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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 28 - The Festival Is Over

September 1952

Kelly whistled and Miss Spiteful passed the bar around for us all to hold while she plunged her hands back into the sand. Having gone in up to her elbows she announced that there were three more bars hidden beneath the surface. Then she tugged the bar away from Solitaire, who was clutching it to her breast, pressed it back into the sand, closed and fastened the lid of the box and stood up, brushing loose grains of sand off her hands.

"Right, now we must get a move on. It will take two of us to carry each box to the exit. Stiletto and Solitaire can go first.  Sapphire and I will take the next one and so on. That's if Storm and Kelly feel up to getting the rest of the boxes out?"

Kelly looked at me and shrugged, "Once a slave, always a slave." She picked up another coil of rope, handed the loose end to me, and slithered, head first, beneath the tombstone, whistling Verdi's 'Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves.'

"Your thoughts will not need golden wings," Miss Spiteful called after her. "They will be propelled by the toe of my shoe!"

By this time, Stiletto and Solitaire had worked out that the best way to carry the heavy metal box between them was to slip the crowbar under the handle on top. But, having lifted it, they found that the weight forced their high heels into the soft ground and they were unable to move their feet.

"Gott in himmell!" Miss Spiteful roared at them. "Step out of those stupid shoes and go in your stockinged feet."

Solitaire stuck her tongue out when Miss Spiteful's back was turned away but she and Stiletto obeyed and were soon staggering shoeless across the grass with their valuable burden.

At that moment, Kelly tugged on the rope that I was holding and I began hauling the next ammunition box out. When it reached the lip of earth at the head of the coffin, I untied the rope and Miss Spiteful and Sapphire helped lift it out. They then used the handle of a sledge-hammer as a carrying yoke for their trip to the exit with the ammunition box.

I tossed the rope back into the darkness and called to Kelly, “Do five more and then I’ll finish off.”

Once we got a rhythm going, we moved quite quickly and it was soon time for me to swap places with Kelly and plunge into the gap. The Mistresses were also managing to keep up with us and there only ever one box at a time waiting for them to take away.

The last four boxes were right at the far end of the tomb and I had to stretch out and grope for the handle on the first one so that I could knot the rope around it. To my surprise the box moved easily when I pulled at the rusty handle.  I gave the other three a push each and they too all shifted from their position.

“Kelly!” I shouted back to the gap. “These must be the ones with the banknotes!”

It took only a few minutes for us to get the remaining boxes out as I was able to drag them, two at a time, to the lip of the grave.

Once all four were out in the open air, I crawled out myself to find that Kelly had lifted one on to the top the granite slab. Miss Spiteful opened the lid, while everyone watched over her shoulders, and lifted out a wad of white bank notes with a paper band around them.

“English five pound notes,” she muttered and riffled the end of the wad before tossing it back into the box. She did not seem as excited by the new discovery as we were.

“That’s the lot then. One box each, ladies.” She looked at her watch. “That’s good timing. It’s almost ten. Sugar will be here to load up any minute now. Storm and Kelly can get their breaths back and then join us at the gate. They deserve a rest”

Kelly picked up her handbag and slipped the strap over her shoulder before extracting her cigarettes and lighter. We sat on the tombstone, smoking in silence and listening to festival finale over the nearby loudspeakers.

The last performer was a female with a beautiful clear voice who, if she was the overall winner, certainly deserved her victory. Her song also brought back memories for me.  It was a Russian folk song called Stenka Rasin. A decade or so later, an Australian group put their own words to the tune and had a hit with ‘The Carnival is over’ but I had first heard the original version from Russian Prisoners of War on the Eastern Front.  The sound of those thousands of men behind barbed wire, many of whom would never see their homes again, and singing without any accompaniment had been very moving.

The song ended as Kelly and I tossed our cigarettes away and stood up. There was tumultuous applause and I almost joined in.

Kelly patted the top of the granite slab before we walked away. “I’ve gone down on a few men in my time but that’s the first dead one that I’ve been on top of.”

We laughed as we strolled through the shrubbery and then jumped and ducked as there was a thump behind us, a whistle and a bang overhead and the sky turned a sparkling bright red. The fireworks had commenced.

Kelly grabbed my arm and we hurried to the exit, as multicoloured chrysanthemums exploded above us, casting strange shadows across the cemetery. Between the bangs, we could hear the collective “Ooohs!” and “Aaahs” of the watching crowd and hoped that everyone was stopping to watch the display. We did not need thousands of people using the path as we were trying to load the gold onto the truck.

The corrugated iron barricade had been pulled back again and the others were standing by the line of boxes, nervously glancing at their watches and then up and down the path. As we joined them there was a flash of headlights from the Hospital entrance end and the low roar of a motor vehicle approaching. Tyres crunched on gravel and an American military truck pulled up alongside us.

Sugar, dressed in her US Army uniform with the letters MP on her armband, gave us a reproachful look from the driving cab.

“I thought that you were never going to be here! This is my third time around. Get a move on, for God’s sake!”

Kelly swiftly lowered the tailboard and climbed into the back of the truck so that she could stow the boxes as we lifted them up to her. It took only a few moments to complete the task. She jumped down the ground, secured the tailboard again and gave Sugar a thumbs up sign.

“Straight back to the workshop, Sugar.” Miss Spiteful put her hand on Sugar’s arm. “Do not take the scenic route via Brazil!”

Another exploding rocket illuminated Sugar’s face beneath her white helmet and her eyes twinkled.

“Yes, Mamma Spiteful! Your little Sugar hears and obeys. Obrigado! Adeus!"

She slammed the gear stick forward, gunned the engine and the truck shot forward in the direction of Landsberger Allee. There was a squeal of tyres as her tail lights turned to the right and she was gone.

We all heaved a collective sigh of relief and Miss Spiteful looked at her watch.

“Still a few minutes to spare, if the fireworks don’t finish early. Let’s fetch our handbags and get back to West Berlin.”

Kelly rattled the car keys at her. “I’ve got mine here. I’ll turn the car around and wait for you.”

As she strolled across to our limousine the rest of us hurried back to the clearing to collect our handbags off the top of the tomb and for Stiletto and Solitaire to recover their shoes..

“What about the mess and the bodies?” Solitaire asked.

“Leave them!” Miss Spiteful said curtly. “It doesn’t matter if this is discovered now and they will all get a decent burial.”

As they started to leave, I hung back and Miss Spiteful looked at me. “What’s the matter with you? You’re hopping around like a flea on a hot plate.”

“I need a pipi!” I confessed. “I was waiting for you all to go on ahead.”

“Why wait?” Miss Spiteful laughed. “We are all girls together. In fact, I could do with one too.”

She lifted her skirt, eased her knickers down and then squatted on the grass.

We all followed suit and joined her in her Sitzpinkler. No one spoke as we tinkled and splashed onto the grass, with the usual copious flood from Solitaire, after which tissues were passed around to pat our delicate parts dry and knickers were readjusted.

“The last time that we all did that together was on top of Von Kreps,” Miss Spiteful observed. “Now we’ve got the gold that he was trying to steal. I was just visualising him sweating to pump those jacks and raise that headstone upright on his own. Where ever he is now, he must be really pissed off!”

We all laughed as we came to the exit in the hedge and then stopped to look upwards. A final thunderous burst of pyrotechnics flung rainbows of stars across the night sky preceded a sudden silence.

At that moment we heard a car engine start and could see the rear lights of our limousine come on through the gap in the hospital fence opposite. To our horror, the car drove away at high speed

We waved, shouted and ran across the path to the fence and then stopped, realising how futile our efforts were but still angry and bewildered by Kelly’s desertion. To our right we could see the tail lights bumping across the grass towards the street lights of Landsberger Allee, ploughing through bushes and flower beds and squeezing between the two stone pillars of a pedestrian entrance. Kelly crossed the pavement, dropped heavily at the kerb and then drove off to the west at what must have been over one hundred kilometres an hour.

Then, headlights came on from both ends of the path, blinding us with their glare. I put my hands up to shield my eyes and, although still dazzled, saw blurred silhouettes surrounding us. I was able to make out that they were men in uniform and that they were pointing guns at us.

One man approached us and, when he clicked his fingers, the headlights were dimmed. After the white glare faded in our eyes, I recognised him as the bearded and ferret faced individual in a leather jacket from the checkpoint.

“Guten arben, meine Damen.” He continued to address us in German. “I am afraid that your transport has left without you. We will catch up with it but, in the meantime, please accept a lift in one of my vehicles. Unfortunately for you, it is going in the opposite direction to the one that you want.”

He clicked his fingers again and the uniformed men closed in, forcing us back into a tight little circle.

“I am Oberst Hoeller of the Stasi,” he announced, “and you are all under arrest!” 


To continue this story, click The Stasi At Night


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