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 SS and M

(excerpted from THE NAZI DEATH-HEAD FILES)

by William Maltese



"You are nothing more than a piece of meat," colonel Saber said, pacing in front of what was once a pretty young woman. "Actually, you are less even than meat. Meat can at least be eaten; not even a Jew would eat fellow pig, would he?"

His words barely penetrated to Marta's brain. There'd been so much pain, so very much, that the shrieking hum of it still remained to the distraction of everything else. It played loudly against her one punctured eardrum. It pulsed throughout her body like a second heartbeat.

Colonel Saber moved Marta's head with the tip of his highly polished black boot. In a way, it was a shame that she'd been so difficult. She had, after all, been a very attractive member of her subhuman species. She could have had a few more months left to live in one of the special prostitution establishments staffed by non-Aryans. And, not even Saber had anything against a German fucking a Jew. That was certainly no different than fucking a dog: something done by at least one member of Hitler's High Command.

Marta had, though, been difficult. She'd been next to impossible. Saber was always surprised to find how hard these things fought to preserve the members of their species. They really were quite impossible. There was no way you could convince them of their inferiority, even if you lined up all the scientific facts by way of proof. They were all brainless, driven to procreate and persevere, like baboons at rut in the trees.

Marta's mouth ran blood. Some of the blood was crusted. One of the first things Saber had done when Marta had entered the room was strike her across the face with the ivory and gold handle of his swagger stick. He'd broken her front teeth. She'd spit the pieces up on the floor. They were still there, fractions of white in a pool of coagulated pink saliva.

The bitch had looked so surprised when he'd hit her. They always looked surprised. What did any of them expect when they got hauled here? Did they think they were being asked for schnapps? Hell, no! They couldn't possibly think that. Too much of what did go on behind these closed doors, in these cellar cubicles, in these interrogation rooms, had already leaked out. Yet, one after the other, people walked in, just like Marta, arrogant as ever, thinking that what had happened to the others would certainly not happen to them. Unfortunately for them, they were wrong in their collective assumption.

"Oh, Marta Solomon, alias Marta Steiger," Colonel Saber said, shaking his head in disbelief, "how can you persist in not telling us what we want to know? In the end, you shall tell us anyway. Then, what? All that you've gone through, and all that you will go through, will have been for nothing. For absolutely nothing. And what will you have gained? Even if you'd lived to look in a mirror, you'd only wish yourself dead. So, why not just tell us what we want to know?"



What Saber and his superiors wanted to know were names. Jewish names. Names of certain people existing within the very Third Reich who had gotten their present positions by subterfuge.

Smelling their extermination, like buzzards sensing decaying carrion on the wind, many Jews had fled. Others had, for one reason or another, stayed behind. Most of those who stayed had been rounded up. Some, though, had been clever. They'd changed names, forged papers, bribed petty bureaucrats. They now masqueraded as pure Germans. Such utter audacity!

And here was little Marta Solomon who would soon be naming names, just like little Mehetabel Moiyan had told Saber of the Steiger family -- who hadn't really been Steigers at all.

"Come now, Marta," Saber said. "I shall give you one more chance. You tell me what I want to know, and I'll call my men to take you out of here. Wouldn't you much prefer a nice clean bed to this cold and hard floor?"

Oh, God, she hurt! Mentally, Marta tried to isolate one single place inside or out which didn't ache. She was unsuccessful. She hurt everywhere. She was just one big agony. And this German bastard was insinuating there would be more pain, more agony, more hurt, unless

God help her. She couldn't tell him. She couldn't! She'd been Melissa's friend forever. If she talked, they would bring Melissa here. They'd bring Anna and Wilhelm. How could Marta talk and subject any of them to this?

Saber motioned for the two soldiers who stood by one wall. They came at his nod. They undoubtedly thought Saber was going to give them leave to again use the girl's body for their cocks. Josef had especially enjoyed Marta's tight virgin ass. Karl was less excited than he might have been, because he liked mouth; Saber had ruined that for Karl with the first blow of the swagger stick. Still, Karl had fucked the girl in the cunt once and, then, taken sloppy seconds up her ass. His cock was hard again. It was a big cock, evident in its present ridging of the young soldier's left pants leg.

"I want her moved over there," Saber instructed, pointing to a spot across the room. He was afraid he was going to have to disappoint them. After all, he had given them first whack at the little bitch. That was better treatment than they'd have gotten from any other interrogator. Take Stillman, for instance. Stillman personally went through mouth, cunt, and ass, in that order. And when he finished with each, he made sure no other cock would follow suit. The women and girls who came out of his sessions were hardly recognizable even as members of a subspecies. Stillman's assistants invariably came out with their hard cocks still large, their balls turned blue from frustration.

If Saber believed in sharing (after all, the way things went, you never knew when one of the soldiers here today would be promoted and useful tomorrow), that didn't mean, he was generous to the exclusion of his own passions.

Saber's cock was hard. It had been hard for a long time. It had gotten harder when Saber had seen Josef fucking the girl's ass, harder yet when he'd seen Karl fucking her cunt and then her butt hole. Then, if possible, it had gotten even harder as Saber had been forced to proceed to more violent methods of interrogation when the girl refused to talk.

Marta groaned when they hefted her. They treated her with less concern than they would a sack of potatoes. But, why should she expect any more at this late date?

They dropped her, back against the floor, after having half carried and half dragged her to where Saber had indicated. They looked disgustedly at the mess her bleeding had left on their hands and clothes. There was something especially disgusting about a Jew's blood. It never seemed to wash out, and it stunk like pig sty.

"Drop the bar, Josef," Saber instructed. There was a foot-long bar hung by its center from a rope suspended from the ceiling. From each end of the bar was suspended a length of chain. By untying an end of the rope from a bracket trailing one wall, the weight of the bar and its chains lowered, via a dual pulley system.

"My little Jewess pig bitch," Saber said and nudged Marta's body with his boot toe to be sure she was still conscious. "Do you know what butchers do with their meat? They hang it on meat hooks. They hang it for days and days and days.

Marta stirred. She tried to sit up. Her head throbbed. She was having difficulty seeing. Her vision kept going in and out of focus. Colonel Saber's voice came to her on waves: loud, soft, loud, nonexistent. What was he saying? Meat? Hanging? What did he want? What did any of them want? Why couldn't they let her alone? She was so tired. She hurt so much.

Saber went to the cabinet by one wall. He knelt. He opened the third drawer on the left. He lifted out two large hooks, shutting the drawer before standing.

"Aren't these beautiful?" Saber asked, extending one hook in each hand. They were made of polished steel, each curved wickedly to a barbed point. They were about a foot across at the curve. At the opposite end from the point, each hook had a dime-sized eyelet. "Made especially for hanging sow."

They'd smashed her face. They'd raped her cunt and her ass. They'd beat her. They'd cut her. What would they do to her now? Hang her like a pig? On hooks? Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God!

Saber watched for Marta's reaction. It was very difficult to read what the girl was thinking. Her face was such a distorted mass of twisted flesh. Her eyes were puffed and almost swollen shut. Her nose was obviously broken, nostrils clotted with blood, set off-center. Her mouth was twisted almost into a grin, lips cracked and bleeding.

Josef had lowered the bar and its chains to Saber's chest level. The Colonel reached for one of the chains. He snapped the end of the chain to the eyelet of one hook. He repeated the process with the other chain, the other hook.

"Prop her up, Karl," Saber said.

Standing at the girl's head, Karl squatted and slipped his hands underneath her armpits; he tugged her body upward and shuffle walked forward.

Marta found herself in a partial sitting position. Her back was propped against Karl's knees. The German soldier held her, secure.

Saber stepped to straddle Marta's body, facing toward Karl. Saber squatted, the ass of his trousers hovering above the cum and blood-drenched hair on the girl's pussy. He nodded toward Josef by the wall. Josef lowered the bar, chains and hooks farther. Saber caught the hooks in his hands. He held them for Marta to see.

"You might as well tell us what we want to know," he said and moved the metal hooks so that the light from the bare bulbs reflected in the polished steel. "We'll soon have both your parents and your sister. If you don't talk, they will."

That told Marta one thing. So far, her parents and sister were still safe. Had they come back to the apartment and seen the cars? Had they seen her being dragged away? Had they fled? To freedom? Where was there freedom? Hitler's men were everywhere. There were so few havens for the Jews anymore; none of them close at hand. This enemy Colonel was probably right. They probably would capture her parents. They probably would capture her sister. Marta shuddered, not at her own pain and anguish, but at what would soon become of those she loved.

"Names, please," Saber said. When Marta didn't answer, he sat his ass even nearer her cunt. He dropped both of his knees to the floor, holding her lower body encased between his bent legs. He nodded for Karl to hold the girl's arms.

Karl caught first one of Marta's arms and then the other, pulling them straight back behind her body. He put a knee in the small of her back. The girl's ribcage thrust forward.

With his left hand, Saber reached out to palm Marta's right tit. The flesh was warm, full-blown. With his right hand he brought the sharp end of one hook over and into place. The point touched the pink flesh on the underbelly of Marta's right breast.

"Names?" Saber asked again. When Marta didn't answer, Saber stuck her tit with the barbed point. With persistent pressure, he drove the point inward and upward, feeding more of the curved metal into yielding flesh.

Marta thought there could be no greater pain than that she'd already endured. She was wrong. The searing jolt of agony now sun-bursting from her right tit to the rest of her body was unbearable in its extreme. All her eyes registered were staccato flashes of bright red. She threw her head back, her throat taut with stretched tendons. She opened her mouth to scream, but she couldn't seem able to make any sounds. Her lips moved; her tongue lolled.

Saber kept force-feeding the hook into the tit until the barbed point of the hook blossomed with a spouting of blood through the top of the creamy breast. Blood oozed outward from the emerging point, drooling over the upper curvature of pale flesh. Beneath his butt, Saber could feel the woman's body jerking like a fish out of water. He adjusted the lay of his cock against his left leg. His cock was hard, very hard.

Saber recognized the symptoms of upcoming unconsciousness in a victim: the glazed eyes, the drooling mouth, and the slack facial features. He retrieved an ampoule from the pocket of his uniform and cracked it beneath Marta's nose.

The pain-numbed girl inhaled the released fumes. She took the foul smell deeply into her lungs and choked on it. She felt herself returning to greater awareness. She helplessly fought to retain the unconscious state into which she had, but moments before, been slipping. At least, while closed in by complete blackness, she had been temporarily relieved of the pain.

Pleeeeease!" Marta whined; her voice sounded like a siren running down. Her head fell forward on her neck. For a brief instant, she saw the blood-smeared steel sticking free of her creamy jug. She puked green and red bile over her tits. The mess drooled down and over belly.

"Names?" Saber insisted. He now hoped that she wouldn't give the names -- not yet. Even if she did, he didn't know whether or not he'd stop what he was doing. After all, Josef and Karl had had their fun. It was now the Colonel's turn.

Names? Marta wondered what names. Who was she, for that matter? Who was this smirking man dressed in black? Why couldn't she move her arms or legs? Why was she sick to her stomach? Why did she ache? What was that wicked looking thing peaked through the flesh of her right breast?

Colonel Saber took the second metal hook, suspended from its chain at the opposite end of the bar. He hefted the bulk of Marta's left tit with his left hand. He put the barbed point to the juncture of the tit and the woman's ribcage. He exerted pressure. The hook punctured the flesh. An oozing of new blood exited the puncture, steamed down the woman's belly and disappeared amid the blood and puke-smeared hair at Marta's crotch.

Marta passed out, dropping into welcomed oblivion. She smelled the fumes of another smashed ampoule and actually managed -- momentarily -- to resist the drug's efforts to revive her. It was so peaceful in the void into which she'd successfully slipped. Was death as peaceful?

Colonel Saber remained diligent in his efforts to bring the girl around. He'd had enough experience to know that, even if the young woman thought she had reached the limits of her endurance, she was wrong. In the end, his efforts were rewarded.

Marta's eyelids fluttered and then shot open to reveal her glassy stare. Her pupils were dilated. She choked on the last remaining ampoule-released fumes.

"How nice of you to decide to re-join the party," Colonel Saber said, smiling. "We really missed you, there, for awhile."

Marta, her chin drooped, could see the barbs poked through both tits. He'd double-gaffed her like two fisherman landing a tuna.

Oh, why couldn't she just die?

"Handcuff her hands, Karl," Colonel Saber said.

Karl unfastened the pair of cuffs from his belt loop and proceeded to do as he'd been told. He cuffed Marta's hands behind her back and, then, released all support.

For long, uncountable seconds, Marta felt the weight of her upper body supported only by the two hooks stuck through her jugs. Her punctured mammary tissue began to rip. She screamed. She screamed again.

Josef, by the wall, gave more slack to the rope. Marta was allowed to collapse from sitting position to supine. She fell back onto her bound hands, smashing them beneath her. The chains went to piles of collapsed metal links on her shoulders. The metal bar came to rest on her neck, tipping to one side as it did so. The metal, as the end touched the floor, echoed a metallic noise.

Colonel Saber had temporarily ceased his interrogation. He had personal needs that needed satisfying. He began unbuttoning the fly of his uniform trousers.

Karl took his cue. He walked around the Colonel and the girl to Marta's feet. He squatted and took hold of Marta's ankles.

Colonel Saber pulled his cock and accompanying balls from his uniform. His was a big and powerful cock, glutted with blood, slippery with its pre-cum goo. Its corona was completely shot free of its foreskin. The excess skin had become a mass of wrinkled turtlenecking around the flaring edge of the glans. The cock meatus was long, deep, and slightly off-center. The hole was pink, beaded with a pooling of translucent juice. The cock neck was latticed with large and twisting veins that trailed blue lines along the otherwise startling whiteness of the cock shaft like dark ivy about the thick trunk of a tree.

At the base of the Colonel's cock roots, sprouting free of the trouser fly, was a bushing of trimmed and neatly clipped pubic hair. The Colonel's bull-like balls were shaved hairless.

Saber maneuvered his legs in between Marta's thighs. Karl, at the girl's ankles, pulled Marta's legs apart. Simultaneously, he kept her from kicking; although, Karl didn't think Marta much up to kicking, when you came right down to it.

Marta's hands were a cannon ball under her back. Her arms were elongated bumps on which she was forced to lie. Her head was forced back on her neck. Her neck muscles were taut. Her tits were two mounds on fire.

With a small grunt, Colonel Saber fisted the white shaft of his cock. He positioned his cock head to the velvety divide of Marta's pussy.

Marta was so caught up in her world of pain that she was completely unaware when Saber's cock drove deeply inside her.

Karl continued to hold Marta's legs secure at the woman's ankles. He kept Marta's thighs open until Saber's cock was in full-depth. Then, as if Marta's legs were the handles of a human nutcracker, Karl brought them together, clamping cunt around Saber's submerged hard cock. Saber adjusted by lifting his one leg and then the other, dropping them to the outside of Marta's body. When finished, Saber's cock was still inside the girl, but he held Marta's lower body entrapped within the vise made by his own muscular thighs.

Karl really couldn't understand what pleasure his Colonel could get out of fucking the Jew bitch in her present condition. She was obviously almost dead. Karl preferred his fucks to have a bit more life in them. But, then, this scene always seemed to be just what the Colonel needed to get his rocks off. Go figure! Different strokes for different folks.

Marta bucked her hips. The action was more of a spontaneous reflex, spawned by pain, than it was from any pleasure in, or rebellion against, Saber's fucking cock.

Saber curled his hands under the small of Marta's back. He moved his fingers upward. His fingers folded up and over her shoulders near her neck. He held to her, his hips fucking with short, rabbity punches. He enjoyed the way his hard cock moved in her pussy. He liked the way his cock stirred up the female juices and the stale spunk left up her hole by Josef and Karl's previous explosions.



Marta couldn't believe it when somewhere out of the agony there emerged the faintest flicker of pleasure. She pinched her eyes tightly shut, sure that she'd gone completely mad. What kind of pleasure could she possibly find in any of this?

Saber brought his hips downward, hard. Once again, the man's burgeoning cock rammed home up the pussy. He humped up his hips and then fucked back into her again. Another screwing stroke forced a flood of sticky juice out of Marta's crack. The mess wet Saber's smooth balls and turned his trousers crotch dark with moisture.

Marta smelled of stale sex and blood. The aroma was an aphrodisiac to the man. It made Saber pump his turgid penis even faster. He felt the sharp jolt of electricity tingling his manhood from its glans to its roots.

Colonel Saber screwed Marta for all he was worth. From the sidelines, Josef watched, awaiting his cue.

Karl now stood to one side. He busily rubbed the bulge his hard-on made beneath his trousers. Maybe fucking the bitch, now, wasn't such a bad idea after all. At least, it would be something. Even a half dead Jewess pig could probably get Karl's cock, in its present state of excitement, to let loose its load.

Marta somehow realized she was being fucked. The realization came to her on a breath of ecstasy more and more evident within her hurricane of pain. Yes, there was cock in her crotch. The cock neck rubbed her tender clitoris. The thick cock column massaged her pussy lips, those same pussy lips previously made raw by the slicing mutilations of the Colonel's knife blade. Pulpy cock glans battered every inch of her guts.

Saber's heavy hips again mashed against Marta's cunt. His heavy chest again crushed the girl beneath it. His face burrowed into the sweaty cleavage formed by Marta's hooked jugs. The mammary crease was stained with blood; the smell was sweet to Saber's nostrils.

The rising heat within Marta's cunt made Marta's hips move automatically. The responding movement had nothing to do with any impulses received from her brain. These were received from some more primitive nerve center within her. Somewhere, somehow, a surging of new life came into her body, spawned by the pleasure taking root up her cunt. For Marta who had, just moments before, thought herself blessedly near death, this reprieve wasn't welcome.

Saber pulled his cock out until the ridge around its glans tugged at the mouth of Marta's vagina.

Marta helplessly sobbed. Every new glide of Saber's hard meat against her cervix brought her back farther from the brink of death. Marta resented the return. She didn't want to come back. She wanted the eternal peace that death would give her. Why was she being betrayed by her female body?

Colonel Saber was all the way in Marta's cunt -- again. The sheer force of his entering thick prick had concaved the young woman's cunt sleeve. Her ass had begun additional responses, moving now in small circles. All Jew bitches were alike. No matter what the circumstances, they loved cock. They absolutely idolized it. That was probably why it was so hard to stamp out the bastard Jews. They fucked like rabbits, pregnant wombs constantly spewing out their deluge of inferior beings to populate the world.



The swelling pleasure in her belly ballooned farther. Marta rocked atop her arms and bound hands. Her nipples chafed on the coarse material of the Colonel's uniform. Her belly was scratched raw by the opened teeth of the Colonel's crotch zipper. Her in-movement butt was ground against the hard floor.

Marta was sweating. The salty oozing poured into the opened wounds made by the whipping she had received upon her first introduction to Colonel Saber. How many hours ago had that been? It seemed an eternity.

Mata's cunt oozed more juice. Her inner thighs were flooded with a new running of fluid each time Saber's cock pumped out of the sexual slot.

Marta was breathing heavily. She was more and more aware of the pistoning dick within her cunt mouth. She was furious as to how the fucking wasn't just painful. It should have been painful! Saber was not a tender lover. He was a sadistic rapist. He was battering Marta's cunt with his cock not to give her even a modicum of pleasure, but because he used her pussy sleeve merely to jack off his swollen Nazi penis.

Saber had pretty much reached fever pitch. His body was soaked with his sweat, on the inside of his uniform, and with Marta's blood and sweat, on the outside.

It wouldn't be long now before Marta pussy thoroughly ruptured the Colonel's nuts. Saber knew that. Anticipating his orgasmic finale only got him hotter. As a direct result, he pumped harder. He drove his cock up Marta's crack like an army battering down the doors of an enemy castle.

"Pig!" Saber grunted. "Goddamned, fucking, Jewess, pig!"

Josef waited by the wall and knew it wouldn't be long now. He nodded for Karl to join him.

On the walk over, Karl continued, with one hand, to massage his cock bulged within his pants. He put his free hand to the rope already held by Josef.

Saber was really caught up in the fuck. He pumped totally out of control, having forgotten what the two soldiers and Marta, were doing in the room with him -- except as assumed instruments purely to satiate his own building lust. His cock humped faster. His meat swelled larger. His scrotum contracted to such possessive snugness around his testicles that the curvature of each nut became well-defined witness to the ocean of cum awaiting within for spurted pearly release.

"Pig sticking!" Saber grunted. "I'm... fucking... a... goddamned... pig! Sticking it... sticking it... sticking it!"

Karl quit playing with his bulged erection, both of his hands now devoted to the rope. Joseph and he pulled down. The bar on the other end of the rope, as a direct result, was lifted off Marta's neck, the chains went taut, the hooks lifted Marta by her tits.

Saber continued fucking, holding on for dear life. His arms clamped hard along the young woman's back. His fingers squeezed Marta's shoulders.

Karl and Josef kept pulling. They elevated Marta completely off the floor. Saber went along for the ride. The Colonel and his victim were both suspended by the hooks anchored in and through Marta's ripping tits.

Saber wrapped his legs around Marta, his cock continuing to deliver penetrating punches to the woman's groin.

"Aaaaoooeoeiiiiii!" Marta screamed. There was no longer any pleasure left for her. The pain was back in multiple denominations. There wasn't a piece of her that wasn't pulsing with agony. The tissues in her breasts ripped farther. More blood oozed the puncture wounds. She didn't even feel Saber's hard cock jettisoning his warm sperm deep into her guts. She didn't even feel the warm-wet wash of hot-milk ocean that basted her pussy membranes and draped them with opaque strings of Nazi cum.

Saber, though, felt his pleasure in a big way. He hung to Marta's suspended body like a greedy monkey to a rare bunch of bananas. His hands and arms clung to her swinging form. His legs scissored just below her butt. His cock poked deep up her cunt and continued coughing up his spermal load.

Josef and Karl maintained their weight to the other end of the rope, keeping Marta and Saber lifted. They held tightly, waiting for their Colonel to finish depositing his cum up the undeserving receptacle.

Even after Saber did finally finish, however, he continued to enjoy the slow swing of Marta and his bodies. Finally, reluctantly, he unhooked his legs and dropped to the floor. His fat cock popped free of the pussy and dragged with it a pink mixture of Saber, Karl, and Josef's spent cum, mingled with Marta's blood. The mess ran the insides of Marta's thighs.

Saber wobbled. He didn't bother stuffing his cock or his balls immediately back into his pants. He wanted the Jewish whore to take a good look at the phallic weapon that had just provided such fierce cummy cannon-shots so deeply within her. It was an honor she doubtlessly couldn't appreciate fully, but it was an honor for her nevertheless to have had untainted German prick, Saber's untainted German prick, rammed up her tainted Jewish pussy.

With Saber's weight removed from the one end of the rope, Karl and Josef easily managed to tie off their end to a convenient attending wall bracket. When the two soldiers finally let go, they left Marta hanging by the two hooks. Her feet not touching the floor, Marta swung in a nonexistent breeze. Her head was bowed. She looked dead. However, Saber knew she wasn't. Marta, after all, wasn't the first Jewess to swing, thus, from this ceiling. Saber had a wealth of past experience on which to draw.



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About the author...

William Maltese is the internationally best-selling author of over one-hundred published books, including gay and straight erotica, horror, science-fiction/fantasy, mystery, romance, adventure-espionage and western, writing under either his own name or one or more of his many pseudonyms.

 

 
Born and raised in the Pacific Northwest, Mr. Maltese is a WHO'S WHO IN AMERICA-listed author and has been deemed by one German mainstream critic as a "Grandmaster of the Mystery Genre." His books have been translated into over twelve foreign languages. Over the years, he's also contributed fiction and non-fiction to many of the major gay and straight magazines.

For his complete biography, visit his web site, where  Mr. Maltese has painstakingly compiled a complete listing of all works, including the now-collectible, gay pulp fiction series published by Greenleaf Classics in the 1970's. This and more can be viewed at

www.williammaltese.com



About the story...

Written and shelved by the author as perhaps too disturbing, The Nazi Death-Head Files collected dust for many years, until Mr. Maltese happened upon the Jardonn web site. Here, he felt an audience existed for this tragic, yet somehow uplifting and mysteriously erotic tale.

This is the first-ever public presentation of The Nazi Death-Head Files, which is now available in paperback. Its Amazon link, along with just a few more of the author's many titles are featured back on the main William Maltese page of our site. Written by William Maltese, all copyrights belong to him and no reproduction is legal without his permission.

We here at Jardonn's are pleased to have been asked, and are proud to bring you the first chapter of this bone-chilling, bone-producing story.  

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