew that she was drinking during intermissions, he might fire her, she knew. That was one of the most strict rules. He had nothing against a person snorting cocaine, for that, he always claimed, did not alter the senses as much as alcohol did. A person could function even better on cocaine, Rolf had told her, many times, whereas most people do not even know what they do when they are drunk.
But she was not drunk now. She would not drink to get drunk.
The lovely blonde just needed something to steady her nerves, which had been shattered quite a bit by the number of Nazi swastikas on the arms of the waiting men.
She hadn't noticed so many in the audience, as she had been up there on the stage, introducing the acts. It was starting to lead her to believe, in fact, that many of the men waiting outside had just decided to line up and come to see the girls, since more and more of them were hearing about it.
They probably decided to come and fuck a girl, like a whore, and not really use this backstage service as an extra benefit that came to all people inside of the club.
It disturbed her. It was almost as if they were just whores to these men, and not performers who were doing their job on stage, and just doing a little bit extra during the intermissions.
She had to have another drink. The thought of it left her trembling.
She knew why, too, although, it was something she could never let anyone know. It was just too horrible to talk about.
It had happened, though, years back, when she had been a child. There had been even fewer Nazis around then, and no one wore the swastika at all. But the Nazi beliefs had been instilled in many people.
Her father, a diplomat in the German government, had not been a Nazi.
In fact, he had spoken out against the Nazis. At the time, young Ilsa had only been ten, and being so young, her concern for politics was minimal. She really had no idea about what her father did for a living. All she knew was that she lived in a lovely large home, and had servants, and maids, and butlers, to wait on her hand and foot.
She had a lovely black-haired mother, also.
The night it had happened, Ilsa could remember sensing tension in the house.
At dinner, her parents had been whispering to each other, almost as if they didn't want her to hear. That was not at all normal.
They had even sent her upstairs early in the evening.
She had been in her room reading when she had heard the door slam open. Then, there had been the sound of her mother's screaming, and the curious child had run out of her room and down the stairs.
She had hidden herself behind the curtains that were up against one wall near the marble staircase, so she could look into the living room.
Her mother was being held by a man in a soldier's uniform, and another man who stood in front of her was slapping her across the face. She stuck her head out a little bit more and saw the way two more soldiers stood over her father, who was on his knees, with blood dripping from his lips.
All of the servants were over to one side of the room, too, huddled in a corner, being watched by a fifth soldier holding a rifle.
"Well, Herr Barr," the man said to her father.
Ilsa had since changed her name to Baron, so that they would never be able to find her, if they were looking for her.
"Well, Herr Barr," the man repeated, "are you willing to endorse the Nazi party, or will you fight against us?"
"I stand against everything that they stand for, Herr Schlimmer, so how could you expect me to endorse them?"
The soldier pulled his hand back and slapped her father hard across the face.
Her mother screamed, as did her father, but it was her father whose blood was dripping even more. Ilsa wanted to cry, but knew not to, biting her lower lip to hold back the tears. She was smart enough to know that they would pull her into the room if they spotted her.
"There are ways to convince a man of things he may be against," the soldier said.
"You will never be able to make me change my mind."
The soldier then turned to the two men holding her mother.
"Prepare the woman. We will see how much love he has for her."
Her mother struggled and screamed as the two men began to strip her of all of her clothing, fast. They ripped at what she was wearing, so that tattered pieces of her dress and underwear soon lay on the floor.
Her mother tried in vain to cover her nakedness, but the one man still kept holding her hands, or so it seemed. It was not until a few seconds later, when the man moved away, that Ilsa saw the way her wrists had been bound.
In her fierce struggle to cover her bared, brown nipples and black pubic patch, she had caused the leather to rip into her skin, and blood trickled down over the leather and her hands. She seemed totally unaware of what she had done to herself.
"If a man loves his wife, he will sometimes do things to save her."
"Do not," she managed to whisper. "Kurt, you must stick to what you believe in. Do not change on my behalf. I agree with you."
"Keep her quiet," the head soldier, Herr Schlimmer, had said as he turned to one of the men still holding her.
That was when young Ilsa noticed the thick bulge in the man's pants.
He started to open his pants, and as he reached inside and pulled out his hard piece of flesh, her mother had gasped.
Ilsa had gasped, too, although, her mother's gasp was the one that the men heard.
Ilsa had seen her father naked, once, and his cock had been limp. It was nothing in comparison to the size and shape of this man's. His cock must have been at least a foot long, she had thought then, but later in life, when she had encountered many of them herself, she had known better.
It was still bigger than the average cock on your typical man.
The soldier had turned right to her mother, and he had thrust his cock right between her lips, with one hard thrust.
As Ilsa had seen the thing disappear in her mother's mouth, so that the man's pants were pressed up against the woman's face, she had heard her mother gagging. She couldn't understand how the woman could hold that entire long thing in her mouth.
The soldier then started to thrust in and out of the woman's mouth, as hard as he possibly could. She choked each time he thrust all the way in.
In the meanwhile, her father had tried to get up. He seemed to be going crazy and acting frenetically as he tried to push the thrusting soldier away, but Herr Schlimmer hit him on the back of the neck with his gun butt.
It was not a hard enough blow to knock the man out, since the soldiers did want him to see what was happening, but it did knock him to the floor, and then, Herr Schlimmer cuffed the man, and lifted his head up by pulling on his hair.
"Watch your wife, and see how she does it. She may never have the chance to do it to you again, Herr Barr. Keep that in mind."
Ilsa did not know how her father could have seen anything, for there were many tears in his eyes, and many more rolling down his cheeks.
Meanwhile, the other soldier who was still holding her mother, who had forced her mother, in fact, to bend over so she could take in the cock, was starting to run his hands up and down her body.
He was plucking at her nipples hard, and Ilsa could see the way he was twisting them, and sometimes pulling so fiercely, that it seemed like he was going to pull them right off. She could see her mother's cone-shaped breasts being stretched, and from the way the black-haired woman continued to squirm, it was obvious to the girl that she was trying to pull away.
But she could not, and soon, the soldier started to moan.
He pulled his hard, golden looking shaft right out of her mouth, just in time to start rubbing his hand up and down the shaft.
Ilsa saw a man coming for the first time then, and she had thought it was hideous, just because of the way he did it, and because of the way her mother reacted.
He was shooting the cream all over the woman's face, slapping her with the hard cock at the same time. By the time he had finished rubbing and shooting and slapping, there seemed to be white cream all over her face.
She was in tears by that time, and she seemed to be trying to shake her head and get the come to drip off. But the other man had been holding her head by that time, pulling her black hair hard, so that if she continued to move, she would just bring pain upon her own self. She did stop struggling after a time.
There was a moment's silence after the man had finished coming.
"Well, Herr Barr, have I presented a convincing enough argument to let you know that we Nazis mean business, or not?"
"You have prevented a convincing enough argument to let me know that you are all pigs, and that everything that I believe in remains the same. Any man who would do this to another man's wife is a pig."
"Ach, obviously you have always been faithful to your wife. But there is much indiscretion among all members of the German party."
He looked at the other soldier now, who was standing behind Ilsa's mother. He nodded his head, as if to let the man know he could do what he wanted.
The man had been rubbing himself against her mother's naked buttocks from behind. As he pulled away for a second, Ilsa was able to see that there was an even greater bulge in his pants.
It was so enormous, that she was not at all suprised at how large the man's cock was when he finally pulled it out of his pants. It had to be at least twice as thick as the cock on the first man, although it was not much longer. Still, the cock on the first man had been extraordinary in length.
The man started to spit into his hand, and then, he rubbed the spittle all over his thick shaft. As soon as he had done it enough, so that the shaft looked as if it was gleaming, he rammed his cock right into her mother's cunt from behind. She hadn't even been able to see what he was doing, and she hadn't been able to prepare herself, for the soldier who had fucked her face had been holding her head.
Therefore, the cock entry seemed to come as a complete suprise to her, and from her scream, it was most obviously a painful one at that.
The man started to thrust in and out of her mother as hard as he possibly could, and Ilsa remembered wanting to kill him.
"Please Kurt," her mother had been moaning, "do not change your mind. They are all so hateful. I do not care about the pain I feel."
And she had screamed right after saying that.
The main soldier, Herr Schlimmer, had pointed to the other soldier who had been helping him watch her father. He told that soldier he could use her, and that man walked in front of her.
He pulled himself out of his pants. His cock was much smaller than the cocks on the other two men, and in years to come, Ilsa would always remember it as being an average sized cock, as opposed to the two enormous cocks on the other men.
He had moved right in front of her face, and he had started to slap her across the face, hard. Soon, Ilsa could see blood dripping from her mother's nose, and it surprised her that this smaller organ could be just as menacing, if not more, than the larger organs on the other men.
"Well, Herr Barr, are we getting to you?" Herr Schlimmer asked. "You know that you are one of the few who still stand in our way. You are one of the few who still has the balls to talk out against us."
Her father just shook his head that time, as if he believed it was not even worth it to waste any energy on these men.
Then, the soldier in front of her mother moved his cock into her mouth. He held her by her ears, and he was slamming himself in and out of her mouth almost the same way that thee other man was moving in and out of her cunt.
But even that did not remain the same. That soldier soon pulled himself back, and although Ilsa didn't really understand what was happening at the time, she did see the man enter her mother again.
Her mother screamed around the other man's cock, and that man pulled out of her mouth and preceded to administer a series of hard slaps.
"That bitch bit into me," he was saying, and Ilsa did see that the man's cock was no longer hard and rigid. It hung limp between his legs, and seemed to be smaller than it had been before.
The other man, meanwhile, was thrusting faster and faster, and Ilsa soon saw a redness all over his shaft. She knew it was blood.
The man had entered her mother's asshole, after getting his cock all wet from her cunt juices, and he was brutally fucking her then.
Her knees seemed to weaken, and the man moved his hand under her belly. He started to rub her a bit between the legs, hard, for she seemed to be gagging more than she had been with the large cock in her mouth.
Soon, she had vomited on the floor, but the soldier kept fucking her.
As he pulled out of her asshole, she could see a mixture of brown and red on the man's cock. He started to rub himself hard, and the white cream began to spurt out all over her mother's behind.
Then, after he had finished coming, he moved in front of her and slammed himself into her mouth. He started to scream.
"Suck off your own shit and blood, you bitch," he was saying, and all of the soldiers started to laugh when he did that.
By that time, Herr Schlimmer had pulled his own cock out of his pants, and he was jerking on it furiously. She was a little bit happy to see that his cock was smaller than all of the others she had seen.
In fact, because he was such a tall, stocky man, his cock seemed like it was really tiny on a body with his frame.
Years later, when Ilsa was to see how much cock size seemed to mean to certain men, she would think about Herr Schlimmer, wherever the hell he might be, and pray that he was quite upset about the size of his cock, and that it caused him many problems. It was one way of thinking the man was being paid back for what he had done.
He had started to come, the white cream shooting out all over the floor, and some of it even landing on her father's hair.
All of them had laughed about that, too, and one of them had said something to Herr Schlimmer about using her father's mouth to come in. He had thought that would be a fitting punishment for that bastard, but he had already come, and didn't do it.
Her mother had been thrown to the floor after she had finished cleaning off the soldier's cock in her mouth, and she lay there in a huddled heap.
"Well, now, Herr Barr, we come to the final test. A man's love for his wife."
The soldier who had just fucked her cunt, ass, then her mouth, had pulled his pistol out of his shoulder holster. He was pointing it down at her mother, whose head was still near the floor. She had not looked up and could not see what they were doing.
"Does a man love his wife enough to change his politics?" Herr Schlimmer asked.
"I cannot. Katrina, forgive me, but I cannot," he said.
"I forgive you, Kurt," she said to him. "I want you to know that."
She looked up at him, and just as she did, she saw the soldier pointing the pistol at her head. She opened her mouth to scream at the same moment that he pulled the trigger.
Ilsa would never forget the last scream from her mother. Nor would she forget the way her mother's whole head just seemed to explode, for there was blood everywhere and her frame slumped down to the floor.
The blood was soon forming a pool around her naked flesh.
Then, the soldier pointed the gun at her father, who looked at it proudly.
"I would rather die than live in a world that you think you might run. I hope enough people realize that they must fight against your decadent, depraved ways. If the Nazis rule the earth, it is the end of mankind."
"A fitting speech," Herr Schlimmer said. "It is too bad that you will not leave the world with applause following it."
Then, the soldier pulled the trigger. Her father had been shot in the chest first, on the left side of his body. He was still alive as Herr Schlimmer stood over him. The next bullet was shot into his one leg, then the other leg.
It seemed to take them forever,, as he squirmed on the floor in pain. They purposely wanted him to die this slow death, and Ilsa thought that was one of the most horrid things they could be doing. They were pigs for doing it.
A fourth bullet was fired into his arm, and a fifth into the other arm. Finally, as he was gasping what might have been his last pained breath anyway, the soldier shot a last bullet into his head.
He was dead, and lay there in an even larger pool of blood than the one which was still surrounding her mother. He had more gunshot wounds in his body.
Herr Schlimmer turned to the servants then. He started to tell them that they were never to talk of this. If they did, they would be tracked down and shot. Instead, they were all to be placed in the homes of upcoming Nazi officials.
"Where is the little girl?" he asked. "I know that they have a little girl."
"She had been sent to her aunt's house months back," Lily, one of the upstairs maids said, and all the others nodded.
Obviously, Ilsa thought, her parents had asked the servants to lie, and they were doing so, in order to protect her.
"Go through the house and see what you will find," Herr Schlimmer said. "You servants can spend the night here, but tomorrow, you will all be placed."
The servants were guarded as the soldiers ran up and down the stairs, taking expensive vases and paintings. They went into the den and she could hear the way they were trying to force the safe open. She knew because one of them came out and told Herr Schlimmer that he was having trouble, but the man said they would deal with it the next day, even if they had to blow open the thing.
Ilsa had remained hidden behind the curtains for hours, so it seemed, and each time she heard footsteps near her, she would inhale and hold her breath, and pray that the curtains she was shielded behind were not moving.
Eventually, the Nazis left, and when she walked into the living room and looked at the two bodies, she broke down.
She let out a small scream as she felt a hand on her shoulders.
"Good, I am glad that you had the sense to hide yourself," Lily was saying to her. "It would have meant death for all of us, if they knew we had lied to them. Now, quickly, you must pack and you must flee."