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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 31 - Old Photographs Never Lie

September 1952

Solitaire screamed and then sobbed and Miss Spiteful again struggled with her restraints as two of the guards advanced on me. Sapphire leaned her swollen and bloodied face towards me and whispered. “Don’t hold back, Storm. Scream if it helps. There’s no need to be brave. This will not last much longer.”       

A male guard released my handcuffs while the female pulled me to my feet.

“Strip it and put it in the frame!” Seraph ordered but I pushed the hands off me and undressed myself, kicking off my shoes and peeling off my filthy uniform, underwear and tattered stockings. When I was naked I walked to the frame unaided and stood with my legs apart and my arms held out, waiting for my wrists and ankles to be shackled. Kelly had died for us and my friends would have taken my place to prevent this happening to me. I was determined to endure this with dignity.

Seraph’s eyes flashed anger with anger. “So we have a martyr.”

She flicked her whip against the SS brand above my penis. “If you are now a Dominatrix, why do you still carry the brand of a slave?”

“I wear it with pride,” I replied. “It is a mark of honour to the Mistress that I served.”

Miss Spiteful’s face was a mask and her lips tightly pursed as the fetters were attached to my limbs and then tightened so that my body was spread-eagled within the frame with only the tips of my toes touching the floor. Solitaire was crying silently, the tears rolling down her grubby cheeks, while Stiletto was looking anxiously at Sapphire who seemed to have slipped back into unconsciousness.

Seraph laughed and began lashing me across the buttocks with her whip. I screamed as the hot fires of pain racked my body and I slammed forward against the chains that secured my limbs to the frame. Seraph was cackling madly as she continued to apply the whip and the pain from the individual strokes blended into one endless roll of agony. I did not notice when Seraph stopped but I heard her voice in my ear.

“Always start with six of the best, isn’t that right Spiteful?” Seraph mocked. “But, I think that I lost count there. Perhaps I didn’t do enough.”

Purple lights flashed in my eyes as she began raining blows on my buttocks again. I screamed and writhed until the assault ceased and then hung limply by my wrists. Tears dripped from my face onto my startlingly white breasts, with their stiff nipples, rising and falling as my chest heaved. Further down, my erect penis stuck out from my shaven groin like a flagpole.

“I see that you are ready for me now,” Seraph took my shaft in her hand and peeled back the taut foreskin. Moments later, little clips, with wires attached, bit into my nipples, my glans and my scrotum. I gasped and braced myself for what I knew was coming but, even so, the first shock of electricity passing through my body took my breath away. My eyes felt as if they were going to pop out of their sockets, my back arched and I tried to tear my wrists and ankles free from the metal cuffs around them.                                   

Seraph varied the power of the electric current, allowing me to relax slightly when she lowered it and then sending me into another paroxysm of pain when she turned it full on. When she switched it off, I collapsed again. My senses were swamped with pain from my buttocks, my arms, my legs, my nipples and my penis. I could smell burnt flesh and knew that it was mine. My throat was sore from screaming but I found my voice again when Seraph returned to using her whip on my bottom. At that point I fainted.

More electric shocks revived me to hear shouting between Miss Spiteful, who was demanding that my torture cease, and Seraph, who wanted to know where we had hidden the gold.

“Ah, the sleeper awakes!” I flinched as Seraph ripped the clips off my body but this time I was too exhausted to scream. She grasped my singed and torn penis and dug her nails into my shaft. “I see that you are called Frau McNair on your passport, which means that you have a male lover. I now intend to make it impossible for him ever to use you as his wife again.”

“Oberst Hoeller!” Miss Spiteful called out. “Stop her!”

I looked at the Stasi Colonel, who was frowning, but he did nothing as Seraph strapped a harness around her waist and between her legs. A huge black dildo, with metal studs on the shaft, now stuck out from the rubber pad covering her vaginal mound. She reached behind me, wiped her hand across my bottom and brought it back up, covered in blood, to my face.

“Say goodbye to your arsehole,” she sneered. “I’m just going to bore you a new one.”

She stepped behind me, grasped my hips and manoeuvred so that the tip of the dildo was in the crack between the cheeks of my bottom. Having been brutalised before, I gritted my teeth but I had never experienced such pain as then when my sphincter was forced open and my colon was stretched and torn. Seraph pushed harder until I was thoroughly impaled on her vicious phallus and she began to move it back and forwards inside me. I screamed and screamed. Blood ran down my arms from where I had rubbed my wrists raw as I struggled against my shackles and still the pain went on. I felt as if my whole body was on fire and, for the first time, wished that I could die so that the ordeal would end.               

Seraph’s hands slipped on my bloody buttocks and she paused, withdrawing roughly so that she could readjust her stance. I took the opportunity to look round at my friends. Miss Spiteful’s face was set and grim, her eyes fixed on Seraph, Stiletto had gone even paler than usual and Solitaire had her head down as she sobbed uncontrollably. Then my eyes met Sapphire’s. One of them was almost closed by the purple swelling that covered half of her face but she seemed desperate to catch my attention. Through bruised and bloodied lips she called out to me.

“Storm! Listen to me. You can make it end. Say the Word. You have to say the Word!”

The Word? At first I thought she was telling me to disclose where Sugar had taken the Gold and then I realised that what she meant. As Seraph tried to penetrate me again, I lifted my head and screamed the name of our ancient Goddess.

Seraph stopped, her studded dildo half in and half out of my rectum. She laughed in my ear when she recognised my call for assistance.

“That nonsense will do you no good. Your superstitions are useless here. Now hold still, this is going to hurt, I hope.”

She thrust forward with her hips and I felt as if my lower body had been cut in two. In my agony it was a moment or two before I was aware that the telephone on Hoeller’s desk was ringing. Seraph stopped pumping as the Colonel snapped into the mouthpiece. “Hoeller!”

His brow furrowed as he listened. Then he held the telephone away from his face and looked at it in disbelief.

“Who is this?” he demanded. “How did you get this number?” He listened again. “Yes, there is a speaker on this instrument, but why should I? Oh, very well!”

He stabbed at a button on the telephone base and a deep, soft and melodic female voice issued from a little box next on the top of the desk.

“Sugar!” I called out and her disembodied voice replied. “Storm? Is that you? Are you all OK?”

Ja,” I croaked. “Things have got a little rough here but we are still alive. Kelly’s dead though.”

Seraph stepped back and I let out a long blood curdling shriek as the studs on her dildo tore at my inner flesh.

“What the hell are you bastards doing to her?” Sugar demanded. Seraph strode towards the desk reaching out for the telephone but Hoeller slapped her hand away as he snarled, “What was that you were saying about Walter Ulbricht?”

“Miss Spiteful will answer that for you,” Sugar told him.

“This is another of their tricks!” Seraph was almost hysterical as she tried to put her hand on the telephone cradle to end the call. “Do not listen to them. That lying Schwarzer is as bad as Spiteful!”

Stille!” Hoeller shouted back at her. “I am in command here.” Seraph clenched her fists and turned away to sulk as Hoeller flapped his hand at Miss Spiteful to begin speaking.

“There are some photographs in my handbag…”

“There you are! Lies already!” Seraph interrupted. “We searched all your bags and your bodies. There cannot be any photographs.”

“There is a false bottom to my handbag,” Miss Spiteful continued.

Hoeller gestured to the female guard who sorted through the bags on the table, picked one up and was about to tear it apart when Miss Spiteful shouted at her.

Halte! Dumpkopf! That handbag came from Milan and cost more than you earn in a year. There are concealed press studs. Just insert your fingernail and it will snap apart.”

The guard stared at her blankly, understood what was required but still managed to tear the bottom off the handbag, making Miss Spiteful wince. A number of small photographs fell onto the table which the guard collected and handed over to Hoeller.

 He looked at the top one, took another closer look and quickly turned to the second one. As he shuffled through the rest, his bearded jaw dropped and his eyes bulged.

“The first two were taken in Nineteen Thirty Three, not long after I came to Berlin,” Miss Spiteful informed him. “Walter is a great admirer of Marlene Dietrich. He insisted on taking me to see the ‘Blue Angel’ and then paid for the same outfit as hers for me to wear. I made him wear the uniform while he worshipped at my feet and then I punished him afterwards for indulging his fantasies at the Party’s expense. I also kept the receipts for the clothes. The other photographs are from Nineteen Thirty Seven when we met up in Paris. The blonde wig with pigtails obscures his face in some of them but there are a couple where he raises his head from my bosom for air and his profile is recognisable.”

Hoeller was too stunned to prevent Seraph taking the photographs from him and I peered over her shoulder as she flicked through them. I saw Miss Spiteful sitting on a table with one stockinged knee drawn up to her chest and her other leg extended to the floor. She wore tight silk pants, a sleeveless top open to the waist and a top hat perched cheekily on the back of her head. Despite a hairstyle that she would have rather forgotten, her wide smile had not changed. A man in a Nazi Brown Shirt uniform, with a Swastika armband, knelt on the floor and was kissing her foot. Even after twenty years, he too was unmistakable. I knew his face, every German knew his face. If Nazi Germany had had a most wanted list like the FBI, that face would have been there with those of Stalin, Beria, Churchill, Roosevelt and Von Paulus. It was Walter Ulbricht. Exiled from Germany before the war as a Communist; he had been installed by Moscow to run their occupied zone. Now he was General Secretary of the East German Communist Part and de facto ruler of the German Democratic Republic. The following photograph only showed the back of his head as he bent over the table to have his bottom beaten with a cane by Miss Spiteful. She was wielding a whip in the next picture but was more conventionally coiffured and dressed in a leather skirt, top and boots as she punished a man wearing a little girl’s frock and the aforementioned pigtailed blonde wig which obscured his features. The next pose had him worshipping her feet and after that there was one with his face pressed against her chest but, in the last two, the camera had caught Walter Ulbricht’s face side on.

Seraph angrily tossed the photographs onto Hoeller’s desk.

“These must be fakes but even if they are not, what does it matter?” She hissed.

“No,” Sugar’s voice came from the speaker. “They are as real as your enormous thighs. I take it you still have them. Anyway Seraph, why am I not surprised to hear your voice? We were wondering if you were mixed up in this business.”

Seraph’s snarl was silenced by a look from Colonel Hoeller as Sugar continued.

“I have arranged for copies of the photographs to be delivered to the Berlin Correspondents of every major European and American Newspaper. A further set will go to Walter Ulbricht’s office with a note reporting that you had the chance to prevent publication but did not do so.”

Hoeller’s face drained of blood as he considered the consequences and Seraph made one last effort to keep him from surrendering.

“Nein! Nein! Do not let them go! We still hold them and I can break them. They must die here!”                 

Hoeller ignored her pounding on his desk and wearily conceded.

“Very well. What do you want me to do?”

I could imagine the wide grin on Sugar’s face as she gave Hoeller the instructions for our release.

“I will trade you all of the gold and cash in exchange for my friends being freed without further harm. Be at the Oberbaum Brucke crossing in one hour’s time. We’ll meet in the middle of the bridge and do the handover there. If anything goes wrong or we are bothered again by the GDR, the photographs will be delivered. Do you understand me?”

Hoeller looked at his watch, bared his teeth as he muttered, “Scheisse!” and agreed to Sugar’s terms.

“Give my regards to Otto!” Miss Spiteful called as Seraph gathered up her uniform and stamped out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Hoeller put his head in his hands as he looked down the photographs and ordered, “Release them.”

My relief was tempered by my sadness that Kelly was not alive to share our triumph and did not notice that the female guard had unshackled my wrists first. With my feet still suspended I could not prevent myself falling forward. I saw the stone floor coming up to meet my face and, just before the pain and oblivion, I heard Solitaire scream.


To continue this story, click A Fair Exchange For Freedom



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