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The Dominafuhrer
Miss Spiteful's War

The New Recruit
Enslaved In Skirts
Ingrid and Fate
Walter's Enigma
The Italian Job
The High-Heeled Contessa
Rolling With Pain
The Spy Who Never Was
Ingrid's First Date
For The Love Of Willi
Dressing For Work
The Colonel And The Nurse
Anya's Curse
Future Imperfect
Reinhardt The Rampant
The Bomb Under The Bed
Hungarian Rhapsody
Against The Clock
General Josephine
The Bomb Plot
Gunfight At The OKH
Up Against The Wall
City Under Fire
The End Of The Unit
The Toad Triumphs
Kill Miss Spiteful
Heil Himmler!
Mistress Storm
Miss Spiteful's Revenge
Last Exit From Berlin
The Name Of The Goddess

The Dominafuhrer 1952
Miss Spiteful's Gold

Give My Regards To Bremen

The Stories of Yvonne Sinclair

Alice And Anna
On The Beach
The Bisley Boy
Silk Stockings On A Ladder
A Merry Ferry Christmas
Stella and Fanny

The Sacred Feminine

The Sacred Feminine

The Story Of T

Arrival At The Institute

Julia

An Introduction

VO Stories

Jenny
Miss Malcahy's Detention
Nine and a Half Hours

The Weight Loss
Programme

I Sign A Contract

The Convict

The Convict

Stories

65
A Caning By Miss Spiteful
Always On The Bare
A Visit To Greenwich
At My Lady's Pleasure
Ball Shackle Story
Charles
George
I Met Claire In A Coffee Shop
Judicial Bastinado
Kevin's Poem
Kim
Long Weekend
Long Weekend Conclusion
My Visit
Penitence
Plimsolls
Robin's Electrical Torture
Shoeshine Boy
Slave To The Cane
The Basement
The Colony
The Escape Artist
The Huntress Caning
The Language School
The Worm's View
Webb Encounters
Z

The Bossy Bank Women

A Judicial Punishment

The Valkyrie

Episode 1

Norseland

The Vision
The Agreement
First Blood

EXIT

EXIT THIS SITE

The Dominafuhrer - MISS SPITEFUL'S WAR

Episode 9 - Ingrid's First Date

September 1942

When I read the report that she had left me, I could not believe the tissue of lies that she had written but I typed it, cleaned and tidied all four of the dungeons and dressing rooms and was sorting the morning correspondence when my Mistress arrived. She sat opposite me and quickly read my typescript before signing it and tossing it back over the desk.

“Get it over to Walter now and make a copy for the files.” I hesitated but saw that she was not ready to explain herself now and hurried out to do her bidding.

On my return, I found Willi sitting in my chair. They had obviously had some sort of disagreement, which was now settled, and Miss Spiteful waved a dismissive hand at him.

“It’s your choice, Willi. If you go, I cannot protect you.”

Whatever had been decided, Willi looked happy and, on his way out, gave me another of his smiles. I was puzzled by his behaviour but was more intrigued by what I hoped to hear from my Mistress. As I settled down in my chair, she was still gazing at the door.

“Silly boy, “ she said. “Now we are no longer a secret, he wants to volunteer for active service. I tried to dissuade him but I can’t stop him. He’s gone off to see if the Waffen SS will take him.” She shook her head and then looked at me with a faint smile. “That, now of course, applies to you as well, Ingrid. You can go back to the Ostfront with a clean record if you want.”

I gave her a horrified look and protested my loyalty to her until she burst out laughing. “Your face is a picture, Ingrid. As if you would want to give up your skirts and nylons. Now, I suppose you want to know what went on here last night?”

I nodded and got out my cigarettes. This promised to be very interesting. Miss Spiteful swung round in her chair and put her high-heeled leather boots up on a metal waste bin. “That woman was never a spy. She wanted to hurt us but all she achieved was to frighten a Priest at the Vatican who is running an underground escape route for Jews. He wouldn’t pass anything on and probably burnt anything that she gave him before he made her swear to keep it all secret and stop meddling.”

“I noticed that that you did not repeat his name.” I interjected.

“None of my business.” She gave me a sideways look. “Walter and the Italian Secret Police will probably spend a lot of time and money putting informers into the Vatican to try and identify the other members of the spy ring. It will keep them amused for a while."

“But why lie to him?” I asked. “And how could you tell that she was not lying to you?”

“No one threatens me in my dungeon and everyone tells me the truth eventually. I’m also entitled to decide if that truth can be interpreted differently. I started with the usual simple question when she had braced herself to resist giving up information on spying and, once I had broken her and got that one answered, the rest just came out truthfully.”

“What has happened to her?”

“Well, she can’t go back to Italy and I dare not let Walter find out that she is still alive, so I’ve packed her off to a Nursing Convent at Weimar. They’ll look after her for a while until I can get her some new identity papers for travel to Switzerland. After that? I don’t care.”

“A convent?” I was really puzzled. That was the last place that I imagined Miss Spiteful would have anything to do with.

“Oh yes! What other institution will take someone in without questions and can be relied upon to keep a secret? We girls have always sent injured clients and colleagues there. Add a generous donation and the Devil himself would get treated for hellfire burns. You’re a Gestapo Agent now. Would you think of looking for a fugitive there?”

I shook my head but I was still perplexed. I still not understand why my Mistress had committed such a fraud. She saw my face, dropped her legs to the floor and swung back to face me.

“I torture and punish people who deserve it as my enemies or who have paid for it. That woman was neither but I had to put her through it. Don’t you know that stories are already circulating about our little procession around the corridors last night? When Walter gets to hear them, he’ll know that I had tortured her.”

She reached for the pile of correspondence as if the matter was now closed but I had more questions.

“What was that remark you made on the telephone about the real King of England?”

Miss Spiteful smiled again. “After the defeat of France, the ex-King Edward was in Lisbon and Walter went there to persuade him to join us or to kidnap him if he refused. The British got wind of it and shipped their man out quickly but, although it is supposed to be a secret, the story got out and Walter does not like to be reminded of one of his failures.”

“And how did you know that the Contessa’s husband like to take her up the back passage?”

Miss Spiteful’s lips curled in a sneer. “It’s a macho thing with the Latins. They believe that it’s the right of the dominant male and demeans the female. An Argentinean client tried it on me after a session in Paris. They found him crucified with a nail through each testicle and his penis as well. They had to remove the bathroom door and carry him on it to the Hospital before the nails could be removed. I’ve still got the newspaper cuttings somewhere. It was another reason why I had to get out of France in a hurry. Is that it? Can I get on with my work? Miss Stiletto will need your help with a Yugoslav Partisan later who we have to persuade to change sides to ours.”

I got up but had one more question. “What about our codes? Are they secure?”

Miss Spiteful looked up from her paperwork and smiled. “Now that is an enigma.”

I was whistling to myself as I left Miss Stiletto’s dungeon later that afternoon with a mop and a pail of bloodied water. I was wearing my French Maid’s outfit, which always got me excited and I had just masturbated in front of the mirror, leaving me flushed and happy. The interrogation had been both frustrating and amusing as neither of us spoke Serbo-Croat and, due to a mix up somewhere, our prisoner’s Italian was not in any dialect that Miss Stiletto understood. Still, we had persuaded him that his Chetnik Partisans were better off fighting for the Reich against their former Communist allies.

Willi came stamping down the corridor in his best uniform and waving a brown envelope. “Ingrid”, he called out. “I’ve got my orders.” I stopped, not knowing whether to congratulate or commiserate with him.

“There’s no SS Divisions on the Eastern Front at the moment, except the Mountain Troops, but I’ve managed to get a posting to the Sixth Army at Stalingrad. There’s plenty of action there.”

How could he be so happy? He must have no idea what the war is like. I wished him well and was moving on when he coughed and hopped nervously from foot to foot.

“Miss Ingrid. I’ve been really wanting to tell you how much I’ve admired what you have done and I wondered if you, er, would like to go out to dinner with me tonight?”

I was so astonished that I nearly dropped the pail of water. What should I say? Was this some elaborate joke? Was he doing it for a bet? I was at a loss for words but, for some mad reason, agreed. We arranged to meet later and he went skipping off down the corridor. Minutes later I was repeating the conversation to Miss Spiteful in her dungeon.

“Thank heavens!” She clapped her hands. “At last! He’s been like a sick calf over you for weeks. I never thought that he would have the courage to ask. What are you going to wear? Not that I trust.” She indicated the French Maid’s outfit.

“Oh no!” I gasped. “I’ll be in my uniform.”

“You will not.” She replied. “For one thing, you are an officer and he is a private. Wait here while I see what we have in our wardrobes.”

She came back with a pile of clothes over her arms and held up a floppy, white, wide-brimmed hat. “Sapphire’s,” she said tossing it on to the desk. “This dress of Stiletto’s should fit you.” It was a dark blue summer frock with white polka dots, collar and cuffs. That went over the chair and she extended an open hand towards me, which held matching aquamarine earrings and a necklace. “These are Solitaire’s. I don’t need to tell what will happen if they are not returned before she gets in tomorrow. Likewise, any underwear that you borrow from the wardrobe here. The only thing that I couldn’t find in your size was some matching shoes.”

I blinked back the tears that were welling up in my eyes and went to get the newspaper wrapped parcel that I had hidden away when I had come in that morning. I revealed the Contessa’s blue high heeled shoes that I rescued and cleaned up from the dressing room. “I hope you don’t mind”, I whispered apologetically. “But they do fit me and the Contessa won’t be needing them.”

Miss Spiteful laughed. “I don’t think that the convent would approve, either. Strip off and shower and then I’ll do your hair and make up. Let’s make sure that you both have a memorable evening.”

To continue this story, click For The Love Of Willi



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