0 comments/ 56736 views/ 11 favorites Madelaine's War By: krr1957 This story deals with themes of reluctance and coercion in a lesbian setting. If you feel you might be offended please try another story. Chapter 1 She looked so innocent, and I was going to ask her to give her life. Neither the drab grey of her prison uniform nor the harsh overhead lights of the interview room could detract from her natural beauty. The file showed that she was twenty one years old, a Cambridge physics graduate, but she could have passed for fifteen with ease and therein rested her allure. The Governess warned me that looks were deceptive and told me to be careful. She was not happy with my request to use her office and even less so when I told her that we would have to be left alone. She imputed a more sinister motive but when she saw the signature on my orders she was suddenly more than willing to cooperate. I had considered wearing my uniform but finally decided that she might find a Major's insignia to be intimidating. Instead I opted for a simple skirt and blouse. The office was well appointed, better than many used by senior ranks at the War Office, and I sat on the leather Chesterfield sofa to await her arrival. I dismissed the escort and for a second or two she looked unsure, probably having expected the Governess, but she quickly regained her composure. She stood rigidly in the prescribed manner but could not disguise her shock when I invited her to take a seat. "Madelaine, you are two months into a fifteen year sentence. I am here to offer you an alternative." She feigned indifference but I could tell otherwise. "Firstly, I need you to tell me what happened to you" "It's in the file." "I've read the file. I want to hear it from you." "I fucked another woman but I guess I fucked my career prospects at the same time." She was hoping to shock me but I had heard far worse. I remained unfazed and I could see that she was re-evaluating me. She tried a different tack. Leaning forward a little she held me with her large blue eyes. She was challenging me not to look down at her partially exposed bra and I found, to my own surprise, that it took an effort of will. "You're married?" Her question was rhetorical as she could see my wedding band. "Twelve months" "And when did you last see him?" "Twelve months ago" A four hour honeymoon before he took up his posting. No mail, no idea even which continent, just an irregular assurance that he was still alive. "You haven't had sex for a year?" "No." She seemed to consider this. "Have you ever had sex with another woman?" I ignored the impertinence of the question and answered simply. "No." "You should try it. It wouldn't even be cheating." Her psychiatric evaluation had warned of this, her ability to tap into other people's sexual sensibilities and turn it to her advantage, but I was caught completely unawares as she leant in and kissed me on the mouth. I was thirty years old, and had enjoyed a number of relationships in that time, but nothing could have prepared me for that fleeting moment. It lasted less than couple of seconds but it conveyed so much. As she brought her lips to mine there was some indefinable softness, a totally feminine experience, and, as she parted, the barest flicker of her tongue. I felt a flush of heat across my breasts knowing that no man, my husband included, had ever elicited such a reaction from me. She paused, a few inches away, and a sly smile dressed her face as she gauged my reaction. "You're the most beautiful woman that I've seen in months. In fact I would say that you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met." I had heard this from men many times over the years but she was saying it with a genuine sincerity which made my heart quicken. "Your breasts look just perfect...may I?" She was completely unabashed as she stroked the back of her hand gently across my blouse and I felt my nipples immediately responding within the confines of my bra. I knew that this had to be stopped but some perverted part of my brain was making excuses and telling me that this was something that I had to know. Without taking hers eyes from mine she flicked her fingers, with the deftness of a croupier dealing cards, and unfastened the buttons of my blouse one after another. I had been taught techniques for controlling my breathing and my heart rate but they availed me nothing as the steady rise and fall of my breasts betrayed my arousal. Now, her eyes did drop as she touched the silky material of my brassier. "French? I am impressed." As was I by her unexpected knowledge. One of the very few advantages of working behind enemy lines was the opportunity to acquire one or two of the luxuries that had been so long denied to women at home. She leaned in again and touched her cheek to mine, as if pantomiming a continental kiss, but as she pulled away again my brassier fell free like a conjuring trick. I instinctively brought up my hands and held it loosely to my breasts but her fingers were already slipping inside. I knew that she was condemned to a reasonably harsh work regime and the incredible softness of her touch came as a surprise. "Let me see..." The words were almost whispered as she eased my reluctant hands away and then slid my blouse off over my shoulders. It was still fastened at the cuffs and now formed a loose pair of manacles. I immediately stiffened as my defensive instincts kicked in but she understood and worked the final two buttons open. My blouse dispensed with she removed my brassier altogether and forestalled me as I attempted to cross my arms across my chest. "Oh, you are so lucky. I would give anything for breasts like these." She was certainly more modestly endowed than me but I have found that larger breasts can be an encumbrance. I had no such concerns now as she lovingly worked her hands over them. At first she treated me like a piece of sculpture following the curved uplift and testing their firmness but then her fingertips sought out the sensitive tips and I could not suppress a groan. As an adolescent I felt embarrassed by the size of my nipples. They seemed so large in comparison to my only frame of reference which was the images to be found in classical paintings. Later, when I overcame my Catholic guilt, and discovered the pleasure I could induce with my own fingers, I recognized them as a gift and not a curse. Men have no idea and, over time, I simply accepted their uncertain fumblings as a step along the way to consummation. It was not so now. Her touch was magical as she gently ran the pads of her fingers over the heavily dimpled areolae as if reading in Braille my level of arousal. I felt sure that they had never before been so engorged but she kept me on edge for a long moment before she applied an exquisite pressure to the very teats with a full understanding of the pulse of pleasure that she sent coursing through my body to resonate deep within my sex. "Stand up. Let me undress you." There was a studied youthfulness in her eyes which was unnerving but it was counterpointed by the assured tone of her voice which held out a promise that I was powerless to resist. I was dimly aware of the institutional surroundings, and all that they represented, but my mind was adrift from reality. My world seemed bounded by the few feet of space that we immediately occupied as I stood up before her. She ran her hands slowly down to my waist and then further still to the swell of my hips. She lingered there a moment and then she worked the buttons that fastened my skirt allowing it to drop to my feet. It was then that I was seized by panic but she seemed to anticipate the moment of onset and she drew me closely to her. Her purred as she nuzzled her cheek against the satin of my Parisian underwear whilst, at the same time, reaching around to keep me in place. She did nothing for a minute or more, allowing me time to gather a little composure, but I felt a renewed rush of adrenaline as she eased her thumbs into the waistband of my pants and slid them down my legs. I now stood before her in nothing more than my stockings and I automatically crossed my hands in front of myself. The nature of my profession sometimes removed me from the comforts of civilisation for long periods of time and I had taken to trimming myself quite closely which served to reveal my prominent labia. Once again, my early impression of women's genitalia was informed by paintings and a single science text book. Thus, I thought that I was unusual and it was some while before I understood that nature bestowed infinite variety. However, I was not prepared for Madelaine's response. She took my hands in hers and, easing them away, she stared at my sex. "So lovely..." She reached towards me and, with the back of a single finger, she teased the very tips of the exposed lips. I gasped in response and felt them swell beneath her touch. My husband told me that I had the healthy complexion of a land girl but I think that even he was surprised by the contrast formed by the dark colouring of my sex. At the beginning of our relationship I thought that he found it off-putting but Madelaine treated it almost with reverence. I had come to accept his uncertain pawing as a perfunctory prelude but, for her, it was an end in itself. She continued to stroke with a loving tenderness that, literally, left me weak at the knees. She laughed quietly. "You had better sit down." I sank back down onto the sofa expecting her to join me but she shocked me again as she went to her knees purposefully parting my legs as she did so. She laid a single, warm, kiss on the inside of my thigh and I began to feel faint. For me oral sex was a myth. It was not possible to live the life that I lived without exposure to some of its coarser aspects but they seemed to have no bearing on my own experience. None of my varied male partners seemed minded to engage in what my mother would have called "sordid practises" and, in truth, that suited me as I certainly had no wish to reciprocate. She read my hesitancy and looked up at me with a wicked smile. "An oral virgin? That's so sweet. What is it with the English middle classes? How can a race with so much reserve hope to win this war." The jibe rankled, if only from a professional standpoint, but I was given no time to respond. She pressed her face to my sex and breathed deeply. "You smell divine..." It was an outrageous thing to say but I felt my stomach lurch with excitement. I was aware of my own scent and I understood, in some way, that it had an integral part to play in the process of love making but it had always been something deliberately ignored. Now, this young woman was giving voice to it. She nuzzled me gently and I could feel her nostrils flaring as she slowly inhaled. My muscles tensed painfully as I held myself still not daring to move and it felt as if she was mocking me. I almost pleaded as she seemed poised to pull away but she was simply shifting the focus of her attention. It was a second or two before I could be sure but then I squirmed as I felt the tip of her tongue tracing the crease at the top of my thigh that marked the boundary of my sex. I could not believe that my skin could be so sensitive but I was alive to her every movement. She reached the open plain of my thigh and marked her stopping point with a kiss before she bowed again and followed the same path on the other side. I actually felt my sex opening up to her and I had to overcome the urge to close my legs. All of this she seemed to understand and she gave a sly smile as she ran the flat of her tongue over my mons. The rasping sound was barely audible but, to me, it seemed to echo from the walls. For uncounted minutes she continued to tease, moving away from my sex and back to my inner thighs when she judged that I was beginning to come to the boil. My mind was still operating at some rational level drawing on the ingrained tenets of my upbringing. I was telling myself that making love to another woman was a sin and that oral sex was distasteful but, at that moment, I was overcome by a desire that came from some hidden place deep within me. Reading my emotions she chose that moment to return to my sex. This time she licked softly right along the central divide and I felt myself melting inside but she remained unhurried. When she reached the apex she started again and fell into an easy rhythm until I became accustomed to the wonderful sensation. Once she knew that I was ready for it she began to take each delicate fold between her lips and caressed the fringes with her tongue. I began to feel almost uncomfortably warm but she looked coolly serene as she lovingly applied herself. Just when I thought that I could take no more she firmed her tongue and I felt the tip as it broached the portal. I held my breath and tried to come to terms with it. I naively thought that we had already reached the limits of intimacy but she was about to shake my world apart. With a slow, measured, thrust she pushed her tongue deep inside me and I had to stifle a scream. I felt filled with a beautiful warm softness, so different from anything else in my experience; it was as if we were perfectly melded together. After a few seconds I felt her begin an inner exploration and, more than ever before, I was aware of my own wetness. This came with a fleeting pang of guilt but then I understood that this was what she wanted. She sealed her mouth to my sex, drew in her cheeks, and she slowly began to swallow. For reasons I could not explain it was the most erotic sight that I had ever beheld. My whole body went weak and then I was wrenched by the contractions of a powerful orgasm the like of which I had never before experienced. I cried out but it was rendered a staccato scream as my body jerked with each ensuing wave of ecstasy and through it all she remained with me her tongue forever coaxing. Time ceased to have meaning as she held me aloft only allowing me to relax when I was too weak to take any more. I lay exhausted but, even now, she continued to preen my sex keeping me on edge. When my heart rate finally returned to something like normal anxiety began to assert itself. I had badly compromised both myself and the mission and I was not sure what I was going to do about it. In the event I was allowed no time to dwell on it. I thought that I had given all that I had to give but she was not finished yet. I felt her tongue probing once more and then another convulsion as she homed in on my clitoris. It had always seemed to me a secret, known only to me, and only then when I chose to bring myself pleasure, but she was a true adept. She worked patiently, until I felt the tiny bud engorge, and then she began to experiment, testing out the tricks of her tongue to find which brought the most pleasure. Within seconds my body was held in tension again but this time she was determined to keep complete control. In the corner of the room a grandfather clock struck the half hour and, by the time it began to herald midday, she had taken me to the edge at least four times. My body was sheened in perspiration and I felt almost feverish as she teased me up to yet another, seemingly impossible, level without granting me release. I reached a point where I was prepared to beg when she pursed her lips at the apex of my sex and it felt as if the tip of her tongue was vibrating. My second orgasm was no less intense than the first but she drew it out over a greater span. The sensations, centred on my sex, slowly spread throughout my body easing all of the built up tension and then taking me beyond. My eyes rolled up and then I was overcome by the sheer power of it until I felt myself on the verge of passing out. I fought to stay at the summit, where I had never felt more alive, but I no longer had the strength. As I surrendered she finally knelt up from between my legs. She looked into my eyes and, in a final act of beautiful depravity, I accepted the unspoken invitation to part my lips and join my mouth with hers. Chapter 2 In the aftermath I simply sat with her on the sofa, holding her close and in that moment I came to realize the full extent to which nearly five years of war had hardened me. It had instilled in me a single minded determination and an undoubted fervour but it had stripped me of some essential vitality. Now, this young woman, unknown to me just a couple of hours ago, had restored it. I stroked her hair and when I posed my question it was with a need to know that went well beyond the matter at hand. "Tell me how you came to be here." For a long time she said nothing but then she began her story. "I knew that I was a lesbian long before I went to University but I also knew that I had to keep it quiet. It's hard enough as it is for a woman in a man's world but if men think that you have no need for them at all, that you might be impervious to their doubtful charms, they can make life very difficult. Everything was okay until I began my Masters degree. My professor had a grace and favour home in the college grounds and I went there once a week for a tutorial. As soon as I met his wife I knew. She was like you, a lesbian who hadn't come to terms with it, and had married because it was what was expected of her." I was startled and wanted to tell her that she was wrong. I was certainly not a lesbian in spite of everything that had taken place between us. I lost track of what she was saying for a few seconds but then fixed my concentration. "...and so, we began an affair. We loved one another and spoke of plans but, one afternoon, he caught us together. She did not have the courage to leave him nor was she prepared to face a scandal. I was left with no choice but to give up my studies with all my ambitions of a career in academia in shreds. Inevitably there were rumours but, ironically, they were stories linking me with my professor. Still, whatever the colour of mud, it sticks and I had difficulty finding work. I finally became a governess for Lady Gloucester but it soon became clear that she had ulterior motives in hiring me. I obviously had a choice but pragmatism overcame scruple. Fortunately, she's quite well preserved for a woman in her forties and living out her little girl fantasies was not too onerous. It was a roof over my head and, understandably, very well paid. Things started to go wrong when she introduced me to the Viscountess Tremaine and her bitch of a step daughter. Gillian, Lady Gloucester, was in thrall to them and they must have got wind of what was going on. They wanted to see for themselves and, when I refused, they forced themselves on me." She paused, trying to overcome her anger, and I stroked her hair in an attempt to sooth her. "The report says that Lady Gloucester had her jaw fractured and there is the business of the missing jewellery." She sniffed back a tear and continued. "They wanted me to do things...and then they threatened me...believe me a broom handle is a very potent threat. Gillian tried to intercede but, when I lashed out, I caught her with my foot. After that there was panic. They took Gillian to hospital and the next thing I knew the police were at the door. Between them they had fabricated a story which involved Gillian catching me in the act of stealing some jewellery and coming off second best in a struggle." "Lady Gloucester testified to that?" "She was terrified of Tremaine and they will do anything to protect their own." "What about the jewellery?" "A necklace went missing and was never found. If you want my opinion you'll find it in Tremaine's bedroom; it was always a piece that she coveted." Madelaine's War "And for this you got fifteen years...." I said it quietly, almost in disbelief. When she spoke next it was edged with derision. "What chance did I stand? In the dock, my word against that of a member of the establishment. The judge was probably at school with her father." She pulled away from me and looked me in the eye. "Look, if you need my help it's a fair guess that it's not my intellect intrigues you. To survive in this place I have had to use my physical attributes to my advantage and I think that it is those skills that are of interest to you. I know what it says about me in my record 'a lesbian, cunning, calculating, a danger to herself and other inmates' . Well, I have a price. I want to be free of this place...and I want my revenge." How could I tell a twenty-one year old woman that the price might be her life? Chapter 3 At this stage I could not tell her what the mission would involve, nor the potential cost, but I arranged to have her freed on licence and sent down to Wanborough Manor, the Special Operations Executive facility just outside Guildford. Over the next four weeks she would receive a crash course in field craft and be taught enough German to get by. For my part I tried to come to terms with what had happened. She was sharp enough to know why I had sought her out but had her behaviour simply been a demonstration of her skills or had there been a genuine attraction? Either way she had left an emotional scar. She had also left me with a dilemma. She wanted revenge and I was not sure how to deliver it. The Viscountess Tremaine was somewhere in line to the throne and her stepdaughter was Evelyn Newsom-Thomas a stage actress of some renown. I had seen her only a few weeks before at the Adelphi and had left convinced that her growing fame owed more to her looks than her acting skills. I put in a routine request to the SOE "gossip shop" and was almost instantly rewarded. Newsom-Thomas retained a mews cottage off of Kensington Gore and the Viscountess regularly stayed over with her on Thursdays and Fridays. It was believed that she was conducting an affair with a senior member of the defence staff and so she appeared on the "watch list". A very crude plan began to form. On the following Thursday I collected Madelaine from Wanborough and explained what I intended to do. At first she looked shocked but then she began to laugh. The lock on the mews cottage door was crude and easy to pick. I ushered Madelaine inside, relocked the door, and then we waited. The Town Hall drawings showed that the cottage had a cellar and, as I hoped, it had been retained as an air raid shelter complete with an iron framed double bed. Evelyn was first home and suspected nothing as she turned on the light. She immediately recognized Madelaine and was on the point of screaming when she took note of the Welrod silenced pistol that I held pointed at her chest. "What the hell is this!" "No questions. Follow her downstairs." "You must be joking!" The dull thud of the Welrod was accompanied by the shattering sound of an exploding vase which, a split second before, had stood in the centre of the table immediately to her left. With fear in her eyes she followed Madelaine with me bringing up the rear. The cellar was well lit with no fewer than three Tilly lamps and I guessed that fuel rationing was not a problem for some. Madelaine sat down on the bed and I moved beside her with the gun still pointed at Evelyn. I had reckoned that I would only need a single bullet to make my point and she was not to know that the gun was now empty. "Take off all your clothes." She looked terrified. "I can't!" Madelaine snarled at her. "Shy all of a sudden? You didn't seem to have any inhibitions when you ripped my clothes off." "It wasn't my idea." "I didn't see you going out of your way to stop it." I could see her mind working. She just needed to cooperate until the Viscountess came home and so she slowly began to remove her clothes. When she stood in just her underwear I waved the gun slowly. "Everything...I want you naked." The words jarred and it took an effort of will for her to remove the remainder but, curiously, the actress in her then came to the fore. She stood up straight almost daring us to look. With her blue eyes and peekaboo hair style she put me in mind of the American film actress Veronika Lake but the neat, mousey, thatch at her crotch gave the lie to her blonde colouring. She was shorter than me, probably around five four, and, whilst trim, she looked well fed by wartime standards. She had a dancers legs and her breasts were beautifully shaped. The slight chill had brought her neat pink nipples to prominence and raised goosebumps on her forearms. "Lie down on the bed." "Not until you tell me what all this is about." I walked behind her and slapped her sharply on the backside. The shock drove her forward and sent her sprawling onto the counterpane. I pointed the gun between her eyes. "Don't move" Taking her cue Madelaine opened her bag and took out a roll of parachute cord from which she proceeded to cut off four short lengths. Realizing what was to come Evelyn tried to move away but another gesture with the gun was enough to quieten her. She surrendered to the inevitable as Madelaine secured her limbs to the four corners of the bed. Seeing her like that, tightly secured and totally vulnerable, had an unexpected effect and I felt an odd tingle centred on my sex. I was still trying to come to terms with it when a new voice jolted me back to reality. "What's going on here?" Instinct kicked in. I dropped to one knee and held the empty gun in both hands centred on the Viscountess who now stood in the doorway. I peripherally noted that she had removed her shoes, which accounted for her silent entry, but I could not believe that I had been so sloppy. Fortunately, the speed of my movement, and the immediate menace of the gun, shocked her to stillness but then the natural arrogance of her class reasserted itself. "I demand to know who you are and what you think you are doing." If Evelyn was Veronica Lake then the Viscountess was an older version of Gene Tierney. At forty-one she was fifteen years older than her step-daughter but she could have passed for early thirties with ease. The society photographs that I had reviewed barely did her justice and her beauty had more in common with the movie star than someone suffering the privations of wartime Britain. I had to give her credit. She looked at me steadily, deliberately ignoring the ignominious plight of her step daughter who now gave warning. "They're serious. She shot at me upstairs." The Viscountess cast her eyes down at the gun and then disdainfully back to me. "The vase? You should know that it was an Imari original." I knew that I had to retain the initiative and puncture her sang-froid. I turned to Madelaine. "Let me have the knife." The knife that I had provided her with to cut the cord was a vicious looking box cutter and I made sure that the Viscountess got a good look at it. I then slipped the blade under the spaghetti strap of her evening gown. "Stay very still." I calculated that she might just call my bluff on the gun but the knife held out the prospect of lasting, if less lethal, consequences. "This isn't necessary. If you want money I'll show you where it is." I ignored her as I surgically sliced through the second strap and allowed her gown to fall to the floor. "We are not here for money." For an instant her previously steady gaze wavered. She too had recognized Madelaine and must have assumed an escape from custody along with a need for funds. A series of deft flicks of the blade were enough to dispense with her camisole and her pants leaving her with just her stockings. I now wanted to be done and to leave as quickly as possible but Madelaine suddenly went off script. "Bring her over." I was about to take issue with her but I bit my tongue. She needed to restore her self esteem with these women and I did not want to tip the delicate balance. I touched the Viscountess of the shoulder with the haft of the knife and urged her forward. Naked and helpless as she was she still retained her poise and I guiltily took in the smooth lines of her legs and her slightly heavy derriere. She looked down at her step daughter and tried to reassure her without speaking but we were all taken by surprise as Madelaine began to strip out of the dark, factory workers, overall that I insisted she wore not least because she was totally naked beneath it. "Do you remember what you made me do...of course you do." She was leaning over Evelyn, with their faces just inches apart, and I could see the terror in the young woman's eyes. She allowed a second or two for realization to hit home and then she eased herself onto the bed sliding her knees over Evelyn's pinioned arms. My own experience had been confined to the dark and under the covers and I could never have conceived of something as outrageous as Madelaine now seemed to be proposing. "Get off me!" "Just as soon as you bring me off." Evelyn began to struggle to the extent that her bindings allowed but it was to no avail. Madelaine waited her out and then spoke again. "Like it not you are going to do it because, if you don't, you won't recognize your step-mother by the time my friend has finished with her." I had made it clear to her at the outset that there was to be no physical violence. The intention was simply to humiliate them and teach them a lesson but clearly Madelaine wanted more. Fortunately her threat had an immediate effect on the Viscountess. She recoiled from me but I grabbed her by the arm. She looked from me to her step-daughter and whispered imploringly. "We can get through this. You just have to do as she says." Evelyn's face bore a look of disbelief at this seeming betrayal and a tear started from her eye but Madelaine was in no mood to be merciful. She brought her knees closer together, trapping Evelyn's head, and then slid forward to seal her in. The Viscountess remained still but, nevertheless, I moved behind her. From here I posed a more ominous threat but it also afforded me a clearer view of the proceedings. Madelaine looked relaxed, her hands resting on her knees, and completely unabashed by our presence. My eyes fell to her breasts and I wondered why she would be envious of mine. Hers were delightfully up tilted with pale pink nipples forming twin crowns. Even as I watched they started to evidence her increasing arousal. From somewhere beneath her came a despairing scream but she ignored it and said loudly. "Cut her." The Viscountess jerked but I was relieved to see that Madelaine was winking at me. The smile on her face broadened and I could only assume that Evelyn was finally doing as she was told. For a moment or two all was silence but then Evelyn began to struggle again until Madelaine relented a little and allowed her to gasp for air. Her face, now revealed, was very red and smeared with glistening moisture. When she had made a partial recovery Madelaine knelt up over her just inches from her mouth and I was stunned to see that her sex was completely bare. For a moment she looked like a playful adolescent and I had to remind myself that she was a woman in her twenties. "Now it's up to you. You either make the effort or I sit on your face again. Which is it to be?" Evelyn looked appalled but Madelaine's words stirred something deep inside of me. For an instant I felt unsteady on my legs and I had to make a conscious effort to recover myself. I thought that she was going to refuse but, as she cast an anguished look towards her step-mother, I moved the knife just a fraction. I do not know what came over me. My movement could only be interpreted as a threat and the Viscountess trembled with dread. "Evelyn..please..." The fear in her step-mothers voice had the desired effect. She looked up at her nemesis with a final vestige of defiance but then slowly lifted her head. She visibly shuddered as she made a first, tentative, pass with her tongue but then she seemed to accept her fate and began to lick more positively. Madelaine accepted her tribute for a minute or two but was determined to demean her captive as much as possible. "Do it with a little more feeling...we'll make a lesbian of you yet." More time ticked past and the strain of keeping her head up, and her mouth in place, was slowly taking its toll but Madelaine was enjoying herself too much. She took hold of a pillow and unceremoniously stuffed it beneath Evelyn's head pressing her more tightly to her in the process. "You're doing well but now I want to feel your tongue inside me." As she said it she reached down to part her sex with her fingertips. The, wet, livid pink core formed a stark contrast to her ivory skin and it was all I could do to suppress a gasp. I could not believe that a woman could be so overtly sexual and so completely uninhibited. She defied all my preconceived notions of a female's role but, far from being revolted, I found myself drawn towards her. Evelyn looked equally shocked but she too had fallen under the spell. As she pushed out her tongue Madelaine descended to meet her and gave a purr of delight as they mated. My senses suddenly seemed more acute. As Madelaine began to rock, almost imperceptibly, I could hear Evelyn's near silent whimper as she tried to remain engaged and my nose twitched as it caught the scent of arousal thickening the air. A slight movement drew my eye to the Viscountess. I was astonished to see that her dark nipples were fully engorged and she was struggling to keep her hands at her sides. There was a guilty glint of excitement in her eyes as Madelaine threw back her head and surrendered to her climax with an immodest groan. She sat back on her haunches as she tried to catch her breath but I was probably breathing as hard as she was. When she had finally gathered herself she rose with an effort and stood beside the bed. "Give me the knife." I knew that I should not have done it. Years of training had drilled into me the need to retain control of any given situation but the forbidden excitement she instilled was overpowering. As I handed it over I was telling myself that I could as easily disarm her but the truth was that I wanted to know what she intended to do. She studied the blade as it glinted in the light and then looked up at me. "Get undressed." She spoke quietly but with the authoritative edge of someone beyond her years. I knew it was insane but I could not help myself. My fingers trembled as I worked the buttons of my overall and let it slip to the floor. I was wearing utilitarian underwear and, for a second, I saw the slightest hint of contempt in the eyes of the Viscountess but then there was a grudging appreciation as I stripped altogether. "Come here..." Her voice was hypnotic, rich with promise, and my legs seemed to move of their own volition. "Get on the bed...like I did...but round the other way." Evelyn was about to protest but the touch of the blade against her shoulder instantly quietened her. I did not have her natural gracefulness and I positioned myself a little more awkwardly. I was now facing the foot of the bed and the aberrant thrill of knowing that my sex was almost resting on Evelyn's face was making me light headed. I was willing her to say the words, to make Evelyn do it, but she was working to a different script. She smiled at the Viscountess. "Your turn. Come here and lie on top of her." She looked totally aghast, and I thought that she might actually flee the room, but Madelaine reinforced her command by running the blunt edge of the knife over Evelyn's stomach. "Please!!...Just do it!" Evelyn was blinded by my enclosing thighs, and had no idea what had been done to her as she screamed out her agonized plea, but the warmth of her exploding breath made me acutely aware of the moistness of my sex. The Viscountess hesitated a moment longer but then slowly approached the bed. As far as she was concerned Madelaine was manifestly unhinged and capable of anything; it was a conclusion with which I would have found it hard to argue. "I'm sorry." I was not sure if she was apologizing to her step daughter for the situation they found themselves in or for the fact that she now lay heavily upon her but Evelyn seemed to relax a little now that she had a shield from the immediate threat of the blade. I could not shake the sense that she was posing us for her personal amusement but I was almost beyond caring. My sex was crying out for relief and I was on the verge of voicing my own demands. After a few seconds the Viscountess lifted her head a little to make it easier for her step daughter to breathe but, in so doing, she brought herself closer to me. Madelaine chose that moment to lean over and whisper in her ear. "You know what she wants you to do..." She shivered in disgust but she knew that there was no choice but to co-operate. Her positioning made it awkward, perhaps even painful, but she bent her neck and I had to bite my lip to hold back a scream of pleasure as I felt the first, clumsy, touch of her tongue. She recoiled from that initial contact and swallowed, as if she had tasted bitter aloes, but she steeled herself and made a second attempt. This time she licked narrowly, along the edges of my labia, but I was so aroused that my sex parted invitingly. Again, she wavered, but then she screwed her eyes closed and reapplied herself. It was clear that she had never done this before but, appreciating that, and knowing also that Evelyn was bearing intimate witness excited me in a way I had never felt before. For the next few moments we remained in stasis the only movement the slight bobbing of her head as she continued to lick as best she could. At some point I caught a hint of my own scent and briefly wondered how it must be for Evelyn trapped in the stifling thickness of it. Catching me unawares Madelaine reached out and I felt the delicate play of her fingertips on my engorged nipples but I was now single mindedly concentrating on the climax that I could feel building inside thrumming out to the tips of my fingers and toes. My sex began to deliquesce and Evelyn gave a sorrowful whimper as she was subjected to a rain of tainted saliva but I totally disregarded her as the Viscountess now seemed to be attending to me with less reluctance. A single stab of her tongue was enough to find a deep lodgement and, for the second time, I thrilled at the unique feeling of a woman's touch. She still had the awkwardness of an ingénue but there was an unconscious understanding of what was necessary to heighten my pleasure. Madelaine laughed quietly as we puppets played out her game but I was long past the point of no return. I revelled in the delightful feeling of her rooted tongue for a few moments longer but I was in need of more. Without ceremony, and ignoring a startled shriek, I settled fully on Evelyn's face. In so doing my sex opened just a little more releasing her to find focus at the very apex. I had never been so aware of my clitoris. At that moment it felt like the centre of my being. She licked blindly, uncertainly, but it was enough. I bucked unheedingly on the face beneath me as I encouraged her to increase her tempo and then I keened a drawn out howl as my orgasm ripped through me only to roll back and re-echo leaving me shaking uncontrollably. I could not say how long it lasted but I was drawn back into the real world by the gentle stroking of my hair. I opened my eyes to find Madelaine smiling at me and easing me back from a near suffocating Evelyn. Madelaine's War I knelt with my back against the headboard and Evelyn's distressed face between my thighs and then something altogether unexpected happened. The Viscountess, herself barely recovered, gently kissed her step daughter on the forehead. Seeing this, Madelaine placed her hands on their heads, gently coaxing. I could see their eyes locked as they waged an internal struggle but they were already melting as Madlelaine began to lull them, slowly but surely bringing their hesitant mouths together. Once they were engaged, and lost in one another, she caught my eye and looked towards my discarded clothes. As inconspicuously as I could I slid from the bed and quickly began to dress but my eyes were riveted. Madelaine was still guiding them with the stroking of her hands easing the Viscountess slowly downwards until her mouth began to seek out Evelyn's sex. Like a mother quietly taking leave of her sleeping children she slowly moved away and recovered her own clothes but, even as she dressed, she had the presence of mind to signal me silently. I had almost forgotten our purpose but now I took out my Russian made Minox camera. Small enough to fit in the palm of my hand it was loaded with a low light film especially developed for SOE and I proceeded to shoot the whole roll. Chapter 4 From the outset our intent had simply been to pose our victims for a series of incriminating photographs and I had no doubt that Madelaine would have quietly made them public. As things turned out she was happy to leave them with the simple anguish of knowing that the photographs existed. She thought it revenge enough that she had revealed to them a hidden nature that they would now find it impossible to deny and would forever seek to satisfy. The irony, of course, was that I had been compromised in the same way. My concerns were so great that I asked to be replaced on the mission but as I could not reveal the true reasons for wanting to stand down I was ordered to proceed. In the beginning I had intended to let Madelaine know as little as possible but now, dangerous as it was, I felt the need to be as open with her as I could. When her scant training was completed I met with her at Wanborough. "A few weeks ago we lost contact with one of our best field agents. She was investigating a BMW research centre near Freiburg im Breisgau. She believed that they are developing something there that will change the course of the war." "You speak of her in the past tense. Do you think she's dead?" "We just don't know but if the Gestapo have her she would be better off that way." I was pleased to see a hint of fear in her eyes. I could not ask her to do this without a full understanding of the possible consequences. "Security at the facility itself is strict, German nationals only, in short, no way in." "So what did your agent know?" "Materials for the facility are transported by train. The Germans have built new marshalling yards and they are managed by one Obersturmfuhrer Greta Heinzer. She runs an office from the former police station and she lives above it. Our agent was trying to infiltrate her staff in the hope that the transport manifests would give a clue to what was going on at the facility." "And now you want me to take her place?" I hesitated before answering but my silence was enough. She raised an eyebrow and then continued. "Would I be correct in presuming that Heinzer has certain sexual proclivities?" Again, she gave me no chance to form an answer, evasive or otherwise. "She likes young girls?" I nodded an affirmation and then tried to keep my voice as neutral as possible. "She uses her housekeeper as a procuress, usually local girls. We want you to hide your lack of German by acting simple. Hopefully this will work to our advantage in two ways. Firstly, we think that it might make you even more attractive to her but secondly, and more importantly, I will act as your older sister and guardian. If they take you they have to take me." She paused for a long time and, for the first time since I was introduced to her, I sensed an inner vulnerability. "When would we have to go?" "It has to be tomorrow night when there's no moon." Chapter 5 The Lysander brought us down in the open countryside near La Bresse where members of the resistance picked us up by truck and took us to the border. The last few miles had to be negotiated on foot but Madelaine proved a hardy walker. Our papers showed us to be refugees from Dresden and our cover was that we were seeking relatives in Freiberg im Breisgau. In fact our "relatives" were already known to be dead and so we could justify temporary lodging in a worker's hostel. We were just two new faces in a very transient population and we were allocated beds with only a cursory check I wanted Madelaine to sleep in and recover but we knew that the housekeeper looked in each morning to cast her eye over any new arrivals. So it was that we joined the queue for breakfast at six-thirty. It was meagre fare, a small hunk of bread with a scrape of jam and a cup of ersatz coffee, but it was good to know that the Germans were suffering deprivations. We sat at the end of a crowded trestle table and had almost finished when the woman appeared. Corpulent hardly described her. She was quite tall with corn blonde high drawn tightly back from a round face in which all her features seemed too crowded towards the centre. I guessed mid thirties though maybe younger. Overweight people tended to stand out at this point in the war but her clothes were well cut and helped to smooth her silhouette. She spoke to the warden who nodded in our direction and I could see immediately that she had taken the bait. She walked briskly to our table and addressed herself to Madelaine. "Your name?" "Her name is Madelaine, Madelaine Hausmann, we are sisters." "She can't speak for herself?" "She is afflicted." Madelaine looked up at her and flashed a smile which was imbued with both childlike innocence and a hint of mischief. "How old is she?" "Fifteen, we're together looking for work." I saw the glint of excitement in her eye as she imagined introducing this unlikely treasure. "Get your things and follow me. I may have something for you." Ten minutes later we trailed in her wake as she led the way across town where the reason for choosing the police station was immediately obvious. It stood hard by the multiple railway tracks and adjacent engine sheds. She took us into the back of the building and through a kitchen where a large table groaned with food. To her credit Madelaine gave a joyous whoop but I think it was imbued with a genuine craving. I guessed that the Obersturmfuhrer was helping herself to supplies before they were routed through to the facility. Having tempted us she led us up to the top of the building and a series of attic rooms. "This will be yours." The room was nicely furnished with twin beds and the luxury of an ensuite toilet and washroom. We gazed in awe as would be expected of us. "How many others work here?" She ignored my question. Instead, she closed the door and locked it before turning to face us. "What can your sister do?" "She is strong. She can do manual work." "But what else?" Her German was slightly accented, and I guessed at an Austrian origin, but I did not miss the nuance in what she was asking. It cut across all of the social mores that governed my life but Madelaine had been an inhabitant of this netherworld and had long since mastered its workings. Keeping in character she slipped her arm around my waist and leered as she rested her head on my shoulder. The housekeeper actually laughed out loud and I could imagine her joy at not only finding this prize but with no necessity of breaking her in. "I want to watch..." I readied the knife concealed in my coat sleeve but Madelaine stroked my hand. Things were moving much faster than I could ever have planned for but she was letting me know that she did not feel threatened. She giggled as she eased off my coat and started on the buttons of my blouse. She undressed me as a child would a doll and soon had me naked. I looked at the housekeeper with a smile which, I hope, conveyed the sharing of a guilty secret but I had not planned for this. She settled heavily on the room's single chair and, with the gesture of an open hand, invited me to carry on. Not knowing what she expected to see I remained still whilst Madelaine began to caress my breasts as if they were a complete novelty. In fact, whilst her movements appeared gauche, she was finding all the correct points of contact and my nipples were soon responding. Once they stood rigid she reacted as if she had achieved her aim and, almost perfunctorily, she knelt in front of me. In some strange way I felt cheated. Remembering the curious intimacy of our first encounter this was far too mechanical but she knew the character she was playing far better than I. She began to lick my sex with broad sweeps of her tongue uttering loud moans of appreciation as if it were an exotic fruit. For a moment or two I looked down at top of her head wondering what might be expected of me but her pantomime had had the desired effect. When I looked up it was to find that our personal voyeur had unfastened her coat and now had her fingers busily at work beneath the heavy material of her skirt. Just weeks ago I would have found the idea appalling but, as I watched, I felt a shameful frisson of excitement. This must have transmitted itself to Madelaine because, every now and then, she interspaced her apparently unsophisticated technique with a touch that raised my heart rate. I found it incredible that, even now, she could be mischievous but perhaps it was just her own way of overcoming fear. She was so clever that it was sorely tempting to see how far she would take things but I knew we had done enough to pass the audition. I placed my hands on her head, closed my eyes, and began to moan. Sadly, I had had more than enough experience of faking orgasms. I helped Madelaine to her feet and bade her to sit on the bed whilst I quickly got dressed but the housekeeper seemed in no particular hurry to leave. I was relieved when she finally struggled out of the chair but then realized, with alarm, that far from adjusting her clothing she was actually getting undressed. I dared not look at Madelaine as I frantically weighed my options. I could disable the woman and we could flee but that would leave the mission over before it began with a strong possibility that we might be pursued. She smirked, mistaking my stare as an expression of interest as she shed her voluminous underwear to stand naked before me. My unarmed combat training made me instinctively evaluate her body mass and I concluded that, as a younger woman, she had probably been quite svelte. Fat had rounded her arms, legs and hips but her breasts had retained their firmness and her nipples had not yet surrendered to gravity. She was lucky in that her natural height and a long neck still lent her a certain shapeliness but it was obvious that she no longer cared; but then, why should she? She clearly had a common interest with the Obersturmfuhrer and they were in an ideal position to lure their prey. I had wrestled with my conscience and was filled with self-loathing when asking Madelaine to prostitute herself, especially now that I knew so much more about her, but the plan had only ever been to ensnare the Obersturmfuhrer. My mind was still in turmoil but my body was already tensing ready to strike. I flexed my hand and drew back my arm but Madelaine touched my elbow and held me in check. I could feel the slight tremor in her fingertips and, when I looked in her eyes, I could see how frightened she was but there was also a steely spark of determination. Without speaking I tried to convey that she need not do this but she was already crossing the room to where the woman had seated herself once more. As Madelaine approached she lifted her breasts and I saw that her nipples were larger than they first appeared. They were a very pale pink with no distinct circumference and she brushed them roughly with the edges of her thumbs. Madelaine giggled as she placed her hands upon them and began to knead the firm flesh but I could feel her inwardly squirm as the woman reached forward to reciprocate none too gently. I sat on the bed and tried to appear relaxed, even managing a conspiratorial smile when the woman looked over at me, but deep inside I felt a seething rage. After a moment or two she tired of mauling Madelaine's breast and she put her hand to the back of her neck before pulling her down against her chest. I thought that she was going to fall but she recovered herself and finished up kneeling between the woman's parted legs with her face mashed between the pillows of her breasts. How she did it I do not know but she found the presence of mind to squeal delightedly and then she took one of the engorged teats into her mouth. The woman found this much to her liking as she closed her eyes and exhaled loudly. She twined her fingers in Madelaine's hair and, from time to time, tugged her across so that both breasts received equal attention. At one point I nearly reacted as the woman yelped and then proceeded to slap Madelaine on the cheek something more than playfully. Madelaine laughed and I understood that she must have nipped her with her teeth. The woman laughed with her, maternally rubbed the injured cheek, and then put her back to work. The next few minutes were agonizing. I watched Madelaine playing her part in the full knowledge that she was only here because she had been wrongly accused in the first place and I had used that to my advantage. Suddenly the woman told Madelaine to get up and I hoped that she might have done enough for now but there was to be no remission. She adjusted her position in the chair and then, with an effort, hooked one leg over the arm which creaked in protest. Her sex was now lewdly displayed with its dressing of blonde hair so fine as to be almost invisible. She proceeded to rub her hand over her meaty labia which, themselves, had a surprisingly dark colouring given the paleness of her skin. For a second I dared hope that she only wanted Madelaine to watch but it was a hope cruelly dashed. She pointed to the floor and Madelaine slowly dropped to her knees. Trapped in the canyon of the woman's thighs Madelaine looked both small and vulnerable but she kept up her pretence of naive enthusiasm and fell upon her as if starved. The woman relaxed and looked almost sleepy as, from time to time, she murmured encouragement and rubbed Madelaine's head as if she were a pet. Bravery and sacrifice come in many forms and my heart went out to her. I knew, from experience, that she could have transported this woman to new heights in the space of a few heartbeats and foreshortened her own suffering in the process but she continued to play the innocent. The toll of a church bell told me that she had slaved for at least half an hour and the folds of the woman's flesh were now sheened in perspiration. She had doused herself which a cheap eau de Cologne which had long since pervaded that room and I could only imagine the additional olfactory assault that Madelaine was being subjected to at such close quarters. I also saw that she was having to swallow with greater frequency and so I hoped that, even with feigned artlessness, she was achieving her aim. Even so, it was another few minutes before the woman began to emit a series of grunts which culminated in an uncontrolled quivering of her whole bulk. She used both hands to keep Madelaine pressed to her and kept her there long after the final spasms had passed. Chapter 6 When Madelaine stood up, unsteady on her feet, the physical toll taken was there to be seen. I desperately wanted to hug her but now it was my turn to act once again. The housekeeper got dressed and told Madelaine to lie down and rest. She then instructed me to follow her. Madelaine was silently pleading with me not to go but I had no choice and so, for the first time since we departed the airfield in Surrey, I left her alone. I was taken back down to the kitchen and told to fetch a scrubbing brush and bucket. I was then put to work cleaning the floor. A while later I was joined by two young girls who sat down silently and began to prepare vegetables. I made a couple of attempts to engage them in conversation but they remain stubbornly silent. The reason quickly became obvious. The housekeeper returned to examine the results of their labour and immediately began to berate one of the girls for paring the peel on the potatoes too thickly. She went into the pantry and returned with a long rattan cane. The girl sobbed and pleaded but she was finally forced to hold out her hand. The housekeeper lifted the cane on high and then lashed it down onto the girl's vulnerable palm. She choked back a scream but immediately picked up her knife to resume her duties. For my part I was given a broom and was led upstairs to a suite of offices. I could not believe my good fortune. There were at least a dozen clerks hard at work but, over the next couple of hours, such surreptitious glances as I could get availed me nothing. As far as I could make out, they were marshalling trains for this whole area of Germany but no clues as to cargos. I was given lunch and then more cleaning until I was finally dismissed for the day. As I entered the room Madelaine ran to me and hugged me close. We stayed like that for a long while until one of the young girls from the kitchen brought us a generous supper. We were both exhausted, physically and mentally, and we were in our beds before it got dark. I lay and tried to plan my next move but I now had a new concern. The housekeeper had taken away our papers for checking and, whilst this was anticipated, it meant that we were vulnerable if we had to bolt. I had just managed to quieten my thoughts when a soft noise brought me back to alertness. The bed shifted and suddenly Madelaine was beside me. As she spooned into my back I felt the heat of her naked body and, for a few seconds, I felt blissfully soothed and the war could have been taking place in another world. She continued to nuzzle me, her breath warm on my neck, and then her hand found my breast. Even now, I was uncertain. I suppose that I had tried to convince myself that it had been a temporary aberration, that everything would return to normal when my husband returned, but her touch did things to me that I could never have imagined. I turned onto my back and hugged her to me but she began to kiss her way slowly down my body. I raised myself a little and took hold of her by the shoulders. "We mustn't..." She looked up at me her eyes pleading. "Please...I want it to be beautiful again...I want it to be you." Her words tugged at my heart. She was so desperate to expunge that morning's events of which I was the cause. I made another half-hearted attempt to stop her but she squirmed away and resumed her downward path. As she kissed my hip she pulled the blankets overhead and closed herself in. She took an age, kissing all the time and moving inch by slow inch, until she lay between my legs. Still there was no urgency. She worked with her fingers until I could feel the wetness seeping from me to dampen the sheet beneath. Even with the blankets sealed I could smell my own excitement and I wondered how it must be for her enclosed in the cloying semi-darkness. My answer came as I heard her groan with pleasure and then I felt her opened mouth upon me. Madelaine's War Now there was no subtlety; there was a delicious suction and her tongue wormed its way deep within. In the space of seconds she took me from pleasurable stupor to the edge of perfect tension. She kept me suspended there and I could feel her tongue seeking out some precise point. When she found it the effect was electrifying. My body stiffened and shook releasing a wellspring inside. She began to swallow but, at the same time, her tongue continued its magical survey and I felt balanced on its very tip. I was panting for breath, silently crying out for a final release, and then it came with shattering crescendo. My ears rang and, for perhaps a minute or more, my body was not mine to command. When it finally passed I still felt the occasional phantom spasm as she gently licked at my belly and thighs before teasingly returning to my sex. I thought that I had no more to give but she was undeterred and I felt her blessing me with gentle kisses. She was lulling me towards a personal nirvana but then she slowed and became still. I waited a moment or two and then gently raised the blanket releasing a warm fug of arousal. Beneath it she lay with her cheek against my sex and her delicate hand resting on my thigh now damp with perspiration. She was asleep with a smile as innocent as it was beautiful. The following morning we were escorted down to the kitchen where we took breakfast with the two girls that I had seen previously and two I had not met. All attempts at conversation were rebuffed and the meal was taken in silence. As soon as it was finished I was given cleaning materials and put to work polishing furniture but Madelaine was kept back in the kitchen and given sink duties. Her severe lack of German was still a worrying concern but she played her part well and the others seemed too afraid to speak whilst they were working. Again, I managed to get a look at a lot of paperwork but nothing worthwhile. At the end of the day we were fed in our room again but with instructions to take a bath and change. Around nine p.m. the housekeeper came for us. She grinned knowingly at Madelaine who favoured her with an innocent smile in return. We were escorted to a part of the building that I had not seen before and ushered into a plush but functional looking office. Madelaine was on edge and, in character or not, she suddenly clung to my arm. The housekeeper laughed but stopped immediately as the door opened. I felt myself tense as Greta Heinzer came into the room in the full dress uniform of an Waffen SS Obersturmfuhrer. It was clearly an affectation and it told me a lot about her. At this stage in the war no one, on either side, was wearing pristine uniform and those that did had to pay a lot for the privilege. Her leather boots, polished to a high shine, would have cost an ordinary rail worker, even a manager, at least two month's wages and I wondered how she was supplementing her military pay. The SOE file on her was scant. She was thirty-seven years old and had studied logistics at a military college in Hamburg but it appeared that she grew disenchanted with the Junker ruling elite and their attitude to women in the armed forces. She became an early convert to the Nazi party and her name resurfaced in the third year of the war when SOE started to piece together disturbing stories of special transports in Germany's Weimar region. Rumour had it that it was her likeness that had been used on some recent propaganda posters that had surfaced in the occupied territories and I could see why. She wore her long blonde hair plaited and twisted at the back of her head in the Bavarian style and this gave prominence to her Nordic features. Her piercing blue eyes surmounted a neat nose and a nicely shaped mouth. If one were critical it might be argued that her chin was a little heavy but, by any standards, she was a very beautiful woman. Madelaine, playing her part, ingenuously looked her up and down taking in the sharp lines of her dark uniform and, for a fleeting instant, I felt an odd pang of jealously. Heinzer probably stood about five nine with the athletic build of someone who probably exercised both often and vigorously and I had the impression that she had had her uniform tailored to lessen the effect of her ample bosom. The housekeeper had proved herself to be overtly cruel but there was something about Heinzer that made me fear her even more. I can usually trust my instincts and I was already giving thought to extricating ourselves but one thing stood in the way. In the corner of the office was a combination locked Stern & Hoeller document cabinet. It was one of two types of office safe popular with the civil governments throughout the Reich and I knew how to open it. Heinzer wasted no time on introductions or pleasantries. She stood in front of Madelaine and lifted her chin with the crook of her finger. "Oh yes..." She smiled at the housekeeper, suggesting that she had done well, and then spoke again. "Take the other one back to her room." The housekeeper moved quickly whispered in her ear and I guessed that she was telling her that Madelaine would be more cooperative if I remained present. Heinzer looked at me as if noticing me for the first time. "No matter. Bring them both." She turned on her heel and left the room with the three of us in tow. We followed her down a short hallway and then into an opulently appointed bedroom which had a curtained four poster as its centrepiece. I quickly took in the details including a sawhorse set in front of the large picture window. If someone was working on the sashes then I could not take a chance on it as a possible means of escape. The housekeeper had obviously borne witness before as she took a seat on the gilded French sofa and impatiently beckoned me to join her. Heinzer now ignored us and turned her attention to Madelaine. It was clear that she had been primed because she simply said. "Undress me..." So much of my life over the past few weeks was geared towards this moment, even to the point of making Madelaine familiar with the German verb 'to undress', but now that it was upon us it seemed surreal. Heinzer sat on the bed to allow Madelaine to remove her boots and then stood again so that she could work the stiff buttons of the uniform jacket. I thought I sensed a hesitancy about her but it was hard to be sure as I was not fully in control of my own emotions. I was angry with myself for putting her through this and it could not be denied that this was now a far more personal feeling. This I could rationalize but I could not account for the strange sensation I felt as she slowly stripped Heinzer naked. It was obvious that Heinzer was comfortable in her nakedness, used to being admired, and not without good cause. Her body fully lived up to its promise and, as we watched she peaked her own nipples to engorgement. Her breasts were large but beautifully shaped and it was a second or two before I noticed that, like Madelaine, she was perfectly depilated down below. She had Madelaine pick up her uniform and fold it carefully whilst she adjusted the bolster on the bed and made herself comfortable. In repose she looked totally self assured a woman used to getting her own way; a woman for whom the war was probably the best thing that could have happened for her. That thought helped me to focus my anger. She slowly raised one knee whilst, at the same time, opening her legs to put herself wantonly on display. She then leant forward a little and patted the counterpane to let Madelaine know exactly where she expected her to place herself. Madelaine visibly balked for a second or two and I moved forward a fraction but then she slowly climbed onto the bed. It seemed to take her an abnormal amount of time to settle, so much so that Heinzer raised a questioning eyebrow, but then she finally applied herself. I was worried that she had not obviously feigned enthusiasm, and I was anxious that I may have pushed her too far, but the first touch of that miraculous mouth had the desired effect. Heinzer moaned appreciatively and settled back. Once again she had to be careful not to reveal all her skills. What aroused these women was the very fact that these girls were ingénues and what they appreciated was their youthful fervour. Notwithstanding, Heinzer lazily issued instructions from time to time telling Madelaine to lick, to put her tongue inside once, even, to suck her. At one point she punctuated her demands by leaning forward and slapping her on the rump but to her credit, Madelaine yelped and then simply carried on. I dared not look at my watch but I guessed that she had been engaged for at least half an hour when Heinzer stroked her cheek and whispered. "Clitoris..." Fortunately the word was the same in German and English and so Madelaine clearly understood but she pretended not to. Heinzer responded by taking hold of her hair and dragging her up a little making the message clear. Not long after she emitted a long, drawn out moan, and her body began to quiver. I gave silent thanks and hoped that she was satisfied. When she had recovered a little she cast Madelaine aside but made no move to get up from the bed. To my astonishment she stroked her sex and then brought her fingers to her mouth to taste her own wetness. She looked directly at me and seemed amused by my discomfort. "You, get over here." It took a second or two to sink in but when it did she must have seen the horror on my face. Madelaine understood more quickly than I did. She gave a childish giggle and quickly moved back onto the bed to interpose herself but Heinzer snarled at the housekeeper. "Take her!" For a woman of her build she moved quickly to grab Madelaine by the arm. When she impulsively began to struggle the housekeeper slapped her sharply across the face. It was almost more than I could do to stop myself from striking back but we had come so far and now I felt that there was a real chance. The true nature of the sawhorse now became hideously apparent. The housekeeper forced her dazed charge over it and, with practised efficiency, she proceeded to bind her with a set of leather straps that she produced from the ornate escritoire. I quickly took stock. I was still confident that I could overpower the pair of them quickly and without drawing attention if needs be but, more importantly, was I prepared to make the sacrifice now demanded of me. The answer was simple. Madelaine had done all that I could have asked of her and more. I could not selfishly allow my own qualms to stand in the way now. "Strip for me." Heinzer smiled cruelly as she spoke having correctly deduced that she had touched a raw nerve. I wavered, but then slowly began to take off my clothes. I just had to get through this and buy myself enough time to check the safe which could take a while to crack. Once I was naked something made me stand proud but my defiance just seemed to amuse her. "You just like to take I think. Well today you are going to learn how to give." She tapped the bed in the same beckoning manner that she had for Madelaine but my legs felt as if they had turned to lead. I could feel my quickening pulse pounding at my temples as I willed myself forward. As I reached the bed she stretched her foot towards me. "Kiss it..." The symbolism was not lost on me, and it stirred up a dangerous hatred within, but I forced myself to remain calm. I did as she asked noticing the faint smell of new leather on her skin. "Well done...now lick it." I put out my tongue but, as I did so, she flexed her leg and presented the sole of her foot. It made me sick to the stomach but I bowed my head. Surprisingly, her skin was very soft, and obviously pampered, with a hint of roses suggesting that she had recently bathed. She had me continue for a while, until her point was made, and then she issued her next command. "Work your way up slowly....take your time." I started at her ankles using my lips and tongue and could not help but marvel at just how smooth her legs were. They obviously received daily attention and my mind turned to the young girls in the kitchen. She seemed content with my sluggish progress but the truth was that I was still trying to fix my resolve. I kissed her knee and moved onto the open plain of her thigh where, for a few seconds, my thoughts drifted. I was used to the rough, functional musculature of a man and this bore no comparison. Her sleek skin yielded slightly to the touch of my tongue and I felt an urge to trace the feminine curves with my hands. I tried to bury this impulse as I moved higher still where I caught her personal scent blended with the heavy musk of the perfume she had applied. Reaching the slight declivity of her inner leg I found her skin still damp from Madelaine's attentions and that somehow gave me renewed determination. I firmed my tongue and traced a wet trail onto the delta of her sex drawing from her a self-indulgent moan of satisfaction as she slowly raised her knees and bounded me with her thighs. "Make it good..." Even now I could not bring myself to make a direct assault. I licked at the margins of her prominent mons but it was enough to convey a trace of her diluted taste. It was not as bad as I feared and I felt emboldened. I ran my tongue over the exposed fringes of her labia and was surprised by how glassy they felt beneath my tongue. Again, there was the faintest taste but it quickly disappeared to leave an odd neutrality. A deep sigh told me that she liked what I was doing but I felt my mouth watering and I realized, with a profound shock, that it a betokened an unwelcome craving. Without thought, I pointed my tongue and pressed a little more firmly. Gaining entry proved more difficult than I imagined and, for a moment, I floundered. Her labia now seemed amorphous and I was no longer sure that I was centred. I heard her laugh quietly and then she used two fingers to press herself open. Like quicksand my tongue was swallowed and my senses were instantly assailed. I knew how warm my own sex could feel beneath my fingers but my tongue revealed an unimagined heat combined with an astonishing wetness. I could feel the living pulse of her and then her taste began to pervade my whole mouth. The earlier hint could not have prepared me for the full richness which I now experienced. There was an essential essence, something of women throughout the ages, and it resonated deep inside me. I began to actively seek it out, a butterfly gathering the nectar of her inner pool, and from this there was a symbiosis. In satisfying this yearning I increased her arousal and assured myself of her libation. How long this madness lasted I could not say but I was suddenly aware of an almost painful pressure. I thought that she was signalling me to stop but then realized that she was in the throes of an intense climax. This achievement gave me an aberrant sense of satisfaction but also a deep feeling of guilt. I just wanted to close out the world for a moment to try and understand what was happening to me. As the final tremors subsided I disengaged and looked up at Heinzer and her expression told me that she too had been taken unawares but I sensed that this lack of self control had also angered her in some way. With an effort she raised herself over me. "On your back..." Her terse demand raised my hackles but I meekly obeyed and was relieved to ease the strain in my aching neck muscles. She peremptorily pushed my arms out to the sides and then proceeded to pin them with her knees and straddle my face. My mind flew back to our encounter with Evelyn and her step-mother but now I was the victim and Heinzer was certainly a more terrifying proposition than Madelaine. Her thighs which, just moments before, had seemed so shapely now assumed a more intimidating aspect as she closed them to the sides of my head. With a menacing glint in her eye she slowly came to rest with her sex sealing my mouth. "Lick..." Her weight made it difficult to comply but I did my best conscious all the while of a simmering compulsion to bond more intimately. She, for her part, was sated, at least for now. As I licked she began to grind her hips smearing her sex over my whole face. I tried to turn my head to spare my nose but she clamped her thighs tightly and rode me more forcefully. Within seconds I became uncomfortably hot but perspiring simply compounded my misery. Just as I thought I had reached a nadir she shifted her centre of gravity and settled fully on my face with her thighs closed. I was plunged into a suffocating darkness and found it difficult to breathe. After a few seconds I was on the point of fighting her off but she read the moment and lifted herself just a little. I gasped for air but breathed the hot, damp, atmosphere of my own enclosed cave. A quick glance upwards confirmed her cruel amusement just before she sealed me in once more. This time I managed to fill my lungs but she seemed determined to test my limits. She closed me in over and over again and, each time she did, it increased her arousal. Everything was wetness. My hair was lank and my face felt as if steam would rise from it. Even the bed beneath my head was damp adding to the fetid miasma each time she closed her thighs. Finally, she tired of humiliating me and wanted something for herself. I flexed my tired tongue in preparation but she went back to the beginning. Taking hold of my head, and keeping her upper body still, she began to rub herself over my face. She thrust her pelvis, quickly building up a pitiless rhythm and the effort left her panting like a steam train. Fortunately, it did not take long. I felt, rather than heard, the long groan that heralded the onset of her third orgasm and some part of me grudgingly admired her stamina. She eased back from my face but only to rest on my sternum which still made breathing difficult. I must have looked a wreck but I had come through it. Unfortunately, she must have seen the hint of defiance in my eyes. "Up!" She punctuated her terse whisper by tugging me upright on the bed. I knelt at the foot whilst she took hold of the bolster and pulled it towards her. The following few seconds seemed to pass in slow motion and will forever remained etched in my memory. With feline grace she draped herself over the bolster presenting the taut curves of her derriere. I had never seen anything quite so perfect outside of a museum or gallery but the tableau suggested the inconceivable. I looked at her in unfeigned astonishment but she simply rested her chin on her intertwined fingers and smiled. "Do it..." My mind was numb I and remained frozen in place whilst she looked back at me with growing annoyance. I had forgotten that the housekeeper was still present but Heinzer now addressed her. "Show her what happens." In response, she rose from the sofa and crossed to the escritoire. She lowered the writing table to reveal not the expected ink and paper but a menacing Luger pistol and a vicious looking dog whip. She took out the pistol and put it to one side, and I could not be sure if she had set in there in readiness, but then I focused on the clearer threat of the whip. Madelaine closed her eyes and visibly winced as the housekeeper shook out the single leather plait and looked towards Heinzer who simply nodded. It then happened so quickly. The whip became a blur as she skilfully pulled it through the air finishing in a single sickening smack and a piercing scream from Madelaine. I was almost overcome with rage and already unconsciously rehearsing the way to neutralize them both but I had made a cardinal error and allowed them the essential element of control. Madelaine's War My body was stiff from my recent exertions, and I knew that split seconds counted, but, worse still, the housekeeper now had a gun to hand and I could not take the chance that she did not know how to use it. Madelaine was crying piteously and I could see the vivid red welt that had been raised across her exposed buttocks. I knew that there was only one way out of this. Heinzer knew she had won and she relaxed once more. I was almost in a trance as I knelt behind her. Those twin hemispheres filled my vision but I felt as if I were seeing the gates to perdition. As I drew closer I was taunted by the sight of her half hidden sex. It seemed almost welcoming but I knew that I was simply trying to avoid the inevitable. I could feel an almost unnatural heat radiating from her as I fought the last few inches until the tip of my tongue made the first illicit contact. Pausing to gather myself I noted that her skin tasted of her arousal where her sex had seeped but, as I hazarded a first tentative survey, slowly moving upwards, I caught the tang of salt overlaying the musty hint of perspiration. I wanted to feel repelled but my tongue in some way welcomed the varying stimuli. I licked again forging a long trail from the boundary of her sex almost up to the small of back. She squirmed a little and I repeated the process keenly aware of the smoothness of her skin but I could not avoid the beckoning hollow in the darkest shade of the valley. The tight contours emphasised its forbidden nature but I knew her too well now to expect any benevolence. She had me lick for a long while, heightening the tension, but then she reached back with both hands to cast light into the shadows. "You know what I want..." I wanted to look away but the spell was cast. It only had to be done once, and never again, but then came a revelation. For a few seconds I looked into a possible future, a future with Madelaine, and the knowledge that I would willingly do anything for her. In some manner it felt like a betrayal but it gave me the strength that I needed. I imagined it was her before me, welcoming me adoration, and I experienced a blissful sense of fulfilment which seem centred on my sex. Riding this wave of mild euphoria I brought my mouth to that inviolable place and braced my tongue. It seemed unassailable but, as I redoubled my efforts, I felt her working with me, slowly relaxing. We gradually became attuned and I felt the threshold yield to the tip of my tongue. I paused briefly then, with one final, determined, push I was through. The pressure of her muscles was almost painful but then it eased as she began to accommodate me and it felt as if my tongue were breathing inside her. The taste, thus revealed, was little different to that I had discovered in first licking at the entrance and for that I was grateful. She kept me there for some minutes, and I guessed that she was trying to scale the peak one final time, but she had no more to give. With a petulant sigh she had to let me go thinking, no doubt, of the many days to come. It took me a few moments to recover but I was anxious to see Madelaine freed. So it was with disbelief that I turned to find the housekeeper sitting with her legs wide open and a single finger pointed meaningfully down towards her sex. Chapter 7 I gave it two hours after we were returned to our room. I woke Madelaine and led the way back to the Heinzer's office. Fortunately, the marshalling yards were operational through the night and, by opening the curtains, we were granted enough light to see by. It was a while since I had honed my safe cracking skills but fortunately Heinzer had an old model and I could feel the worn tumblers as well as hear them. It took less than five minutes to gain access. There were few documents in there but I felt an exhilaration when I saw that they included detailed manifests. I quickly worked out that the white sheets represented through traffic whilst the yellow sheets represented local services including those destined for the facility. As I separated out the yellow sheets Madelaine whispered. "If they're concerned about this place why don't they just bomb it?" "We're too far south. A precision raid would probably take heavy losses and they won't make the sacrifice unless they're certain. With the sheets separated I took a pencil and wrote out a formula. Madelaine could not speak German but she could still be useful. "Go through this pile and see if you can find anything that looks like this." I took the other half and began looking for the same formula which I had committed to memory. After ten minutes I had found nothing in my pile and looked hopefully at Madelaine. "Sorry, nothing, but if you are looking for heavy water I don't think you'll find it near a centre of population." As she said the words I did not breathe. I was convinced, in those seconds, that Madelaine was not who she seemed and my instincts were telling me that she was now a very serious threat. I had only heard those words spoken by one other person. That person was the Prime Minister's personal scientific advisor and the meeting was at the highest security level that I had ever attended. Madelaine realized what was amiss. "I'm a physicist for Christ's sake! The Americans were looking at using heavy water to facilitate a bomb before the war even started. Professor Einstein has published papers on the subject. I think what you're looking for is this." She pointed to a sheet on which another chemical formula appeared a number of times. "This is molybdenum and they seem to shipping it on an industrial scale." "What is it used for?" "It can be used for tempering steel, making it more resilient." "So you think that they are producing armour...or shells perhaps?" "If I had to guess, given that it's BMW, I would say turbines." "Turbines?" "Think of them as fans, to be used in aircraft jet engines. Our people have been working on them at home for years. If the Germans were to get viable jets into the sky in any substantial numbers it might just turn the war in their favour." I could have kissed her. It was now imperative that we got the information out. I quickly gathered the documents and locked them away but as I stood up the room blazed into light. The housekeeper stood in the doorway with a Mauser hunting rifle and the way she held it slightly low, to allow for recoil, told me she knew exactly how to use it. "What is going on here? She had obviously reached her own conclusion and did not wait for an answer. "Out!" If I had been alone I would have rushed at her but Madelaine was petrified to stillness. I took her by the arm and allowed the housekeeper to shepherd us down into the basement of the building. The area was taken up by the former police cells but they were still clearly functional. She pushed Madelaine, screaming, into a single cell with a solid door. I was thrown into a more traditional cell with jail bars. Seated in the corner, dressed in nothing more than a grubby white shift, was a young woman. As soon as I saw her I knew who she was. "Elise? We thought you were dead." "As good as." "They found out who you were?" "No. I got onto her staff, I managed to smuggle a couple of messages, then it was my turn. When younger girls are in short supply she's quite happy to take her pleasure where she can. My cover shows no listed relatives, no one to report me missing." "Are you okay?" Her eyes looked into the middle distance as she replied. "I refused at first...the things she tried to make me do...but she can be very persuasive." She lifted the shift a little, almost shamefully, and I drew a sharp breath. Her legs were a tapestry of bruises, old and new, and the criss-cross of welt marks bore testament to their origin. She covered herself and, taking my hand, spoke more urgently. "When did you get here? What's happened?" "There's no time to explain. We need to get out of here. How long before we can expect the Gestapo?" "Does she know what you were doing?" "The housekeeper found us in Heinzer's office, she can't be in much doubt, she brought us straight down here." She thought for a moment. "If Heinzer is in her bedroom she wouldn't dare to disturb her. We may have a little time." "We have to get her to come back in here so that we can overpower her." "She's no fool. She won't come in." "There must be something. Could you feign illness?" "She'd ignore it. Not unless you were one of the 'special ones'." "There has to be something..." The solution came to me at the same time that it came to her. "Would it work?" "She's like clockwork. She'll check back on the hour." I checked my watch, saw that that gave us less than five minutes, and took her hand. "It would have to be for real...she would know otherwise." She looked back at me trying to brave face on her otherwise uneasy countenance. "I understand." I touched her on the shoulder. "Sit on the edge of the bed...open your legs." She blinked uncomprehendingly and then stood up abruptly. "No. It has to be you. I'm not strong enough to take her." My mind raced. It was true that she was physically weakened; I did not wish to add to her trauma but there was no time left to argue. I lifted my dress and quickly removed my underwear before settling onto the bed. She, for her part, took the thin pillow and placed it on the cold stone floor to protect her knees. As she made her obeisance I felt adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream. My body was readying itself for an act of physical violence and also something more but I had no time to consider guilt. For a moment she stared at my wantonly displayed sex but I could see that her resolve was faltering. It was one thing to be forced to this but another altogether to undertake it of her own volition. In a moment of clarity I knew what I had to do. I took hold of her chin and raised her eyes to mine. "Eat me!" I do not know where the words came from but the shock of the command had the desired effect. She leaned in and I had to bite my lip when I felt the warmth of her mouth closed about my sex. She shuddered when she found that I was already wet but she kept to her task. She found a rhythm and, as she continued to labour, I tried to listen out. I became convinced that the housekeeper had returned and that, somewhere out of sight, she too was listening. I relaxed a little and began to moan as I gave in to the pleasurable sensations. She had nothing of Madelaine's innate skills but her training had imbued her with a slavish enthusiasm. Still the housekeeper did not appear and I recognized that I was reaching a dangerous tipping point. I was losing the essential muscular tension that I needed to act and I made a rapid decision. "Make me come!" She looked up at me, wide eyed, through the fuzz of my sex but she understood. I felt her tongue lancing deep inside of me and then she took my clitoris between her lips and began to gently suck. "Yes!!" The resultant orgasm drove all else from my mind. Everything seemed wiped out by a blinding white light whose intensity was only matched by the rapidly expanding ripples of ecstasy radiating from my sex. When I was finally able to compose myself it was to find the sneering smile of the housekeeper looming over me. She was still armed with the rifle which was pointed squarely at my supplicant urging her not to stop. For the space of a few insane seconds I was almost tempted to surrender to her continuing ministrations but then I got a grip. A coldness came over me as she used the end of the rifle to playfully raise the thin shift to reveal a breast scarred by the whip. I was still breathing hard but now I channelled it. I pushed Elise from me and, caught unawares, she fell backwards with the rifle still snagged in her shift. The housekeeper, in trying to keep hold of it, was momentarily off balance and, from my prone position, I punched her in the kidneys with all the force of which I was capable. It was a punch that would have put most men down but she fell to her knee with a roar and started to rise. I stood and drew back my hand ready to use my open palm to drive her nose upwards into the front of her brain but Elise acted quicker. She pulled the rifle free and swung it in a wide arc. The heavy stock caved in the back of the housekeepers head with a lethal crunch of bone. She was probably dead before she hit the floor. Elise was in shock and I had to shake her vigorously. "Look for her keys!...I'll check outside." A quick survey of the anteroom turned up nothing of use and I ran back to the cell. Elise looked up at me. "No keys..." I checked the door where there was a single key in the lock. A few seconds later I knew that the same key would not open Madelaine's cell. I tried to stay calm and trawled my memory. In my time in the building I could not remember seeing any keys stored. Elise came to my side. "We have to go. As soon as they find her there will be hell to pay. We have to put some distance between us." She was right but, more importantly, I had to relay what I now knew. I looked at the forbidding door of Madelaine's cell knowing that she was terrified with no idea of what was going on. I desperately wanted to shout out to her but knew that it be would more cruel to give her false hope. She was expendable. It had always been that way. Elise pulled at me but I pushed her away. I cursed and hot tears blinded my eyes. I put fingers against the door as if I could feel her on the other side. My legs would hardly move as Elise dragged me away and it was only the sharp night air that finally brought me to my senses. The plan had been to leave by night and to make our way on foot to the border. The Maquis had agreed to be at the rendezvous point at midnight each night and to wait for exactly one hour. Elise was in no state to walk the whole way; she was weak and without clothes but I was not going to leave two of them behind. I took the rifle and left her sheltering in the shadows whilst I darted back into the building. All still seemed quiet and I hurried up to my room to collect clothes and shoes. As I did so I wondered about the others in the house, the 'special ones', but there was little I could do for them. That thought triggered something. Checking my watch I padded along the corridor and down the flight of stairs. My heart was beating fast as I arrived at Heinzers room and put my ear to the door. I slowly turned the handle and gave a silent prayer when I found that the door was unlocked. I slipped into the room but nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greeted me. Heinzer was standing sublimely naked in the centre of the room, an amazon queen, mistress of all she surveyed. She was being attended by two acolytes, one kneeling before her lavishing oral attention on her sex whilst the other knelt behind echoing my own submission only hours before. It was some seconds before they even noticed me but then all three of them turned towards me in shock. Heinzer recovered quickly and then, to my astonishment, she looked down at the two young girls. "I did not tell you to stop." With obvious nervousness they took up where they had left off and it was a second or two before I had the presence of mind to raise the rifle. "I want the key to the cell..." She looked at me as if weighing me up. "Or what? You'll shoot me in cold blood? I don't think so." I despised the way that she was capable of getting into my head. I had been called upon to kill just two people but neither of them in cold blood. I was tempted to wound her but a shot from the rifle was capable of tearing off her arm. Then something else came to me. I crossed the room and rapped the barrel across thigh. The two girls fell away in flight and with Heinzers sang-froid now disturbed I ushered her towards the sawhorse. "Bend over it." Her expression spat defiance but she knew, as I did, that time was not on my side. She prostrated herself and I turned to the girls. "Bind her!" They balked at the command but the menace of the rifle was sufficient. They retrieved the straps and tied her down. As soon as she was secure I put down the rifle and took out the dog whip. I did not ask the question again, I simply slashed the whip down across her perfect cheeks with all the strength at my command. Showing more resilience than I anticipated she grunted through gritted teeth and then spoke. "I don't have the key. My housekeeper is in charge." I remorselessly struck her a second time. "The door to that cell locks automatically. My guess is that you want to keep "the special ones" all to yourself. That's why I think that there is only one key...and you know where it's kept." I could see from her eyes that I had hit on the truth but I also saw her total defiance. Time was running out but I had one last card to play. I had one of the girls stand behind her and pull up Heinzer's head by the hair...then I drew back the whip. "At best this is going to open up your cheek...at worst you are going to lose an eye...do they still prize duelling scars in Heidelberg?" I saw immediately that I had found her weakness. Her look was venomous but she gave me what I wanted. Armed with the key I hastened to the cells taking the two girls with me. Madelaine cried and threw herself into my arms but I pushed her away. "We must hurry." I apologised to the two girls as I ushered them into the cell and locked it. It would be better for them to be found that way when the authorities inevitably made their appearance. Elise looked angry when I returned after so long a delay but when Madelaine was introduced she calmed down. The shoes were a poor fit and I asked her. "How far do you think you can walk?" Before she could reply Madelaine interjected. "We can do better than that. Come with me." We followed her to the rear of the building which gave on to the marshalling yards. "There. I saw it yesterday. They keep a shunter permanently under steam." I looked at her incredulously but she just smiled. "My father spent his life restoring traction engines. I was brought up around steam, it's what led to my interest in physics." It seemed like lunacy but, whilst there were still a number of workers around there were none in the immediate vicinity of the shunter. The three of us crossed the narrow span of open ground and two sets of tracks. At the footplate Madelaine climbed up. She took a moment to survey the controls, and I feared that she had overstated her abilities, but then she beckoned us aboard. The dark space stank of coal and oil but the warmth of the boiler felt strangely comforting. Madelaine began to work the controls when I perceived a new problem. "This thing is pointed east..." Madelaine laughed as she opened a valve. "It can go backwards you know." With that the locomotive began to move, slowly gathering speed, and Madelaine shouted above the increasing noise. "Keep an eye out for points. We may have to switch them." Two minutes later we were out of the yards and heading into open country and I started to think. "We will have to cross the border on foot. Can you stop us this side of Bad Krozingen? In the end we had to guess distances and Madelaine brought us to a stop under a canopy of trees. As we got down onto the damp undergrowth Elise looked back at the locomotive. "Should we not try and put it beyond use?" Madelaine looked at us and then climbed back aboard. "We can do better than that..." When she climbed down the engine started back the way it came slowly gathering speed. Ten minutes later, as we skirted Krozingen, the sky was suddenly lit up and we heard the distant sound of the crash.