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The Spy Who Never Was
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For The Love Of Willi
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The Bomb Under The Bed
Hungarian Rhapsody
Against The Clock
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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
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Silk Stockings On A Ladder
A Merry Ferry Christmas
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I Sign A Contract

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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 17 - The Bomb Under The Bed

July 1944

A pounding on Reinhard’s apartment door wakened us. He disentangled himself from me and, pausing only to draw back the blackout curtains, went to see whom his visitor was. I blinked sleepily at the daylight and peered at Reinhard’s smart bedside calendar clock. It was only half past five! I needed to use the bathroom but, to my horror, I heard voices at the bedroom door. I decided to settle for a cigarette and just managed to pull the bedcover up over my waist when Reinhard and his guest entered.

“Ja, it is in here.” Reinhard was saying. “I cannot believe that it could really happen today.” The other man was a dark haired officer in his mid thirties with the same aristocratic air as Reinhard. "Ingrid, my sweet. This is my good friend, Werner Von Haefton. He has come to collect his briefcase. Werner, this is Obersturmfuhrer Ingrid Hartemann.” Von Haefton smiled thinly as he looked at my naked breasts, the rumpled bed, my SS uniform on the hanger, the cuffs dangling from the bedstead and the discarded cane on the floor. “Guten morgan, Fraulein Ingrid. Reinhard has mentioned you but he did not tell me how young and beautiful you were. "Did he tell you that I’ve got a prick and bollocks and that I need a shave?’ I thought sourly and trying to smile sweetly as I mentally cursed Reinhard for bringing this man into the bedroom.

My lover got down on his knees and reached under the bed. “Ach, ja! Here it is!” He stood up clutching a big and heavy looking leather briefcase, which he held out to Von Haefton. I was lighting my cigarette as he took it and, raising his eyebrows, Von Haefton jerked his head in my direction. Reinhard shook his head in reply and then turned me.

“Werner is adjutant to Colonel von Stauffenberg, Chief of Staff of the Reserve Army. They are on their way to Raustenberg to report to the Fuhrer. What time do you take off Werner?"

Von Haefton looked at his watch. “Seven, but I am meeting Claus at six, so I must hurry.” He weighed the briefcase in his hand. “Is everything there?”

“Jawohl.” Reinhard replied. “I checked it myself. Will this be the one?”

“Nein,” Von Haefton said, looking at me sideways. ”Von Stauffenberg has his own briefcase, this is a standby.” They shook hands and, putting his bare arm around Von Haefton’s shoulders, Reinhard walked him to the door. “What time shall I hear from you?” Again Von Haefton threw me a look before replying. “The conference starts at one, our man will contact you immediately to confirm safe delivery. We will return to Berlin as quickly as we can.”

Through the bedroom door, I saw them embrace before Von Haefton left and Reinhard stand silent for a few moments. Then he came back to me and threw himself on the bed, laughing and kicking his feet in the air. “Oh liebchen! If only I could tell you.”

I stubbed my cigarette out angrily. “Well let me tell you! That was so embarrassing. Whatever did he think of me?” I swept my hand to encompass myself and the state of the bedroom. Reinhard just laughed again, ripped the bed cover off me, and started kissing me. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Werner is a gentleman and knows me too well. What is important is that today could be the start of a whole new Germany. I cannot tell you anything more but believe me. You will remember this day!”

With that, he got off the bed, dragging me with him and then spun me round so that he was behind me. His arms encircled me, stroking my breasts, my stomach and my genitals and I felt his erect penis pushing up between the backs of my legs. I moaned as my own began to harden and he pushed me forward onto the bed and roughly penetrated my sphincter. I didn’t protest. I wanted him as much as he did me. Our coupling was too frantic to be prolonged. After a minute or two of pounding in and out my rectum, he ejaculated and I felt his sperm hosing the inside of me. At that moment, I happened to look at the blood red letters of the date on his bedside calendar clock. They read: JULY 20 1944.



To continue this story, click Hungarian Rhapsody



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