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The Dominafuhrer
Miss Spiteful's War

The New Recruit

The Dominafuhrer 1952
Miss Spiteful's Gold

Give My Regards To Bremen
Storm Takes A Bow
Two Long Winters
Bonnie Ingrid Of The Argylls
A Soldier's Wife For Me
What Became Of The Lively Ladies?
Walter's Warning
Castanelli Meets The Order
Kelly From Calgary
Three On The Bed
Solace For Solitaire
The Early Morning Tease Maid
The Chevvy With The Fritz On Top
J Edgar Hoovering
Signals From The Past
Gold In The Grave
Morning In Manhattan
Six Hatch A Plan
Back To Berlin
Two Little Girls From School Are We
Spoiling Miss Spiteful
The Taming Of The Slave
Kaffee At KaDeWe
Sugar's Stroll In The Park
The Checkpoint Chorus
The GDR People's Silvery Moon
Into The Tomb
The Festival Is Over
The Stasi At Night
Seraph Revealed
Old Photographs Never Lie
A Fair Exchange For Freedom
The Night Porter
Kelly's Heroines
Surgery En Suite
A Stiffie For Sapphire
The Torturous Twins
A Stilletto Up The Back
News From The East
We're Going To Wedding
Rudi's Revels
Down In The Dungeon
Nappies, Knots and Needles
Walkies With Alfred
Black Marcius For Miss Spiteful
The Return Of The Dominant 7
Grab Your Knickers And Run
Vive La France
Showdown With Seraph

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 GOLD

Episode 4 - Bonnie Ingrid of the Argylls

1947 - 1952

When I made David undress in the dungeon, he insisted that he did not lose sight of his gun as I put the chains on him. I tied up his testicles with rope, binding his swollen penis tight and scratching the underside with my nails. I then attached crocodile clips to his penis and his nipples and gave him a series of electric shocks that set him roaring and twisting with the pain. My fingernails raking his back and black haired chest made him demand more and I gave him six strokes of the cane. After releasing the bonds on his sexual organs, I gave him a free hand job as a bonus before unchaining him and he ejaculated copiously. I felt very strange and coy as he dressed, thanked me profusely, paid and then let himself out. I was sitting in the dungeon, smoking a cigarette and deep in thought when Sugar looked in on the way down to open up the café.

“How was your Englishman?”

“He was Scots,” I replied. “They are very particular about that, and he was very handsome.” I had no idea why I added that.

Two weeks later he was back again and asked for me.

As the summer went on, he came to visit whenever he could get leave from his base in the Rhineland. We explored other forms of torture and I went through my range of outfits and uniforms, which pleased David although his reactions during our sessions varied between remorse and high sexual excitement. We started talking afterwards and one day he asked me to join him for dinner at his hotel that evening.

“Be careful, Honey.” Sugar advised. “The boy is besotted with you and you’re frightened but attracted. What happens when he finds out?”

I wanted to fall in love again but, having lost two men and been badly used by others, I didn’t want more heartbreak. I had deliberately not considered what David’s reaction would be when he discovered my real gender.

I went ahead with the date and had a wonderful evening. He told me about Scotland and his army life and I gave him the version of Ingrid Schaeffer’s story that I wanted him to know. I let him kiss me at the café doorway and cried myself to sleep afterwards because I loved him so much and I was afraid.

More dinner dates followed, we went to the cinema together and had a wonderful day out in the Rhododendron Park.

One Sunday afternoon, he asked me to take a walk with him along the Schlachte Promenade. As we sat on a bench in the warm summer sunshine, he told me that his battalion, the Second, was going back to England and would eventually be merging with the Regiment’s First battalion. He then, very nervously, asked me to marry him. This was the moment that I had dreaded. With tears rolling down my cheeks, I told him the truth about my gender, thanked him for asking me and making me very happy but it was really impossible.

David looked stunned and then burst out laughing before throwing his arms around me. He told me that I had completely fooled him and that all of his life he had dreamed of meeting someone such as me. The remorse and guilt that driven him to seek my professional services were because he found heterosexual and homosexual affairs so unsatisfactory. He had tried both but neither had fulfilled his needs. He admitted that he had been hesitant in proposing to me because he believed that I was a real female. He did not want to hurt me if our marriage had failed due his inability to be compatible with women. He did not regard himself as a homosexual just because he yearned for companionship with a man with a female lifestyle. He had found me attractive without knowing my true gender but now that he knew the truth he wanted me more than ever.

It was my turn to be dumfounded but, as I fumbled for a cigarette, my heart was beating wildly. What could I say or do? A Glockenspiel played in the distance as I told David the cover story that Sugar and I had devised about how I had come to adopt the female role.

Ingrid, I informed him, had been my twin sister and I had taken her identity when she had been killed in an air raid. We had both been previously imprisoned and tortured by the Nazis because of our family’s political activities. As Ingrid, I had been arrested again but not before a friendly Doctor had supplied me with hormones to grow breasts. I had thus, with the complicity of other inmates, been able to conceal my true gender while in prison. I had always had an interest in cross-dressing and domination, which my sister had encouraged and, when I had been released at the end of the war, I felt so comfortable in the female lifestyle that I had no wish to revert to being a male.

David had held my hand as I spoke and now he squeezed it tight, his eyes glistening with tears also.

“Does that mean that you have a birth certificate with Ingrid Schaeffer’s name on it?”

I nodded. It was one of the genuine documents in the pack that Miss Spiteful had given me.

He let out a cry of triumph, startling the other promenaders. “Good! Then we can get married.”

We went back to the café and told Sugar who called us both stupid idiots but David was unrepentant and insisted that any problems could be sorted out. He had a solution to every objection that she raised and eventually she sighed, lit a cigarette and stared off in the distance for a moment before glaring at David. “If you are lying to me and hurt Ingrid in any way, I will castrate you and then kill you. That is my promise.”

She turned to me. “Are you so starry eyed that you cannot see what madness this is?”

I hung my head but my mouth was set with grim determination.

“Oh, very well!” She threw her hands up in the air. “What happens next?”

David explained that he would have to request permission from the Army to marry and that, as I was a German citizen, my background would have to be investigated. He was also unsure what would happen when the two battalions of his regiment amalgamated and whether he would still have a place, be moved to another regiment or be discharged as surplus. He intended to wait until that had been settled before we went through with the wedding.

“That’s all about you David,” Sugar said. “But what about Ingrid? You’re expecting her to move into a closed community of other army wives. If she is discovered, do you want to put her through all that shame and humiliation? Ingrid has only lived with people like myself who know what she is and make allowances for her. Why don’t you both wait until next year? Your career will be settled by then and we can both teach Ingrid what is expected of her.”

It was David’s turn to hang his head but he had to agree and my education began all over again. This time it was not how to pass as a woman but how to live as one.

Sugar said that the most important thing was for me to think of the consequences before I did anything. The male attitudes and gestures that she had tolerated before now earned me a slap or, when we argued and I lost my temper, a beating with her cane. Sugar was unrelenting and did not make it easy for me but I found that I was looking at myself more and considering whether my actions were what a woman would do or say.

David, before he left for England, gave me a lesson on the history and traditions of his regiment, regimental life and the importance of the Scottish identity. I was bewildered but persevered.

He came back to Bremen whenever he got enough leave and, with Sugar’s permission, we shared a bed.

I undressed for him, trembling with fear and anticipation, as David sat naked on a chair. He knelt at my feet and pressed his face into my groin, just as Reinhard had done and I burst into tears. He stood up, hugged me and carried me in his arms to the bed. We kissed and stroked each other’s bodies before his lubricated penis was pushed gently between my buttocks and he slowly thrust backwards and forwards with his hips. Pleasure built up inside my body until I felt that heart was going to burst and my arms, legs, breasts and genitals were tingling as if charged with electricity. He ejaculated and my body went rigid as I tried to preserve that wonderful feeling of fulfilment as my lover’s seed splashed inside me. We have made love many times since but I will never forget David’s passion and tenderness that night.

Early in the New Year, David was able to report that he had been assured of a place in the new battalion and that he had put in his request to the Army for permission to marry. A few weeks later I was summoned to an interview at the British Control Commission Headquarters and I took along all my documents. A British Army Officer, a Civilian Official and a German Policeman questioned me. Ingrid Schaeffer’s records had been unearthed, including her final arrest in 1943, when she had disappeared into the prison system. My answers matched everything that they had on the file in front of them, which bore my photographs, but I was still amazed at the work that had gone into the false identity that Miss Spiteful had provided. Surprisingly, there were few queries about my current occupation, which I listed as cafe owner. A Policeman did come round to interview Sugar and went away satisfied.

David wrote to say that permission to marry had been granted and I obtained a marriage license from the Bremen civil authorities for the 19th of June 1948.

On that morning, I was laying out what passed for my best clothes on the bed and wishing that I had something better to wear. Europe, however, was still in the grip of rationing and even the future Queen of England had had to have extra clothing coupons voted for her in Parliament.

“Here you are Honey.” Sugar came through my bedroom door with some parcels, which she handed to me. “Thank goodness that I have a slave in the Customs Office otherwise I would never have got these through.”

Full of wonderment, I started to open them. The first carried a Swiss stamp and contained a pair of sapphire earrings. The second, from Argentina, had a diamond brooch in the shape of a stiletto while the third had a solitaire diamond pendant. Still overwhelmed, I unwrapped the largest parcel, airmailed from New York and found a box from a famous Fifth Avenue clothes shop. Delving into the tissue paper, I lifted out a beautiful, white, calf length dress with an embroidered bodice that fitted me perfectly. Matching white shoes followed and, in the bottom, were packets of nylons and a set of white silk underwear.

“But how did they know?” I asked, my eyes brimming with tears and my voice husky. “There are no notes and none of them have been in touch.”

Sugar smiled. “They keep in contact with me and want to know how you are getting on. Remember, you are supposed to be making your own way in life. But, if they are needed, they will always be there for one of us.”

To continue this story, click A Soldier's Wife For Me



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