Arbeit bildet nie ihr freies - Work will never make her free.

Closed thread.


Dieter Kaufmann woke as the sun rose. After only a few moments of hesitation he got up and made his bed. Dieter hammered on the floor of his small house to wake Ariella, his useless bitch of a Jewish maid, then started his morning stretching and exercise regime. After that, Dieter had a wash and dressed in his uniform. His boots descended the wooden stairs heavily and he strode through to the kitchen, where Ariella had a small fire burning in the grate and a breakfast of fried eggs on toast for him with a steaming mug of black coffee. She backed away and stood by the opposite wall, as well she might.

"What is this?" Dieter asked, the absolute neutrality of his tone making her visibly tremble.

"Sir... She stammered, staring intently at the floor. "There is only powdered milk and I know how you hate it so I made black coffee and did not scramble your eggs. Catering says there is no bacon. They expect a supply train today but the snow has delayed it."

Dieter's disapproving stare swept her body contemptuously. Once he had ardently desired her. He had spared her extermination and taken her as his personal servant. The beautiful, dark haired Jew had not been as grateful as he had expected. Unable to coerce her into sex with him, Dieter had beaten and raped her and it had been the most satisfying sex of his life. He had relished her hatred of him, torturing her mentally and physically, using her as his personal whore. Now though, she was a shell of her former self and she bored him. Fucking her was like mounting a corpse and when he hit her, she barely reacted. She was too broken, too detached and apathetic. Dieter no longer had the slightest twinge of desire for her. Her mere presence irked him and lately, he had been finding fault with everything she did.

Dieter bolted down his unsatisfactory breakfast and held his mug out for a refill of coffee. Ariella stood at his side to pour it and it was then that he noticed the way her breasts were constrained in clothes that had fitted well enough a few weeks ago and the fecund swell of her belly beneath her dress and tightly knotted apron. It appeared that he had been careless. That settled the matter. Dieter would not allow his Aryan blood to be diluted within her sub-human womb.

Dieter drank his coffee while he pulled on his heavy wool coat, scarf, leather gloves and quilted hat. It was an important day for him. Today, he would take command of Belzec. It was only meant to be a temporary measure but Dieter was confident he could convince his superiors to make the arrangement permanent. Dieter had worked in Belzec's finance department where he had risen swiftly through the ranks by making the concentration camp much more efficient and profitable. Processing now took half the time that it used to. He had been recommended when the Deputy Governor had been transferred elsewhere. The previous Governor had been shot by his own maid, a shameful carelessness that Dieter did not intend to repeat. So now, at just 31, Dieter was Governor of Belzec. When the position was made permanent, he would move into the larger, governor's house but not until then.

Dieter swigged down the last of his coffee and turned towards Ariella.

"You will come with me." He announced. Ariella regarded him with large, beseeching eyes. Dieter drew his pistol. "Put on your shoes and coat or I will drag you from here without them." He added mildly, as though commenting on the weather. She wasn't going to need clothes where she was going but maintaining the illusion that she would for a few minutes longer would hopefully avert an unpleasant scene in front of the men.

He made her lead the way through the snow, herding her towards where the prisoners dwelt. Ariella was crying but she knew better then to run and become sport for the guards in the sentry towers. They reached the nearest prison block and Dieter told her to stand facing a wall blood spattered from the frequent executions performed there. Some yards away were the heavy gates into Belzec, on which were inscribed "Arbeit Macht Frei" or "work makes you free."

"It is better this way. You will not-"

BANG

"Suffer."

He had crept close to her and shot when she wasn't expecting it, close range, another kindness that he hadn't planned to display. If he wasn't careful, his men might think he was beginning to go soft. She had died instantly and that was about the greatest kindness he could have given her.

Dieter turned on his heel and strode away. The task of removing, stripping and burning those executed by gunshot fell to men far lowlier than he. It was doubtful anyone would notice the early stage of her pregnancy, and it was unlikely many men would recognise her as his maid. It disturbed Dieter greatly that she was pregnant, not out of any remorse for ending the mongrel infant's life but because he was always so careful with his seed. He even wondered idly whether one of the other men had used her.

Next time would be different. Dieter did not intend to spend another few months grinding the psyche of his next slave into the dust, only to be rewarded with a defeated and listless automaton. Dieter mentally ran through the ways in which he would alter his method with the next bitch. There was a trainload of fresh meat due in a couple of hours and Dieter would pick a new girl then, a spirited girl who still retained the delusion of hope.

Belzec mainly processed jews, romany gypsies and poles with the wrong political ideologies. There was also the usual complement of those who drained society; the disabled, the demented and the imbecilic. Some men liked to sport with the foolish and infirm but Dieter considered this to be beneath him. He had seen paraplegics forced to race each other across the snow-covered ground before being shot. Dieter favoured strength of body and mind in the women he toyed with. It meant doing his own domestic chores and being wary of food and drink until she was somewhat broken in but it was so much fun.

Dieter reached his new office and paused momentarily before going in. Men already waited there, seeking his authority on certain matters. Dieter held his hand out for a clipboard.

"What are we processing today?"

I wrote this for someone but she never posted. Any takers?

Ilana Berkowitz sat alone on the train, huddled in a corner as the steamer rocked back and forth. Others cowered with their families, guarded by men with automatic weapons. She watched those families with an almost potent envy; her own family was scattered to the four winds. She didn’t know what had happened to her mother and sister but she’d watched her father shot to death right in front of her. She’d watched her husband try to stop the German’s from taking them both and it had ended his life. Now she was clinging to the hope that her sister and mother had escaped; that they were safe somewhere and given time; she might see them again.

She looked awful but she’d done it on purpose, when the German’s stormed their little home; the family had less than two minutes warning and in that time she had dragged her husband outside. She had taken dirt and rubbed it into her skin, she pushed him to hit her, she’d begged him to do it too. She’d told him that if he loved her, he’d not want her ravaged by the German’s, if he loved her; he’d hit her. He had done so reluctantly, it had hurt, it had knocked her to the ground and given her a large purple bruise around her right eye but the whole mess had done the trick completely. The German’s hadn’t touched her. She almost seemed ugly to them the way she was.

Now she’d tousled her hair into a twisted mass of knots, her clothing was poor and ragged; barely more than a sack on her body. They’d allowed her to take a coat to keep her warm and nothing more, fortunately she’d already been wearing shoes so it hadn’t been a struggle against any frostbite. She remembered the last words she’d ever said to her husband and she’d screamed them frantically.

“If you love me, hit me!” She’d yelled into his face desperately before he knocked her to the ground, she didn’t even get the chance to stand up before the German’s dragged her to her feet.

Ilana shook her head and looked up as the train slowed down, the families and the lone ones like her were growing restless, the fear was ripe. The German’s began to shout instructions at them, telling them to be quiet, to stay still and to do as they were told or be shot. Ilana wasn’t going to disagree with the muzzle of a gun but in her head; she was as free as she wanted to be. She was not going to be beaten down by the traumatic events that had led up to this train ride and she would mourn her losses with dignity.

The train stopped and the doors were being slid open, she saw the outside world again. She wanted to walk around, she’d been cooped up for hours; stuck in a cramped position. Finally the German’s ordered them into lines and she was placed with all the lone young women; admittedly there weren’t many and most looked like their experiences had aged them to a point of death. She was only twenty seven but Ilana was just as stubborn as ever and she even had to fight the desire not to spit in the face of the German who pressed a gun to her back and shoved her forward with it.

She marched off the train with the rest of them and sat down on the grass as ordered. Small little groups were already forming among the Jews and Ilana shook her head at the whispering; they’d surely get people killed. She was seated next to a woman about her age who turned to her and Ilana gave her a small smile. The woman looked lost at first; seemingly broken but when she smiled back, it gave Ilana a small elated sensation that she’d been able to do something for her.

“I’m Liora…” She said in a soft voice, offering her hand to Ilana who shook it with a smile as she introduced herself in kind.

“You two! Separate! You were warned!” A German soldier shouted at them and marched over, they’d been told not to talk and the two parted hands as the German pushed the muzzle of the gun against Liora’s cheek.

“She’s not doing anything!” Ilana protested in a high voice, worried for her new found friend, “Filthy German pig!” She screeched at him and slapped the muzzle of the gun away from Liora’s cheek.

The soldier almost seemed shocked but then upended the gun and hit Ilana in the face with the butt of it, “Silence!” He yelled and walked away, others falling silent as he passed after having seen Ilana.

Ilana’s head snapped sideways with the force of the blow and she clutched her cheek, working her jaw and trying to cease her tears. Liora seemed too terrified to even thank Ilana but it was apparent in her eyes. Finally everyone was looking forward again as it seemed some order was happening, some direction of what would happen next.

Dieter's boots scrunched across the hard, snow covered ground. It wasn't all that often he took an interest in deliveries like this. It did the men no harm to be reminded that he was always watching. He moved amongst the prisoners, marked out by his warm coat and lack of firearm, inspecting them, deliberately approaching the women last. He could feel the tension in his men, how they strove to impress him by being efficient, brooking no disobedience. A shrill female cry rose into the still air like a gunshot, making Dieter's head snap to see which of his soldiers was unable to keep her subdued.

“Filthy German pig!"

Dieter turned in time to see her smack a gun muzzle away from another woman. They must be connected in some way, which meant leverage, interesting. The soldier was quick to shut her up but he clearly disliked being the subject of Dieter's scrutiny. The woman already had bruising though, bruising that clearly predated her arrival here. If other soldiers had already used her, she would no longer interest him. Dieter couldn't make an assessment of her looks but she was slim, young and stupid enough to spit at an armed Nazi soldier. He liked her already. Dieter stepped close to her, towering over her huddled, kneeling form. He grabbed her by the hair and snapped her head back, forcing her to stare up at him. A star was stitched onto her ragged dress; juden, he should have known. Her colouring was similar to Ariella's and there was a nice pair of tits under those rags, they were heaving with fear and loathing too, just the way he liked them.

"Your hatred should not be with my soldiers, bitch." He said silkily, his voice pitched low so only she would hear it. "You should be cursing your indifferent god and his lazy, apathetic son. Your messiah is sinfully overdue now and yet the skies do not weep, no lightning bolt will strike me down. Every day more of the world falls to the Nazi regime. Every day I process more of your kind than I can be bothered to count, just as all the other camps do. And every day, stupid cunts like you scream at me because their god has forsaken them."

His eyes raked over her face. Dieter could see that she had a good bone structure and he was used to spotting potential in filthy, battered, emaciated women now. He couldn't be sure that he'd find her desirable once her face had healed but even if he didn't she'd be fun to play with until he chose someone else. Dieter released her and stood tall once more.

"It seems someone has already tried hard to beat you into silence and you still haven't learned. Perhaps this will convince you to hold your tongue.

Dieter stepped towards the woman his quarry had tried to protect, pivoted on one foot and kicked her hard in the face, breaking her nose and sending her sprawling across the snow covered grass. He turned abruptly away from the women and spoke quietly to the soldier guarding them.

"Let that one keep her hair and put her in the choke."

By the time he got back to his warm office, Dieter knew her name. Ilana would be deloused along with the others but instead of a gas chamber she would receive a brief shower along with others deemed fit and required for labour. Forcing the untermenschen to process their own kind had been Dieter's own idea and profitability had soared as a result. The gas and shower rooms were virtually identical and when he had first come to serve here Dieter had found it amusing to watch the prisoners stare upwards in terror, trying to decide which fate was about to rain down upon them. There would be no food and precious little water. Ilana would eat and drink if and when Dieter decided against putting her back in with the others for extermination.

Ilana would then be put in 'the choke,' a wooden shed that was just 3 ft square, with barbed wire nailed to it in places, preventing the occupant from leaning against the walls. The draughty wood offered virtually no protection from the freezing weather and there was no floor, only the hard, uneven ground. The cell contained nothing but a rather fragrant toilet bucket. If she survived the night without dying of hypothermia, Dieter would get better acquainted with her in the morning. He amused himself with fantasies of raping her in the choke, slamming her pale flesh against the barbed wire, letting her bleed and scream while he took her.

Ilana was still gripping her now bruised left cheek which perfectly matched her right, half swollen, purple eye when a pair of boots came to rest on the ground in front of her. She slowly dropped her hand from her face but before she could look up; a hand reached down and wound in her hair; tugging her up sharply. She gasped and strained under his grip; her chest heaving beneath the sackcloth dress as Ilana felt some fear overcome her. She wondered if she had drawn too much attention to herself by trying to defend the practical stranger beside her. Still, Ilana knew she wouldn’t change a thing if she could.

"Your hatred should not be with my soldiers, bitch. You should be cursing your indifferent god and his lazy, apathetic son. Your messiah is sinfully overdue now and yet the skies do not weep, no lightning bolt will strike me down. Every day more of the world falls to the Nazi regime. Every day I process more of your kind than I can be bothered to count, just as all the other camps do. And every day, stupid cunts like you scream at me because their god has forsaken them."

Her pure loathing for this German grew quickly with his insults but still she held herself proudly, even with his tight grip as she spoke just as quietly in retort, “At least I believe in something and the freedom to believe in it.”

Even as the words left her mouth, she could see he didn’t care. His mind was elsewhere as he looked her over before finally speaking again.

"It seems someone has already tried hard to beat you into silence and you still haven't learned. Perhaps this will convince you to hold your tongue.”

He released her and quickly sidestepped, twisting and kicking out. His boot connected with Liora’s face and a sharp crack sounded along with a scream from the woman as she fell backwards with the force of the kick.

Ilana’s hands flew to her mouth in horror and she squealed, “Oh God!” The blood sprayed across Liora’s face and mixed with the dirt from the bottom of Dieter’s boot.

Ilana quickly got a hold of herself and shuffled to Liora, ignoring the officer who was giving his men orders. She took a grubby handkerchief from a small pocket of her dress and managed to push it against Liora’s nose, getting the woman to stem the blood flow before a soldier came and grabbed Ilana, hauling her to her feet.

Then she was separated into a group, actually everyone was separated into two groups. None of them quite sure what they were in for as they were marched off to two separate yet identical buildings and shoved inside a bare room. Once they were stripped and locked inside, groups started forming and huddling together. Ilana stood alone, everyone seemingly afraid to go near her after what they’d seen happen to Liora.

The next thing Ilana knew, she was being drenched. The ceiling started to rain cold icy water down on her, causing several of the other women to cry their indignation while Ilana merely stood there shivering. The water was hard like small hailstones on her skin as it washed away the dirt she’d rubbed into herself. A soldier opened the door and threw a bucket full of soap bars into the room which went skidding across the grated floor. Ilana picked up a bar of soap with a sigh and scrubbed the remainder of her skin with it, feeling better to be clean.

When they were marched out and given towels and fresh clothing she was relieved. There was little privacy but Ilana managed to reveal as little of herself to the soldiers as possible. The dress she was given was plain off white, long sleeved and made of a warm cotton. Her own clothing had been tossed into a heap which the Germans set on fire to prevent a lice outbreak.

Ilana was about to follow the others to yet another building but two soldiers soon came to her side, she was confused and worried as they marched her in the opposite direction. They came to a small building in the compound and opened the door; shoving her inside and locking it before she could even ask what was going on.

“Enjoy your stay.” She heard the voice of the soldier who’d hit her with his gun earlier, she could swear he was grinning on the other side of the door as he taunted her.

Ilana stepped back into the dark, cramped space of a room and screwed up her nose, covering her mouth, “Gross! What on earth is that smell?!”

She dry heaved, it almost made her want to vomit as she tried to back away from the smell. Her back hit the wall and she yelped as it seemed to bite her. Ilana pulled away quickly, twisting in the darkness and hitting the side wall; her arm screamed at her as it tore open, the fabric of the dress being left on the wall.

“What is this place?!” She cried and clutched her arm, back stepping and hitting something with her foot which reminded her of the smell.

She realized what the smell was and almost threw up then and there; it was a toilet bucket. Obviously one that rarely got emptied and had seen a decent amount of use. Finally Ilana got brave and reached a hand out to touch the wall gently, a prick cut into her skin and she withdrew but it was enough to tell her that the walls were covered with barb wire.

“It’s like a sick torture chamber or something!” She whispered in horror and shuffled back a quarter of a step until she was in the middle of the room precisely, there she stood exactly still for the next few hours.

Soon enough Ilana grew weary and the uneven ground did not help, she’d stumble into a wall and break the silence with a shriek of pain. Or else she lean and forget the barbed wire was there and scream in agony as it cut her open. It wasn’t long before half her body was scratched up, some gashes deep and bleeding while others sealed up faster.

Dieter rose with the sun in the morning, exercising, washing and preparing his breakfast efficiently. He had no duties to attend to for a while yet. He wondered how Ilana was enjoying her time in the choke. By now her feet would be numbed and her reactions painfully slow because of the freezing weather. She would be weak with hunger and thirst and probably badly cut in places if she had been stupid enough to rail and kick. Dieter went to the small room that had recently been Ariella's. There were some clothes there and Dieter would find some shoes for her once he knew her size. There was a bed of untreated wood with a thin, lumpy mattress on it and a couple of threadbare blankets. The door had a heavy bolt on the outside and Dieter could lock it on the inside with a key if he wished. There was no window, it had been removed and boarded up. At nightime this room was in total darkness. A cursory search revealed nothing that Ariella should not have had here. Dieter left the room as it was with Ariella's clothes neatly folded, her hair on the bedclothes. He wanted Ilana to know there had been another woman here and that after he was done with her a new girl would follow.

Dieter wrapped up warm and walked across the compound to the choke. He was used to using Ariella frequently now and his balls ached a little with the knowledge that it would be a while before he could really trust his manhood near this feisty juden bitch. Dieter carried a small cannister filled with water and some bread that had gone stale. He knew she would hear him approach but also that she would be too cold and weak to do anything. He unbolted the choke and opened the door, letting morning sunlight flood the tiny cell. He grabbed his exhausted victim as she swayed precariously and dragged her by the hair, watching her numb feet skitter uselessly until he dropped her to her knees in the snow.

Dieter examined her as she knelt there. There were quite a few cuts, some of them deep. She had struggled but learned swiftly not to... good. He assessed her face again. It looked much better for a wash and there was a pleasing symmetry to most of it. He decided she would do. Dieter let his coat fall open and stepped in front of her, his crotch inches from her face. he produced a knife and lifted the back of her dress, slicing it open so it fell uselessly to the floor, baring her to him. Her skin was so pale. Dieter hardened at the thought of how swiftly she would colour up, how he would add to the cuts and bruises she already wore.

When she finally dared to look up at him, Dieter let her see the bread and water.

"Good morning bitch. Here I have bread and water for you and I see some of your cuts need attention. I have a hard cock that also needs attention. I see you wear a wedding ring, so you must know how to suck a cock." He taunted. "Do a good job and I will let you eat more than my cum. Do a bad job and I will leave you here to practise on all my men."

She hesitated a little too long, her features contorted with rage and indignation. The barb about her husband must have been effective. Dieter made a mental note. He turned away as though planning on leaving her there, naked but for the tattered rags of her dress. Guards nearby shifted from foot to foot restlessly, palming their weapons, silently willing Dieter to walk away.

Ilana spent the night on her feet, she had tried to sit down in exhaustion during her time inside the little torture box only to discover that no matter how she sat; she would scrape a wall and cut herself again; there simply wasn’t enough room. The temperature took a dive through the night and Ilana’s whole body shivered; her bare feet became so cold that a mere movement hurt. Before long; she couldn’t even feel them and she started to sob; losing all control over her emotions. It was like a living nightmare, she was freezing, exhausted, hungry and dehydrated.

When she heard the footsteps coming towards the box, she was out of it but finally she felt a little sparkle of hope; she was getting out of this hellhole! The door opened and her eyes shut tight to protect them from the morning light as a hand grabbed for her hair and dragged her from the choke. She could barely cry out but the pain brought her to life a little and her feet refused to obeyed her commands to save herself from the hair pulling menace. When he released her, she simply slumped to her knees without enough strength to stand.

She felt the swish of what she assumed was his clothing as he stepped closer and she groaned softly; recognising his boots. They were cleaner on the top than most of the other soldiers, her arms wrapped beneath her breasts to protect her from the cold air as she felt him leaning over her. Ilana felt the tear and the cool blade skimming her skin, when he stood up straight again; the rush of an icy breeze hit her bare back and made her teeth chatter. He cut my dress open?! Is he insane?! She thought as she slowly looked up at him, wondering what he wanted. She saw the bread and water in his hands and had to stop herself from licking her dry, air bitten lips.

"Good morning bitch. Here I have bread and water for you and I see some of your cuts need attention. I have a hard cock that also needs attention. I see you wear a wedding ring, so you must know how to suck a cock. Do a good job and I will let you eat more than my cum. Do a bad job and I will leave you here to practise on all my men."

Ilana’s anger sparked and she glared at him, she’d never wanted to hit a man so much in her whole life! She couldn’t even answer him; she was so furious. She watched him turn from her which made her soften a little; she hadn’t expected him to just walk away from her. Ilana’s eyes started to shift from side to side as she caught movement in her peripheral vision and realized there were guards nearby. She watched them grow restless as Dieter turned, before they’d been still so it didn’t take much for Ilana to put two and two together.

If he leaves me…I don’t even want to think it…but they will and I’ll be…God, forgive me! Ilana thought silently, her head tilted back slightly. She was so cold and so tired, she barely had the strength to do as he told her but she chose the better of two evils.

“Wait.” Her voice came out croaky and soft, she coughed to clear her throat, “Wait! I…I’ll do it…” Just please don’t leave me here to your mongrel pack! She thought as her teeth ground against each other, she already hated herself for telling him she’d do it and as she imagined the act; the self loathing only grew worse.

Dieter paused, as though uncertain whether to leave her to her fate or not. He turned slowly, almost reluctantly, eyeing the kneeling, naked, hypothermic woman at his feet with distaste, as though regretting demanding such a favour from her. In truth, her pitiful state and obvious humiliation aroused him greatly but Dieter was a master of self control. His member obediently deflated in his trousers and she would have to have some degree of skill in order to awaken it again. He did not look at her as he returned to his place and opened his fly. She would read that as disgust and contempt but in reality it was to keep her full tits and injured body from making him hard again. He could have let her free him herself but Dieter had learned the hard way how much exposure to the cold affected a woman's fine motor skills and he lacked the patience to watch her struggle. He noted briefly how blue her lips were and how each breath she took was shallow and laboured. If he left her here, she would not survive the guards' use of her. It was empowering knowledge and he wondered if she knew it too. He did not touch her, he simply waited for Ilana to proceed.

Her reluctance was palpable. He could have got off on that alone, just stood there and jerked a hot load onto her face. Dieter wondered what she made of his apparent lack of arousal. He gripped the bread and water as she went to work, resisting the urge to encourage her with a fist in her hair and his cock down her throat. This was not the time for such games though. This was about her learning that every basic need would have to be earned from him. That if she bored him or failed him he would discard her. That his cock was about to become central to her survival.

She was going too slow for Dieter to really enjoy the blowjob, partly because she was cold enough to have impaired movement and partly because her teeth were chattering. Dieter sighed and decided against continuing.

"Fucking useless." He hissed, pulling out of her mouth abruptly and fastening his clothes.

He swung Ilana onto his shoulder and carried her to his house, leaving the stale bread and brackish water on the frozen ground. Ilana would need something more substantial of she was going to be of any use to him but there was no need for Dieter to bother informing her. Let her think there would be no food or drink for her. Let her think she was going to die. Let her think what she liked.

He carried her into his house and through to Ariella's old room, which was towards the back. Dieter dumped her onto the hard, narrow bed and left her there. Ilana's hypothermia would restrain her effectively enough for Dieter to find what he needed. He returned with some surgical spirit and a field suture kit.

"I'm feeling surprisingly magnanimous today. I'm going to patch you up, then you can try again." He informed her with a rare, unpleasant smile.

Dieter straddled his victim and splashed the surgical spirit liberally into her worst wound, which was on her right forearm. He watched her squeal and struggle with relish. Dieter grabbed her arm and pressed his thumb into the wound, baring his teeth as he dug his nail in and inflicted enough pain to immobilise her.

"If I were you, I would stay still, or who knows where I might put these sutures?"

Dieter held the curved needle up close to her mouth, as though intending to sew it shut. When she was still and quiet, he withdrew his thumb from her wound and tasted the blood on it. Her flesh had torn jaggedly on the barbed wire and Dieter was no surgeon. This was going to hurt her like hell and it was going to scar. Dieter went to work, his enthusiasm compensating for his lack of skill.

Ilana watched his slow turn and stride back to her, she was beyond freezing and very much numb, taking icy breaths which seared her lungs. She watched him as he slowly slid his fly open without so much as glancing at her, she felt more than humiliated as he didn’t even seem to care at all about her condition or who she was. She was just an instrument to him and Ilana cringed as his cock flopped out at last in front of her.

She edged forward a little and reluctantly wrapped her frostbitten lips around his shaft, trying to stop her chattering teeth as his dick warmed her mouth considerably. However before she’d even begun; she knew that this would take an impossible amount of time and that she was unable to go any faster. Ilana was near frozen inside out and her tongue was barely moving, she tried harder and screwed her face up disgustedly with the effort it took before finally he just pulled his member from her mouth.

"Fucking useless."

Ilana dropped her head and flinched a little as he fastened his pants again, he lifted her easily as she could do nothing to fight him. Her dress had slipped halfway down her arms and she groaned softly as she saw the bread and water sitting in the snow while he took her away. This is it, she thought tiredly, he’s going to fucking kill me and have done with it…I just hope it’s a warm death.

She looked around anxiously as he entered a house and finally the icy wind coating her skin ceased, she warmed up somewhat just by being out of the air. He dropped her onto the hard bed and it knocked the wind out of her, she curled slowly as she tried to find some function in her limbs, urging them to obey her brain’s commands. Before she could manage to inch so much as a toe off the bed, he returned to her.

"I'm feeling surprisingly magnanimous today. I'm going to patch you up, then you can try again."

His smile made her recoil into the mattress fearfully, it caused the most horrible feeling of dread she’d ever experienced. He straddled her and splashed alcohol onto the deep open gash in her right arm, she screeched as liquid fire burned through her. She writhed and cried as his thumb nail dug into the open wound, finally she froze up, teeth clenched as she couldn’t take it anymore. Her eyes leaking tears of pain as she looked up at him.

"If I were you, I would stay still, or who knows where I might put these sutures?"

Ilana whimpered and fell silent, pressing her head back into the bed while pressing her lips together tightly as he held the needle over her face menacingly. She even held back the gasp of relief as he lifted his thumb from her wound but she could not hold back the cries to come as he began to sew up her deeper cuts. She screamed with each splash of alcohol on an open wound, she cried out as he sewed the wounds shut and all in all; Ilana endured an incredible amount of pain before blissful unconsciousness overtook her.

Dieter finished his work on her wounds. When he was done he took another long look at her, but elected to leave her there. Ilana was malnourished, hypothermic and exhausted. To force a second performance from her now would be pointless and he would have to kill her for it or she would get stupid ideas about his compassion for jews. He left her lying on top of the blanket instead of beneath it but Dieter went through to his kitchen and lit a fire in the wood burning stove there. It would warm her room as well, given a little time, but Dieter would still appear to be selfishly heating the part of the house he was using. He put some bread and cheese on a wooden board. Till he knew what manner of bitch he had chosen, Dieter was not going to let her use anything that could be smashed and used to attempt suicide. He filled a tin mug with water and returned to Ilana's bedroom, where he placed the food beside her bed. There was a bucket in one corner that she could use as a toilet. Dieter did not share his bathroom with filthy juden whores. He checked the wood nailed into the windowframe and was satisfied that she wasn't going to budge it.

Dieter turned to Ilana, drinking in her beautiful, pale, bruised face. His eyes swept down over her full tits, neat waist, luscious ass and slender legs. The cuts, sutures and bruises webbing her body were glorious. Dieter turned back to her face, his right hand freeing his cock absently as he noted the improvement in her pallor, the reassuring deepness of her breathing. He spat into his hand and stroked his cock, imagining adding some strangulation marks to her throat and teeth marks to her tits. He pictured turning her over to tan her backside and then force himself into it, pounding her like the worthless piece of meat she was, his heavy balls slapping her cunt with each merciless stroke. He imagined her screams and cries, begging for mercy, pleading with him to stop.

Dieter grunted quietly and stepped forwards to cum all over her face. Ropes of his hot seed spurted over her eyes, nose and mouth. Dieter took a handful of her thick dark hair and used it to wipe his cock clean, then he tucked it back into his khakis.

Wonder what she'll think of that when she wakes up. He mused.

He left her room, locking it with the key and bolting it high up by the top of the door too. Dieter made his way over to his office, eager to make up for the time he had lost this morning.

When she woke Ilana would be cold, for the wood he had lit in the stove would have burned down to embers. She would be in an almost totally dark room, which only faint chinks of light finding their way past the boarded up window. She would have a face full of dry cum and be in another woman's room, with another woman's things in it. Dieter would not return until much later in the day.

Ilana woke with a start, bolting upright in the darkness as her heart rate sped up and her breathing was quick and shallow. She was freezing! She calmed slowly in the darkness and reached out, clutching at the air in fear that she was back in the choke. When she’d reached far enough, she was satisfied that she was still in the bedroom where he’d…

She shuddered, “Bastard…” She muttered and winced as she moved to stand up.

Ilana remembered the stitches and eased off the bed carefully, she tugged the blanket up and pulled it around her until she sat down on the mattress again. She lifted her hand to her eyes and brushed the hair from her face, some of it was easily removed while the rest needed to be peeled off. She screwed up her nose and started to explore her cheeks tentatively, her fingers sticking to her skin.

“What the…” She whispered as her tongue moved to lick her lips and the bitter unmistakeable flavour of a man’s seed hit her senses.

She stood up fast and threw the blanket off her in horror, she screamed, “You disgusting asshole! Oh God…”

She covered her face with her hands and sunk to the bed again, crying softly as the cold forced her to wrap the blanket around her again. After a short while, Ilana got brave, warm and calm enough to start searching through the room, shafts of light assisting the illumination as her eyes adjusted to the dark surroundings. She found the food and water, her stomach growling appreciatively as she scoffed it down and tried to remember the last time she’d eaten anything. She used some of the water to wet her face and tried to clean as much of his cum from her as she could, using her tattered dress to wipe it off.

She frowned as she realized she’d need some other clothes, Dieter had destroyed it, the dress was open down the back and the only thing keeping her warm was the blanket wrapped around her. Ilana walked around the room, stubbing her toe in the corner, she reached down into the darkness and her fingers brushed the edge of a bucket.

“Eww…” She murmured and screwed her face up in revulsion, “Not another damn shit bucket!”

Ilana moved to the dresser, a simply roughly cut thing that looked like it was made by a blind carpenter. She opened the drawer and found it full with clothes both warm and simple but what was on top of them made her near scream. She covered her mouth and stumbled over to the bucket, barely making it before she started to dry heave. In her hand she’d taken up the very thing that was about to make her throw back her food; another woman’s hair. She finally calmed without vomiting and dropped the hair into the bucket with a shiver, rubbing her hands and upper arms disgustedly.

She was breathing heavily by this time, utterly afraid of whatever had happened to the woman that had been attached to that hair at one point or another. Ilana had considered beating on the door but now she was grateful she hadn’t, she didn’t want that sick bastard to return anytime soon. She slumped back on the bed in tears, wrapping the blanket around herself protectively, she didn’t want to wear the other woman’s clothes. She felt sorry for her, someone she’d never met and she wondered what had happened to her.

“Why doesn’t he just kill me for fuck sakes?” Ilana whispered in a horrified voice, she never swore but she’d done nothing else since she’d arrived at this place.

Ilana groaned and laid back on the creaky bed before she moved again, this time determinedly. She wanted to know who this woman was and what had happened to her.

“Surely she left something?” Ilana muttered and slid from the bed, she searched around for awhile without result before finally she got down on her hands and knees to look under the bed.

Her hand slid around the bare floor in a desperate search, she yelped softly as something sharp stabbed into her palm. She withdrew her hand and sucked on the wound before she slowly slipped her hand down again, trying to find whatever had stabbed her. She found it; a lose nail in the floorboard, Ilana frowned as a simple touch made the floorboard lift in a seesaw motion. She gasped softly and then smirked, the woman before had a small secret hidey hole. Ilana freed a small badly crafted box from beneath the floorboard and sat kneeling on the floor as she opened it.

She pulled a battered photograph out of the top and blew the coat of dust off of it, it was of a family, a woman and her husband standing with their two children. Ilana felt a pang of sadness as she saw their happy and smiling faces, she turned the photo over and written in a neat scrawl was ’Otto, Ariella, Thomas and Jane’. Ilana placed the photo aside and rifled through some old letters, she nodded and placed them with the photo before pulling a small battered book out of the very bottom of the box.

Ilana read the gold cursive on the cover ‘Diary’ and she shrugged, opening it up to briefly scan the first few pages. There was a very blunt pencil inside it which looked like it had been sharpened with a knife. Ilana knew the woman who used to live in this room was Ariella now.

“What happened to you?…” She murmured the question sadly and flipped to the last entry in the diary.

Dear Diary,

I live each day just like the last, praying that the Nazi regime will end and I can be reunited with my children. I fear for them always and hope they are alive and well but somehow I am doubtful. I call him Sir when I wish I could call him a monster but I am not so brave. Today there isn’t enough supplies left to make him a proper breakfast, I fear his wrath but I shall do what I can. I am accustomed to it now. I no longer please him, I have seen his eyes wandering and searching for some other to replace me. I fear what shall happen to me if he finds some other. Still I don’t know how to prevent it. My belly swells everyday, I fear he shall discover that his now to be second in command Günter has taken me to his bed. He becomes the commander of the camp today. I fear for my life, he chose me because I hadn’t been ravaged by other soldiers before I arrived here. I hope they all burn in hell for making me live in it.

Signed,
Ariella.

Ilana’s eyes fell on the date and she gasped, covering her mouth as a tear came to her eye, “Yesterday? Belly swells…pre-pregnant? She was…oh God save me…” Ilana sniffed and whispered into the darkness.

She scurried to replace the items, shoving the box back under the floorboard lest she be discovered. She shifted back to sit on the bed, drawing her knees up and covering herself with the blanket as she heard the bolt in the door slide back. She snorted quietly, she’d guessed he’d locked it but this proved it.