My first two stories posted to this site were my first two attempts at storytelling. But those stories were true, exaggerated and embellished, but basically true. I've found, after this third attempt, that truth is easier than fiction.
The following tale is darker than the first two. It involves one subject about which I know a considerable amount, World War II, and another about which I know almost nothing, forced sex. Seduction is one thing, but rape and forced sex are altogether different. I realize that this is just fantasy, but I find that I am uncomfortable with this genre. I hope that I have not been too presumptuous in projecting the thoughts and feelings of the protagonist, Madeleine. In this context, I may have missed the boat altogether. If so, you have my abject apologies. However, the deed is done, so to speak, and in the immortal words of Sherlock Holmes, "The game's afoot." Read on, and let the bouquets or brickbats fall where they may.
This is a work of fiction. The history is not fictional; however, any similarity between the characters of this story and any actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any person under eighteen or anyone who does not wish to view the explicit sexual situations or language contained in this story should exit now. All rights reserved.
Madeleine Dubois and the other four members of her Resistance cell had already spent a long evening hunched over the small radio in Jean Carteret's study in Caen, about ten miles from the Normandy coast. They were listening to a long string of "personal' messages broadcast over the BBC such as, "The Eiffel Tower will not fall," John has a long mustache," or "The fox is in the henhouse." Some of these cryptic messages meant nothing at all and were just jabberwocky. Others were coded orders, nonsense to anyone listening, including German intelligence, except for the particular Resistance cells for whom each message was intended. This night, however, Madeleine and thousands of other Resistance fighters all over France were interested in poetry. Specifically, they were anxiously listening for the second line of "Chanson d'Automne [Song of Autumn]", a nineteenth century poem by Paul Verlaine. It was going to be a long night, this night of the fifth of June, 1944.
Just four days earlier, on June 1, in that same study, they had excitedly heard the first line of that poem as it crackled across the channel, "Les sanglots long des violons de l'automne [The long sobs of the violins of autumn]." They knew that those words represented the first half of a message announcing the long awaited Anglo-American invasion of Hitler's Festung Europa [Fortress Europe]. The second line of the poem would announce that the invasion would begin within twenty-four hours. After that would come more messages sending the individual Resistance cells into action against the German occupation.
Not far from Caen, in a large chateau which had been converted to German intelligence use, the German Seventh Army's intelligence chief, Colonel Hermann von Steuben was also anxiously awaiting that same bit of poetry. In January, Admiral Wilhem Canaris, then chief of all German intelligence, had warned his intelligence chiefs of the anticipated message's significance. Von Steuben was alerted on June 1 by his radio operators that the first part of the message had been intercepted, and it had been re-broadcast again during the nights of the second, third and fourth. Now he was waiting for the remaining shoe to drop.
Adolf Hitler and most of the German high command firmly believed that the invasion would come in the Pas-de-Calais area directly across the channel from England at its narrowest point. The Allies had reinforced that belief through the execution of a brilliant deception plan, "Operation Fortitude", designed to draw German defense efforts away from the true target, Normandy. The strong German 15th Army with its powerful Panzer divisions was stationed near the Pas-de-Calais, and the undermanned 7th Army held the Normandy beaches and fields. Moreover, almost no-one expected the invasion to be launched in early June for a variety of reasons. The most important of these was the weather, which had already been miserable for several days and was forecast to be just as miserable for several more. This, coupled with the tidal schedules, mitigated against a landing until late June or early July.
Field Marshall Ervin Rommel, chief of Army Group B and the man most responsible for the building and reinforcement of the Atlantic Wall during the past year, had gone home to Germany to visit his wife for a few days. Most of the generals responsible for the defense of the French coast were in Rennes for a Kriegsspeil exercise [war games]. None of them believed the Verlaine message to be of any real importance. After all, they had intercepted so many misleading messages from England, and surely the allies would not be foolish enough to announce their coming over the radio. As a precaution, the 15th Army was placed on alert, but the 7th was not.
Colonel von Steuben, however, remained edgy. Because of information gleaned from French informants and his belief in the validity of the Verlaine message, he felt strongly that the invasion was imminent and that it would come in Normandy.
While von Steuben was thinking only of the invasion, Madeleine Dubois' thoughts turned to him and the humiliations that she had suffered at his hands.
In 1939, Madeline and her husband Paul Dubois had been supremely happy. And why not? Paul Dubois was a handsome twenty-six year old lawyer and gentleman farmer with a beautiful and talented twenty-one year old wife who was also a nurse at the local hospital. They owned a lovely home in Caen and two large estates complete with chateaus which had been in their respective families for generations. They had been married in June, and made love every evening in their bed at home in Caen. Neither cared that the other was inexperienced at the art of sex. Neither had ever known another carnally, and they were in love. Life was good.
All that changed when Hitler's armies invaded Poland on September 1, 1939. Paul was a reserve major in the French army and was called up when France mobilized after declaring war against Germany. Then in May, 1940, when the German blitzkrieg sliced through France, Paul was captured and, along with many of his countrymen, was sent to Germany as a slave laborer. Madeleine was overwhelmed with grief at first and then with her job as a nurse and the responsibility of managing two farms. Ultimately she was forced to resign her position as a nurse to give her full attention to the estates. She spent her days overseeing the estates and laboring in the fields with her tenants.Her nights were spent alone at home crying for her husband. Then came Colonel Hermann von Steuben.
When he was assigned to the area as intelligence chief, von Steuben's first task was to find a suitable headquarters site for himself and his unit. He settled on one of the Dubois chateaus largely because of its size and location, but also because of its mistress. She was there on the day of von Steuben's inspection of the chateau, and, if the truth be known, he spent as much time inspecting Madeleine as he did evaluating the premises.
Even though she was just wearing a light summer working dress with her hair tied up in a scarf, Madeleine was a obviously a classic French beauty. Her full breasts were accentuated by her trim, curvaceous figure and her long shapely legs. Von Steuben was smitten with lust. On her part, Madeleine couldn't help but notice that von Steuben was a handsome man, particularly so in the uniform of a Wermacht colonel. He was tall, trim and muscular, and his Aryan good looks and unwavering gaze made Madeleine extremely nervous. She trembled as his azure eyes lustfully devoured her body, and as she nervously pulled her scarf from her head, her beautiful cinnamon hair tumbled in natural curls about her shoulders. She was as lovely as a Renoir painting, and von Steuben knew at that moment that he had to have her.
Although he could have simply confiscated her chateau, von Steuben agreed to pay Madeleine a very generous rental for its use. He even agreed to allow her tenants to remain on the estate and continue to work it for her, as long as they stayed away from the main chateau. Madeleine wasn't happy with trading with the enemy, but it was better than being evicted. Moreover, she could certainly use the additional income.
During the following week von Steuben's unit moved into the chateau, and he proceeded to gather intelligence about Madeleine and her absent husband. He learned everything about her. He also made inquiries and found out that Paul was taken from France to a prison work camp in Germany. He learned other interesting information about Paul as well. Armed with the results of his inquiries and wearing his best dress uniform and accoutrements, von Steuben presented himself at Madeleine's home late one evening. He knocked heavily at the door.
"Thump, thump, thump." THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!"
Madeleine had been sitting at her kitchen table clad only in her long sleeping chemise and a light silk robe given to her by Paul. A bottle of red wine which was two-thirds empty was open in front of her, and her glass was half full. She had been trying to drink herself into a stupor so that she could sleep until the heavy hammering at the door shattered the silence of her alcohol induced reverie. She arose quickly and hurried to the door thinking that some emergency had arisen. It wouldn't have been the first time that her nursing skills were required in the middle of the night.
"Who's there? she said through the heavy oak.
"Colonel Hermann von Steuben," a voice said, with heavy emphasis on the "von".
Startled, she inquired, "What do you want at this time of night? I'm not dressed, and I'm going to bed."
Von Steuben chuckled to himself and said under his breath, "Yes you are, my pretty pet! I'm going to bed you." Then, "Please let me in. It's important!"
Madeleine replied, "It can't be so important that it can't wait until morning. Besides, I'm a married lady and do not entertain men in my home at night, particularly German officers."
"I think you'll make an exception in this case," he responded, "It's about your husband."
The door flew open. "Paul? You have news of Paul?" She hadn't heard from him since his capture. "Is he.....?"
"No, no, my dear! He's perfectly all right," May I now come in?"
"Of course. Please do come in Colonel. Wait one moment," Madeleine anxiously replied. Although she was practically hyperventilating at the thought of news of Paul, she remembered her manners. "I was having a glass of wine in the kitchen. Would you care for a glass? We can go into the salon to talk."
"Yes, I would like a glass of wine, von Steuben replied. "But the salon isn't necessary. Let's both go into the kitchen It's more informal, and I'm sure that you are anxious for the news."
"Oh yes!" said Madeleine. Before she turned to lead him into the kitchen, von Steuben drank in the sight of her heaving breasts. He could see her erect nipples and the dark shadows of her areolae through the thin cotton chemise. His cock began to stir. She felt the heat of his lustful eyes upon her and instinctively pulled her robe about her to cover herself. "Follow me," she said.
Once inside the kitchen, von Steuben sat in the proffered chair and watched as Madeleine stood on tiptoes to reach another glass in the cupboard. As she strained upward to reach it, her rounded derriere and legs were accentuated to their full advantage. Von Steuben, Prussian gentleman that he was, normally would have leaped to her aid and procured the glass himself, but he was enjoying the show. His cock stirred again. Madeleine finally grasped a wineglass, demurely seated herself at the table and filled both of their glasses.
"Now, please tell me about Paul," Madeleine said softly.
Von Steuben spent the next fifteen minutes in detailed discourse about her husband. He told her that Paul had been wounded in action but had fully recovered. He was now in a labor camp outside of Essen and was in good health. Von Steuben astounded Madeleine by telling her that he had actually spoken to the commandant of the camp and asked him to inform Paul that Madeleine was well and would soon be corresponding with him. She could write to him and von Steuben would have her letters delivered. Unfortunately, prisoners were not permitted to write or send letters out.
Tears of relief and joy were now running down Madeleine's cheeks, and the ever solicitous colonel dried them with his handkerchief. Madeleine continued to pump him for more details about her husband, and for every question she posed, he had a smiling answer.
Finally, after another thirty minutes of pleasant conversation and several more glasses of wine from a second bottle, Madeleine was completely at her ease. Her robe had fallen apart again, but she took no notice. Von Steuben did, however, and his loins were now afire. Madeleine again realized how handsome the smiling colonel was and mused that if she were not already married and he were not her country's enemy, she would certainly be interested in him. She felt a stirring in her loins but quickly dismissed the feeling. Finally, she gushed, "Colonel, you are too kind. I don't know how to thank you."
Von Steuben stood up from the table, clicked the heels of his jackboots together in the German fashion and raised his glass in a toast. "To your husband, Paul, and his continued health," he said unctuously. Madeleine scurried to her feet and happily joined him in the toast. She was a little giddy now and was warmed by the good news, the alcohol, and his presence.
Von Steuben abruptly set his glass down on the table, reached around Madeleine's waist with both hands, pulled her to him and kissed her passionately and deeply. Madeleine was momentarily paralyzed as his muscular arms encircled her and his tongue probed the inside of her mouth. It had been so long since a man had held and kissed her, and her body was longing to respond. She briefly opened her mouth and sucked on his tongue. Hers leapt forward into his mouth and she moaned. Then, she dropped her glass, and the sound of it shattering on the floor brought her back to her senses. She tried to push von Steuben away.
She panted, "No, we can't do this. I can't do this! Stop!" Von Steuben ignored her and burrowed his face into her neck, kissing her repeatedly. "Stop it! she screamed and kicked him in the shin. She almost fell as von Steuben released her. He stepped back, smiling as Madeleine fought to regain her balance and her composure.
"We can't do this," she cried. "I can't do this. I'm married. I love Paul, and I can't do this with you. I thought you were a gentleman, but you are a pig!"
Von Steuben's calm, cool demeanor never changed. His eyes narrowed slightly as he spoke evenly, "I want you, and I will have you now, that is, if you want your husband to continue to enjoy good health. You know, there are other camps where the work is harder, the food less available, and the disease and mortality rates higher. Some prisoners even contract poisoning, lead poisoning, if you know what I mean. If you ever want to see your precious Paul again, you will do whatever I want you to do, whenever I want you to do it. From this moment on, you are my mistress. Besides, you were enjoying what I was doing to you, and you will enjoy what comes next even more. Now, come here Madame Dubois. Let us begin again."
Madeleine shuddered. In the brief moments that the colonel was speaking, her entire world came crashing in upon her. Her hopes lay shattered on the floor with the shards of her wineglass. She was numbed by the wine and the impact of his words. She was utterly defeated, but she uttered a last curse, "Swine!"
Von Steuben relished the moment as he saw the look of hopelessness in her eyes. As Madeleine bowed her head in surrender, he unsnapped his belt and removed it and the attached holstered pistol. He slowly unbuttoned and removed his tunic and undershirt and placed them on the table with the belt and weapon. He then seated himself again on a chair and beckoned to Madeleine to approach.
He crisply ordered, "Help me with my boots. Surely you know how." Madeleine nodded dumbly, and complied. After each boot had clunked to its respective resting place on the kitchen floor, he spoke again, "Remain right where you are. Don't move." Madeleine hung her head in fear and shame. Von Steuben leaned over, removed his socks and bounced each of them off the top of Madeleine's bowed head. Again he stood and slowly removed his cavalry pants. Now he was naked save for his undershorts. His rampant prick acted as a tent pole against the strained fabric.
"Look up," he ordered. Madeleine complied and inhaled sharply. Tears began rolling down her cheeks as she fully comprehended what was happening to her. Von Steuben sneered, "Don't cry my pretty pet. You won't have to wait much longer. Now, remove my shorts and see the instrument of your future pleasure."
Madeleine hesitated a moment, then sighed and pulled his shorts down around his ankles. His proud cock sprung outward and upward like a curved javelin launched into thin air. He stepped out of them to stand naked in front of her. She gasped in shock, wonder, and fear. He was huge! She had only seen one prick in her life, and it was much shorter, thinner, and un-circumcised.. Madeleine shuddered again. She was frightened but strangely fascinated by the angry reddish-purple, mushroomed headed organ waving in her face.
Von Steuben returned to his seat and crooned, "Do you like what you see, my love? He's ready for you. Come and welcome him with a kiss."
Madeleine was repulsed. "No, absolutely not. I've never done that, even with my husband." The truth of the matter was that she and Paul had never tried any form of oral sex. She had read about it, heard about it, and was curious about it. But she was too shy to broach the topic with Paul. In fact, she and Paul were reared in conservative Catholic homes and only made love in the missionary position. Now she was being asked to kiss another man's cock. She couldn't shame herself by complying with his request.
Only it was not a request. It was an order. Von Steuben made that perfectly clear when he said, "You will now come over here and kiss my cock, and I mean NOW!" Defeated again, Madeleine knee walked over to von Steuben, leaned over and tentatively planted a small kiss on the head of his cock. His pre-cum basted her lips, and she recoiled, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. Von Steuben laughed and said, "Not good enough, pet. Come and suck me with that beautiful virgin mouth." He grabbed her by the hair at the back of her head and forced her downward. "Suck it," he hissed again. "Suck it now!"
Madeleine opened her mouth and took the head of his rigid cock inside. It was surprisingly soft, and the pre-cum oozing from it was not unpalatable. Her loins began to tingle. "That's more like it love. Now lick it." She removed her mouth and licked all over the spongy head. "Now, lick up and down the shaft," he urged. She quickly complied and was again impressed with the length and thickness of his raging member.
"Now suck it again, sweetheart. I want to fuck your lovely mouth with my cock." She was repelled by his crudity, but she complied with his orders. First, she took the head into her mouth again and then took a little more. His hand at the back of her neck pulled her forward as he began to pump in and out of her sucking warmth. Her right hand clutched the base of his cock as she slurped it.
As she engulfed more and more of him with every stroke, Madeleine felt herself becoming increasingly aroused against her will. She tried to control her body, but it was betraying her. "Oh no, this can't be happening," she thought, "I'm wet." And wet she was. She felt her fluids running down her legs as the heat between her legs began to increase. She surreptitiously reached between her legs with her left hand and began to caress her clitoris with her fingers. She was on fire now.