Chapter 11

My First German

Before long I had a chance to put Angela's teaching into application.

For some time now, I had noticed a high-ranking middle-aged German officer, on whose frequent visits to the shop had seemed to take a more than perfunctory interest in me.

I had taken an even more pronounced interest in his long black Mercedes, which, with its outstanding pennon bearing an enormous black swastika, denoted a high-ranking member of the German high command.

He was handsome in a brutal sort of way. His hair was blond and naturally curly, his face thin and pale, with clear-cut features, which together with his steel-blue eyes, gave him a cold and cruel look. But when he smiled, his sensual lips seemed to illuminate his whole expression, and he managed to look quite attractive.

Deducing from his smart, brand-new uniform on which hung the highest Nazi decorations, including the iron cross, as well as the generously gold-braided shoulders, that his pockets must be well-filled with marks, I decided to take special interest in him.

Next time he put in an appearance, I turned on my best Hollywood smile.

Stiffening to a rigid position, he bowed as though I had been the mighty Fuehrer himself. I could hardly restrain myself from bursting out laughing in his face, but instead I accentuated my best welcoming smile. He stared at me intently, as though I already belonged to him.

"Gutten Tag, Fraulein. Allow me to present myself: General Karl von Hetzer of the ever victorious German general staff, conqueror of the combined allied armies and defender of the Fatherland.

"You are a very sweet girl and I should like to have the pleasure of getting to know you better."

So saying, he took my hand and kissed it. A respectful, gentlemanly gesture, but a trifle too prolonged to be perfectly innocuous.

From behind the cash desk, Suzy gave me a broad wink. She had not understood one word but his gestures made their meaning clear.

As for me, I pretend to be slightly embarrassed and, blushing modestly, asked him what I could do for him.

"Give me some perfume; anything will do, as long as I receive it from your pretty little hands."

Not bad at all for a beginning. I decided to encourage him.

"Why are you so kind with me, Herr General?"

"Why indeed, my delicious doll? Because I have never seen anything as beautiful as you are. You are like a Greuze painting of a Madonna. You are the living image of Aryan youth, with your angelic profile beneath the aureole of your golden tresses."

It was a pity that Suzy could not understand what he was saying about my pure and angelic character; she would have died of laughter.

Still, on the whole, his behavior seemed to indicate that he was a gentleman of my social standing, which would be of help to me in my dealings with him. This badinage went on for a while; then, getting down to the point, he asked at what time I was free in the evening. I told him.

"Gut. In that case, with your permission I shall be waiting outside with my car tomorrow evening, and I hope you will do me a favor of accepting my hospitality for a while?"

Feigning a moment of hesitation, in order not to seem to jump at his offer too quickly, I accepted.

The now familiar glint of male desire came into his eyes; for the fraction of a second he looked like a famished tiger licking his chops at the sight of freshly killed meat. At the same time, his usually pale face flushed slightly and his upper lip trembled almost imperceptibly. In a flash he again became an arrogant and too polite general of the immortal Third Reich. He took my hand again, and with the same formal decorum of his entrance he made his exit.

Next evening, at six sharp, the long black Mercedes waited on the opposite side of the street.

My two amorous bosses, to whom I had of course spoken of my rendezvous, wished me luck, not forgetting to make me promise to give them all the juicy details of what we had all three thrillingly anticipated was to be my lot.

As soon as the driver saw me come out, he rushed to open the car's door, stiffening to attention as I stepped in.

I was getting up in the world. A mere saleswoman who was already being saluted by a flatfoot of the glorious, all-conquering Wehr-macht.

General Karl von Hetzer welcomed me into his car as though he had been a lord greeting a duchess into his castle.

"Wie befinden Sie, Miss? But let us not be formal, what is your first name?"

"Monique."

"What a charming name. And where does my little Monica want to go?"

"Where ever you like, Herr General."

Leaning toward the driver, he barked a curt command.

The car sped on noiselessly into the night. We were alone together on the deep, comfortable cushions. It was dark, but surprisingly he remained a perfect gentleman. He just took my hand in his and held it gently the whole way, making banal conversation.

Awhile later, stopping abruptly, I had a glimpse of a guard presenting arms, then we hurried into a darkened building.

We went along a somber corridor, ending, as a brutal contrast to the blackout, in a big, brightly lit, well-furnished room.

I stepped back, ill at ease. I felt awkward in my plain black dress among all the high-ranking officers accompanied by a few women with expensive evening dresses, mostly low cut with plunging necklines, hardly covering their prominent bosoms.

"Don't worry about them," said my escort smiling.

At our appearance, there was a general silence, followed by a clamor of "Heil Hitler," and the clicking of highly polished boots.

We went over to a quiet corner table, where he ordered cocktails.

Over a drink and a cigarette, in answer to his inquiries, I told him about myself. I did not, of course, tell him everything. For instance, I did not speak of my noble birth; I also left out my love affairs. Perhaps when I got to know him better, I would speak of them, but if he was naturally perverse, it would only excite him; on the other hand, if he was the sentimental type, the whole thing would be off.

When I had finished, he thought things over for a while, then excused himself for a moment. Coming back five minutes later, he got hold of my handbag and deftly inserted an envelope into it.

"My dear Monique, I have to leave you now, but before going I have left you a sum of money as a token of my admiration and friendship. We shall meet again at the same time and place the day after tomorrow. With it you can buy a dress or whatever you like."

I thanked him warmly.

"Don't thank me now; we shall see about that next time we meet."

Back in the car, pressing our bodies close, we kissed passionately, but to my great surprise he let me go almost at once.

The car slowed down outside my door, and we took a formal parting.

As soon as I got back to the privacy of my room, I opened his envelope, which contained 5,000 francs!

Next day I gave a triumphant account of my outing to Rene and Suzette.

They entirely approved my handling of the situation, but begged me not to forego our private sessions on his account. I reassured them. I had absolutely no plans to stop caressing and being caressed by this expertly vicious couple, who knew so well how to thrill and satisfy me.

After having taken a couple of hours off to go and buy a new dress at the black market, I ran to Angela's place.

She received me with open arms. Congratulating me on my performance, her face hardened when she found out that my lover was a general of the Wehrmacht. She considered it dangerous, although it might be profitable.

Before parting we could not resist one long languorous kiss, our lips stuck to each other's and our tongues darting feverishly in and out. If I had not promised to get back to the shop as quickly as possible, we would soon both have been stark naked, once again resuming our lesbian pastime.

On the appointed day, punctually on the stroke of six, my new conquest drove up.

I was hardly in the car when the general congratulated me on my purchase, praising my elegance and good taste. He went on: it was about time we should go and have supper at a little place he knew.

Now I guessed what he was getting at. The usual routine. A good meal, followed by an even better fuck. This is usually known as the fleshly prelude.

Having gone so far, things now had to follow their habitual course and reach their logical conclusion. After all, I had now made up my mind to be kept by men, or, in short, to become a prostitute. Since my principal occupation was now in the bedroom, I might as well take it smiling. Anyway, it probably wouldn't be bad at all to have my slit explored by the member of a general of the ever-advancing German spearhead.

This was the first time I was going to give myself for money.

I must say, I admired his taste in restaurants. It was cozy and comfortable inside, and we were shown into a small private room which he had reserved. He was a real gourmet. To the accompaniment of soft music, I ate the most delicious meal I had tasted since before the war. In fact, I made rather a pig of myself, while my friend remained silent to let me savor every tasty dish.

At last, having had my fill, slightly flushed with good food and drink, I thanked him effusively.

"Happy?"

"Delighted!"

"Gut. In that case let's get to business. Monique, you lied to me!"

"Who, me?"

"Certainly. You are not Monique an unknown saleswoman, but Monique van P— daughter of the Ambassador of Belgium to the Quirinal. Furthermore, you did not come to Paris alone with your mother. You came with the Marquess van Becker, but above all you omitted to tell me about Count Jack van M—, who was your lover."

"However did you find out all this?"

"My dear girl, this country happens to be under our control. We have to know what goes on, and we do. The Gestapo is very thorough and it was child's play for me to uncover your lies."

I quickly recovered.

"I did not lie to you, but merely left out certain details of my private life. Why speak about my noble past when I am at the present moment only a poor unhappy saleswoman?"

"Don't mistake me, I don't reproach you any of it. On the contrary, you might have understood that a Viscountess is worth a lot more than a mere saleswoman. As for your lover, that of course is a question of personal appreciation."

I smiled and kept silent.

He took my hand and said:

"Still friends?"

"Very much so."

"Soon we can be even more, if you want us to!"

I did not hesitate, I had a feeling it was better not to do so.

"Why not? I like you, and you seem to find me to your taste."

"Even more than you think."

As he said this, he smiled cruelly, already mapping out his next move.

To think that some poor fools make out that love is always the same!

Up till then I had had four lovers, all of which, as I have already carefully explained to you, had different ways of making love. My fifth one, Karl, also had methods all of his own.

When we left the restaurant, we drove to a small side street behind the Madeleine. We were shown into a comfortable studio by an attractive soubrette, who greeted the general as an old and valued customer.

Having brought up a magnum of champagne, she left us alone.

Slumping down in a cushy sofa, Karl said:

"I am so happy to be here, Monique. Come to me."

Obeying, I came nearer.

"Don't be afraid, my dear, there is plenty of room on my knees."

Now, in the presence of my first cash customer, I instinctively acted like a brazen prostitute. With a sly smile I said:

"Karl, you were good enough to offer me this dress which we both like; it would be a shame to crease it the very first day I wear it."

Saying this, I fumbled with the zipper, and it slipped in a cascade of black foam to my feet. I stepped out of it and stood revealed in my jet-black undies.

Wasting no more time, I sat down on his lap.

The same animal look I had noticed before again lit up his face.

He immediately got hold of my breasts, which he fondled slowly.

His voice became hoarse.

"Your undies might also get creased."

"You are so right!"

Getting hold of the flimsy material by the bottom, I deliberately slid it up my body; then, finally ridding myself of it, I flung it aside.

As I had no brassiere, the only hindrance left was my black knickers, which I had left on to create a favorable first impression.

The general reacted promptly. Getting a little redder in the face, he drew me to him.

"You're hurting me."

"I'm sorry."

My naked breasts had been slightly scratched by the iron cross on his uniform. He took off his coat, and to my surprise, putting me in the armchair, knelt before me, and with honeyed gestures took off my shoes.

The contact of his fingers, as soft and precise as a surgeon's about to perform an intricate operation, again filled me in a matter of seconds with a well-known and beloved sensation of pleasure.

His hands went wandering over my breasts, carefully massaging their points until they stuck out hard and pointed. Then his sensual lips lighted on my rigid tits, sucking in with fervor their points, while his teeth nibbled them greedily. In a jiffy, my last piece of clothing was thrown off.

Dropping, down to my ankles, his wandering mouth started to work slowly up my legs, lingered there but a moment, then further up to my thighs.

From his position, his face was hardly six inches from my quim, he could see every hair, every luxurious curl that clustered and made exciting the sweet mystery that lay beneath. He gently parted the lips of my vagina to get an even better view of its rosy softness. Without hesitation his lascivious tongue darted into my heavenly chasm, playing with my clitoris for a while, but suddenly he clamped his mouth tighter over my gaping aperture, and the scorching point of his ever accelerating tongue plunged me into a paroxysm of fulfillment.

In an instant he was naked beside me.

It was then that I began to be a little frightened. His gentle caresses now turned into a cruel frenzy. He got hold of me, lifted me off the armchair brutally, and threw me on the nearest divan.

Then he rolled me over, pinching me all over the back of my body till it was black and blue. He continued harder and more brutally in front. I was lost in a bewildering, mixture of pain and pleasure. Beating and kneading me with increasing vigor, I soon resembled a red-hot oven. This animal heat redoubled his frantic desire.

At last he threw himself on me, but he was in such a state of excitement that I had to get hold of his hairy cock to guide it into my lair, where he buried it with phallic ardor. Faster and faster, tightly enlaced together, we rocked in exhilarating rhythm.

Groaning and moaning in perfect harmony, we approached the end again and again, as despite his apparently uncontrollable vigor, he delayed the supreme pleasure of ejaculation as many times as possible.

Finally we could stand it no longer, and our hot love-juice mingled together.

He was rather a peculiar type.

Now tender, then fondling, and again brutal. And I was even more surprised to notice that we had hardly recovered when he once more became charming, even cool and somewhat distant. He was the sort of man who while making love resembles a wild beast, but no sooner had he finished than his self-control immediately took over, leaving him as unruffled as before.