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The Crossing - Part 20 free porn video
While the local Gestapo chief was stamping his authority on Castle
Rumstahl. I was getting closer to his mistress, the alluring Lexi.
THE CROSSING - part 20
by BobH
(c) 2016
- 46 -
Helmut's face was impassive as the servants removed his personal files
and effects from his study, replacing them with Grost's, but I knew him
well enough to see that inwardly he was fuming.
"Ah, Lexi, come in, come in, my love," said Grost as we appeared at the
door to the study.
She went over to him while I squeezed Helmut's hand. He glanced down at
me, no words needed between us.
"The paintings on the wall are of former Counts von Rumstahl," Grost
explained to Lexi, "men who are as much my ancestors as they are Helmut's
since we share a grandfather in Count Max von Rumstahl here."
He gestured to a painting of a man in military uniform with a large
'handlebar' moustache. It was obvious what Grost was doing, staking a
claim for the legitimacy of his presence in the castle through reference
to the past. Files aside, however, the most obvious change he'd made to
the room was in the placing of a large, flat-faced cactus standing in a
pot on the outer corner of the desk. I was surprised Grost had any
interest in plants, but if he was going to keep one it seemed somehow
appropriate that it should be a cactus.
"What's going on here?" said a voice behind us. It was Gerda.
This being a Friday, Gerda would usually have been in her office in the
castle catching up on paperwork, but she had been called out to deliver a
baby soon after we pledged our allegiance to the Nazi party. Hard to
believe that was only this morning. With all that had happened since then
it felt like days ago.
"In light of yesterday's attempt on the life of the Fuehrer, cousin
Albrecht is installing himself in the castle on the orders of Heinrich
Himmler," said Helmut, "and as you can see he's commandeered my study for
his office. This young lady is his, ah, companion Alexa Marceau, who will
be staying here with him."
She came over and offered Gerda her hand.
"Please," she said, "call me Lexi."
Gerda shook her hand somewhat uncertainly, and threw Helmut a questioning
look.
"I'm afraid it appears we'll be sharing an office from now on, dear
sister," he said. "You have a spare desk in there and your office has a
phone, so it's the best way of dealing with this situation at present."
Bruno Gruber chose that moment to put in an appearance.
"Hello Gerda," he said, smiling, "you've joined us in time to view the
interrogation area.
"The what?!" said Helmut, not liking the sound of this.
"I asked Bruno to set it up," said Grost. "It's common sense to make full
use of all that the castle has to offer, after all. Lead on, Bruno, we'll
all be right behind you."
As he led us out to the door that gave access to the cellar, I
experienced a sinking feeling in my stomach when it dawned on me what
this 'interrogation area' must be. Unfortunately I was right, as became
all too clear when we descended the steps.
With walls of heavier, more crudely cut stone than the upper levels and a
temperature a couple of degrees lower, the cellar had never been the most
inviting part of the castle. The dungeons had at least been humanised a
little by being turned over to wine storage, a humanisation Gruber had
reversed.
"I had your servants move all the wine into one dungeon so that the other
could be restored to its proper purpose," he said to Helmut, "as can
these."
He gestured to a table on which lay various pokers, tongs, knives, hooks,
and even a thumbscrew. Beside the table stood a brazier, unlit but
freshly filled with coals.
"You had these items in a display case," smiled Grost, "essentially
neutering them. Bruno will be returning them to their intended use."
"Fine tools," said Gruber, stroking one of the hooks appreciatively, "our
forefathers were artists when it came to interrogation. They were
Rembrandts of pain, and these were their brushes."
I shivered, and not because of the temperature.
"This is barbaric!" said Gerda. "I thought we'd progressed beyond such
things."
"We're charged with protecting the Reich using any means necessary," said
Grost, "and I won't let effete notions of what is and isn't 'barbaric'
deflect me from that sacred duty. If we have to employ the more, ah,
robust methods used to interrogate people in the past them employ them we
shall."
"What about you, Bruno?" said Helmut. "Is this just about 'protecting the
Reich' for you?"
Gruber smiled but said nothing.
"Are you expecting to put this...equipment...to use anytime soon, Ally?"
asked Lexi, wrinkling her nose at the prospect.
"Sooner than you might expect," said Grost, "but don't worry, liebchen.
The walls and door to the cellar are thick enough that we shouldn't
disturb the delicate feminine sensibilities of you ladies."
I didn't like the sound of this. Not that patronising nonsense about
'delicate feminine sensibilities', but that Gruber might be torturing
information out of someone pretty soon. Could it be me? It was a
terrifying thought, but neither he nor Grost had given any indication of
seeing through my disguise. Unless, that is, they were just lulling me
into a false sense of security. No, I would not let my mind lead me down
that path. That way madness lay. Until they revealed otherwise I had to
assume my secret was safe. Which still left a question. If not me then
who was it they had in their sights?
After we trooped back up the stairs Helmut, Gerda and I made our way to
her office while the others went off to supervise the transport of their
belongings up to the rooms they'd been assigned.
"This is intolerable!" said Gerda. "Can't we do something about them
being here, Helmut?"
"I don't think so," he replied. "I've seen the order from Himmler, and
given his recent brush with death I can't imagine Hitler countermanding
it."
"Cousin Albrecht and Bruno Gruber," said Gerda, shaking her head. "Then
there's this Lexi Marceau. What do you make of her?"
"You'd have to ask Eva. She spent an hour or so with her before you got
back."
"She seems pleasant enough," I said carefully, giving a small shrug, "if
a little brash and full of herself. She's better than Albrecht deserves,
that's for sure."
"A farmyard sow is better than Albrecht deserves," said Gerda.
"Do you know why she's with him?" asked Helmut.
"Protection, I think. I didn't get the impression she was in love with
him."
"Well it looks like we're going to have to put up with them until after
our wedding at the earliest," he sighed, "so you and I are going to have
to learn how to share an office without getting on each other's nerves,
dear sister."
"Since I only really use it on Fridays, I think we'll manage. But what
about dinner? What is dining with them going to be like?"
We got our answer that evening. As usual Gerda, Helmut, and I dressed for
dinner. The others were already in the dining room when we got there.
Gruber and Grost were in their uniforms of course, but these had
obviously been pressed and laundered recently and so were not the ones
they had worn earlier in the day. I was pleased to see that Lexi was
wearing a stylish, classy evening dress, though one that displayed the
cleavage she was so proud of, of course. They were all making an effort,
so that was something. Then again, Grost was sitting in what was usually
Gerda's seat at the opposite end of the table to Helmut's, with Lexi on
one side of him and Gruber on the other.
"Don't worry," whispered Gerda, squeezing my hand, "you sit next to Lexi
and I'll take the chair next to Gruber."
I was grateful for this, even though the table was long enough that we
wouldn't be sitting within touching distance of each other. I found
Gruber totally loathsome, his obvious interest in me deeply unsettling,
and the fact he usually let Grost speak for him a little unnerving. For
him the words he'd spoken in the cellar constituted an extensive speech.
As soon as we were all seated the staff started bringing out trays of
food. What with rationing and the ever-growing proportion of our crops we
were required to supply to the war effort, dinners had been getting
increasingly frugal and meat had almost vanished from our diet, which is
what made the platters of meat they brought out such a surprise. Grost in
particular was astonished by them.
"This is a magnificent repast, Helmut, but how...?"
"Wild boar," said Helmut. "I bagged one a few days ago and it's been
hanging in the cold room ever since. We'll be cutting meat from it as
required and, eventually I'm sure, boiling up its remains for stock. I'll
go out hunting for another shortly before the wedding and that one we'll
roast whole on a spit for our wedding feast. As the lord of the manor I'm
the only one allowed to hunt boar, but I have to be careful not to take
too many lest we deplete our stock."
"Hmmm, it could be argued that the needs of the Reich are desperate, that
we should take every boar we can find," said Grost, "but no, you're
right. We have a responsibility to the land and to the future not to
deplete that stock beyond hope of recovery."
I was surprised to hear Grost say this. I hadn't imagined him seeing
beyond the immediate needs of his beloved Third Reich, or having any
interest in posterity.
After the meal, more sated than had been usual of late, we retired to the
family room to listen to the evening news broadcast. I took my usual
place on the sofa, nestling up against Helmut with my feet tucked under
me and his arm around my shoulders. This was the first time Lexi had seen
us like that, and when he kissed the top of my head her face lit up. From
the smile she gave us this was something she was genuinely pleased to
see. She, Gerda, and Gruber all decided to have a post-meal cigarette and
though not a smoker myself it was something most adults did so I was used
to it. However, whatever it was Gruber was smoking was pretty
overpowering.
"Ach, what is that smell?" asked Helmut.
"That would be Bruno's Turkish cigarettes," said Grost. "You get used to
them eventually, I assure you."
I didn't want to have to get used to them, anymore than I wanted to have
to get used to having Gruber and Grost in the castle.
Unfortunately I had no say in the matter.
- 47 -
The upheaval caused by arrival of the castle's new residents continued
into the following day with Grost still setting up his new office and
Helmut and Gerda sorting things out in their now shared office. Gruber
had thankfully departed early in the morning on some errand or other for
Grost, which left Lexi and me at a bit of a loose end. I was all for
going back to my room for some surreptitious fornication and would have
suggested this to Lexi if Gerda hadn't got in there first with a
suggestion of her own.
"Do you like horse riding, Lexi?" she had asked around lunch time.
"I love it, though I haven't done much recently."
"Perfect, then you should take Lexi riding this afternoon, Eva, show her
some of our beautiful countryside. The two of you look to be close in
size so your spare riding outfit should fit her."
Which is how we found ourselves in my room changing into the outfits
together. I'd have liked to have done some making out too, but Lexi was
fired with enthusiasm at the prospect of going riding.
"I love this outfit!" she said, admiring herself in the mirror.
Her outfit was the same as mine, a black low-cut jacket and wide, ankle-
length skirt combination, with knee-high leather boots that laced at the
front, a high-collared white blouse with lot of ruffles, and a bolero-
style black hat. I'd helped her get into these, but before giving her the
hat I'd pulled her long, blonde hair back into a curled-under pony tail,
tying this off with a bow of black ribbon whose trailing ends reached
down to her shoulder blades.
"You need a bolder lipstick," I said, giving her mine. "Except for your
tan boots, everything you're wearing is black and white so it needs a
slash of scarlet to set it off."
I was repeating the advice Gerda had once given me. It was sound advice.
"You're right," said Lexi, nodding as she applied my lipstick.
"Now you just have to take these and we're done," I said handing her a
pair of black leather gloves and a riding crop. We were now identically
attired.
Our horses were waiting for us in the courtyard. Lexi immediately
recognised the saddles.
"Side-saddles!" she said, sounding pleased. "I haven't used one of these
since I was involved with an earl who liked us to go riding together on
his estate with me naked save for a very long blonde wig."
"Really?"
"Really," she said, laughing at my expression. "He had a fascination with
Lady Godiva."
The stable boys helped us mount our horses, and we set off. We rode
through the village slowly, but as soon as we were across the river and
in open country that all changed.
"Race you to the other side of the valley!" shouted Lexi, urging her
horse into a fast gallop.
I did the same, and soon we were hurtling across the valley floor at
breakneck speed, the wind in our faces, laughing with joy. We wouldn't
have raced each other if we were riding with men - beating them would
wound their fragile male egos - but it was just the two of us so we could
really let rip. It was a close run thing, but Lexi won. Of the two of us
she was clearly the more experienced horsewoman.
I took her up to the high meadow where Helmut had had his way with me
last summer. Here we dismounted to let our horses graze, and wandered
over to the edge of the meadow so that Lexi could admire the view.
"I loved riding horses when I was at Eton," she said, gazing at distant
Rumstahl thoughtfully. "Riding horses meant freedom and getting away from
the bullies."
"You were bullied at school, too?"
"Of course I was. Like you I'm small, the favourite reason bullies have
for picking on someone. Unlike you I was also effeminate and had a
foreign name, which gave my bullies extra excuses to torment me."
"I hated my bullies with a fiery passion for making my life miserable," I
said. "If I'd had a gun I think I'd have shot them all dead."
"Me too," said Lexi, nodding, "without a second thought. Serve them
right, too."
The sound of aircraft engines, distant but unmistakeable, made us look
up. At first there was nothing, then we saw them high above us.
"Looks to be around three hundred bombers," I said, shading my eyes from
the sun with my hand. "I wonder where they're headed?"
"Some poor German city's probably in for a pasting," said Lexi, "and it's
a daytime raid, so it'll be the Yanks. B17s, you think?"
"Almost certainly, and with a fighter escort of the new Mustangs and
Lightnings we've been hearing about."
"I'd really like to see those babies up close."
"Me, too. Silly bloody names, though."
"Really? No sillier than 'Spitfire' I'd've thought, and we all love the
Spit."
"True, but its designer R.J. Mitchell wasn't very impressed when he heard
what they'd decided to call his beautiful, beautiful creation. He thought
that was a silly bloody name, too."
"He was right, but I still wouldn't change it for the world."
"This reminds me of lying in a field in Kent in June 1940," I said. "It
was hot then, too, and I was watching dogfights high overhead where
Spitfires and Hurricanes were facing Stukas and Me 109s. We made short
work of the Stukas, but the Me 109s gave us a fight."
"The Battle of Britain," murmured Lexi.
"Churchill gave one of his most stirring speeches afterwards with that
moving line 'never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so
many to so few'."
"I was talking to a Spitfire pilot soon afterwards who said he listened
to the speech on the radio with other pilots and that when Churchill
spoke that line one of them said: 'We're in trouble, lads; someone has
told him about our bar bills.' Fighter boys, eh?"
She laughed, and I chuckled too. Fighter boys, indeed.
"They didn't do right by Dowding after the battle though, did they?" I
said. "The man saves us all, then for his troubles is told his services
are no longer required."
Hugh Dowding was head of Fighter Command during the Battle of Britain, a
position he was relieved of soon afterwards.
"I heard that Bader and Leigh-Mallory got Churchill's ear and persuaded
him that the latter's 'big wing' tactic was the way to go but that
Dowding refused to go along with this believing the idea was reckless and
stupid. He insisted he and Keith Park be allowed to conduct the battle
their way. From what I understand of the big wing I think he was right.
Churchill let him have his way, but Bader and Leigh-Mallory never forgave
him and used their influence with the RAF brass to get Dowding ousted.
They did this to the man who not only saved Britain but probably the
world."
"The world?" said Lexi. "How do you figure that?"
"If we'd lost the Battle of Britain, the Luftwaffe would have had air
supremacy and could then have used their Stukas to dive bomb and destroy
our home fleet in the Channel ports. They were no use against our
fighters, but as dive bombers used against shipping they were
devastating. They proved that later during the battle for Crete. Throw
enough of them against our ships and they would inevitably have sunk them
all. With the RAF defeated and our home fleet destroyed we could not have
repelled an invasion because we'd just left all our heavy armour behind
in France during our evacuation from Dunkirk, remember. So we'd have been
invaded and defeated. Without Britain as a staging ground there would
then have been no way the Americans could have taken part in the war in
Europe, so no second front like Hitler is now facing."
"Okay, I see that," said Lexi, "but the Germans are taking their biggest
hammering in the east. Frankly, it's the Soviets who are doing most of
the heavy lifting in fighting them. You can't be claiming us losing the
Battle of Britain would also have affected that, surely?"
"Actually I can, and not just because of the troops in the west that
could have then been redeployed to the east. If we had been defeated at
home our overseas forces would also have had to surrender. That means we
would have played no part in either the Balkan or North African
campaigns, which would then surely have ended sooner. According to what
I've heard, it was Hitler's commitments in those campaigns that delayed
his invasion of Russia by several weeks, a delay that was crucial."
"How so?"
"They expected to launch earlier, so his invasion forces were not
equipped with adequate winter wear. German troops were in sight of Moscow
when winter fell, stopping them in their tracks. Had they invaded when
they originally intended I think they would have taken Moscow and the
Soviets would then have surrendered. Which would have been it. By autumn
1941 the war in Europe would have ended and the Nazis would be ruling
over everything. Remember how Churchill put it in his 'finest hour'
speech? 'If we fail, then the whole world, including the United States,
including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss
of a new dark age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the
lights of perverted science'. Dowding stopped that from happening. If any
one man could claim to have saved the world it's him."
Lexi was quiet for moment while she digested this, then she turned to me
and grinned.
"Look at us!" she said. "Two RAF boys discussing military matters while
wearing make-up, dressed in female equestrian outfits, and riding side-
saddle. Our commanding officers would have a fit if they could see us
now."
"Me, maybe," I said, "but after a medical exam they'd reassign you to the
WAAFs."
"Shoot me now," she groaned. "WAAFs aren't allowed to serve as aircrew,
so that would be the end of my flying days. The best I could hope for
would be to be a telephone operator, to move model aircraft across a map
as a plotter in an operations room, or to be the driver for some bigwig
who'd probably think sex with me was a perk of his position. Then again,
can you imagine the uproar if I returned as a woman?"
"True," I said. "So what was it like, living at Dr Frankenheim's medical
facility all those months while he performed his procedures on you?"
"The operations were as worrying as operations always are, and the
convalescent periods between them were deeply tedious. I'd have died of
boredom if not for Boops."
"'Boops'?"
"With her impressive breasts and bum, her tiny waist and squeaky, giggly
voice she could've been a real-life Betty Boop. She wouldn't tell me her
real name so I nicknamed her 'Boops'. Under the skirt of her nurse's
uniform she had the biggest dick I've ever seen. She also had an
insatiable sexual appetite and didn't care if you were male or female. I
had many a happy session with her both as I am now and before my main
surgery."
"And she was your nurse?"
"One of them. Like most of the other nurses in Dr Frankenheim's
subterranean facility she was a former subject of his medical
experiments, which had left her as she was. Unlike me, she had also been
subjected to various experimental mind-altering drugs. While she wouldn't
give me her real name, I did get out of Boops that she was American and
had a wife and two kids back in Iowa. She missed them desperately, but
knew she couldn't go back to them like that. If she survives this war I
hope she can find work in a brothel. I think that's where she'd be
happiest now."
"And you think she'd find customers?"
Lexi shook her head and sighed.
"I'd have thought you of all people wouldn't have to ask that question.
There are men and women out there for whom she's exactly what they want.
I can see the attraction."
She smiled, and slowly, seductively, closed the distance between us,
leaving no doubt what she wanted.
The meadow where I'd had sex with Helmut for the second time became the
place where I had sex with Lexi for the second time, but on this occasion
she was the one down on all fours, her skirt lifted up over her back. She
wanted to have sex 'doggy style', and I was happy to oblige. Afterwards
we stayed in the meadow, enjoying the sunshine, until it was time to
return to the village.
We rode at a slow canter, admiring the countryside as we went, so that it
was early evening by the time we got back to the castle. Although there
were still a couple of hours until dinner, I decided to don the dress I'd
chosen for the evening rather than have to change twice.
There was some sort of commotion in the entrance hall when I was
descending the stairs after getting dressed, and the main doors were wide
open.
"Albrecht, what the hell is going on?" Helmut demanded of him as he burst
through them, grinning triumphantly.
"You're just in time," he said.
"In time? In time for what?"
"In time to see a man brought to justice who's both a traitor to the
Reich and a murderer. Look at this."
He tossed something tiny to Helmut.
"What is it?" asked Helmut, catching the item. He might not know what it
was, but I did.
"It's a cyanide capsule, cousin, one we stopped our captive from taking
to escape justice."
Two Gestapo men entered through the main door carrying a semi-conscious
middle-aged man between them, his arms draped over their shoulders, blood
dripping from his nose. I recognised him immediately.
It was Captain Wendt.
************************
To be continued.
************************
Note:
The conversation between Eva and Lexi about Hugh Dowding and the Battle
of Britain is not entirely random and will feed into something further
down the line. I have a shelf of books devoted to the Battle of Britain
and have always held 'the Few' in the highest esteem. My story 'Carnival
of Mirrors: Hero' here on FM was written as a tribute to them.
Virginia
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