War Wounds
Patrick Callaghan wearily raised his head and shifted his aching bones a little as a ray of light shone into his cell as the door swung open with a loud creak. His flying jacket seemed to weigh a ton as he started to struggle to his feet and he groaned as some of his many bruises gave a twinge. He had been lucky to escape alive from his Lancaster when it had been shot down after carrying out a bombing trip over Germany the night before but he was not looking forward to being shut up in a prison camp for however long it took the Allies to win the war.
Patrick stretched his tall frame up as a German officer, immaculately dressed, stepped into the small cell and saluted sharply. He snapped a salute back and then waited while the thin faced officer observed him through tired blue eyes.
“You are Squadron Leader Patrick Callaghan,12987645?”he inquired, reading the details from a buff piece of card.
“I am indeed,” replied Callaghan with a small smile as he reminded himself not to give any more details than his name, rank and number. He waited in resignation to be told that he was going to be taken to a prison camp somewhere and looked around the cell ready to bid it farewell. He had been hustled in there after being captured by two old men and a young boy as he was still wrestling with his parachute cords and then he had been quickly searched and all his potentially useful items such as a pocket compass and some German Reichsmarks had been removed, probably disappearing into someone’s pockets, he reflected ruefully.
“Normally you would be treated as a prisoner of war,” snapped the German officer suddenly and Patrick’s attention fastened on him sharply, “but, owing to circumstances beyond my control, you are going to be handed over to the Gestapo for a little chat first. For some reason your name caused a stir in the higher echelons of the Gestapo and someone has come down specially to meet you.”
Patrick felt his face whiten and his heart thumped quicker, adrenaline flooding through him, as he heard the word Gestapo.
“What do you mean? What’s going on?” he queried and then another German, dressed in black leather, entered the room and he fell silent, suddenly unnerved by this new presence.
“Squadron Leader Callaghan, it is my task to interrogate you and I am sure that you will be delighted to give me the answers that I am looking for before I have finished with you!” she snapped fluently in English, piercing blue eyes burning into him. “The Reich considers that you will have much to tell us about your planes and the way the raids over our cities are organised and it is my job to pry that information out of you.”
“I will only give you my name, rank and number,” retorted Patrick angrily, raising himself up to his full height threateningly and therefore towering over the diminutive figure who stood there and observed him coolly. He wondered where she had learnt her impeccable English and just for a second she seemed familiar as he saw her profile but then the moment passed as she turned and spoke again.
“That is what they all say, Squadron Leader, but once I, Sturmbannfuhrer Irma Gessler, get to work then they change their tune very quickly,” she stated as she turned away and barked out some orders.
Not me, thought Patrick, but he stayed silent as his hands were cuffed by a guard and he was marched out into the rain and then shoved into the back of a small van. The drive lasted about half an hour and then the van rumbled over a metal grid and screeched to a sudden halt. He was dragged out by an armed guard and frogmarched through a dizzying maze of grey painted corridors before being roughly thrown into another cell; one that was even smaller than the previous one.
He did not have to wait for long though before Gessler appeared flanked by a guard and he was escorted just a short way down the passage and into a large room which was strewn with odd looking pieces of equipment. He shivered slightly at the dark currents that seemed to flow through the room and swallowed nervously as his cuffed hands were raised above his head and tied to a ring in the wall and his feet were cuffed to rings in the floor before the guard left him alone with the sturmbannfuhrer. She took her uniform cap off to reveal honey-blonde hair tightly done up in a bun and then she stepped nearer, revealing shapely calves beneath her knee length black leather skirt. He glanced nervously at the riding crop that was in her left hand as she spoke.
“It is such a delight to have a new subject to work on, Patrick. I do get bored very easily and so the chance to break a British airman is a new and exciting challenge for me and one I don’t intend to fail at as my superiors are waiting for results.”
She reached out and touched his chest with the tip of the crop and he tried to move away, inching back against the stone wall and feeling its coldness chill his back.
“I demand that you treat me properly according to the Geneva Convention,” he stammered as she moved the crop down across his stomach and tapped him lightly. Suddenly the switch whipped across his cheek and he yelled in surprise and pain.
“You demand nothing in this place, worm,” she snapped furiously, blue eyes blazing at him and she hit him again, scarring the other cheek with a red weal. ”I decide what happens and when down here and the sooner you learn that lesson the better!”
Irma watched the shock register on his face at her words and she gave a little laugh at the thought of the man, a product of the English public school system as she knew, being at her mercy, just as she had prayed for so long. She stepped right up to him and looked into his green eyes as her fingers began to undo the buttons on his shirt and she soon had the garment looped back over his shoulders, baring his broad chest and flat stomach. A thin line of dark hair traced its way up from his trouser waistband to his navel while his pink nipples had erected slightly in the cold. She touched the crop to one and watched his eyes flicker as she tapped it harder and his breath hissed softly. She moved away from him and aimed carefully and struck the nipple hard, searing the delicate tissue and revelling in his stifled scream. She played with his flesh, teasing him with sharp stinging blows that whipped across his chest and stomach, leaving faint red lines behind them while he could only stand and suffer. Minutes passed and he squirmed uncomfortably away from the fearsome crop, trying to escape the remorseless stinging and so he was mightily relieved when she put down the weapon.
His relief turned to consternation and apprehension when her fingers began to unfasten his trouser buttons and then slid down the blue material, passing dangerously close to his cock en route. He gulped as she stroked his bare thighs and he felt himself react almost involuntarily to her feathery touches on his skin. Irma stepped back, chuckling as she noticed the bulge in his drawers then picked the crop back up and began to chastise the tender thighs that she had just been stroking. Patrick winced in pain as the first blow landed and seared his flesh and he bit back a cry determinedly, looking up at the grey ceiling as he tried to hold himself together.
“You can stop this at any time by telling me some information. How vital can it be to the war if you tell us which airfield you came from for example?” she asked inquiringly as she struck on alternate thighs and watched him writhe in pain.
He kept his mouth tightly shut, afraid that if he started to talk then he would not be able to stop.
“No? Then I will have to try slightly more severe methods, squadron leader. A pleasure for me because I will enjoy your screams but I fear that the enjoyment will be limited to just me!”
Irma licked her lips eagerly as she considered what she could do to him to have him kneeling at her feet, begging her for mercy; something which had been denied to her when she along with her sister had been in England learning the language.
Her lips parted and he looked down into her cerulean orbs and saw the twisted soul within as her pink tongue flickered out like a snake’s. He felt fear flood into him, heart thumping and throat dry as he waited for her to carry out her threat. She pulled out a folded square of black silk from her pocket and shook it out and then stepped up to him and reached up and placed the hood over his head. The light disappeared and he suddenly felt even more vulnerable as his view was totally extinguished and then he froze as he felt her hands grab his balls through the thin cotton of his drawers and she began to squeeze, making his mouth open in a silent scream as the agony raced into him. Her tinkling laugh grated in his ears, half-muffled by the silken hood, as she released him and he managed to gasp in a quick breath before her fingers slid under the waistband of his drawers and started to remove them.
Irma watched the fat shaft of his penis loll against his thigh, semi-turgid while the heavy ball sac swung underneath, still red from her gentle squeezing, she laughed to herself, as she admired the promise of his manhood, keen to tease it into full erection and then to torment it until the man knelt at her feet willingly and gave her his soul and his secrets. Men-so easy to please and so easy to control, she thought dismissively. Brains located in their cock! She clipped a ring around his balls, making them bulge out and watching the hairy skin redden to a light purple as the blood built up inside, constricted by the tight ring. To a hoop that hung off the ring she applied some weights, hooking them on and letting them suddenly drop so he uttered a squeal as his sac was tugged sharply downwards. She picked up her crop again and began to idly strike his taut sac with the end, hearing him howl with agony as she beat his balls and then started on his flaccid cock when she got bored. The pain made him swell and she watched his shaft lengthen and the glans slide out of his foreskin as she whipped the crop across him, delaying the blows until he had begun to relax and then striking hard and fast.
Patrick could do nothing but squeal and cry and wriggle with the agony that suffused his senses as his balls throbbed and then his cock under the pitiless lash of his tormentor. The hood made it worse as he could never tell where or when the next blow would come and therefore prepare himself however slightly to face the agony. In shock, he felt himself harden and thicken and then he felt her hands enclose his girth and gently slide up and down his shaft. Such pleasure after the pain was exquisite and he strained towards her hands, eager to slide himself into her soft palm as his glans grew purple and glistened with his clear precome. Deep down in his mind he felt degraded and humiliated by the ease with which she had aroused him but he could not prevent his prick pressing forward into her hands as she slicked his moisture around his knob and made him groan with her skilful teasing. He was rock hard now and his cock bobbed proudly upwards when she released it, a good nine inches of straining manhood that she slipped a wide ring on and began to tighten it until it bit into his erection painfully. His engorged shaft throbbed like mad and then he felt it pulled sharply down as the ring was hooked into the one that encased his balls.
Irma looked at the pulsating prick and gave the shiny head a pat which caused him to groan before she attached a leash to the cock ring as well and then released his hands and feet from the wall before cuffing his hands behind his back. He stumbled towards her and she jerked the leash and he howled in agony at the excruciating pain and she smiled at her mastery of his body as the pain raced round his senses. She removed his shirt and flung it away and then amused herself by taking him for a walk, making him shuffle along behind her as she pulled the lead. Irma felt herself moisten, her regulation grey knickers soaking with her juices as she controlled the man with the lead and she slipped her hand up her thigh, under the hem of her short leather skirt and stroked her shaven quim. The slippery heat pulsed against her finger and she thrust it inside her, eager to be filled as she looked down at Patrick’s mighty cock bulging helplessly in the tight ring. She licked her lips and knew that she had to have him to satisfy her craving for revenge as well as for the pure sexual frustration that raged through her. She jerked the leash sharply and brought him down to his knees then pushed him on to his back so that the cold stone floor chilled his back. It was the work of a moment to remove her knickers and then she straddled his thighs and lowered herself until she could feel the heat of his prick radiating up to her soft folds.
Patrick felt her weight descend on his body and then came the tantalising softness of her quim lips opening for him and enclosing around his bulging glans before she slid down his long pole and he squealed as the tight ring chafed his shaft. She raised and lowered her hips slowly then more quickly and he felt her muscles squeeze him tightly, sucking him into her and then releasing him as she panted above him, dripping wetness onto his naked belly. His cock seemed to enlarge even more and the pain became excruciating as he needed release and the poetry of his seed spurting out into her and yet the ring stopped him coming. He was left on the edge, nearly going out of his mind as she used him like a sex toy, rubbing herself up and down his length until finally she came.
Irma felt herself shudder as she climaxed and her internal membranes pulsed around his thickness rhythmically as her trickling juices drained out of her and pooled around the base of his prick, dampening down the wiry pubic hair. She lifted herself off his cock with an obscene sucking sound and then she slapped it hard, from one side to another, eager to cause him pain as the huge head throbbed and jerked in his desperate quest to spill his seed. That would never be, she sneered silently to herself as she ground her heel down into his bulging ball sac and heard him scream…unless she desired it.
Angrily she jerked him up on to his feet and led him over to a small table then pushed him down onto it and fastened his hands out in front of him to rings in the wall. She stepped back and looked at the lean cheeks of his arse then picked up a cane and swished it through the air, practising her swing before she placed the tip against his white flesh and ran it across his skin.
“Now I am sure that this sort of pain won’t come as any great shock to you as an ex-public schoolboy,” she laughed as he tried to move his buttocks away from the tip that was scratching his skin. “And then, who knows…afterwards perhaps I will treat you to something else you English schoolboys are meant to have experienced!”
Callaghan heard the light whistle of the cane as it swished through the air and then a sharp stinging pain invaded his senses and he was transported back to his early days at school when he had suffered the indignity of being chastised. Then it had at least been across his trousers but now the pain felt even worse especially as his cock was rubbing uncomfortably against the wooden table with each beat of his heart and with each swipe of the rod. He gritted his teeth and tried to control the agony but it continued to build as she wielded the cane expertly, creating a series of parallel red weals that traced their way from top to bottom of his arse.
Irma admired her handiwork and stopped for a moment after the twelfth stroke to run her fingers over the welts, enjoying the heat that radiated into her flesh and the raised surface. She picked up the cane again and gave him six hard and fast strokes and for the first time she elicited a cry, beating it out of his mouth as the pain became too much for him to bear silently. She smiled and continued with six more strokes; a rapid tattoo beaten into his helpless flesh while his bottom and hips jerked madly in a futile attempt to escape the pain. She caressed his well-muscled thighs with the rod and heard his howls increase as the tender flesh was marked with six then twelve red tramlines before she laid the cane down.
Patrick could not stop the whimpers or the tears as she thrashed him and the end was a blessed relief as he struggled to master himself once again only to freeze in absolute terror as he felt her fingers part his arse cheeks and delve into his tight crack. Again he was taken back to his days at school when he had been a fag to one of the prefects and the older boy had tried to take him. Then he had resisted and finally the boy had let him go but now….he shivered as her finger penetrated him, pushing deep inside his tight hole then sliding in and out in a parody of sex. A second squirmed through his sphincter and then they rotated and thrust inside him and suddenly he could not help but work his way back onto them a little further as she massaged his prostate gland and the most incredible sensations seethed through him. She swiftly pulled her fingers out and wiped them disdainfully on his wealed arse and he sighed with relief and yet with disappointment at being left bereft and empty.
Irma raised an eyebrow inquiringly as her captive pushed himself back onto her fingers before she withdrew them and walked across to the other side of the room and picked out a fearsomely large anal plug made from hard black rubber. She decided it was time to remove his hood and let him see what she had and his eyes widened in fear as she pushed the rubber up against his mouth.
“A little toy for you, my dear squadron leader. Perhaps the insertion of this will make your mouth open wider and be keener to talk to me rather than just scream? Not that I care much as I am having an enjoyable time. Now you would be wise to be generous with your spittle as that is the only lubricant that this is going to get!”
Patrick gasped as he felt the hard rubber press against his lips but he recognised the truth in her words and so he opened wide, feeling thoroughly demeaned, and accepted the wide plug into his mouth. She thrust it in and out hard, bruising his lips and making him choke as it touched the back of his throat while she continued to talk.
“You don’t seem to be very good at this. Perhaps all those stories we hear about your schools aren’t true after all? Perhaps you will wish they were when this is driving up inside you?”
She pulled it out and then vanished from his sight and he tensed as he felt the large bulbous head press against his puckered anus. There was nothing that he could do to protect himself and he wept tears of abasement as she steadily pushed and he felt his ring roll back, spreading wider and wider, sending shooting stars of pain through him until the head popped inside. That was almost a relief as his anal muscles could relax slightly but then she pressed again and the rest of the long, thick plug began to squirm up into his bowels, buggering him for the first time. He felt his erection jerk and pulse with pain and pleasure and precome dribbled steadily from his tiny slit, staining the wooden tabletop and he gave a great sigh as the last bit slid into him and his stretched sphincter closed around the base.
Irma stood back and stared at the widespread arse cheeks and the black plug that protruded obscenely from in between and listened avidly to his deep groans. Again she could sense that there was some tiny bit of him that was enjoying the deep despair that he had been driven into and she walked round and stared into his sea-green eyes now clouded with bitter tears.
“I am going to leave you now to have a good think about things, Patrick. Maybe I will return in a couple of hours or maybe I will send someone else…a nice, strapping guard perhaps?”
The eyes reacted to that, a hint of panic flaring as she continued.
“I wonder what he would do to you seeing you like this?”
As she finished speaking she replaced the silken hood and covered him back in darkness, a bleakness matched by the despair in his soul as he lay there waiting, anticipating what would happen to him next.
|
