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The Crossing - Part 22 free porn video
I was an escaped PoW living as a woman, and soon to be a bride. Now, with
the wedding only days away, a squad of Hitler's SS had turned up at the
castle.
THE CROSSING - part 21
by BobH
(c) 2016
- 50 -
I looked at the wooden pea Helmut was holding and smiled.
"I'd have thought it was obvious how it got in your study," I said. "We
clearly missed one when we gathered them up last week after I dropped them
on the floor of your room. It must have then got lodged in the tread of
one of your boots and come loose in your office. It's probably been in
there ever since, but you only just discovered it."
"Yes," said Helmut, nodding as he considered my explanation, "yes, that
makes perfect sense. Logically, there's no other way it could have ended
up in there."
Inwardly, I let out a sigh of relief. Knowing the pea would almost
certainly be found, I had an explanation already prepared for that
eventuality. Last night I'd even checked one of the peas against a pair of
Helmut's boots to make sure it could in fact lodge in the tread.
"You weren't actually giving any credence to Grost's accusations, were
you?" I said, making sure to sound disappointed.
"I'm sorry, my darling!" he replied, taking me in his arms and holding me
tightly. He looked and sounded very contrite. "I allowed Albrecht's
paranoia to infect me. I love you and I should never have doubted you. Can
you forgive me?"
"Always," I said, smiling up at him.
Helmut's lips met mine, we shared a long, passionate kiss, and all was
forgiven. I knew he would err on the side of trusting me now. Everything
had gone just as I'd hoped it would.
"You mentioned Captain Wendt's body was being removed," I said a little
later. "What will happen to it?"
"I assume it will be disposed of by the Gestapo."
"'Disposed of'? So he won't get a funeral?"
"No, I don't think so."
"That doesn't seem right. He was Rumstahl's policeman for decades and was
well-loved in the village. Surely that service counts for something?"
"It's difficult, I know, and he was a family friend. But he was also
working with the enemy. Much as we might wish it were otherwise, there's
no getting around that fact. We can't honour a man who betrayed his
country."
And there it was. I knew Helmut loved me with all his heart, but though he
might be holding me in his arms now and stroking my hair I had to assume
that if he ever found out I was a spy he would turn on me. His words about
Captain Wendt had confirmed I must never let my guard down, not for an
instant, not even for him. I was surprised by how sad this made me feel.
As anyone who knew him could have anticipated, Bruno Gruber was not happy
when he returned to the castle and learned he had missed out on
interrogating the Captain. This was the main topic of conversation over
dinner that evening.
"He had two cyanide capsules?" said Gruber, incredulously, throwing back
his seventh glass of wine.
"So it appears," said Grost, giving me a baleful look.
"Disappointing, very disappointing. The perfect opportunity to inaugurate
the castle's interrogation chamber, now lost."
He was not even trying to hide the petulance in his voice.
"There'll be other opportunities, Bruno," said Grost soothingly while
casting another dark look my way, one which sent shivers down my spine, "I
guarantee it."
"If not, you can always keep your hand in by crossing the valley and
finding some small woodland creatures to torture, like you used to do as a
boy," said Gerda.
Gruber glared at her with murder in his eyes, but said nothing.
"Can't we please discuss more pleasant matters?" said Lexi, wanting to
lighten the mood.
"There are so few these days what with the war in the east going so
badly," said Helmut, gloomily. "The soviets have pushed us out of Russia
and have even gained control of several major cities in Poland."
"We may have suffered a few temporary reverses," said Grost, eyes
narrowing, "but it's defeatist to suggest the war is going badly. Such a
claim could be seen as seditious."
"You're right, of course," said Helmut. "I look forward to us turning the
tide and pushing the Red Army back across the Russian border."
Helmut's tone was so exquisitely pitched that it was hard to be sure
whether or not he was being sarcastic. I knew him well enough by now to
know that he was, but Grost looked less certain.
"Yes, well, indeed," he said. He raised his glass. "To the Fuehrer!"
"The Fuehrer!" we repeated, raising our own. Toasting that man every night
was getting tiresome, but as long as Grost and Gruber were here we had to
play along with this.
"It's time we were moving into the family room so the staff can clear the
dishes away," said Helmut, getting to his feet.
We all dutifully followed him out to the entrance hall and across to the
family room. I excused myself before we reached it.
"I need to tinkle," I said. "I'll rejoin you shortly."
A few minutes alone in my en suite bathroom was just what I needed. My
anxiety levels always climbed around Gruber, and that could be exhausting.
After relaxing, allowing the tension to ease out of me, and doing what I'd
come for, I headed back out. On the landing, I locked the door to my room
behind me then turned to find Bruno Gruber, looming over me. I was too
startled to resist as he pressed me back against the wall, his eyes fixed
on mine, his breath smelling of alcohol and those disgusting Turkish
cigarettes he smoked.
"Fraulein Schumacher, what an unexpected pleasure!" he said, his voice
slurred.
"Please let me by, Herr Gruber," I said.
"Why the hurry? I know you want me. You're just like every other woman,
trying to hide it, to pretend you're disgusted or frightened by me, but I
can always tell. You only play hard to get because it's in your female
nature to do so."
He grabbed my thigh.
"Don't, please don't," I pleaded.
He grinned, slowly sliding his hand upwards. I held onto it with all my
might, but even as inebriated as he was his strength was much greater than
my own. Panicking, I brought my free knee up hard into his crotch. He
merely grunted, his hand pausing momentarily before resuming its travel.
The game was up. He was seconds away from discovering I was a man.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" came an angry voice.
It was Helmut. I've never been so happy to see anyone in my life. He tore
Gruber off me then landed a real haymaker of a punch on the other man's
jaw that sent him reeling backwards. I ran to Helmut, who wrapped his arms
around me.
"Bruno? Helmut? What's going on here?"
This was Albrecht Grost, arriving right behind Helmut. His eyes first took
in me trembling in Helmut's arms, then Gruber leaning unsteadily against a
wall, before he turned his attention back to Helmut, raising a quizzical
eyebrow.
"When Gruber excused himself so soon after Eva had I got worried," said
Helmut. "I knew what kind of man he was, I'd seen the way he looked at
her, and I didn't trust his ability to control himself. Which is why I
excused myself a couple of minutes later. When I found Gruber he was
forcing himself on my fiancee."
"So you struck him, an officer of the Gestapo?"
"Yes, and I'd do it again. He's a guest in my home. His behaviour was
beyond outrageous."
"I may have to report you to a higher authority."
"Please do. I'd enjoy explaining to them how he assaulted the fiancee of
someone who is to all intents and purposes the Fuehrer's favourite nephew
and whose wedding he will be attending in a few weeks time. What do you
imagine this 'higher authority' of your will say to that, hmm?"
"But the disrespect...."
"....was shown by Gruber," said Helmut, interrupting. "The man is a
disgrace and besmirches the good name of the Gestapo. If you make your
report to your higher authority I'm sure they'll see it that way too."
It was fascinating to watch the conflicting emotions play across Grost's
face as he considered all this until, finally, he turned to Gruber.
"Go to your room and sleep it off, Bruno," he said. "Don't show your face
again until you've sobered up and made yourself presentable."
"Why are you here anyway, Albrecht?" asked Helmut, as we watched Gruber
slink away. "Checking up on me, or were you afraid Gruber would do
something stupid and came to prevent it?"
"I feared you might do something...unwise, Helmut. Men often do when
there's a woman involved."
He gave me a disapproving look then turned on his heel and marched off
after Gruber.
"Are you alright?" asked Helmut, still holding me tightly, now giving me
his full attention as he tried to still my trembling. It might be weak and
unmanly of me but after what had so very nearly happened I needed to be
held, and to be held by Helmut, my protector. He was my knight in shining
armour, someone I knew would always be there for me.
"Thank you," I said, gazing up into his handsome face, "you saved me."
"And I always will," he said, leaning down and kissing me.
"Take me to bed," I said, surprising myself. "I want you."
Grinning, he took my hand and led me to his room. And for the first time,
I meant what I'd said. I was a good enough actor that Helmut had never
suspected that on all the occasions we had had sex my passion had been
faked. This time it wouldn't be. His reward for saving me would be a
sexual partner as fully engaged in their lovemaking as he always was. For
tonight at least. He deserved no less.
- 51 -
Late Monday morning found Lexi and I lying entwined on my bed in post-
coital contentment. After willingly taking the female role during sex with
Helmut last night, it had been enjoyable to be a man with Lexi again
today, albeit one done up to the nines in lingerie and make-up as she
insisted I should be. My life was strange and schizophrenic, but I knew it
wouldn't always be that way. For now, I would make my peace with it and go
wherever it took me.
"So, Captain Wendt," said Lexi, as I stroked her abdomen, "did you know he
was a spy?"
"Me? How could I have?"
"Hmmmm. It just seems awfully coincidental to have someone in radio
contact with England and an escaped English PoW together in the same place
at the same time."
"Why? I had no idea there was a spy in the village and so had no reason to
look for one, while he believed me to be a woman."
That last part at least was true.
"I suppose so," she said, conceding my point. "What do you think he was
spying on here? Rumstahl is pretty rural and nowhere near anything of
military importance, after all. The only local military establishment I
know of is Stalag Luft XII twenty miles from here, and a PoW camp is
hardly going to excite London."
"True, but Helmut is a top engineer and works from the castle on advanced
projects, so there's intelligence to be gathered there. And the castle
gets some pretty impressive visitors, too. The von Rumstahls are
surprisingly well connected."
Without consciously realizing what I was doing, my fingers had begun
tracing a very fine, almost imperceptible scar line on Lexi's abdomen as I
talked. Frowning, she sat up, swung her legs onto the floor, and walked
over to my full length mirror, hips swaying and long blonde hair sweeping
her shoulders. She looked magnificent.
"Almost invisible, like all my scars," she said, examining her abdomen and
reassuring herself on that point.
"You're beautiful," I said, "like a work of art. Which I suppose in a way
you are."
"Yes, but Dr Frankenheim's artistry was more than just skin-deep. I might
not be able to conceive a child, but I do have periods. My next one is due
in a week's time. Messy, but on the positive side my body produces its own
female hormones. If it didn't, I'd have to start taking them for my body
to stay looking like this. The Americans started extracting estrogen from
the urine of pregnant horses a few years ago, so it would mean finding a
way of getting hold of it from them. What I don't like thinking about is
just where Dr Frankenheim acquired the female organs he gave me. Were they
harvested from someone after her death, or were they taken from a living
woman against her will?"
"It's a horrible thing to contemplate," I agreed, "but it's not something
you bear any responsibility for. That lies entirely with him."
Lexi turned from the mirror to face me.
"How about you?" she asked, deliberately changing the subject. "Now that
you're a 'kept woman' how did you fill your days before I came along?"
"Mostly by reading, riding, and going for walks in the village. I take a
book with me either late morning or early afternoon most days and sit in
the cafe on the square, enjoying it over a cup of coffee. Or chicory as it
is these days, alas."
"Then that's what we should do next," said Lexi, sitting up. "I'll go back
to my room to change and I'll meet you down in the entrance hall."
In a village as small as Rumstahl news tends to travel faster than you
think it would. When Mark Benton had approached me after yesterday's
church service he already knew of Captain Wendt's capture and death. It
wasn't difficult to figure out how. Members of the castle's staff would
have been responsible, spreading the word over a beer at the inn or while
out shopping. But though everyone knew the gist of what had happened, they
wanted more details. Captain Wendt was a popular figure and everyone was
stunned by his death. This might explain why there were more people at the
cafe than usual when I arrived with Lexi, both of us wearing summer
dresses, white cotton gloves and wide-brimmed hats, and strolling arm-in-
arm. No sooner had we taken our chairs at one of the outside tables than
the questions began.
"Is it true what they're saying?" asked Joachim Steiner, as he served us
our chicory drinks. "Was the Captain really spying for the British?"
"I can't know for sure anymore than you can," I replied, "but that's what
the Gestapo are saying, yes."
"The Gestapo don't make mistakes," said Frau Englemann, firmly, "and
Albrecht Grost certainly doesn't."
"You know him?"
"Of course. He used to come into my shop as a boy when he visited the
castle. I caught him once trying to steal chocolates. Just a youthful
indiscretion, of course. He's grown into a fine, upstanding citizen and
party member. You must be very proud of your boyfriend, Fraulein Marceau."
Lexi gave a small nod and vague hand gesture at this but said nothing. I
regarded Frau Englemann thoughtfully, wondering again if she was Grost's
agent here. She was Rumstahl's most ardent Nazi, her post office a
veritable shrine to Hitler and to the Nazi party. She even stocked 'Der
St?rmer', the vile 'newspaper' whose editor Julius Streicher filled its
pages with a never-ending stream of anti-Semitic content. It's to the
credit of the villagers that the pile of copies on display never seemed to
get any smaller. The main problem with Frau Englemann as a suspect was
that she was *too* obvious. If you have someone spying for you then you'd
want it to be somebody no one would imagine it could be, like the previous
cafe owner Franz Steiner.
When we'd revealed what little we knew Lexi and I were left in peace to
enjoy our beverages and each other's company.
"It really is quite lovely here," she said, casting an approving eye over
the village square, "friendly people, as well. Perhaps too friendly."
"It's understandable for them to want to know more about what happened to
Captain Wendt and for them to ask me about it. I'm about to become their
Countess, the lady of the manor, so they feel comfortable asking me such
things, as they should."
I stretched out in my chair, luxuriating in the warmth of the sun on my
legs and arms. Then I saw him marching across the square: Mark Benton. As
he drew level with me he contrived to drop his keys.
"Toilet, now," he whispered as he bent down to retrieve them before
continuing down the small street running along the side of the cafe.
I glanced at Lexi, who seemed oblivious to this exchange.
"Back in a few minutes," I said, getting to my feet.
"Take your time," she replied.
I made my way through the cafe to the small lavatory at the rear. Locking
the door behind me, I stood on the toilet seat to bring my face level with
the tiny window.
"Benton?" I whispered.
"Here, Ripley," he replied. "Is bringing Albrecht Grost's mistress to the
cafe going to be a regular thing, now?"
"I don't know," I replied, biting my lip. "Possibly. We've become
friendly, she's bored, so it wouldn't surprise me."
"What do you make of her?"
He hadn't recognised her as the former Alec Delon, which was good, and I'd
already decided I wasn't going to reveal her secret to him.
"Seems nice enough," I said. "A bit vain, but then who wouldn't be looking
like that?"
"Is she a threat? Do I have to worry about her spying on you for her
boyfriend?"
"I don't think so, no. I believe all she wants from me is my friendship."
"OK, I'll defer to your judgment in this matter for now. If she becomes a
threat later I can eliminate her then. Having her accompany you here is
going to be inconvenient, but we'll find a way around that."
"Is that all you wanted to see me about?"
"No, it's not. Given the type of man he is Grost probably keeps his cards
close to his chest, but his men are another matter. It's surprising how
much you can loosen someone's tongue when you befriend them at a bar and
ply them with beer."
"What have you learned?"
"That Hitler's SS security team will be arriving at the castle three weeks
from now on the morning of August 17th, only two days before the wedding.
Which means I have to get into the castle before they turn up, so you know
what you have to do."
Indeed I did.
- 52 -
The castle kitchen lay under the Great Hall and the dining room but was at
ninety degrees to them enabling dishes to be sent up to both by means of
dumb waiters. It also meant that while you had to descend stairs to get
into the rear garden from the Great Hall, it was at the same level as the
kitchen, access between the two being by means of a single small door. The
garden was accessible only via these two doors, since beyond its low walls
lay a fifty foot rocky cliff at the bottom of which lay the village. The
gentle hill connecting village and castle was only to be found at the
front of the castle. Consequently, the door between kitchen and garden was
secured by nothing more than a couple of shoot bolts since no one imagined
it ever needing more than that.
At two a.m. on the morning of August 17th, I crept from Helmut's bed and
made my way down to the kitchen to pull those shoot bolts back. At some
point between now and dawn, in the total darkness of a moonless night,
Mark Benton would scale that cliff so the door needed to be unlocked for
when he did. Scaling such cliffs in daytime using climbing gear was beyond
me so I marvelled at the thought of him even attempting such a thing.
I was thinking about this as I emerged into the entrance hall from the
small staircase under the main stairs that led only to the kitchen.
"Why are you creeping about the castle in the middle of the night,
Fraulein?"
It was Gruber.
"Ach, you startled me!" I said.
This was an understatement.
"I repeat, why are you creeping about the castle in the middle of the
night?"
He stepped out from a shadow into the feeble light of the candle I was
carrying.
"I might ask the same thing of you, Herr Gruber."
"I couldn't sleep. You?"
"Hunger," I replied. "I woke and needed a snack."
I bit into the apple I had taken from the kitchen on my way out to give me
just this excuse if I encountered anyone.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I need to return to bed."
For a moment I thought he might try to bar my way, but instead he just
nodded.
"Goodnight, Fraulein," he said.
"Goodnight, Herr Gruber," I replied.
He looked oddly sad and a little lost, but I didn't care. I was just
relieved to have avoided another confrontation with him.
The SS arrived at the castle the following morning, eight of them in two
vehicles plus their commanding officer. A man around Helmut's age and
build he was stiff, formal and very correct. He presented his orders to
Helmut at the door.
"Sturmbannf?hrer Markus Wagner," he said, sturmbannf?hrer being an SS rank
equivalent to that of a major in the Wehrmacht. "I'm here to take charge
of security arrangements for the Fuehrer's visit in two days time. As
you'll observe, my orders were signed by Heinrich Himmler."
"Wagner," said Helmut as he read the orders, "any relation to the great
composer?"
"Not directly, no, though we probably have a common ancestor if you go
back far enough."
"And you'll be staying here at the castle too, I see."
"I apologise for the imposition but yes, I will. My men will be on site
patrolling the castle and its grounds around the clock until the Fuehrer
has left. With the recent despicable attempt on his life, to do anything
less would be a grave dereliction of duty. They will work eight hour
shifts, with four of them on duty and four of them off at any given time,
and will be billeted with four selected families in the village for the
two nights we'll be here."
"You'd better come in then," said Helmut, sounding resigned. "Shall I have
the servants take your bags up to a guest room?"
"That's won't be necessary. I travel light and don't require assistance."
He wasn't kidding. In marked contrast to Grost and Gruber, he had only his
spare uniform and a standard kit bag with him. Retrieving these from the
lead vehicle, he ordered his men down to the village then followed Helmut
up to his room. I wasn't happy about this. With Grost's Gestapo goons
already billeted with families and now the SS, Rumstahl was turning into
something very different to the sleepy little hamlet it had been.
We discovered what the security arrangements would be in the family room
that evening after dinner when he briefed us all on what to expect.
"While my men have been securing the castle, Herr Grost's Gestapo have
been doing sterling work down in the village. As well as keeping an eye on
anyone who might harbour subversive tendencies, his men have been keeping
an eye on everyone's movements. The reports I've been shown are excellent
and I particularly commend his decision to have one of them permanently
assigned to the railway station to log every ticket bought and journey
taken."
Grost smiled at this compliment, his chest visibly swelling.
"Now we come to the arrangements for the day of the wedding itself,"
Wagner continued. "Because the castle overlooks the church and thus would
be an ideal vantage point for a sniper, it represents an obvious security
concern. It's my decision therefore that while the Fuehrer is here the
upper floors will be cleared and only essential personnel such as those
working on the wedding feast in the kitchen and setting up in the Grand
hall will be allowed to remain in the castle. They will of course do so
under the watchful eyes of my men. Clearing of the upper floors will begin
at the topmost level and work down. Residents will be required to hang the
keys to their rooms on the hooks inside the doors before leaving. After
each room has been inspected and determined to be empty, the door will be
locked using the keys on the master keyring, the only other copies of
those keys. Those of you licensed to possess handguns should leave them on
top of your beds for inspection and so we know where they all are. After
the upper floors have been entirely cleared an SS guard will be stationed
at the foot of the stairs and no one will be allowed to return to their
rooms until after the Fuehrer has departed. The only person on the upper
floors during this time will be Bruno Gruber of the Gestapo, who will
patrol them while the wedding ceremony is taking place."
This wasn't so much a real job that needed to be done as it was makework
to keep Gruber out of the way. Since he was family we had to allow Grost
to attend our wedding, but this courtesy did not extend to Gruber. Given
Gruber's assault on me, Grost wasn't going to push the issue. My guess was
that Gruber had made a fuss about wanting to play a part in protecting the
Fuehrer. So to placate him and to allow him to save face, and as a
courtesy to the Gestapo, Wagner had assigned Gruber to patrol floors he
believed would be wholly deserted after they had been cleared by the SS. I
wondered if Wagner and Grost had hammered this out by phone before the SS
even got here and that Gruber had been informed of what his role would be
by Grost yesterday? It would certainly explain his subdued mood during my
encounter with him. Gruber might be a thug and a sadist but he was no
fool. He would have realised this was nothing but a sinecure.
Afterwards I went to my room, the first time I'd been able to get to it
unobserved all day, and rapped out a prearranged sequence of knocks on the
closet side-panel that was also the door to the secret passage. I was
relieved when it opened and Benton poked his head out.
"So you did manage to safely climb the cliff and make your way through the
castle without being seen."
"Evidently. What do you have for me, Ripley?"
I reported all I'd been told of the security arrangements, and he actually
laughed.
"That's perfect!" he said. "You realise what this means of course?"
I nodded.
"Oh yes," I said, "I know exactly what it means."
**********************************
To be continued.
**********************************
Next: the wedding.
A while back I mentioned my story 'The Awakening' as my only other non
SF/magic transformation tale on FM. However, it occurs to me that those of
you who don't care for those might still like my short tale 'Perfect'.
There's a tiny bit of magic in there but what it's used for could just as
easily have been accomplished by hypnotism so perhaps that's what I
should've used. If you substitute one for t'other as you read I think you
might like it.
Clover
- 13.08.2020
- 10
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