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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 13 - The Colonel and The Nurse

October 1943

With all the doors closed, the only lights in the dungeon were two spots shining directly down on the prisoners’ heads as they hung, chained by the wrists of their outstretched arms. Their feet were on the floor but firmly shackled by their ankles to ringbolts set wide apart. They resembled four pointed stars and were restricted to no more than a slight twist of their bodies, although they could move their heads. They were about six feet apart, with the girl in front of and at right angles to the man so that he could see all that happened to her. On a table nearby was a selection of whips, clubs, pincers, body probes, clamps and rubber gloves, only some of which we would use. The rest were there for the prisoners to see and be intimidated by.

Our heels clicking on the floor alerted the prisoners to our approach because their heads turned to look at us. What they made of the apparitions, one half-red and half-naked and the other in white, that came out of the darkness, I can only wonder. We walked over to the table, selected a whip each and, while I turned back to the female, Miss Spiteful went to stand behind the man.

Miss Spiteful began every interrogation with six strokes of the whip or cane and immediately lashed the Colonel across the buttocks, forcing a cry of pain from him. A second later, my whip struck the girl’s bottom causing her to jump forward against her chains. A strange gurgle came from her mouth, which was filled with a black rubber ball, secured by a chain around her head. By the time that Miss Spiteful and I had completed our initial assault, the girl had collapsed and was hanging limply from her wrist chains. Across her bottom, I could see six thin cuts slowly turning bright red. Miss Spiteful insisted that every effort be put into these first strokes. The shock, the violence and the incredible pain, destabilised the prisoners, made them fully aware of the helplessness of their situation and established the interrogator’s domination.

Miss Spiteful stood in front of the Colonel, legs wide apart and hands on her hips, the vivid red of her gloves, suspender belt boots standing out in the spotlight against the milk white of her skin. “Debre utro, Ilya Mikhailovich. I am Miss Spiteful and you may have heard of me. That is the last Russian that we will be using today as I know that you speak German. If I hear any more Russian from you, I will punish you and my lovely assistant, Ingrid will do the same to Anya. In fact, everything I do to you, Ingrid will do to Anya and, perhaps, a little bit more. Now, you know why you are here, you can save me a lot of time and effort and Anya and yourself a lot of pain if you tell us what we want to know.”

“Yop tayoo mat!” The Colonel spat at Miss Spiteful.

“Ingrid?” Miss Spiteful turned to me and I translated for her.

“Really?” Miss Spiteful struck him three times with her whip, which I repeated on the Girl’s bottom, causing her to twitch and twist in her chains.

“One stroke was for speaking in Russian, the second was for spitting at me and the third was for insulting my Mother. Unlike yours, she has never mated with an ape to produce an animal like you.”

I looked at him. He was hairy! Although his head was close cropped, his chest, stomach, legs and arms were covered in a thick, dark brown hair. He raised his chin defiantly but kept silent.

I stepped round to look at the Girl for the first time. She was shorter than I was and stocky in build, with wide hips and thighs. Her breasts were large and pendulous and wide brown rings surrounded her nipples. Black shaggy bushes hung from her armpits and between the tops of her legs and her olive skinned shoulders were touched by the ends of her long black hair. She had a Mongolian face with a flat nose, high cheek-bones, wide lips forced open by the black rubber ball of her gag and two beautiful, black, almond shaped eyes. Over the left eye was a big purple bruise and two steaks of dried blood ran down the side of her face from her hairline. She was quivering with pain, shock and fear and her eyes were wet with tears.

Miss Spiteful was still giving the Colonel a good look at her half naked body, including her tattooed shoulder, breasts and pubic hair and, from where I stood, I could see his penis swelling up from it’s hairy base. Miss Spiteful reached out to take it in one of her red leather gloved hands and was soon rewarded with a big, thick erection.

“That’s better, Colonel Suvlov. I was beginning to think you were homosexual. You do like women, don’t you? You have a wife and you have little Anya, over there. Now you have Ingrid and me. Miss Spiteful extended her other arm and deliberately dropped her whip. “Ingrid, would you pick that up for me?” Knowing what was required, I walked over, trying to sway my hips. I turned my back on the Colonel and, keeping my legs together, bent forward from the waist to lift the whip from the floor. The Russian got a view of the backs of my seamed stockinged legs, suspendered flesh and white knickered bottom as the tail of my short white tunic rose up. I wiggled my buttocks and then straightened up to hand the whip back to Miss Spiteful.

“Oh look, Ingrid!” She exclaimed. “He likes you too.” His penis was thick and twitching in her hands. “Why don’t you show him your gratitude?”

I knelt down on the floor between his legs and Miss Spiteful guided his erection into my open mouth. Looking up, I could see that the Russian’s face was set in a grimace as he tried to control himself but Miss Spiteful was speaking in his ear.

“Can you feel Ingrid’s glossy lipstick on your shaft and her warm, wet tongue on your glans? Is it as nice as putting it in Anya’s vagina?” That was my cue to start licking and sucking and moving my head backwards and forwards. His penis was now throbbing and he was trying to move his hips to pull out of my mouth but I gently gripped his member with his teeth.

“Does Anya do this for you? Does she make you moan when you are making love? Do her heels bounce up and down on your spine when she gets excited? Does she scratch your back like this?” Obviously I couldn’t see what Miss Spiteful was doing but I knew that she had a pad with vicious little spikes that she could slip over her hand for such occasions. Suddenly he screamed, his hips jerked forward and I felt his semen pumping up the channel on the underside of his penis. Then it was spurting into my mouth, thick, warm and salty on my tongue, in my cheeks and down my throat. I sucked and swallowed, squeezing his hairy testicles as he emptied his load into me. I was used to having to perform these duties as Miss Spiteful had made it plain at the outset that she did not indulge in sexual activity with her subjects. I did not mind and would do anything for her.

Suvlov groaned and then slumped in his chains as the pumping stopped and the last drops of liquid seeped from his shaft. I let his penis slip out of my mouth and stood up, licking my lips in front of his face. His eyes tried to avoid mine as the post-coital guilt set in.

“Did you enjoy that, Ilya?” Miss Spiteful asked. “Now, what can Ingrid do to Anya that she can enjoy as well?"

“Bliat!” Suvlov screamed, and then launched into a further stream of Russian oaths.

“Well, even I understood a few of those." Miss Spiteful said. “But they were in Russian, so you and Anya will have to be punished.” Miss Spiteful nodded to me but, as I picked up my whip, there were a series of loud but distant thuds, the floor shuddered and the spotlights flickered and swayed.

“Don’t be alarmed, Colonel.” Miss Spiteful laughed. “It’s only the British trying to kill us. But we are safe down here, except for a direct hit of course."

Although we did not know it, we were at the beginning of what later became known as the ‘Air Battle For Berlin’ as, the Tommies heavy bombers by night and their fast Mosquitoes by day, tried to destroy our capital city. They had already burnt out Cologne, Lubeck and my own home city of Hamburg, but now our Luftwaffe’s detection and defence systems were stronger. They were being made to pay dearly in downed aircraft for every bomb that they dropped. Round the clock bombing of Germany had, however brought our unit an unexpected bonus. We had run low on stocks of the wonderful nylons now that we were at war with America, although we could still get some occasional supplies through our embassies in Stockholm and Lisbon. But Miss Spiteful had uncovered a surprising source of replacements when the Afrika Korps won an unexpected victory over the Americans at Kasserine Pass in Tunisia. Amongst the personal possessions of many of the prisoners taken were packets of nylon stockings. Miss Spiteful was almost too late to get her hands on these before they were dispersed onto others’ legs. However, when the American bombing campaign of Europe started, she managed to get an instruction put out in Heinrich Himmler’s name ordering that all nylon stockings seized from downed American aircrew should be sent to us for ‘scientific analysis’. In view of the mirth it provoked across the Reich, we hoped that the Reichsfuhrer never found out, but we did benefit, as it seemed that every American going into battle carried a supply of condoms, chewing gum, cigarettes and nylons.

“Now, what were we doing?” Miss Spiteful mused and began thrashing Colonel Suvlov’s bottom with her whip. I did the same to Anya, who writhed and squealed every time that I struck her. Soon, the individual red patterns on her posterior began to merge into one big magenta bruise and the skin broke in some places, spotting my white tunic with drops of blood. Miss Spiteful continued to beat the colonel and I had to move the target for my whip down to the back of Anya’s thighs to find some undamaged skin.

At some point, she must have fainted because she stopped struggling and hung limp and silent from her chains. Miss Spiteful finally stopped her assault and stood in front of the Russian colonel. He was sobbing, tears running down his face and murmuring, “Nyet. Nyet. Nyet.”

“I’ll excuse those, Ilya.” Miss Spiteful; spoke almost kindly to him. “As I forgot myself and overdid that punishment. But I do enjoy my work.”

Indeed she did. She was grinning broadly, her face and body flushed and wet with perspiration. She beckoned to me and, as I approached, she tilted her head and we kissed. Our tongues explored each others’ moist mouths, the sweat tasting salty on our glossed lips. One of her gloved hands unbuttoned my tunic and felt my breasts, through the cups of my brassiere while the other stroked the bulge in my knickers. The whip, dangling from a strap on her wrist, banged between our legs as we moved together and I reached out to touch her body. It was all for Colonel Suvlov’s benefit but I intended to enjoy it. With my right hand I felt damp nipples and breast. The fingers of my left ran through the curls of her vulva gently touching the wet lips of her labia. Too soon, Miss Spiteful broke away, whispering an order to re-button the lower part of my tunic to hide my erection.

"I think Ilya must really like you, Ingrid", she joked pointing to his rising erection. "There's no need to salute Ingrid, she's only a First Lieutenant and a Colonel outranks her."

At that moment another stick of bombs fell nearby, the vibration sent some of our tools rolling off the table on to the floor and this time the lights dimmed for several seconds before brightening again. “I think we had better move on before we lose the electricity, Ingrid”. Miss Spiteful went over to Anya, who was shaking her head slowly, and grabbed her by the hair so that her face was pulled upwards. Her eyes were glazed and wet with tears which had run down her face. “Look at her, Ilya Mikhailovitch!” Miss Spiteful demanded. “She loves and trusts you and you have let this happen to her. Are you going to tell her that she must suffer because of the greater good of the Communist cause? But of course! The Communist dialectic has no regard for the individual. Marx and Lenin said the poor deserve to suffer. The peasants and workers supported the Bolsheviks because you promised them freedom from the Tsars oppression and to share out the land. What did they get? The NKVD and collectivism and if they didn’t like it they got a bullet in the neck. You call us inhuman? Josef Stalin has killed more Russians than Adolf Hitler!”

“Nyet”.

Suvlov shook his head and when Miss Spiteful raised her whip over Anya’s bottom switched to German “Nein, nein, I cannot”

Miss Spiteful released Anya’s hair letting her head fall forward. “I think Anya’s in need of a shock to wake her up.”


To continue this story, click Anya's Curse


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