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Berlin Diary
- Thread starter Barbaria1
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Barb must still be asleep, eh?That should be a piece of cake
Mr. Winder, it has been nice knowing you.
windar
Teller of Tales
Barb must still be asleep, eh?
Mr. Winder, it has been nice knowing you.
I think she just woke up. Like a dormant volcano that starts rumbling...
Barb must still be asleep, eh?
Mr. Winder, it has been nice knowing you.
WTF
Yes, she's still a bit groggy. She hasn't seen it. You might be safe. Ow, that burns a bit.
This plot is thickening nicely, Barb!
And with your only other prayer for rescue on entirely the wrong continent,
Horst is your only hope!
Now don't give up yet... I am firing up THT One...This plot is thickening nicely, Barb!
And with your only other prayer for rescue on entirely the wrong continent,
Horst is your only hope!
windar
Teller of Tales
I should think so too. How could he be so cheeky?
Those cheeks appear to be feeling Barb's wrath
Oh Shit!
Ohhhh, double Shit!
Don't worry, old girl... just a few technical problems... nothing to worry your pretty head over....I just might be a tad late.... patience, what?
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Ja, ja, verdammte Pflicht, Horst!
And remember, Horst, the Thousand Year Reich is only three years old! You ain't seen nothing yet!
Meanwhile, Barb keeps surprising us with the twist in this magnificent story!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Come on, there are faster methods to get her out of the country! Put Barb in one of these and off she goes. Only the landing might still be a problem.
Attachments
I do hope Barb survives this... but if she doesn't there will always be another thread in another place in time...I always did want to visit Olde London Towne.
Episode 18. Late Morning of 2 August 1936 (Horst)
Another scream from behind the interrogation chamber door set me to pounding on it again with both fists. This time someone let me in. I charged into the room full of bluster. Someone was going to pay dearly for this!
Strung up from the ceiling directly in front of me as I entered the chamber were Barbara and that Apollo showgirl, Katrin. Both were stark naked. They hung by their wrists from the same iron ceiling ring, their bodies so close they rubbed and smacked together as they danced under the lash of two whips.
Wielding the whips were two young blonde black-uniformed matrons, each stripped to the waist and taking turns at raking the two writhing bodies with well placed strokes. Bright arc lights mounted on the walls illuminated the scene from two sides, casting shifting shadows of the struggling pair and of their two tormentors on the gray-painted, but blood-streaked walls.
It was immediately apparent that the whipping had been going on for some time. Sweat glistened on the bare backs and breasts of the two matrons ... evidence of the level of devotion and exertion they were putting into their work. The whipping had already left Barbara's and Katrin's naked flesh criss-crossed with numerous angry red lines.
"Stop immediately!" I shouted. "What is the meaning of this? My orders were to do nothing until I returned!"
The four louts ... who earlier had been dunking Barbara ... and to whom I had given specific orders ... and who instead had been lounging against the back wall, enjoying the spectacle of two women being whipped ... looked first at one another nervously and then behind and to the left of me at a short, heavy-set matron with hair bound severely behind her head in a bun.
"I countermanded your orders!" she stated flatly and aggressively, as I spun around to confront her.
"Under whose authority?," I demanded, noting the rank insignia on her over-stuffed uniform shirt. She and I were of equal rank. This could be difficult, I thought to myself.
"Direct orders from Himmler, himself," she responded triumphantly.
"I work for Himmler and Heydrich as well ... the Moore woman is my responsibility," I countered.
"But Himmler telephoned me just now, not you! He had been contacted by Dr. Goebbels, who is demanding speedy action on the Moore case. Himmler wants immediate results and has put me in charge! Goebbels insists that the Moore woman be executed before the day is out."
"Ok, let's calm down and not be hasty about this," I said soothingly. "Goebbels is rightly upset, but the girl is an American citizen and standing her in front of a firing squad could lead to unwanted diplomatic repercussions. We need to properly assemble a case and prosecute under the law before any kind of execution can be contemplated."
"I will get the truth out of her in no time, now stand back!" she snapped, stepping forward and signalling to her assistants to resume applying the last to Barbara and Katrin.
"I suggest then that you allow me to both observe and assist you on this case," I interjected, signalling the young matrons to hold off. "Be sensible Brunhilde, you can make good use of what I already know about this Fraulein Moore."
"Agreed," she allowed, grudgingly. "But my girls are not finished with the prisoners yet! Resume!"
The two young matrons, who had been standing idly by, the business ends of their whips draped lazily over their shoulders while Brunhilde and I resolved our dispute, went back to work with a vengeance.
The room resounded once again with the crack and zing of the lash, and the screams and grunts of its helpless victims. Under the furious rain of strokes, Barbara and Katrin twisted and turned, sometimes pressed face to face, breasts bulging and legs intertwined ... at other times twisting away from one another and arching as a stroke cut across the small of a back, across quivering buttocks or wrapped itself around and grabbed at breasts, ribs or tummy before being ripped away.
"How many more?" I asked, worried that this had already gone too far. Both girls were showing signs of losing their grip ... their screams had become much shriller and more frantic than before.
"Until I say enough," replied Brunhilde, nonchalantly examining her fingernails.
The whipping continued for several more minutes before she called a halt and walked up to Barbara and Katrin, who hung back to back, heads bent listlessly forward. She took a handful of each girl's hair and banged their heads together. They blinked, cried out and looked at her, incomprehension in their eyes.
"Talk!" she screamed at them. "We know you two worked together in the plot to assassinate Dr. Goebbels! Who put you up to it? I want names, dates, places! Come now, now, tell us! Neither of you are smart enough to have done this on your own, or even together. Talk or things will get much worse for you here than they already are!"
All she got in response were blank stares.
She let go of their hair, and their heads drooped forward. The pain and strain were taking their toll. Stretched out and trying to balance as best they could on their tiptoes, both girls swayed slightly as they hung, breathing shallowly, rib cages extended, tummies hollowed and flattened.
"Time for the horse!" Brunhilde called to the four louts, who had resumed lounging against the far wall. They sprang into action, dragging out from behind the open door a heavy wooden trestle with two saw-toothed metal strips bolted to its horizontal beam. From the storage compartment underneath the trestle, they withdrew a pair of ropes and proceeded to bind Barbara's and Katrin's ankles together. Then while two of the goons held the girls' legs apart, the other two pushed the horse with its saw-toothed edge under their crotches.
Barbara, was half-facing me and I could see the look of horror in her eyes as the height of the horse was slowly adjusted upwards with the screw lifts under its legs, and as the two matrons with the whips assumed their ready positions on either side of she and Katrin.
Another scream from behind the interrogation chamber door set me to pounding on it again with both fists. This time someone let me in. I charged into the room full of bluster. Someone was going to pay dearly for this!
Strung up from the ceiling directly in front of me as I entered the chamber were Barbara and that Apollo showgirl, Katrin. Both were stark naked. They hung by their wrists from the same iron ceiling ring, their bodies so close they rubbed and smacked together as they danced under the lash of two whips.
Wielding the whips were two young blonde black-uniformed matrons, each stripped to the waist and taking turns at raking the two writhing bodies with well placed strokes. Bright arc lights mounted on the walls illuminated the scene from two sides, casting shifting shadows of the struggling pair and of their two tormentors on the gray-painted, but blood-streaked walls.
It was immediately apparent that the whipping had been going on for some time. Sweat glistened on the bare backs and breasts of the two matrons ... evidence of the level of devotion and exertion they were putting into their work. The whipping had already left Barbara's and Katrin's naked flesh criss-crossed with numerous angry red lines.
"Stop immediately!" I shouted. "What is the meaning of this? My orders were to do nothing until I returned!"
The four louts ... who earlier had been dunking Barbara ... and to whom I had given specific orders ... and who instead had been lounging against the back wall, enjoying the spectacle of two women being whipped ... looked first at one another nervously and then behind and to the left of me at a short, heavy-set matron with hair bound severely behind her head in a bun.
"I countermanded your orders!" she stated flatly and aggressively, as I spun around to confront her.
"Under whose authority?," I demanded, noting the rank insignia on her over-stuffed uniform shirt. She and I were of equal rank. This could be difficult, I thought to myself.
"Direct orders from Himmler, himself," she responded triumphantly.
"I work for Himmler and Heydrich as well ... the Moore woman is my responsibility," I countered.
"But Himmler telephoned me just now, not you! He had been contacted by Dr. Goebbels, who is demanding speedy action on the Moore case. Himmler wants immediate results and has put me in charge! Goebbels insists that the Moore woman be executed before the day is out."
"Ok, let's calm down and not be hasty about this," I said soothingly. "Goebbels is rightly upset, but the girl is an American citizen and standing her in front of a firing squad could lead to unwanted diplomatic repercussions. We need to properly assemble a case and prosecute under the law before any kind of execution can be contemplated."
"I will get the truth out of her in no time, now stand back!" she snapped, stepping forward and signalling to her assistants to resume applying the last to Barbara and Katrin.
"I suggest then that you allow me to both observe and assist you on this case," I interjected, signalling the young matrons to hold off. "Be sensible Brunhilde, you can make good use of what I already know about this Fraulein Moore."
"Agreed," she allowed, grudgingly. "But my girls are not finished with the prisoners yet! Resume!"
The two young matrons, who had been standing idly by, the business ends of their whips draped lazily over their shoulders while Brunhilde and I resolved our dispute, went back to work with a vengeance.
The room resounded once again with the crack and zing of the lash, and the screams and grunts of its helpless victims. Under the furious rain of strokes, Barbara and Katrin twisted and turned, sometimes pressed face to face, breasts bulging and legs intertwined ... at other times twisting away from one another and arching as a stroke cut across the small of a back, across quivering buttocks or wrapped itself around and grabbed at breasts, ribs or tummy before being ripped away.
"How many more?" I asked, worried that this had already gone too far. Both girls were showing signs of losing their grip ... their screams had become much shriller and more frantic than before.
"Until I say enough," replied Brunhilde, nonchalantly examining her fingernails.
The whipping continued for several more minutes before she called a halt and walked up to Barbara and Katrin, who hung back to back, heads bent listlessly forward. She took a handful of each girl's hair and banged their heads together. They blinked, cried out and looked at her, incomprehension in their eyes.
"Talk!" she screamed at them. "We know you two worked together in the plot to assassinate Dr. Goebbels! Who put you up to it? I want names, dates, places! Come now, now, tell us! Neither of you are smart enough to have done this on your own, or even together. Talk or things will get much worse for you here than they already are!"
All she got in response were blank stares.
She let go of their hair, and their heads drooped forward. The pain and strain were taking their toll. Stretched out and trying to balance as best they could on their tiptoes, both girls swayed slightly as they hung, breathing shallowly, rib cages extended, tummies hollowed and flattened.
"Time for the horse!" Brunhilde called to the four louts, who had resumed lounging against the far wall. They sprang into action, dragging out from behind the open door a heavy wooden trestle with two saw-toothed metal strips bolted to its horizontal beam. From the storage compartment underneath the trestle, they withdrew a pair of ropes and proceeded to bind Barbara's and Katrin's ankles together. Then while two of the goons held the girls' legs apart, the other two pushed the horse with its saw-toothed edge under their crotches.
Barbara, was half-facing me and I could see the look of horror in her eyes as the height of the horse was slowly adjusted upwards with the screw lifts under its legs, and as the two matrons with the whips assumed their ready positions on either side of she and Katrin.
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