Ursula, Nazi Were-Bitch of the SS

Lightning broke across the Brocken mountains, rattling the candelabras that lined the walls of Castle Derschau.

If the men that manned their post inside heard it, they gave no sign. Not while the Baroness watched.

As the thunder died, the screams returned. Doctor Heinrich touched the dial before him and turned it once more. A sharp bolt of electricity sounded, audible through the double wall of stone. The girl on the monitor writhed against the metal table, her lithe muscles tensed, bulging against the skin. Her nipples were stiffened between their iron clasps. Her eyes rolled as another scream echoed through the wall. The terror in it had long since turned to something else. Ecstasy or madness. Or both.

"Again," the Baroness commanded. Heinrich obeyed.

Otto had refused her, on the first night she had arrived. When Otto saw the poor peasant strapped to the table, he had called the woman insane. He said she had no right to give orders. She was just the Kommandant's pet whore.

Heinrich had strapped Otto to the table the next morning.

That had not been science. There was nothing to be learned from the doctor's death. Only obedience.

Baroness Ursula Von Wildenrath stood six feet tall on the ground. In her leather silhouetted boots, she towered over every last soul inside of the castle. Lurid crimson hair ran from beneath her cap and down her shoulders, resting beside pale, heavy breasts that heaved and stretched her black leather jacket to its limit. A black skirt ran just to the very tops of her legs.

But no eyes strayed upon the Baroness. The riding crop on her right hip had taken one lingering eye already.

The Luger on her left had taken another.

"Again," she commanded. Heinrich obeyed.

The meters before him continued to flash red. He could hear the phantom warning sirens coming from its gutted speaker box box. The Baroness had quickly tired of its warnings. Electric cackled between the dials now, and the rank odor of melted plastic followed.

All of the castle's power was directed to their instruments. It wasn't just a possibility that the entire system could fulminate, it was a certainty. How close they were to that point remained to be seen. And the Baroness seemed determined to find it.

"Again."

The dial ticked higher beneath Heinrich's hand. Better to die in an instant than on that witch's table. He had watched Otto until the doctor's last heaving breath. That was no way for a man to die.

The room saw the change at once. Every breath was held as they watched the girl on the monitor. It worked.

The clack of heels issued against the stone floor as the Baroness approached the screen.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes!"

Her glossy eyes glowed with madness against the green light. She gripped the screen with both hands, clicking her long nails against the plastic. Laughter poured out of her in great, heavy gasps.

The heavy wooden door burst open suddenly behind them. The soldiers inside the room raised their weapons in a heartbeat. The man silhouetted against the hallway paled as quickly, but not from them. Ursula's face had fallen to a snarl, baring her teeth against the interruption.

"Intruder, Baroness," he said, bowing low. "Ernst was found dead."

"How?" It was a growl from the depths of her.

"A knife, madam."

Her eyes were lit once more, but her face returned to its cold mask of composure. "The American," she hissed. "I was told he was no more."

The man in the hallway held silently still.

"Seal the castle," she snapped, nodding to the soldiers that lined the wall. "Lock every entrance. He will not leave until he has what he has come for."

The lieutenant in charge stepped forward toward her, but only by a step. "Patrols, madam?"

The Baroness grinned and turned her eyes slowly back down to the monitor. Madness glowed in her once more.

"No, Lieutenant Braun! That will not be necessary." She turned and flickered her fingers toward the next closest soldier. "You, seal this room. Open it on my command only."

The soldier stared back at her, unblinking, seeming unable to respond. But her eyes had already returned to the man in front of her.

"You will be escorting me to my chambers, Lieutenant Braun."

The man's jaw set firmly. He paled as he looked up into her eyes. Her blank mask of a smile gave nothing away.

"And, Doctor Heinrich," she added, turning toward the man's station. "Release the experiment."

---

Gustav Braun raised his service pistol as he rounded the corner. Torches flickered in their brackets, leaving endless shadowed alcoves down the length of the corridor ahead of them.

"We should hurry, Lieutenant," the Baroness said. "You wouldn't wish to linger, once the cage has been opened."

Braun nodded. It was not the girl in the cage that concerned him. Or the American.

"Yes, madam," he said. He strode on, never lowering his weapon.

Her chambers were at the far end of the castle, in a rear tower of the main keep. He had never been through the door of it, even before she had arrived, but he knew it overlooked the village below.

Until she had appeared, the villagers were on good terms with Castle Derschau, and the soldiers that protected these lands. Now they trembled beneath the tower's shadow.

Ursula strode past him as they reached the final stretch. An iron key that dangled from her wrist entered the lock of the door. With a heavy creak, the door eased inward. The Baroness stepped back, ushering the soldier inside before her. He ducked his head and entered beneath her watchful gaze.

The room felt different than the rest of the castle. There were no windows to let in the cold mountain air, or the gloom. Twin fires blazed from the far end, setting a warm yellow glow upon the walls. There were shelves of books, maps, inks, and parchments. His eyes roamed the place. It did not match the stories that Braun and the others had passed around like kitchen gossip.

"The door, Lieutenant."

Braun raised his eyes to her and looked to the door. He had left it ajar with the American still on the loose. Cursing himself, he leaped toward it, pistol raised, and trigger finger tensed. He kicked the door closed with an iron-tipped boot, keeping his weapon raised until he could fasten the bolts that lined the wall.

"Forgive me, madam," he choked out.

The older woman watched him carefully. "Have I done something to harm you, Lieutenant?"

Braun swallowed with great difficulty. "No, madam."

"Then put down your weapon and stop jumping at shadows," the Baroness said lightly. She swept toward the heavy desk that had once belonged to Kommandant Lehmann. Bending at the hip, she opened a drawer and pulled an amber bottle free from inside.

"Pour one for me," she said, setting it on the table closest to the door, "and two for yourself, I think. That is an order," she added.

The Lieutenant obeyed as she crossed the room again and stepped behind a changing screen beside the bed. His eyes rose back to her as he poured. The outline of her unzipped the last of her vest and tossed it light aside. Scotch ran over his fingers, and he cursed himself as he turned back to the mess he had made.

"You have been hearing stories about me, yes?" she called over.

Braun turned in time to see the silhouette of her wriggling free from the tight black skirt. His head turned to follow it being tossed aside, falling just beside the screen.

"Lieutenant?" she sang out playfully.

With a cough, Braun stood up straighter. "No, madam. They're only stories, Baroness."

She popped her head from behind the screen. Her flaming hair was freed from the black cap, and her shoulders were bare as she peeked at him. She broke into a playful laugh.

"Which is it, Lieutenant?"

"Only stories, madam," he said, shaking his head.

Ursula shouldered a robe and strode back over toward him. The sheer fabric of it gave away the white lines of stockings beneath. Her bare breasts held as taught as they had been strapped beneath the jacket.

He forced his eyes up to hers.

Remembering the stories about men who had held her gaze too long, he raised his eyes higher. She was so tall that, as she came to a stop beside him, he had to look straight up at the ceiling to avoid her. It would have been comical if she were any other woman.

"Lieutenant..." she teased, drawing his eyes back to hers. "It's going to be a very long night indeed if you insist on ignoring me."

Braun handed the Baroness her drink, nodded, and looked firmly back up at the ceiling.

"Of course, some of the stories are true," she went on.

His eyes flashed as she dipped her head back and swallowed the drink. Her hand slipped past him to grip the bottle, and she poured herself another.

"Sometimes a man here at the castle takes my interest. And then I take that man as my lover." She smiled at him as she sipped at her fresh Scotch. "And then that man is never seen again."

Braun nodded grimly.

He had accepted his death on the front line. Every passing moment since had only only been a dream. Better to die in her bedchambers than on her metal table.

"Kommandant Lehmann has a terrible temper, I am afraid," she went on. "I have to recommend these men get a post very far away from here. Once I'm done with them, of course."

The soldier lowered his eyes to hers again, hardly daring to believe it. "Madam?"

She raised her arms and gestured around the place. "Were they saying I decorate the walls with the bones of my prey?" she giggled.

It was so unlike her that it made him shudder despite himself.

"I aim to be taken seriously here, Lieutenant. It has taken this much just to hold our soldiers in line. If that means they whisper stories about me behind my back, I will take it. The work we are doing here will change the war."

Braun lowered his glass back to the table. He opened his mouth but found he had nothing to say. It was all so strange.

"The Führer alone receives my updates now. Soon, I won't need to play at being the Kommandant's kept girl. I will end this war myself." The muscles of her neck pulled taught as she hissed the final words.

"It is very tiring, Lieutenant, all of this, keeping so many in line. Commanding obedience from those who would throw me to the wolves. They watch for any sign of weakness. They must be told every task.

She finished her glass with a snarl and nodded for him to pour her another. He rushed to obey.

"This is the last command I give tonight," she said as he re-corked the bottle. "From now until dawn, you will take no orders from me."

Braun straightened again. "Madam?"

"No!" she said. "No 'madam,' no 'Baroness'. I am beneath your contempt. If you need to call me, you say 'dog!'"

He swallowed, too uncertain to speak.

"'Whore' will do, as well. I am yours to command, Lieutenant. This will be my night off, so to speak. I am yours to use and ruin. Break me, and I will love you for it," she sighed, stroking her long nails beneath his chin.

"But, obey me even once before that sun rises, or stop even for one moment, and I will have you serving out your life, nameless, digging iron with bare hands in the deepest snows you have ever seen."

She eased herself against him. Her stiffened nipples pressed against the top of his shoulders as she wrapped her arms lazily around him.

"Do you accept?" she purred.

Braun held her eyes, still thinking. He hadn't climbed this far, or this quickly, by being a fool. He had survived when, one by one, the other men in his unit had vanished from the castle. He was a soldier to his bones. He had taken worse orders for lesser causes. Understanding wasn't required.

He pushed Ursula off his chest, raised his arm, and backhanded her onto the ground.

She looked up at him, looking too shocked to accept what had happened.

"Shut your mouth, dog."

---

Ursula glared up at him, still cradling her jaw with one hand. He spat into her wide eyes. She gasped, but the Lieutenant didn't intend to let her object. He gripped a handful of her silky locks and dragged her over toward the bed.

He had known girls with her needs before. The villages always had a few of them around, who liked a soldier's rougher edges.

Ursula scampered behind him, screeching and stumbling to avoid the worst of the pain. Braun released her suddenly, letting her fly into the side of the bed. As she tried to right herself, she gripped her by the legs and lifted her fully onto the sheets. She scrambled again, trying to stand, and he cracked the palm of his hand across her backside until she stopped.

"You're going to lay there," he told her, fingering open the buckle of his belt, "and you're going to be quiet as a little mouse."

She turned to him, her face blazing red, tears welling in her eyes, "No!"

Before she had even spoken, he was already folding his belt in two. He knew she would disobey him. Some girls couldn't help themselves.

He snapped the leather across her behind, leaving an angry welt across the already swelling red cheeks.

The belt he tossed aside as he climbed onto the bed after her. The girl twisted, turning to face him. His hand was on her throat before she could utter a sound.

"No," he told her.

He crept up the length of her long body on his knees, readying himself in place. She opened her mouth, to shout at him or curse at him. It didn't matter. He unzipped, slid his heavy cock free with one hand, and forced it between her lips.

"I don't care who you are, cunt," he growled. "You lay there and take it, or I'll break your fucking neck."

Her eyes glared pure hate at him. There was no trace of fear there inside.

She went slowly limp as he slid in and out of her, the mask returning to her face once more. He felt her unblinking eyes upon him, but he didn't dare to look again.

When he tired of her mouth, and her vacant submission, he slipped out of her. Profanity poured from her throat the moment it was clear again.

"How dar-" she began. It was all she managed to get out before he gripped another handful of her hair and twisted it until she was silent. Or, at least until she couldn't form complaints.

One by one, he pulled at the garter belts with his free hand, stretching them until the clasps broke. She squirmed again as he pulled her ivory panties down with one hand. She had a mound of dark red fur beneath them. The girl kicked wildly again as the underwear slipped past her knees. One kick hit him square in the jaw. She used the chance to scramble away.

"Oh, no you don't, girlie," he laughed, grabbing her quickly and sliding back off the bed.

"Come here," he growled, pulling her by the legs off the side of the mattress. He turned her over, so she was bent over the edge of it, her chest heaving against the mattress.

He forced the panties into her mouth and held them there tightly. She screamed louder than ever, the sound of it shaking the hand that tried to gag her.

Her hips twisted against his lap as he pressed in closer behind her like she meant to escape. She could play all she wanted, but he could smell the need of her already. He gripped his cock again, dragging it up through the wet folds of her. He dragged it right past her cunt, and rose higher, gliding between the cheeks of her tight ass.

She stopped playing at escape, and gave it a proper try.

He found the tight, trembling fold of dark flesh between her firm, pillowy cheeks. The head of his cock was already swollen fat, the hard ridges of it set and flared wide. She twisted harder than ever, like a rat caught in a trap.

"Beg me to stop," he growled at her.

A long, pleading wail poured out through the fingers that held her mouth.

He pressed his cock in harder, letting the tip of it stretch her rim gently open.

"I'm going to make it hurt if you don't beg me to stop."

She howled again, and the sound died in her throat as he dug his way into her.

Every muscle in her body went rigid. She went suddenly straight as a board, every tendon gripping at once. The muscles of her cheeks crushed around him suddenly, stopping him halfway in.

But she couldn't hold every muscle tight for long. Slowly, her body sagged.

With one thrust he buried himself inside of her.

The rim of her ass trembled against him as she tried to push him back out. He rolled his hips against her, and his sack dragged against her wet lips and hairy bush.

"Whore," he said, taking his hand back to drag her back into a better position. She used the opportunity to spit out her gag. As she screamed, his hand snapped forward, gripping around her throat and cutting the sound off. His hips pumped into her faster.

She was heaven. Her long body laid before him, her red locks splayed against her pale skin, the thin ring of muscle in her ass stroking his cock with every thrust...

His arms eased their grip. His head raised and his eyes slid shut. He was lost in the ecstasy of her body. The wave of pleasure rose higher and higher still, ready to spill over into absolute satisfaction. He pulled in a long breath of air, ready to bellow into the night.

With the kick of her legs, she shot from the ground and onto the bed, diving out from between his legs. Braun gasped and leaned to snatch her back over, but the girl was fast. She snapped a kick into his thigh, missing his sack by the breadth of a hair. The girl tumbled, rolling off the far edge of the mattress and scampering into the corner, out of sight.

"Oho, you bitch!" he screamed at her, rage boiling over every other thought. She just wouldn't learn.

He looked around the room, looking for a fresh way to break her. He spotted it, lying beside the edge of the dressing screen. The Baroness' riding crop.

In a few strides, he made his way over and swept it into his hands. As he lifted it, she was already making a break for it, leaping up onto the mattress, ready to bolt for the door. She froze at the sight of him, and dove back to the safety of the corner.

"I'm going to hurt you, whore!" he bellowed.

With the flick of his wrist, the riding crop broke an empty Scotch glass in half, sending shards of broken glass across the floor. She gave a terrified scream at the sound of it.

He drove the crop down again harder against the bed frame, carving a slice of wood out from the edge of it.

The weight of the crop was off. She had modified it somehow. It was too heavy. He lifted it in front of his eyes and confirmed another suspicion. Razor wire was woven into the edge of it.

But it was too late to back down from his threats now. She needed to be brought in line.

The girl scampered under the bed as he approached. After a minute of cat and mouse, he pulled her out by the ankle.

"I warned you," he hissed, raising the riding crop high.

A sudden knock at the door stayed his arm.

Ursula looked up at him as he looked back at her, and they both turned to the door. Quietly, she raised herself and he released her. She swept her discarded robe over her shoulders as she passed to the entryway.

"Yes?"

"It's the woman, Baroness. The peasant girl. She's dead."

Ursula nodded, her face unchanged. "And the American?"

"Gone, madam. He escaped."

She nodded again and gave the man orders to hold the watch.

Braun watched her stepping back over toward him, her face blank, but her eyes wandering endlessly, lost in thought. He gripped the crop awkwardly, waiting to see if they should continue.

Without looking up to him, she drew the pistol from his belt and fired three rounds into his belly.

"Until dawn, Lieutenant," she sighed. "I was very clear on that."

----

Sergeant Jack Hansen clenched an unlit cigar between his teeth from the shadows of an empty alleyway. Gunfire rang out not far away. The Nazi bastards were gunning down villagers left and right.

A dozen guards had joined the blockade at the town's entrance as he tried to make his escape. It was the only way in or out of the place. Hours passed as you watched them, looking for a weakness. Just after midnight, more soldiers appeared, working their way through the streets, using the citizens as target practice. Everyone left inside now was trapped, getting hunted down like fish in a barrel. The mad bitch.