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Chapter 4 Jill
Crokette’s
Diary
of a Nazi Rape Squad
August 17, 1941, somewhere
in western part of the Soviet Socialist Republic of Ukraine
Attempting in vain to keep her young married daughter out of harm’s way, the mayor’s wife babbled hysterically, giving us the names of various villagers who she claimed were involved in the resistance. Wanting my translator to hear her clearly, I ordered the men to untie her ankles from the trees so she could stand up and speak. Just before I gave the order to untie her, I let the combat photographer snap a glossy photos of her with her legs spread, her ankles strapped to the trees. I wanted to preserve the moment - she looked so damn good with her shaved, raped pussy spread high and wide over the picnic blanket. I told him to give me a copy once they were developed. I’ll put it in my combat scrapbook. Once untied, the old gal could barely stand. I guess having had her legs tied overhead for so long was too much for her. Or maybe it was all that pounding from the younger men. She tried to stand, then just squatted with her back against the tree trunk, her legs clearly aching. As she did, cum trickled from her smooth, gaping semen dump. She had been a fantastic fuck.
I grabbed her daughter by the upper arm and yanked her over to were she was squatting against the tree. First, I made sure I had the older woman’s attention, then turned and with my free hand began to unbutton the top buttons of the daughter’s blouse. I loosen the girl’s collar, gently opening it, then turned and calmly asked her mother to tell me who the leaders of the local underground resistance were.
With her daughter about to be raped or worse, the 45-year-old mayor’s wife did not hesitate to finger the older village schoolteacher and her husband as the leaders of the local underground. She said they were socialist party implants from Moscow. She went on to give me, through the translator, a rather precise physical description of the middle-aged female schoolteacher and her husband, as well as their probable hiding location, a secret village root cellar used for clandestine activities.
I immediately sent a second squad of soldiers to find the subversive couple, this one armed with valuable information regarding their hiding place. I instructed them to, upon finding the duo, promptly search them in order to seize any secret codes or other papers they might have in their possession when apprehended. Soviet communication codes were valuable intelligence secrets which would gain me points in Berlin.
Quickly spinning the mayor’s daughter around to face me, I asked her, through the translator, if she wanted to live to see her young children again. Crying, she replied yes. Looking her straight in the eye, I told her that her mother, who she could clearly see had been stripped and shaved, had been in fact fucked by over a dozen soldiers, myself included, that very afternoon. I told her that now it was her turn. Yes, she was going to be raped by at least 20 soldiers. The young wife and mother looked down, her face crumpling in agony as the translator conveyed my message.
I slowly but firmly grasped the partially unbuttoned top of her billowy white summer blouse as the mayor’s daughter shook her head and said “no, please no sir, I beg you, I am a mother, I have children!” She sobbed aloud, tears trickling down both cheeks, as, with a single, forceful jerk I ripped open her blouse. Every button, all the way to her waist, flew off in a single moment. Stripping the blouse off her shoulders, I stepped back for a moment and ordered a soldier to untie her arms. I didn’t think, with her mother’s life at risk if she refused me, that she would be need restraining.
Stripping her to the waist, I exposed her girlish A-cup breasts to the lusting new group of onlooking unfucked soldiers. Using only my fingertips I gently stroked the swollen lumps of tissue around each erect nipple. They were erect.
For the next hour and a half about 20 soldiers took turns fucking the young 25-year-old mother as her mother, sobbing, was forced to watch. As with her mother, I was also the first to fuck the daughter. Unlike her mother, I didn’t tie her down. When I was finished the long line of soldiers used her in every imaginable position. Before they began their three hour gang fuck, the men formed a large circle, placing her in the middle. They then had her move about the inside of the circle in a clockwise fashion, pausing briefly at each naked young soldier to lick his balls and briefly suck his cock. The greedier ones grabbed her hair with both of their hands and moved her head in and out as they fucked her skull. Once the young mom had completed the circle, they placed her on a blanket in the center of it so that all could watch her get fucked over and over again. It was not only stimulating to watch, but was also an exhilarating audible experience as the girl screamed and cried for hours.
For a woman with two children, the 25-year-old mom’s pussy was still remarkably tight. One horny young soldier after another came quickly as her pussy gripped their cock. Her screams, echoing through the forest, no doubt gripped their minds. Several of the younger soldiers went back for a second fuck, lasting a little longer the second time.
Soldier after soldier came inside her, using her married pussy just as their fellow troupers had used her mother’s. Some forced the girl to kneel and suck them as another soldier fucked her from behind. Others took the young wife in a modified missionary position with her feet on their broad muscular shoulders, slamming hard against her cervix as she screamed with each deep stroke. All in all, I think the young baker’s wife took about 30 loads of cum in her tight fuck-hole that afternoon, and she had moaned with each stroke, down to the very last soldier’s deep, orgasmic thrust.
As the last young soldier pounded away at the mayor’s daughter, to my pleasant surprise the search team returned with the schoolteacher and her husband in tow. They both looked to be about 45 years old. The mayor’s wife, numbed by the sight and sound of her daughter’s three hour gang rape, still sat naked against the tree trunk. I don’t think the couple recognized her right away, maybe because her head was shaved. Ashamed at both her nakedness and her act of betrayal, the mayor’s wife would not look at them.
The rather well-dressed couple was clearly unsettled by the sight of two naked women on the forest floor in various stages of being raped. Wasting no time, I began their interrogation by asking each of them if they could tell me anything about the radio transmitter in the shed. Neither of them would speak a word. I then told them that the mayor’s wife had already informed me that they would know all about it. At that instant they both realized who the nude, shaved headed woman squatting against the tree was. They shot their comrade a cold, traitorous stare.
I ordered the couple to raise their arms above their heads and face me. They complied with an uncooperative frown on their faces. As the husband and wife faced me and slowly stretched their arms overhead in submission, soldiers’ hands wrapped around their waists, unbuttoning their clothes. Immediately, the wife began to cry, no doubt believing she would be the next rape victim. As their skirt and pants were slowly taken loose, the schoolteacher began to speak, crying softly through her pleadings. I did not listen. Both her tears and her wool skirt dropped to the forest floor, quickly followed by her panties, revealing a dark, thick curly bush. Her husband had a nice thick cock
The mayor’s wife and daughter were ordered to kneel in front
of the schoolteacher’s husband. I unsheathed my Lugar and the older woman that if
he was not hard as a rock in five minutes, I would shoot her daughter. To the entertainment of my troops the mayor’s
wife quickly turned him around and, spreading his ass cheeks, began fervently
licking his asshole. Dumbfounded, the daughter took the older man’s cock in her
fingers and wasted no time taking it all the way in her mouth, wrapping her
lips around its base. When I heard her gag, I knew he was hard. Slipping it
out, she held up the slick, stiff pole, showing it to me. I put my handgun away
and patted her on the head reassuringly, the way one would pat a dog who had
just retrieved the newspaper.
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