Nazi Experimentation
This Nazi unit must be directly under their flight path, Joan surmised as she
stood just outside the perimeter of light bathing the dank cellar now
shoulder-to-shoulder with the enemy.
"I must tell you," said the commandant on her right. "Your opponent is another
of our medical experiments."
Joan looked across the room. A huge woman sat across the illuminated space. She
appeared totally devoid of hair and seemed to weigh at least 300. The female was
also nude.
"As a result, she has a ferocious temper-that's exactly what we were hoping
for."
The officer seemed especially delighted at mentioning her project's temper.
"And this one kills with her own bare hands! She merely hugs her opponents and
smothers them to death. Fancy that."
In the cellar's gloom, Schwanburga's teeth flashed with pride, but then faked a
pout. "Oh, but dear Ellen, or Nicole, or Katharina, or whatever your name is,
don't let me frighten you."
Joan grimly stole her eyes from the big nude and faced the stern blonde in the
tight black uniform. The German was of Nazi intelligence, the SD. She also wore
the usual skull insignia of the SS. A bad customer, Joan thought, no matter what
her wardrobe.
"So...it is now 1700hrs. Let's go! Fight time."
A firm hand pushed the middle of her back. Stumbling into the glare took some
adjustment for her to see. Joan nearly slipped as her jump boots slid over the
stone floor. She gathered her balance as adjusting vision glimpsed a pinkish
blob rushing forward.
Joan side-stepped the charge and swiftly pivoted. Focus sharpened as the
"medical experiment" lumbered by. Raucous cheers echoed the cellar walls. The
big female missed, hissing louder as she stormed past.
Standing in the center of the large pool of light, Joan had time to see the next
approach. This time, she ducked. The impact against the khaki blouse she wore
continued well into her ribs. Breath exploded out. She fell to a knee as the now
furious opponent tripped and sailed.
Schwanburga enthusiastically clapped. In the darkness ringing where the two
fought, she could see her officers and enlisted men all were enraptured by the
battle. This was turning into a better fight than any had hoped. At her side
stood the stoic Doktor Heidrick. His characteristic grim facade did not alter,
but the man's work pleased her. She watched the heavy experimental project make
another lunge at the thin American.
A roundhouse swing swished over her head. Joan remembered her training in
hand-to-hand combat. She swung back, the heel of her hand smashing the other's
nose.
Her hit connected, but it didn't seem to have any effect. Joan felt her 129 lbs
leave the ground. She kicked to no avail. Arms squeezed ribs. She fought for
air. Fists pounded on the other's massive shoulders. Joan squirmed, but the grip
around her rib cage tightened. Before her loomed a sweaty mass of reddened
flesh.
Joan jerked her head away. Bright lights flashed. Dark came pressing from the
other's chest. Joan looked up at snarling lips and grinding teeth. Blood gushed
from where her hand had landed.
Feet still flailed above the ground. The hug tightened. Black spots dotted the
cellar lights. Joan felt herself slipping back into blackness. She summoned what
she had left and butted her forehead into the giant's chin.
The blow struck, but arms gripping her ribs held.
Joan used her head a second time this time weaker but she did feel something
give.
Excitement froze Schwanburga. The American's tan pants slipped back to the floor
following the second head butt. She watched the overweight nude stagger, and
then fall face-down on the stone.
The much smaller woman then placed one knee in the middle of the nude's back,
reach around and grip her chin and rapidly twist. All in the cellar recognized
the sound of a cracking neck. She slowly released her hands, but kept her knee
in place.
Doktor Heidrick's experiment lay still.
"You see, we already know about your status with the OSS, and various
affiliations with SOE of British Intel, and even work with the French
resistance, or as they like to be called, the FFI. You also speak many
languages, including German, but then so do I. You may prefer that I use your
native tongue which is fine, because I speak perfect King's English."
Joan shook her head clear. She was in another room. This time, the one calling
herself Schwanburga stood over her. Bemused and disoriented, she blinked.
"Oh yes...A very pretty American especially chosen for her good looks to do a
"unique" sort of espionage work for the Allies. Too bad you do not breed for the
Perfect Race. You certainly look the part."
Schwanburga brushed back some of her own blond hairs and leaned lower over the
chair in which they had strapped the American. She felt her tight uniform skirt
hike up as she bent, but didn't care. If her boys liked a show of good legs,
then why not? "Your courier plane was shot down and you were taken to this
place-an old mill near Diekirch."
Memory of the courier flight slowly returned. She remembered the crash and
capture. The only passenger, she had also been the only survivor.
Joan rested her head back on the support and remembered who she was. "You won't
get me to talk, no matter what you do." Being an expert in espionage with
special training in Mata Hari techniques had placed her before in many
precarious locations. She was trained to handle this one.
Where she was now reminded her of a doctor's chair. Someone had taken off her
boots and socks. Her feet were held in stirrups. Joan moved her arms, but she
could only wiggle her wrists and fingers of her hands a little. The rest
remained strapped down. Looking down her face she saw that she was still
clothed, with the exception of her bare feet.
Schwanburga calmly replied as she stood up straight and said, "Don't worry. We
already know all we need to know about you and your activities, but..."
Joan twisted her head as another figure appeared. She recognized him as their
medical officer. The scrawny face looked much older than the woman's. In classic
Hollywood fashion he sported a monocle. Few strands of gray covered his bald
head.
"But, our good Doktor Heidrick wants to experiment on you."
She strained every pore as she tried harder to get free of the chair.
"And, I must admit," Schwanburga thinly smiled as she winked at the balding
medic. "So do I."
"Don't worry. We won't make you like that fat cow you just killed."
Joan's eyes widened as Heidrick unbuttoned her cuff and rolled the sleeve up her
forearm. She watched as he located a vein. Cold sweat popped over her face as
she squirmed to get free.
Pale green contents of the syringe slowly left the tube. Joan let out an
exhausted sigh and closed her eyes. Resting the back of her head on the chair's
support, she felt a burning sensation enter her arm.
Schwanburga matter-of-factly continued as the doctor finished with his
injection. She placed a hand lightly over the American's damp forehead. "No,
this won't make you fat. In fact, the concoction was especially prepared just
for you."
She tried to ignore the voice and the heat entering her. Boots clicked as they
slid further down the side of the chair. A light tug lifted her pant leg. Joan
opened her eyes to see the one calling herself Schwanburga taking a pair of
scissors to the khaki hem.
"No, on the contrary," Schwanburga said as she began to cut the pant leg. "This
solution of hormones and special minerals and vitamins mixed with cantharides,
or as some might say aphrodisiacs, is meant to have you craving for sex, sex,
sex!"
Schwanburga paused with her cutting and stroked her lips with the flat blades as
she winked back at the American. "We also plan to milk you." White teeth flashed
and she resumed cutting the lower trouser leg.
Six lamps each mounted on tall stands lit the chair, its occupant and those
closest to it. Military men waiting in the dark recesses watched more of the
sculpted leg revealed as Schwanburga continued to slice away the material. The
lighted scene riveted dark uniforms stirring in restless anticipation.
Schwanburga ran her fingertips along the bared shin. "You are nicely shaved
here. I wonder...all over?" She grinned and started to cut again. "Never mind.
Simply a rhetorical question. In time all shall be evident."
Joan knew the answer, of course, but said nothing as she lay with eyes closed.
Her own blond hair was longer than regulation but superiors allowed the vanity
as just another part of her assignments. She also knew the only body part not
closely shaven was between her legs.
The small triangle of yellow curls signaled to those who cared an entrance, of
sorts.
She yelped in surprise as the trousers came free. The stirrups held. There was
no way she could close her legs. "Very nice...," Schwanburga purred and placed
four fingers flat over the exposed mound. Flesh beneath them softly gave.
Temptation to enter a finger made her blood rush, but she decided that
discretion would set a good example for her men. "But ah! What have we here?"
Joan tilted her head up only to recognize the shaving brush held in the light.
They must have salvaged it from the crash. The German held it up by the handle
so all could see by her index finger and thumb.
"This, gentlemen is part of the American Fraulein's nasty little bag of tricks,
except this time," Schwanburga said as she wiggled the brush. Male laughter
guffawed around the room. "We shall use it on her!"
Joan laid her head back and closed her eyes. She knew what it was for. Her OSS
handler had given the shaving brush to her prior to her last mission. The
hollowed-out wooden handle was loaded with metallic sodium. Any contact with
water would ignite the brush. The incendiary device was meant to be a real
eye-opener, to say the least. The way things turned out, it never had to be
used.
The bristles tickled her mound. She jerked.
"We have to be careful here, but watch what happens when I add just a tiny
little drop of ordinary water...say here, in this small hole in the handle."
A flash sparked. Actually, there were two flashes as first the brush ignited and
in turn ignited pubic hairs. Schwanburga quickly patted out any fire, but smoke
and the odor of burnt hair rose from between the American's legs.
The German officer wiped away any remaining hair and peered down at the pink
vulva with its darker fissure. Using two fingers, she delicately pried apart the
two outer labia to reveal bright pink and said, " So, how are we doing? Guten,
ja?"
That question had an answer as well, as Joan knew only too well. The burning in
her arm had spread. Already she felt her breasts swelling. The pit of her
stomach deepened. Her face and lower neck were flushed. Itching begged to be
scratched. Whatever it was she was given, the drug was beginning to take effect.
Satisfied with the juice glistening between the two slightly parted lips, she
stood. Arms akimbo, Schwanburga evaluated the khaki shirt. "Let's see what else
we have and get you hooked up to the pumps."
Revolted as she was excited, Joan turned her head away. It lay to one side. She
felt half the buttons on her blouse being undone and then the rest ripped apart.
The undershirt she wore underneath heaved as her chest rose and fell, faster
with every breath.
"Ah yes," Schwanburga said as she tore the white undershirt apart. The American
wore no bra. Firm breasts rolled forth as her shirt ripped. Topping each creamy
globe rode blushing pads. Near the center of each "pad" pointed a climbing
nipple.
Schwanburga fondled each warm breast and leered out to the unseen standing in
the shadows. She took one translucent tube from the doctor as he came alongside.
A small motor in the room started. The flexible tube vibrated in her hand. She
placed it over one erect tower. Pink flesh plunged into the shaking line as
vacuum created by the motor sucked.
Joan gulped air as the tube touched and began its intermittent sucking. She
craned her head to see. More than half of her aureole was drawn in. Her breast
wobbled as the tube jerked in place.
Schwanburga placed the second tube on and stood back, excited as well as
pleased. The lines connected to the motor, and now shook each tit. She nudged
Heidrick and said, "Soon, my good doktor. Soon."
Joan had no idea how long she had been in the chair. She tried to keep track,
but her mental faculties increasingly came under the influence of the injection
and its contents. The pumping action sucking her breasts continued. Breasts
themselves swelled. The itching made it hard to concentrate. Keeping her
bearings was becoming more and more a losing struggle.
"Now we are to announce to all what you have already become-a Nazi slut. Doktor,
if you please..." Schwanburga stood aside to make room for Heidrick. She
pinched, and then tugged higher fleshy labia. Heidrick came close. Heat radiated
in his hand from the small branding iron. Schwanburga's heart swelled with Third
Reich pride as the red-hot swastika tip centered and then pressed into the lip.
The American stiffened. She stifled a cry. Schwanburga watched fascinated as a
thin plume of smoke climbed. Heidrick pulled the brand away. Schwanburga saw
that the mark was perfect. She let the flesh drop and lifted up the other nether
lip.
"We just have one more for now to go," she said and patted the American's sunken
stomach. Schwanburga directed Heidrick and his third brand, identical to the
others except that this one had a laurel leaf surrounding the swastika, toward
the top of the American's mound.
Joan laid her head to one side and quietly wept. There was no need to look; the
three brands showed, as she knew all too well.
The night in the illuminated stone room of the old mill continued. The small
motor spit and coughed fumes. Tubing connected from it to the American chugged
along. Soldiers grew bored after waste from the second enema was washed away.
"I know what is certain to hold all attentions," Schwanburga said, sensing her
men's disinterest. Lips widened in a thin smile as with one hand she lifted the
electrical probe. With the other, she coaxed the American's clitoris from under
its hood. "Watch this."
Joan arched her back as the electrical surge exploded inside. Her spine slammed
back down. The chair moved. Another charge flowed. She screeched.
Schwanburga sadistically manipulated each thunderous orgasm. All it took was a
simple tap of the wire to the exposed clit. Yellow piss shot out following the
fourth tap. The golden stream curved to the floor. The American turned Nazi slut
screamed and hollered for more.
The power to the wire was turned "Off", and Schwanburga set it aside. She wiped
her brow. It was getting late. One by one, she extinguished the six lights. The
troops standing around with Heidrick off by himself all watched. "It's gotten
too late for all of us. Let us call it a night."
The motor continued to hum as she exited the darkened room. Others followed,
leaving Joan alone and strapped to the chair.
Nightmares struck like lightening. Dark shapes of her ballooning breasts grew
before her. Joan heard little, save for the constant motor sound. Eventually
gray skies dimly lit slits chiseled high in the stone walls. Just before
daybreak, Joan struggled through another fitful dream and finally slept.
When they came, light in the slits had brightened. Joan groggily rolled her head
up and saw Heidrick with two German soldiers. One of them must have shut off the
motor. She had grown used to its sound, but in minutes realized it was now
quiet.
Looking down she saw her chest had grown yet more. The tubes no longer vibrated,
and without more power for suction, they were pulled off. What once were
blush-colored aureoles now stood a deep purple-brown.
Heidrick gave her another vial of the formula. Its heat was now familiar. She
felt its effect almost immediately. This concoction seemed more powerful. Joan
let it go to work.
They unstrapped the American and helped her stiff body from the chair. Once on
the ground, she was positioned on her knees with her chin supported by her
forearms. Heidrick took another heated brand from a pile of live coals. This one
was larger than the others, but the emblem was the same. The swastika glowed red
as it pressed into one presented buttock.
Joan winced as the brand seared. Her fingers balled into fists, but she kept
quiet. Tears welled when the second burn attacked. Hair covered her shame.
Water splashed over the reddened cheeks and then ointment was applied to the two
new brands. The American was helped back to her feet. Rope bound her elbows
together. She was led out toward stairs that would reach the first floor and
down a corridor to Schwanburga's room.
Joan blinked her eyes. Walking was difficult, but at least the two Germans
steadied her. Bloated jugs hung heavily and swayed with each step. The door they
stopped before opened after the first knock. Behind it stood Schwanburga who
looked much different than before.
She was brought inside and then the two soldiers left, leaving just her and
Schwanburga. Joan could not take her eyes from the beautiful German. The creased
black uniform was gone. The 3/4 length satin robe she now wore fell open at the
top. Joan could easily see the curves of the other woman's breasts. Blonde hair,
much like hers, was loose and draped over the navy satin shoulders.
"Welcome, Liebchen."
She didn't know what to do. The drug was rapidly working on all of her senses.
She stood, speechless.
"For now, this is my room and you are most welcome."
Chancing a glance around, Joan saw an ordinary-looking bedroom. Iron rings stood
out from one wall. A throw rug covered the wooden floor. Timbers in the ceiling
vaulted skyward. Soft music played from a Victrola. Incense candles sputtered.
The brass bed dominated the small space.
Schwanburga smiled at the American, who looked so fetching even in her perplexed
state. She reached out with both hands and cupped the warm jaw. Her eyes closed
and she leaned forward. They were the same height. The American's lips were
tentative at first and then opened. Schwanburga drove her tongue into the pliant
mouth and deeply kissed.
"Mmm..."
Joan kissed back. Her heart raced faster. She pressed herself forward, feeling
the warm satin of Schwanburga's robe slide over her pronounced nipples.
"Come over here and sit on the bed."
She did as told. The plush spread and mattress cushioned her. She forgot all
about the fresh brands on her bottom.
Elbows tied behind her back shoved her gargantuan breasts out even further, but
the German did not seem to mind. Joan watched as the other woman's fingers
clasped around one breast and then lightly squeezed. The drug inside her
churned. She opened her thighs as the German thumbed one turgid nipple.
"Let's see what we have, shall we?" Schwanburga knew exactly what to expect and
was hardly surprised when a yellowish fluid showed over the gnarled stump.
Whitish milk quickly replaced the yellow. Blonde hair covered the heated tit as
she bent lower. Lips closed over the engorged teat and she began to suckle.
Joan moaned. The German reached around with her other hand as she sucked and cut
free Joan's bound elbows. Joan immediately wrapped them around the German's head
and hugged her closer to her milk-laden breast. She curled her legs around the
German and grinded.
"Du bist mein Schatz," Schwanburga whispered much later as she cradled the
American in her arms.
"You called me your darling."
"Yes."
Joan kissed the German back. Both of them lay entwined under warm covers atop
the feather down bed. She lovingly stroked the other's nude body. She had never
felt as sensuous, nor before been with as sensuous a lover. Joan fervently
kissed again.
A knock at the door disturbed them both. The German quickly whispered that she
must now go, but Joan was to be the centerpiece at this evening's banquet-the
last at the mill for Allied scouts were approaching and the Germans needed to
leave.
The two from earlier entered after Schwanburga had donned her robe and opened
the door. The men took the American from the room. When they left, Schwanburga
gathered the folds of her robe and scampered over to the throw rug. She lifted
one corner. Underneath, she opened a peep-hole. It was directly above the room.
More voices were heard and she saw the American being strapped back down to the
chair.
Schwanburga tightened her thighs as she watched. The American's feet were tied
into the stirrups, but this time, her feet were pushed back. Schwanburga
shivered as she saw the knees bend and move toward the American's head. The
floor beneath her own knees started to hurt, but she continued to observe. She
saw Heidrick come over and give the American another injection! The swine,
Schwanburga cursed to herself as she looked down on the scene. Herr Doktor
always seemed one to overdo a good thing.
Blue-green uniforms swarmed. Male frenzy covered the pale nude. There had to be
at least seventeen, and each wanted a share.
In the privacy of her room she came again, but this time as a voyeur.
Schwanburga closed the peep-hole and pulled the rug back over. She looked at her
watch. There was still time for a nap, she yawned, as she pulled off the robe
and crawled into the warm bed for the final time. She pulled the covers over her
head and quickly fell asleep, careless of the bustling below.
Early morning sunlight filtered into the makeshift banquet room. A solitary
figure kneeled on all fours atop the long table. The female was semi-clad. Black
patent leather stiletto heels pointed toward one end of the table. A black
garter belt held sheer black stockings. Large swastika brands blackened white
buttocks. Hanging beneath like udders were large breasts. Milk dribbled from the
engorged teats onto dinner plates set below. Blonde hair covered most of what
was a lovely face. A sling held up the head. A stained sign dangled from the
protruded tongue.
"Hey Sarge," the G.I. said as he held up the paper attached to the hook stuck in
the female's tongue. "Look what I found here!"
Written in English, the script was barely readable. Blood from the mouth of its
owner stained much of the writing, but the Allied soldier was able to make out
that the Krauts had left this Nazi slut behind as a sort of token gesture.
Joan's eyes blinked as she felt her right breast fondled, and then felt milk
squirt out. She closed her eyes and realized that any effects of Heidrick's
concoction were now gone. Any experimentation was now hers alone.
