0 comments/ 16509 views/ 28 favorites When the Hammer Falls By: Seanathon He stumbled in the darkness, picking his way through the stand of birch trees. Leaning against one of the pale trunks, he paused, hands on his knees, and tried to catch his breath. A black sedan crawled down the road, and he threw himself flat on the cold, hard ground as they combed the woods with a handheld searchlight. As the beam sliced past him, he could see his breath suspended in the cold night air. But the SS troopers hadn't spotted him, and they drove away down the road to continue the hunt. He lay on the frozen forest floor, too exhausted to stand. He was surprised the Nazis had found his abandoned motorcycle so soon, and wondered if they'd discovered the driver's corpse. He wanted to close his eyes, wanted to rest his aching body, but even though he'd already come so far, he knew he had so much farther to go before he could sleep. He forced himself to his feet and brushed the dirt and the dried, yellow birch leaves from his dark suit. As he reached the edge of the woods, he saw the lights of the village he'd sought in the distance. Watching to see if there were any sentries on the streets, he rubbed the stubble on his face and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. "Cal," he thought, "first thing you're gonna do when you're safely back in England is get a hot shave and a haircut." Cal adjusted his uniform jacket, which had been altered so he appeared to be a civilian, and slicked his dirty hair back, trying to make himself invisible as he entered the German-occupied village. He moved like a shadow through the quiet, cobblestone streets until he reached the church, its steeple towering above the small town. "Why couldn't my contact have been a priest," he thought, "it would've made things so much easier." Using the church as a waypoint, he followed the street it was on until he found the building he'd been searching for. When he saw the three troopers smoking in front, he wondered again why his contact had to be in a brothel, of all places. He waited and watched the soldiers, thankful that they were Wehrmacht and not the SS goons hunting him. A dark-haired woman dressed in a three-quarter-length skirt with a thigh-high slit and a half-buttoned blouse strolled out of the building and asked one of the soldiers for a cigarette. She was offered three and took one. While waiting for a light, one of the soldiers tried to grab her breast and she slapped his hand away. As his companions laughed, she took him by the hand and led all three of them back inside. Hoping it would seem less conspicuous than sneaking in the back door, Cal casually walked in the front like any other paying customer. As soon as he did he wondered if he'd made a fatal mistake. The bar was littered with German soldiers and prostitutes; he was the only civilian in the place. But, to his surprise, none of the troopers took a second glance at him; they were preoccupied by plenty of beer, tits and ass. He sat at a table by the back wall and waited as the bartender warily eyed him before heading his way. Cal wondered if this was his contact. But then the front door opened and three men strode in -- he knew immediately they were SS. The leader wore a black leather greatcoat over his uniform and Cal could see the silver death's head on his peaked cap. They signaled to the bartender and he hurried over to them. Cal knew it was all over; there would be no more escapes. When he'd crawled in the dark through the narrow tunnel, he'd promised himself that he'd never allow them to put him back behind that barbed-wire fence. And he intended to keep his promise. He scanned the bar looking for an untended weapon, wondering how many of the bastards he could take with him. Suddenly, a steely grip seized his shoulder. A German sergeant, with his suspenders down and his gray tunic unbuttoned so that his undershirt showed, glared at him. "You will come with me," the sergeant slurred in German, and pulled him to his feet. Before Cal could protest, he was dragged upstairs toward the second floor. He stumbled along, knowing it was the sergeant or the SS. "Where are we going?" he asked in his best German. "Your Deutsch is terrible," the drunken sergeant said, "but it's better than my Norwegian." He laughed and slapped Cal hard on the back. Cal was thankful he remembered any German at all. He'd spoken it with his grandparents when he was a boy, as they'd refused to learn English even after they'd emigrated. But they'd died when he was young and his German had faded along with his memories of them. However, it was amazing what a stay in a stalag could do as a refresher course. "What is your name?" "Hammerschmied." Cal lied, giving the original German version of his last name. "But they call me Hammer." The sergeant threw open a door, walked into the room, grabbed a bottle of aquavit from the side table, took a deep swig and handed it to Cal. He took the bottle, but was far more interested in the dark-haired, doe-eyed girl lying naked on the bed and watching them. "I need your help, Hammer," the sergeant said. "I hope you hold your liquor better than my friend." He pointed to a passed out corporal, wearing only his underwear, facedown on the floor on the far side of the bed. The sergeant took off his tunic and unbuttoned his trousers. "I paid her for myself and my friend but, now that he has had too much to drink, she will not give me my money back. So you will take my friend's place and fuck her for him." "How old is she?" Cal asked the sergeant, as he watched him remove his holster. "I am eighteen," she said in French, before he could answer. "Bah, enough talk!" The sergeant climbed naked on the bed and playfully slapped the girl's tiny ass. As he hung his Luger from a chair on the far side of the bed, the sergeant tried to focus his blurry eyes on Cal. "What are you waiting for?" Cal undressed and listened as the SS banged on a door down the hall; a woman screamed as they entered and searched the room. Once he was naked, he turned toward the bed as the young girl stared wide-eyed at his huge erection. "Now I know why they call you Hammer!" the sergeant laughed. "Let me go first, before you ruin her!" He grabbed her legs and dragged her across the mattress toward him. He rubbed the helmet-shaped head of his cock against the dark thatch of hair between her legs, and when he pressed forward the tender lips of her pussy parted easily for him. As he pumped his stiff shaft in and out of her wet hole, he reached a hand out and squeezed her small breast, feeling her erect nipple pressed against the palm of his hand. The girl let out a soft moan on every one of the sergeant's thrusts. As he fucked her, she looked up at Cal and whispered something in French. When he didn't understand, she reached out, wrapped her small hand around his thick cock and pulled him closer. Cal kneeled on the bed beside her and felt the warmth of her tongue as she licked the underside of his cock. She wrapped her lips around the knob and started sucking on it, and he laced his fingers through her hair and slowly pumped his swollen shaft between her lips. She had a tiny mouth and Cal's huge cock was stretching it by the time he had half his length inside her. When he pressed against the back of her throat she gagged and he pulled out, his cock wet from her willing mouth. "There's one thing the French are good at," the sergeant said, as he drove himself in and out of her pussy, " they train their women well." She ignored the sergeant and focused on Cal, her tiny tongue circling the head of his cock as she pumped her cool hand along his swollen length. She tried to get more of his cock in her mouth, but gagged again and had to pull him out when he got too deep. Her spit slipped off of Cal's purple knob as she reached under and fondled his rock-hard balls. He hadn't been with a woman since that young nurse in London, weeks before his plane had been shot down. He knew he wouldn't last long. Someone hammered on the door, startling both Cal and the young French girl, but the sergeant didn't miss a stroke. He was still pumping away between her legs when the SS barged into the room. "Mein Gott! What is -- " The sergeant froze when he realized the intruders were SS troopers. The officer in the leather great coat stepped forward and calmly picked the sergeant's gray tunic up off of the floor. He rubbed the cloth between his fingers as he calmly eyed Cal and the sergeant before shifting his gaze to the Luger and second uniform draped over a chair on the far side of the bed. He took the door and pulled it toward him, as if checking to see if there was anyone behind it, but merely hung the tunic off a hook on the back of the door. Without saying a word, he signaled to the two troopers and they followed him outside, shutting the door behind them as they went down the hallway to check the next room. They hadn't noticed the passed-out corporal lying naked on the floor on the far side of the bed. "SS!" the sergeant laughed. "They don't even notice a naked girl unless she is blonde-haired and blue-eyed!" Switching positions with Cal, he wrapped his fingers through the girl's hair as he rubbed his cock all over her face before finally forcing it through her lips. Cal's heart was racing as he wondered if the SS would realize their error and return. Knowing he had no choice but to wait until they left, he walked to the far side of the bed. The sergeant tensed as he neared his Luger, but Cal reached over it and grabbed the bottle of aquavit. He took a drink and nearly choked on the foul-tasting liquor. He was still coughing, with the sergeant laughing at him, when the young girl took the bottle, easily took a huge swig and went back to sucking the sergeant's cock. "She holds her liquor better than you, Hammer!" he roared. "Let's see how she holds this," said Cal, and moved between her legs. The petite girl groaned as he plunged his thick prick into her tiny hole. He only had half his cock inside her and he could see her pussy was already as stretched as her mouth had been. He rubbed his fingers through her damp bush until he found her clit, and rubbed the little button as he slowly pumped his cock in and out of her. The sergeant was still fucking her face, and she moaned around his shaft as her pussy got stuffed. He groaned that he was going to come and, as she tried to pull away, he held her head fast while he emptied his load in her mouth. When he was spent, he backed away, cum dripping from the tip of his cock, and took another swig of aquavit as he tried to focus on the action on the bed. Cal grabbed her narrow hips and pulled her small body underneath him, while she wrapped her hands around his neck to hold on as he fucked her hard and fast. The old bed rocked back and forth, banging against the wall as her cries echoed through the room with every thrust of his thick pole. He could feel the tension, the fear and the despair that had mounted since his desperate escape melting away as he lost himself inside her. Their bodies rocked in unison as he drove his cock as deep as he could. Finally, his balls tightened and he pulled out, shooting hot cum onto her taut stomach. She grabbed his shaft and kept pumping him until he was finished, and then he collapsed beside her, both of them covered in a thin sheen of sweat and struggling to catch their breath. The sergeant saw the puddle of cum on the flat of the French girl's belly and laughed. "My friend, you need to clean your gun more often!" As the sergeant put on his uniform, the girl cleaned herself up and dressed the passed-out corporal. Throwing him over his shoulder, the sergeant staggered toward the door. "You two can share the rest of the bottle -- you have earned it!" he said, and left the room laughing and singing. The girl stretched her naked body across Cal, her firm breasts pressing against his chest as she retrieved her cigarettes from the far nightstand. She struck a match, took a deep drag and offered the smoke to Cal. He took it, and listened while she used his cigarette to light a second for herself. The SS were gone; Cal knew he had to find his contact before they returned. "Do you speak English?" he whispered. Her eyes opened wide in surprise and she nodded. "I need your help, I'm looking for a man named Max who is supposed to be here. Do you know him?" She shook her head no, but then suddenly realized who he meant and laughed. "Oh, Max! Yes, I can take you to Max." After they both dressed, she led him down the hallway and down the outside stairs to the back lane. After checking to make sure no German soldiers were nearby, she crossed the alley and knocked on the cellar door of the building opposite. From the other side of the locked door, a muffled voice questioned her in Norwegian. She whispered through the painted wood and stepped back as it opened an inch, and a cold blue eye scrutinized Cal from the depths of the doorway. The door abruptly swung open and an arm reached out and seized him by his dark jacket, dragging him into the shadows of the cellar. As the door shut behind him, the young French girl hurried back to her room and her next customer. Cal was off balance and banged the top of his head against the lintel as he was pulled into the low cellar. He clapped his hand to his skull to try to stop the pain, and when he looked up he was staring into the barrels of four rifles. "Who are you?" the man asked. "Why are you looking for Max?" Cal hesitated, hoping they were the local resistance. If they weren't, no lie would save him, so he told the truth. "My name's Calvin Hammer. I'm an American pilot with the RAF, and I've escaped from a German prison camp in Sagan. I was told to find a man named Max and that he could help me get to Sweden and to safety." "You can't be him," a woman whispered, looking like she'd seen a ghost. She lowered her rifle and picked up a folded newspaper from the table. "You're dead." Cal was speechless as he read the account: fifty prisoners shot while trying to escape. He scanned down the list of the dead and was stunned to see his own name. "They made a mistake," he said, "they've shot the wrong man. Or maybe the Gestapo is lying about it for propaganda purposes? "I'm the real Cal Hammer -- Flight Lieutenant Calvin Hammer! Can you help me?" The woman stepped closer and saw the desperation in his eyes; she knew he was telling the truth. "We can," she said, as she hugged herself against him. "I am Maxine, my friends call me Max." As they brought him food and drink, he explained the details of his long, dangerous journey to Norway. The narrow escapes, the close calls, the people who'd helped him during his flight from Germany. He told them how he'd snuck on a ship bound for neutral Sweden and his dread when he realized it was actually bound for German-occupied Norway. Now, he needed to find a way across the border to Sweden, and back to England. The partisans removed a false wall in the cellar that hid a small room with a bed in it. Cal fell into it and slept restlessly, knowing he still had many more miles to run. When he woke the next morning, Maxine was waiting at his bedside with bread and hot soup. Maxine watched Cal dip the heel of the loaf into the clear, flavorless broth. "I need a favor from you," she said. Cal knew he wasn't in a position where he could help anyone, and watched her warily. "What kind of favor?" he asked, through a mouthful of bread. "I want you to take my sister, Astrid, with you, to England." "Your sister? I don't even know if I can get myself to England." "You can, we have already made contact with the British. A plane will be landing at a hidden airstrip just over the border sometime after midnight. I want you to take her with you on the plane." "I don't know if there would be room and, even if there was, the decision would be the pilot's, not mine." "I know, but please promise me you'll try to take her with you. If you don't, she'll die." "I've been lucky to make it this far without getting killed, if I take your sister we'll both end up dead." "And what do you think will happen to me if the Gestapo learn that I helped you escape? I've risked my life for you, but you won't risk yours for me?" Cal sighed, knowing she was right. "Fine, I'll take her with me. But I ain't making any promises! Where is she?" "They are holding her captive in an SS facility on the far side of the town." He dropped the half-eaten hunk of bread into the broth. "Are you crazy? How are we supposed to rescue her from an SS prison?" She held his hand, trying to calm him down. "It's not a prison, it's a brothel. And we don't have to rescue her, I need you to help me convince another to do it for us." "And who do I have to convince?" "Wolfgang Kepler -- an officer in the SS. "Please, let me explain!" Maxine continued, as she saw the flabbergasted look on Cal's face. "My sister is being held prisoner in a brothel that is exclusively for use by the SS. She is not dark-haired like me; she has blonde hair and blue eyes and is their Aryan ideal. They have imprisoned her so they can use her to breed the future for the Third Reich. "Kepler's job is to find women for the brothel, and he often comes here looking for suitable candidates. I want to make a deal with him so that he will free Astrid and bring her here, so you can take her with you." "What kind of deal? Money?" "No, Kepler has needs of a more...sexual nature. He has agreed to have Astrid released if he can watch you and I have sex." "Why would he do that? Why would he risk everything just to watch two people fuck?" "Because," she whispered, "he believes you're my brother." "Jeezus!" Cal said, pushing his broth away. "What kind of a sick bastard would get off on watching a brother screw his sister?" Maxine took a deep breath. "I can't even begin to tell you the stories I have heard about his...tastes. Believe me when I say that his obsession with incest is the least of his perversions." "I won't do it," Cal said. "It's sick!" Maxine grabbed his face in her hands and forced him to look into her eyes. "Calvin, you're not really my brother! Don't worry about what goes on in the depths of his depraved mind while he watches us. You were under my roof less than half an hour before you were fucking Sophie, and you didn't even know her name; is it so hard to force yourself to make love to me?" Cal removed her hands. Maxine was an attractive woman; dark hair framed her beautiful face and her soft curves accentuated her full breasts. "Why would he believe I'm your brother? I don't even speak Norwegian." "He doesn't want to have an intellectual debate with you, he wants to watch you fuck your sister. I don't think he expects a lot of talking." Cal reluctantly nodded in agreement, and Maxine leaned forward and kissed him on his mouth. "But first," she said, backing away from him, "you definitely need a bath." Later that evening, Cal paced the floor of Maxine's room, feeling like a new man after finally getting a shave and a bath. It had been so long since he'd last showered, that he was sure some of the dirt he'd washed off was from the tunnel. As he butted out his fourth cigarette in the ashtray, he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. The door opened and Maxine walked in, with Wolfgang Kepler at her heels. Kepler was a toad of a man. As he removed his scarf, revealing a heavy double chin, he watched them with beady, too-close-together eyes while he nervously flicked his tongue across his thin lips. His fat fingers undid the buttons on his leather greatcoat, which was stretched tightly over his wide frame, and he placed it with his peaked cap on a hat rack in the corner of the room. He said something in Norwegian to Cal, who simply nodded in greeting. When the Hammer Falls An SS trooper was on guard outside the door, and he shut it behind them. Kepler sat on a chair and smoothed out his impeccably neat uniform, waiting for the show to begin. He spoke again in Norwegian to Cal, and laughed at his own joke while awaiting his response. "What do you expect my brother to say?" Maxine asked Kepler in German. "He thinks you are sick for forcing us to do this unnatural thing, and wanting to watch it. If he spoke, you would not like what you heard. You know you are a monster..." Kepler's eyes gleamed and a small self-satisfied smile crossed his thin lips. "Very well," he said, in a high-pitched voice, "get on with the show." Maxine and Cal stood on opposite sides of the bed, watching each other as they undressed. He admired her full breasts as she unhooked and removed her bra and her gaze drifted between his legs as he took his pants off. They climbed onto the bed together and were about to embrace when Kepler interrupted in German. "Kneel, so you are facing me," he commanded Cal. "And you, get behind him and grab his cock," he instructed Maxine. She did as told, and wrapped her hand around Cal's thick prick, jacking it toward Kepler, feeling it stiffen in her hand. Kepler took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead, his eyes never leaving Cal's naked body as Maxine reached around and stroked his hard cock. "Now suck him," he commanded, "but both of you turn sideways so I can see him in your mouth." Maxine followed his directions to a tee, kneeling in front of Cal and taking his big hammer between her lips. She sucked on his knob and then slowly slid her mouth over his shaft, making sure Kepler had an unobstructed view. He shifted in his chair as he watched the two of them, his beady eyes locked on Cal's thick pole as he pumped it in and out of Maxine's mouth. Suddenly, Kepler jumped to his feet and threw his handkerchief on the floor. "What is the meaning of this ruse?!" he cried. Maxine was startled, and pulled Cal's prick out of her mouth. "What do you mean?" "This is a ruse! No brother would penetrate his sister's mouth so willingly!" Maxine hesitated before finally answering. "You're...you're right, we lied." "I knew it!" said Kepler. "When I told you this was our first time? It isn't -- my brother has been fucking me since I was barely eighteen." Kepler's eyes gleamed as he rubbed his sweaty palms together. "With your parents in the next room? Your brother would take you?" Maxine nodded. Kepler sat back down, his hands trembling with excitement. "Show me. Show me what he would do to you while your parents slept." Maxine did as instructed, acting out the fantasy for Kepler by getting on all fours while Cal moved behind her. He brushed the head of his cock along her hairy slit and then pushed forward, parting her lips and penetrating her pussy. She gasped and clenched the sheets as he pumped his prick into her from behind. As Maxine's beautiful breasts swung back and forth while Cal pounded her from behind, Kepler watched her face. "I can see it," he whispered, "I can see the truth in your eyes! You were eighteen, innocent, not knowing how your older brother lusted for you. He snuck into your room after dark, and made you get on your knees as he forced himself into you from behind. At first it hurt, but soon, as you got used to his size, you loved it. And even after all these years, you still lust for your brother's cock!" Maxine nodded, trying to hide her disgust as she played along with Kepler's perverted fantasy. But she wasn't acting when she grunted with every one of Cals' thrusts, moaning as he filled her pussy. Cal had focused on Maxine, trying to tune Kepler out. Her ass slapped against his hips as he pistoned his cock in and out, trying to get this farce over with as soon as possible. Finally, he felt his balls tightening and knew he was going to come. Before Kepler could object, Cal pulled his cock out and shot a thick rope of cum over her ass and onto the small of her back. Maxine tried to catch her breath, looking over her shoulder as Cal coaxed the last of his cum out of his cock. "When will you bring my sister?" she asked Kepler. He picked up his handkerchief and smiled as he wiped the perspiration from his brow. "Fraulein, I promised you that I would do everything I could to help your sister, and I have. But, unfortunately, your sister does not want to leave." Maxine jumped to her feet. "What the hell are you talking about? We had a deal!" "I am sorry, but she is very happy there and does not wish to leave," he said, with a lewd smile. "You would not want me to force her to do something she does not want to, would you?" "You lying piece of filth!" Kepler's eyes narrowed as the smile left his face. "Fraulein, you would be wise to remember your tongue when speaking to an officer of the SS. Otherwise, you may lose it." Tears ran down Maxine's face as she kneeled beside the bed and grabbed her clothes, but as she stood up she pulled out a hidden pistol and leveled it at Kepler. "You'll get my sister out, or you'll get a bullet in your head." Fifteen minutes later, Kepler's staff car was rumbling down the road with Cal behind the wheel. He was dressed in the driver's SS uniform, while the driver was bound and gagged in Maxine's room. She was in the backseat with a pistol on Kepler. "This is crazy," said Cal. "We can't just drive into an SS facility. How are we supposed to get past the guard post?" Kepler opened his mouth to concur with Cal, but Maxine shut him up by pressing the muzzle of the gun against his temple. "Keep your cap low and let me worry about that," she answered. As the guard post came into view, Cal saw the sentry move into the middle of the road, signaling for him to stop. As he slowed, the sentry didn't look Cal's way once. He was open-mouthed as the car pulled up and he saw Maxine in the back seat, with her blouse open and her full breasts and erect nipples on display. He didn't even notice the pistol firmly pressed into Kepler's crotch. He saluted Kepler, who stared straight ahead and didn't answer, and signaled for the gate to be opened. They parked the staff car at the side of the building, which looked like a small hospital. As they made their way inside and headed to Kepler's office, the halls were surprisingly empty except for an occasional nurse. "Where is everyone? Where are the guards?" said Cal. "Why guard a whorehouse?" said Maxine. "Any SS here are too busy burying themselves between the legs of Norwegian sluts." They reached Kepler's office and as soon as he unlocked the door Maxine shoved him inside. He grabbed a clipboard and his fat fingers trembled as they ran down the list of names, looking for her sister. He glanced up at Maxine and her hand was rock steady as she aimed the pistol at his head. Finally, he found the information he'd been looking for, and told Maxine that Astrid was in room 12. Cal left her guarding Kepler and made his way toward Astrid's room. A month on the run had taught him how to blend in and he used these skills as he passed two nurses and a soldier in the hall. He came around a corner and saw her room was dead ahead. The door to the room next to Astrid's was ajar and Cal peeked in. A young blonde girl, who was barely eighteen, was naked on her hands and knees on the bed as an SS officer in his forties fucked her hard from behind. Cal crept past the doorway and quietly snuck into room 12. As he shut the door, he saw another young girl, about nineteen, with golden blonde hair in pigtails and pale blue eyes, lying on the bed. She looked nervously at his SS uniform and pulled her blanket up. "What do you want?" Cal crept to the side of the bed, worried that the soldier next door would hear him through the thin walls. "I'm not a soldier," he whispered, "your sister sent me to help you escape." "My sister? I don't have a sister." Cal did a double take, he was sure this was the right room. "Isn't your name Astrid?" "No, I am Kirsten." She sat up and was only wearing a thin nighty, her nipples poking against the fabric. "There was another girl here this morning, but she was moved to the maternity ward." "Maternity?" "Yes, she is pregnant." All of a sudden, Kirsten's eyes opened wide in alarm as she heard light footsteps coming down the hallway. "The She-Wolf is coming!" "The She-Wolf? Why do they call her that?" "Because she steals the children as soon as they are born, raising them as her own for her SS masters!" She quickly fumbled at Cal's belt, trying to undo it. "Quick, you must take your clothes off!" "Why?" "She will know you are not SS!" Cal inspected his SS uniform. "How the hell will she know that?" "If she looks in here, and you have not forced yourself between my legs -- she will know you are not SS!" Cal watched as she quickly undid his belt and pulled his pants and underwear down, feeling like he should be stopping her. But as the footsteps sounded nearer, a fear crept over him. He quickly took off his tunic and crawled into the small single bed beside Kirsten as she took her nighty off. A noise from the wall made Cal look as a small viewing panel slid open, and a cold pair of blue eyes watched them. Kirsten quickly straddled Cal, blocking him from view. "Don't look," she whispered, "it is the She-Wolf!" As she straddled Cal, she felt him growing hard between her legs, and she rubbed her small blonde bush back and forth along his length. "Please forgive me," whispered Kirsten," but she will be suspicious otherwise." She reached between her legs, stroked his cock a few times and guided his pole to her pussy. Biting her lower lip, she lowered herself onto it, moaning as it stretched her tight hole wide. When it was completely inside her, she finally let her breath out. Trying to relax, she slowly rode up and down his swollen cock while peeking over her shoulder to see if the She-Wolf was still watching. The sheet had slipped and she had a full view of Kirsten's tiny ass as she slid up and down Cal's huge shaft, which looked like it was splitting her in two. He was amazed at how tight Kirsten was; he knew she was only a teenager, but he assumed that, working in an SS brothel, she'd be well broken in. She grabbed his hands and held them against her petite breasts, letting him tease her nipples as she rode him. They both heard the viewing panel slide shut and Cal expected Kirsten to hop off his cock, but she didn't. She reached behind and played with his balls as she bounced up and down on his shaft. "Hey," he moaned, "you better stop, or you're gonna make me come." "I want you to come inside me," she said. "I pray that you'll get me pregnant." "What?" Cal tried to hold her hips to stop her from bouncing up and down. "My father abandoned me here, hoping that an SS soldier would impregnate me and marry me. He told me he couldn't take care of me any more, and that it was my only hope. But I'd rather be dead than carry the offspring of one of these monsters...they've killed my friends! If you get me pregnant, I will be put in the maternity ward and they won't be allowed to touch me." Cal looked into her eyes and saw them welling with tears. "I'm not making any promises, but I'll do my best." He shifted his hands to her small, firm ass and she renewed her assault on his cock, bouncing up and down while his swollen balls smacked against her. Kirsten closed her eyes and braced herself against his chest as she repeatedly impaled herself on his thick prick. His shaft was slick from her pussy juices; as she trembled with a mini-orgasm, she threw her head back and let out a long, low moan. Cal knew he was close and he slammed her up and down on his cock, groaning as he finally filled her tight hole with cum. She collapsed exhausted beside him, and used one hand to stroke his half-hard cock lovingly while she pressed her other hand against her pussy so his load wouldn't leak out. Cal was staring into her beautiful blue eyes as she fondled his balls, when he suddenly remembered why he'd come to her room. "Dammit," he said, as he jumped up and threw the SS uniform back on. "Which way to the maternity ward?" Kirsten sat up and his cum dripped out from the blonde thatch between her legs. "Can you take me with you too?" she whispered. Cal wished he could. "I'm sorry, it's too risky. You're probably safer here." She nodded, as her eyes welled up with tears again. "What is your name?" she asked. "In case I'm lucky enough to get pregnant, I want to be able to tell my child who their father was." "Cal," he said. "Cal Hammer." He hurried down the hall but kept looking back toward room 12, wishing he could have brought Kirsten with him. But he knew he was already pressing his luck bringing Astrid along. Cal remembered the list of names from the newspaper; so many had died. He knew he had to escape for them. If everyone died the escape would have been in vain, but if even one could find freedom... When he finally reached the maternity ward, he saw three nurses talking by the nursing station. As he watched, a tall, beautiful blonde woman approached them. She was dressed in a tight gray jacket and skirt with a leather belt around her waist and a cross strap across her body. A swastika armband completed her uniform, and Cal spotted the SS lightning bolt logo on her lapel -- he knew she had to be the She-Wolf. She barked orders at the nurses and they scurried back to their duties. She looked in Cal's direction but he quickly ducked out of sight. When he looked back, she was gone. He snuck down the hall checking names on the doors, and couldn't believe his luck when he found Astrid's name on the second one. He ducked into the room and saw a beautiful girl watching him from the bed. "Yes?" she said, idly twirling her dirty blonde hair. "Are you Astrid?" "Yes." "Your sister has sent me to rescue you." "I have told Maxine to leave me alone," she said, rolling her eyes. "I have made my decision, I am staying here!" "You want to stay in an SS brothel?" Astrid gaped in astonishment. "She told you this was a brothel? This is a Lebensborn!" Seeing the confusion on Cal's face, she continued. "I'm not a prisoner here -- I want to be here! I'm pregnant with my fiancée's child. But Maxine refuses to accept this, because he is an officer in the SS. They protect us here, all of us mothers. This is the safest place for me to be until my child is born, and we can both be rejoined with my beloved, Dieter." "But...there were other girls," he said, remembering Kirsten. "Yes, but they are not prostitutes. They are women who have been chosen, and they come here of their own free will." "Great," he said, realizing this had all been a huge mistake. "Do you mind coming with me and telling your sister that?" "Maxine is here?" "She's holding an SS officer hostage...assuming she hasn't shot him yet." He helped Astrid out of bed and could just see the curve of her belly starting to show; he knew she had to be at least four months pregnant. He helped her into her housecoat and led her away from the maternity ward back to Kepler's office. As they walked, they didn't see the shadow stalking them. When they reached Kepler's office, Cal cautiously opened the door and saw Maxine still had her pistol trained on the SS stooge. "Maxine, are you crazy?" cried Astrid, as she pushed past Cal into the office. "Astrid, I'm begging you to go with this man," said Maxine, "he'll take you to England, where you'll be safe!" "I don't want to leave, my child and I will wait here for Dieter." "Astrid, you are a fool! As soon as the child is born they will take him away from you. And what if Dieter never comes back? What if he is killed? Do you know what the people will do to you when they discover you had a child with the enemy? You will be shunned and driven from our village -- or worse! "Go to England, give birth there and start a new life with your child. When the war is over you can come back and look for Dieter...or me." Suddenly, the door flew open and the She-Wolf burst into the room, a Schmeisser machine pistol in her hand. Cal threw his hands up as she aimed it at him, but when she spotted the gun in Maxine's hand she turned the pistol on her. Maxine switched her aim to the She-Wolf, and when she did Kepler made his move. He slammed into her and knocked her to the ground, sending the pistol skidding across the floor. As he sprawled across her trying to grab it, Cal launched himself at the She-Wolf. He grabbed her pistol and wrenched it toward the ceiling in case she squeezed off a shot. Her strength was incredible as she fought with him for the gun. She went to kick him in the shin so he pulled his leg back, and as he did she twisted and drove her other leg up and into his groin. Cal reached his hand down to lessen the blow, but grimaced as she rammed her knee into his crotch. She wrenched the gun free, but before she could aim it at him he blocked her with his left hand and landed a hard right cross on her jaw. She crumpled in a heap to the floor. Cal hated to hit a woman, but he knew she'd been tougher than half the men he'd fought. She was conscious but dazed and, before she could recover, Cal snatched the gun from the floor beside her. Glaring up at him with her steely eyes, she rubbed her aching jaw. He turned the gun on Kepler just as he was wrapping his fingers around Maxine's pistol. "Let go of that gun, or you're dead, Kraut." Kepler looked into the barrel of the Schmeisser and then slowly backed away, while Maxine retrieved her pistol and covered him. "Oh my god," cried Astrid. "Please, leave before the guards arrive -- they'll kill you both!" Maxine turned to the She-Wolf while still keeping her pistol leveled on Kepler. "Tell my sister what you're going to do with her baby as soon as it's born." When she didn't answer, Maxine aimed the pistol at her breast. "Tell her! Tell her what you do with all the children you Nazi bastards breed here!" The She-Wolf's cold eyes burned with hatred for Maxine. "We take them where they will be safe." "Where? Tell her where you take them!" "Back to the Fatherland, far from the fighting." "And the mothers? Do they get to go with their children?" She quickly glanced at Astrid, and then stared icily at Maxine. "Answer me!" "No...the mothers must stay here." "But...that's not true," said Astrid. "Dieter promised me...he promised me I could go with our child. He wouldn't lie to me..." Maxine turned to comfort her sister and the second her guard was down Kepler lunged for her gun. She tried to wrestle it away, but was fighting a losing battle until Cal pistol-whipped him with the Schmeisser. Kepler collapsed unconscious to the floor, an ugly purple bruise on the back of his neck. "We have to get out of here now!" Cal grabbed a lamp off the desk, tore the power cord loose, and used it to tie the She-Wolf up. "You cannot take her," she growled. "She is with child. We will hunt you down and kill you -- we will bring her back! You -- Cal forced Kepler's handkerchief into her mouth to shut her up. He grabbed the leather greatcoat and the three of them left the room, shutting the door behind them. As they ran down the hallway, Maxine held Astrid's hand while she held her other hand against her belly, tears streaking her face. They got to the intersection and Cal turned right. Maxine stopped and pointed to the left. "The exit is this way." "Go to the staff car and wait for me. I need to get someone." Kirsten sat up with a start when Cal burst into her room. "Put this on," he said, throwing her the greatcoat. "You're coming with me." When the Hammer Falls Cal led Kirsten down the hall, hoping anyone they passed wouldn't find it strange to see a half-dressed teenager wrapped in an SS officer's coat. And he was right, as a German guard came around the corner, nodded at Cal, and walked past her without blinking an eye. But they hadn't gone more than three steps when he realized he knew that face. "Hammer?" the sergeant said. Cal shoved Kirsten through the doorway and dove after her just as a stream of bullets from the sergeant's MP40 submachine gun traced a line of death above their heads. Cal leaned around the doorway and fired off two shots from his machine pistol as another burst from the MP40 tore chunks of wood from the door jamb. "Sarge," he yelled, "I thought we were pals?" "You will call me Feldwebel, not 'sergeant'," he cried, "and you are a spy!" Cal knew if they stayed long enough in the room they'd be trapped. He signaled for Kirsten, who was crouching beside a filing cabinet, to wait there. He ran and dove into the hallway opposite the door as a hail of bullets tore through the wall above him. "Hammer! Come out with your hands up or I will kill the girl! Hammer?" Cal listened as his footsteps came closer, and then stepped toward the hallway and ducked back as the sergeant's submachine gun traced an outline on the far wall. And then he heard what he'd been waiting for -- the telltale click of an empty magazine being disengaged. Cal stepped around the corner just as the sergeant was slapping a new magazine into place. Before he could pull the operating handle back into position, Cal squeezed the trigger on his pistol once and the sergeant slumped lifelessly to the ground, a bullet through his heart. Cal grabbed the submachine gun and called for Kirsten. As they ran out the front door to the staff car, he heard guards running toward the building from the nearby barracks. There was no time for introductions as Cal shoved Kirsten into the backseat with Maxine and Astrid. They ducked down as Cal hopped behind the wheel and gunned the car toward the sentry post with the MP40 beside him on the front seat. He slowed down when he neared the gate and saw a guard approaching the car. Cal leaned out the window. "Hurry, they're in Kepler's office!" The guard's eyes narrowed when he heard the driver's poor German. He raised his MP40 into the firing position as he cautiously approached, while Cal's hand subtly slid toward the submachine gun on the passenger seat. The guard glanced into the back seat and his eyes went wide in alarm as a shot rang out, and he collapsed dead. Maxine looked at Cal in the rearview mirror, the Schmeisser machine pistol in her hand still smoking. "Drive," she said. A siren wailed from the Lebensborn and echoed through the night as they swerved around the guard post and raced toward the Swedish border. Cal kept checking for signs of pursuit, but none appeared. Maxine told him to slow down when they were half a mile from the border. "We'll never make it past the checkpoint," she said. "Drive the car off the road and into the woods, we'll have to go the rest of the way on foot." Maxine led the three of them through the forest toward the border; the only sound in the darkness was the crunch of the dead, frozen leaves beneath their feet. After only a few minutes, Maxine motioned for them to stop. "Do you hear that?" As they listened, they heard the rumble of a troop transport in the distance. They watched as the truck rolled past with two SS staff cars following close behind. Once the vehicles had disappeared into the dark, Maxine signaled for them to keep moving. They hadn't gone far when they heard the vehicles returning, their headlights crawling along the dark road. "They know we never crossed the border," said Maxine. "It won't be long until they find the car.' "How long until the rendezvous?" said Cal. "Not long...I just pray that they didn't bring the dogs." The four of them hurried through the woods, and a short while later they discovered an abandoned farm, with an old barn silhouetted against the moonlit field. "This is it," said Maxine, "we are across the border and in Sweden now. The plane should be overhead soon, when we hear it I'll light the signal fire." "Sweden?" said Kirsten. "They're neutral, so the Germans won't cross the border, right?" "Have borders ever stopped the Nazis?" said Cal. Kirsten shivered and hugged herself against him for warmth. "It's so cold out here. Can we go in the barn until the plane arrives?" Five minutes later, two Wehrmacht soldiers crept stealthily from the woods. One of the soldiers adjusted his steel helmet as he signaled to the other to flank the barn. He crouched with his MP40 at the ready as he entered the shadow-filled structure. Cal and the women lay on the cold ground on the edge of the field watching the building while the soldiers searched inside. "See?" whispered Cal, as Kirsten shivered beside him. "That's why we're not hiding in the barn." "They must not have dogs or there would be a lot more than two soldiers after us," said Maxine. "The patrol must have split up to search the woods." As they watched, the soldiers came out of the barn and continued off into the darkness and the woods beyond the field. "They're gone," pleaded Kirsten, as the cold wind bit into her flesh. "Can we wait in the barn now?" Cal knew the three girls were freezing, and his teeth chattered as he shivered on the frozen earth. "Let me check first, don't move until I get back." Cal crept into the barn and waited just inside the door as his eyes adjusted to the dark. He took a single step forward, and then heard a scrape from his left. He spun with his machine gun at the ready, as a snort came from the shadows. In the last stall, an old horse watched him warily. "Hey, boy," he whispered, as he brushed his hand up the bridge of the big roan's nose. "Got one just like you on my farm." Cal stroked and scratched the plow horse's neck and back, feeling his shaggy winter coat, and was flooded with memories of home. "I've gotta go, but you make sure you stay safe -- watch out for Nazis." The horse whinnied in agreement. Cal saw a ladder leading toward the hayloft and slung his MP 40 over his shoulder as he climbed up to check it out. He had just pushed his head through the opening when a cold steel muzzle pressed against his temple. "Keep coming up," a voice whispered. "Touch your trigger and you will be dead." Cal couldn't believe he'd been so careless! After he'd come so far, only to be captured minutes from finally escaping. He climbed up to the hayloft and, as instructed, laid his submachine gun on the ground and stepped over it, walking forward with his hands in the air. "Turn around," the voice said, and as he did he looked into the cold, blue eyes of the She-Wolf. She kicked the MP40 behind her as she kept her machine pistol trained on Cal. Her aim was rock-steady; she didn't know the meaning of fear. "What have you done with her? Where is the pregnant woman you kidnapped?" "I didn't kidnap her, I'm with her sister and we're rescuing her." "You are endangering her and her child, I will not allow you to do that." "I'm not, I'm rescuing her!" "I don't believe you. Why would you risk your life to save this girl, who carries the child of your enemy?" Cal reached toward his jacket but froze when she aimed the gun at his face. "Can I show you something?" He slowly unbuttoned his stolen SS uniform to reveal he was still wearing the shirt he'd worn when he escaped the stalag underneath. The She-Wolf kept her pistol on him as he tore the stitches of the shirt and pulled a small scrap of paper out that had been sewn into and hidden in the lining. He'd carried it through the war, through his internment and through his escape; he called it his lucky charm. Cal cautiously held it up toward the She-Wolf -- it was a black and white photo of a little girl. "That's my kid, her name's Janie. I'd never let anyone take her away from me. And I ain't gonna let anyone take Astrid's kid either." The She-Wolf lowered her pistol an inch or two, trying to see the faded photo better. A beam of moonlight sliced through a broken board in the ceiling of the barn, and Cal stepped into it as he held out the photo for her to take. As soon as she reached for it, he launched himself into her. The pistol clattered noisily into the shadows as Cal pinned her to the hay-strewn floor. "You tricked me!" she cried. "Yeah," he said. "You didn't leave me much choice, She-Wolf." She stopped struggling and tears filled her eyes. "Don't call me that," she whispered. Cal tightened his grip on her wrists and pinned her hips to the floor with his own in case this was a trick. "My name is Ilsa, I hate it when they call me the She-Wolf! "You think I steal babies from these women, but I don't -- I send them where they will be safe from harm. I was a nurse when I first came to the Lebensborn, but I met a soldier and ended up having his child. They tried to send me back, told me to take my baby to safety. But I thought I was being a good German, and stayed where the Fuhrer needed me. "There was a bombing raid...and my son was killed; I cannot watch another child die. These Norwegian girls, they will never be allowed to move to the Fatherland and the SS will never let them keep their babies. So I do everything in my power to send the children to live with their German grandparents. Otherwise, they'll end up in an SS orphanage. And I keep all the records, so that after this madness is over -- if they survive -- the children may have a chance to be reunited with their parents again. "But the SS troopers and officers who visit the Lebensborn...they are not like you. You would risk your freedom, your life, to help this girl? I do not think they would risk anything, for the sake of an unborn child who wasn't their own." Ilsa surprised Cal by suddenly lifting her head and pressing her lips against his. He pulled back in shock, and saw the heartbreak in her eyes. And the tears for the child she'd lost. She shifted her weight beneath him and felt his hardness pressing between her legs. Ilsa gasped as he pressed his mouth against hers and their tongues locked together. As he kissed her hard, she reached for his pants and quickly undid his belt. Cal unbuttoned her gray jacket and pushed her white blouse up, exposing her large, pale breasts. He leaned down to suck her erect pink nipples as she tugged his cock out and stroked it, moaning as his tongue teased her breast. He knew they didn't have a lot of time, so he moved between her legs and pushed her skirt up as she pulled her underwear down. Ilsa's eyes were on his stiff cock as he guided it toward her tufted blonde bush. She sighed as he parted her swollen pussy lips and pushed his thick prick into her opening. "Ja, ja," she moaned, as he pumped her pussy. She grabbed his ass with her hands and arched her back, encouraging him to fuck her even deeper. She writhed beneath him and her long, blonde hair fell loose as he slammed his big pole in and out of her sopping hole. Cal watched her face as he fucked her. She was in a state of bliss with her eyes closed and her mouth open, moaning as she squeezed her breasts together and tweaked her nipples. Suddenly, he stopped and she opened her eyes in alarm. "What is it?" Cal put a finger to his lips, and the two of them held their breath as they listened. Finally, Ilsa heard a faint drone in the distance. "An airplane!" "Not just any plane -- that's the sweet sound of a DH.98 Mosquito, and my ticket home!" She grabbed Cal around the neck and pulled him close, their mouths locked together as he renewed his assault on her pussy. He knew it was almost over. He broke the kiss and raised himself up on his arms, his hips slapping against her pale thighs as he pounded in and out of her. He groaned as he fired a load into her, and she pulled him close to kiss him one last time. "I hate to run," he said, as he jumped up and got dressed, "but I've got a plane to catch!" Ilsa pulled her blouse closed, cum dripping out of her pussy, as she watched Cal disappear down the ladder. Before he left, she heard him downstairs saying goodbye to the horse. Maxine was standing and watching as Cal came running from the barn. "What took so long?" she asked. "We were worried that something had happened to you." "I'll explain later, the plane's coming!" "I know," she said, "I can hear it. I need to light the signal fire!" As Maxine ran toward the field, Cal looked back at the barn just as Ilsa disappeared, with one last look at him, into the shadows of the woods. Suddenly, a shot rang out from the far side of the field and Astrid screamed as Maxine pitched forward. Cal crouched and whispered, "Wait here and keep your heads down!" In his excitement over the plane, he'd forgotten his submachine gun in the hayloft. On the far side of the field he saw the two German soldiers returning. It was one of them that had shot at Maxine from the woods. Cal ducked down and ran around the scrub at the far end of the field. A cloud had drifted across the moon, but he could tell that Maxine was no longer where he'd seen her fall. The two soldiers crept along the edge of the woods, watching the field for any sign of her. Cal closed in on them, trying to move quietly through the trees. But a dry leaf crunched beneath his foot and he quickly hid behind a birch tree. He listened as the soldiers moved toward him, seeking the source of the sound. One walked past the tree and Cal grabbed his rifle, wrenching it out of his hands. The young soldier went to lunge at him but Cal drove the rifle butt into his ribs, sending him to the ground. A rifle roared from his left, and Cal quickly spun and shot the second soldier dead as the first soldier staggered to his feet, holding his ribs. When he saw his fallen comrade, he drew his dagger and ran toward Cal, who raised his rifle and pulled the trigger. He swore when it jammed, and swung but missed the soldier as he tackled him to the forest floor. Cal held the soldier's knife arm in a grip of steel, but he could feel his strength weakening as the blade slowly moved closer. He glanced to his left and saw Maxine lighting the beacon in the field, and listened, as the roar of the plane's engines grew louder. Maxine hadn't known whether she should help Cal or light the beacon, but she knew if the plane missed the rendezvous they'd all be dead. Now that the fire was lit, she ran toward the woods with her pistol drawn, and saw two shadows locked in a life and death struggle in the trees. As she reached the edge of the field, she saw one of the shadows slowly stand. Cal walked toward her through the pale, silver trees and dropped the blood-red knife on the dried yellow birch leaves. He hurried with her back to where Astrid and Kirsten waited, and the four of them watched as the small, two-engine plane taxied to a stop on the hard grass field. The navigator climbed out of the plane and saluted Cal as he got near. "It's an honor to meet you Flight Lieutenant Hammer. Now, let's get you home safe and sound!" Cal grinned as he looked at the plane. "I've never seen a prettier Mossie in my life," he shouted, trying to be heard over the engines. "I hope she's got room for three more!" A shocked look crossed the navigator's face when he realized Cal expected him to take the women as well. "I was told we were taking one, even if I wanted to take you all we couldn't. The four of you might be able to squish in, but there are only three extra oxygen masks. We have to climb to nearly 10,000 feet to avoid Luftwaffe patrols. You wouldn't survive at that altitude without oxygen." "I will stay behind," said Maxine, "please take Astrid, as you promised." "You're all getting on the plane," said Cal. "I'm staying behind." "I can't allow that, sir," the navigator said. "My orders are to bring you home." "Even if I went up on that plane, I wouldn't make it down." Cal gingerly pulled open his jacket, and the women gasped as they saw his blood-soaked shirt. "Oh my god!" Maxine cried. "The shot I heard in the woods..." Cal pressed his hand against his abdomen. "I'm done for...get these women out of here, I don't want my escape to have been for nothing." The navigator gave Cal a sympathetic look. "Yes, sir!" he said, and gave him one final salute. Maxine and Astrid both hugged him, tears streaking their faces, until the navigator pulled them away and loaded them into the Mosquito. Kirsten pulled him close and kissed him softly on the lips. "I hope I am pregnant," she whispered, "so I can tell our child what a hero their father was." Cal brushed a tear from her cheek and handed her to the navigator, who loaded her into the modified bomb bay. He climbed back into the cockpit, and Cal returned the pilot's salute as they roared down the field and disappeared into the night sky. As the engines faded into the distance, he heard shouting from the woods behind him. The rest of the German patrol had heard the plane and spotted him. He ran to his right, past the end of the field and into the birches as rifle shots ricocheted through the branches. He heard the barking of dogs in the distance; they must have gone back to the barracks to get them to assist the search. Cal knew he had no chance, but he ran; it was all he knew how to do. He was stumbling by the time he reached the road. The soldiers were closing in on all sides, like the walls of a tunnel. Adrenalin coursed through his body, and he thought he was going to be sick. He held his hand up to hide his eyes as a car came around the bend of the road and froze him in its headlights. The door opened and he heard a familiar voice. "Don't try to run, you'll never be able to escape," said Ilsa, as she stepped out of the staff car with her pistol drawn. The barking of the dogs was getting nearer, and as Cal looked back he could see flashlight beams coming through the woods. As she walked toward him, she looked up as a plane flew overhead toward the west. "Is that them? Are they safe?" she asked. Cal nodded, still hunched as he tried to catch his breath. Ilsa lowered her pistol when she got closer and saw the blood staining his shirt. "Mein Gott! You are shot!" "Naw, I'm fine." Cal lifted his shirt -- he was unwounded. "The blood is from one of your guys who tried to get me with his pigsticker...he lost." "But if you are not wounded...why are you not on the plane?" "Wasn't enough room," he said. "And I wasn't gonna leave one of the girls behind." Ilsa holstered her gun and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the car. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Like you said, I am the She-Wolf, and a she-wolf protects her mate." She opened the trunk and helped him climb in. The car roared off toward the Swedish border, and Cal heard the barking of the dogs fading into the distance. As he bounced in the pitch-black trunk, he fumbled in his pocket to make sure it was still there. Once he found it, he held his lucky charm close and, though it was too dark to see her face, he kissed the faded photo of his daughter, knowing he'd see her again soon.