Chapter 5
The soldiers had taken a note of all the servants in the house, so none of them could leave with her, for they surely would have been tracked down.
And, Ilsa had been fortunate that the soldiers had not blown the safe open that night, and preferred to wait until the next day, because she knew the combination and was able to take out all of the money.
She took a few hundred marks, and gave the rest to the servants, telling them to divide it up amongst themselves.
Then, she took off for her aunt's house in Stutgart.
She had to wait all night for the train, and did not feel safe for a moment until she was traveling on it.
Even then, she sat near the window, huddled under a blanket, which she kept pulled up to her nose. It was not so much to keep her warm, as it was to keep her hidden, for she feared everyone whom she saw.
She could not sleep during the ride either, because each time she would close her eyes, she would have horrid visions of her mother being forced to take in the Nazi soldiers, and even more horrid visions of the blood and the head blowing up.
Once, she did try to sleep, and was awaken by a young woman sitting next to her, who told her she had been screaming out in her sleep. After that, Ilsa did as much as she could to keep herself up, constantly pinching herself.
Her aunt was her mother's sister, Ava Baron, and it was her last name that Ilsa took on a few years later.
The woman, who was married, but childless, was quite happy to see the girl.
Her husband didn't seem to be as happy. He was a younger man, and Ilsa was never really sure of why her aunt had married him, except, perhaps, because she wanted a younger man around, and had known, at an early age in life, that she would never be able to have children.
Sometimes, Ilsa would notice, her aunt seemed to mother the younger man she had married, but if that was what the woman wanted, that was all right.
Ava had been quite upset about what had happened to her sister, but once, she had said something to Ilsa which bothered the girl.
"I always told her not to marry a man who was involved in politics. Politics is what will ruin the world in the end, my child. You take my word for it."
At night, Ilsa would hear her aunt moaning in her bedroom, and she was sure that the younger man was fucking her.
Then, one night, a neighbor died. Ava went over to take care of the new widower and his children, making them dinner, and sitting with them for a few hours. Ilsa was left all alone with her uncle.
His name was Hans, and he was a handsome young man, who seemed to be quite aware of just how attractive he was, something which Ilsa had never liked about him.
She had been living with her aunt for five years at the time, and was the ripe, tender age of fifteen.
After Ava had been gone for a few hours, Hans had come into her room. He had sat down on a chair near her bed, where she lay reading.
"You do not care for me very much, do you, Ilsa?" he had asked.
"I do not really think about you one way or another," she told him.
"That is the same as saying you do not care about me. If you did, you would think about me more often."
"I think about you as my aunt's husband, not even as my uncle. You are the man who keeps her happy, and if you can continue to do that, there is nothing wrong."
"I can keep you happy, too," he said, and as he spoke, he had slid his hand to her leg. He had started to rub her leg a little bit.
Then, he stood up and moved closer to the bed, sitting to one side of her.
"You were only a straggly little thing when you came to live here, but since then, you have blossomed into an incredible kind of beauty. I cannot remember when last I saw a girl as lovely as you are."
He moved his lips right over to hers and kissed her hard, pressing his tongue into her mouth, but he never got too far. Ilsa had turned her head.
"Hans, we should not be doing this. You should not be here."
"You want this to happen as much as I do, child," he said, and then, he slid his hand to her breast and began to massage it.
She had slapped his hand away, and that was when he had slapped her across the face, hard. In seconds, had had grabbed her hands, which she was flailing around randomly, in the hopes of trying to slap him away.
She hadn't even seen him pull the thick leather rope out of his pants, but when he started to bind her hands together, she wanted to die. She thought that he was going to kill her, for she remembered the way her mother had first been bound, then abused, and finally, shot right in the head.
Her hands were bound securely, the wrists laced together with the leather strap. He had not tied the end of the strap anywhere, though.
She watched as he sat on her tits and started to pull his cock out of his pants. When Ilsa had seen that, she had really felt like she would die. First they tie you, then they fuck you, then they kill you.
It was only logical for her to think that way, since she had seen such practices actually put into action.
She had been in tears as he'd moved up her body even more, pulled her head up by her blonde hair, and thrust himself into her mouth.
It was the first time she had ever tasted a cock in her life, and she remembered very little about it, except that she did not want it in her mouth. At the time, since her hands had not been tied to anything else in order to keep them above her head, she had been hitting him on the chest, with all her might.
Hans continued to thrust in and out of her mouth. She had never figured out if she just had not been hitting him hard enough, or if he had enjoyed the way she had been hitting him, as if it added to his pleasure.
"Yah, my little girl," he had been moaning. "You do not have to do anything. Just let Hans feed it all to you."
And he had been thrusting all the way in, sometimes to his balls, so that she would feel them pressing against her chin. She had been able to smell the male odor, which did nothing to her as far as arousal went.
Nor did it bother her. It was just there, something she would learn to associate with the male when he was aroused.
It had not taken long before Hans had started to pulsate hard, and for those few seconds, she had felt as if her jaw was being wrenched open. Then, he had pulled back a little bit, so that when he came, he was not coming in her throat, but rather, on her tongue. Only because he kept telling her to do it, did she swallow him, hardly even thinking about the taste of it.
After he had come, he had slid back down her body.
Ilsa had been reading a book when Hans first entered her room, and she had only been wearing her robe and nightgown.
As soon as he opened her robe, he pushed her nightgown up and started to move his head between her legs.
And that was when she first felt sexual pleasure. In many ways, she had been glad about the way it came upon her fast, for as he had first moved his head down there, Ilsa had smashed her hands against the back of his head. The two hands tied together were much more of a menacing weapon than one hand alone, but they had still not been powerful enough to knock him out cold.
She had her hands raised to hit him a second time, thinking that a few more blows would knock him out, when she felt it.
His tongue had pushed her lips apart, and it was running right over the swelling love button inside of her body. She felt a heat through her body like she had never imagined possible, and she started to come right away.
The passion was so fulfilling, and also so intense in its way, being the first time for her, that she locked her legs around his head, and held him there. Hans started to suck as hard as he possibly could.
From that moment on, she had not tried to fight back. She had held her bound hands over her head, as if they could have been tied to the bedpost to begin with. She started to thrust herself up and down, holding his head locked there, so that her love button would be moving against his warm, wet tongue.
She had loved every second of it, moaning as loud as she could the whole time.
Ilsa didn't even know how many times she had come, although she knew, later in life, that she had come a lot. For it seemed, at the time, like one continuous orgasm, one passion filled moment mounting over another one.
When his cock was hard again, he managed to break her leg lock.
As he had started to slide up her body, and she had seen his rigid member, and the way it stuck straight out, she had been scared.
Had Hans known any details about her mother's death, he would have understood her fears. He did see that she was starting to panic, though, and he told her that this would feel better than his tongue had felt.
Then, he rammed himself deep inside of her, with one hard thrust.
It had felt sensational. She had started to moan loud as she thrust herself up to meet him while he kept thrusting. She could feel the way the warmth of his shaft kept making nice contact with her erect love button. In fact, the warmth of his shaft seemed to be sending warm waves through her love button, and those waves were .intensifying themselves and working their way through her whole body.
When Hans moved his mouth to hers and kissed her hard, the feelings were even better.
His hands managed to push her nightgown up her body, over her breasts, and she felt the way his sweaty palms began to massage them.
Her nipples tingled with sensation, which she was loving.
He was inside of her cunt for a short period of time. When she felt him starting to throb, she could feel the way her whole body was shaking. Then, he started to come inside of her, and she moaned softly.
It had ended too fast for her, but he pulled out of her, cleaned himself up, and then he untied her.
And suddenly, because he had come, he seemed to change. He had started out rather nice, until she had fought back a little. Then, when she had submitted, he had been nice once again, although he was thrusting hard.
But now that he had come, he was angry, and their hostile feelings which they seemed to always display for each other, returned.
He slapped her across the face, and spoke in a threatening tone.
"If your Aunt Ava hears one word about this, I'll kill you. She would never understand if she saw us together."
Ilsa had promised not to speak a word of it, and she did not.
However, it seemed that whenever her aunt would be out, he would come into her bedroom and take her. Then, one night, he decided that he wanted her to service him all the way. By that time, she was sixteen, and each time he had been with her, he had tied her hands together, and tied the leather to the bedposts.
This time, he wanted her to service him. He had her tie him up, and then, she moved her mouth down over his body. She started to suck on his cock, which she had learned to love a little bit. It had not taken her long to make him come, and by keeping him in her mouth after the orgasm, she had kept him hard as well.
Ilsa had climbed onto his cock then, riding it up and down, sometimes sitting on his groin and not moving anything but her cunt muscles, so that they spasmed and massaged his eager to come cock.
She had started to ride him for the third time, having stopped twice before when he had been ready to come. Then, the door to her bedroom was pushed open, and her aunt was standing there, screaming at her.
Ava pulled Ilsa off the bed and began to kick and slap her. As she was screaming, Ilsa realized that her aunt thought she was responsible for what happened, and no matter how much she tried to explain that Hans had started it all, she could not.
Besides, how could Hans have started it when he was the one who was tied, seemed to be the thing that her aunt was screaming about Ilsa had been thrown out of the house then. She had been told to pack, and luckily for her, she had kept a great deal of the money she had taken from home. She had never told her aunt about it, thinking she might need it one day.
Her aunt did not even say goodbye at the door. After the woman had untied her husband and left the room, she had locked herself in her bedroom, refusing to come out until the horrid girl was gone.
Hans had been with her at the door, and that was when she had heard the truth from him.
"I am sorry that I had to set you up, Ilsa.
But I was growing too attached to you, and I knew that she would find out one day."
"What are you talking about?" she asked him.
He started to tell her that he had known Ava wouldn't be out so late that night. He had asked her to tie him up that night for a reason.
That way, his wife could come back home, discover them, and blame it all on Ilsa. She had always been jealous of Ilsa, since Ilsa was so young, and Ava did know that she was an older woman to her husband.
It would have only been natural for her to think her husband would want to stray toward a younger girl.
"And so, I had to make this sacrifice," he said. "I will miss you."
"You bastard. I have nowhere to go now. What shall I do?"
And that was when he told her about a bordello he knew of in Berlin. He told her that she could make an incredible amount of money if she wanted to, because she was still very young, and quite beautiful.
That was where she had gone, but before she left, she thanked him for telling her about the bordello, then slapped him across the face as hard as she could, pushing her nails into his skin at the same time, drawing blood.
"That is for setting me up and making me become a whore, you bastard," she screamed at him, and turned and ran before he could retaliate.
For the next ten years, Ilsa Baron had been a prized whore.
She knew what she was, although she hated to call herself by that word. She was just a woman who tended to keep men satisfied, and she liked to think of herself as being a good girl.
She had learned to love almost everything when it came to sex. Every orifice in her body had been penetrated by cocks of all sizes. Once, when a man with a thick cock had wanted to fuck a woman's asshole, she had been called, because after being fucked in the asshole for three years, she could take anything.
When it came to being bound, she could get into that, as well, since it was the way she had first been taken.
But what Ilsa Baron loved the most, and came to be known for, was her ways in which she could dominate men. She had once own a leather corset and high leather black boots, and those men who were looking for a dominatrix knew who to turn to.
It was easy for her to do that as well.
For one thing, she would always fantasize about the man she was beating, being Hans, and she was beating him to get revenge for what he had done to her, and the way he had set her up.
When she had a man tied to a bed, wrists and ankles securely bound, she loved to torture him sexually, riding up and down on his cock until she knew he wanted to come, and then pulling off before he could.
Repeated actions like this, after a time, could turn even the toughest man into a puppy dog, she had seen, and she had made fantastic money bargaining with the men when it came to a final price.
"I could keep you here all night, mein herr," she would say, letting her fingers dance along the top part of the shaft as her cunt was surrounding the head. "I know how much this cock of yours desires orgasm, but now, we must make a deal."
And they would always agree to give her more money, and she would always bring them off to most satisfying orgasms. She knew how to make her cunt muscles spasm even when she was not actually coming, and whenever a man would start to unleash his cream between her legs, she would work her cunt.
That way, every customer thought she had an orgasm at the same time that he did.
Because the customer would feel responsible for it, he would also feel more triumphant as a man, and give her larger tips.
After working there for ten years, she had amassed quite a sum of money. She had been thinking of retireing, but then, her friend Lila had come to see her.
Lila had started to work in a club called the Berlin Club, and she had been thinking of leaving soon. She had started to tell Ilsa about some of the things that went on at the club, and Ilsa had loved it.
She had been praised by many men when it came to her singing, for there were nights when the bordello had been slow, and a few men, and a few of the girls would sit around in the parlor, singing at the piano.
Many times, Ilsa would be asked to sing.
And so, she had gone to work at the club. It was a glorified way of continuing to be a whore, and although it was much less money than she had been making working and living in the bordello, it had been worth it.
For one thing, she did not need the money. For another, she loved to sing for audiences of cheering men. For another, she had been made emcee of the club, and because of that, she didn't have to take on as many men as most of the other girls did.
Sometimes, Rolf just wanted her to run to the dressing rooms and let the girls know that their time was up, and other men were waiting, and although she made no money when she did that, because she was not servicing the men, she didn't care.
One other thing kept her at the club.
Rolf Schmidt. From the day she had met him, she had fallen in love with him. He was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen in her life.
She loved his sculptured looks, and his straight blond hair, and more than anything else, she loved his cock.
It was the perfect sex when it came to filling her up, and Rolf really did know how to fuck her and turn her on. It didn't matter to her that most of the times when he was the hottest with her, she had been forced to her knees and had been bound.
The fact was, she fell in love with his cock as well as him.
And sometimes, when he didn't seem to take any notice of her, she would feel sad, as she did this night.
Of course, she was sure Rolf would satisfy her at the end of the evening. Ever since Lila had left, she and Rolf had become even closer. Often they had supper together after the show.
Sometimes, he would allow her to spend the night in his bedroom, and she was one of the only girls he allowed up there now. She hardly ever thought about the fact that each night when she stayed there, he would nuzzle up to her and fall asleep, so that when they awoke in the morning, his cock was already in her asshole.
He loved to fuck her asshole in the mornings.
But she could not help but wonder about what would happen this evening. She kept thinking that Rolf might want Ingrid to spend the night in his room, since she had been beaten so brutally by that bastard Nazi.
Ilsa would never forget the way that Lila's face had been beaten in. After Lila had been taken up to Rolf's room so that she could recover, Ilsa had gone up to see her friend, and they had talked.
Lila was the first person that Ilsa ever told about what happened to her parents, and Lila had been shocked to hear it.
"I am going to America," Lila had said to her then. "You must come with me. The times are changing here, and the Nazis are becoming more powerful. I believe that if they ever knew who you were, they might hurt you."
"I have changed my name, Lila. They will never find me. Besides, I must stay."
She could not tell Lila why, but there were two reasons.
For one thing, she knew that if Lila was leaving, she would have a good chance to get her boyfriend, and secondly, she was not scared of the Nazis.
"Then stay, if you must," replied Lila, "But see to it that you take care of yourself. The Nazis are dangerous, mark my words."
Ilsa smiled at her friend, and then kissed her gently on the lips, saying goodbye.