4 comments/ 75477 views/ 20 favorites Resistance By: Colleen Thomas The Luger felt cold and heavy in Anne-Marie's small hand. She hated guns, violence, confrontation, and was by nature timid and reserved. Under normal circumstances she would be home now, or maybe out with Polly at the girl's club, in the underground. I wish I was anywhere but here, she thought. Circumstances were far from normal, for this was Paris in 1943 and Anne-Marie had joined her countrymen in resisting the German invaders. She was not at all what one would assume a member of the Resistance should look like. At barely five feet tall and one hundred pounds she was had the trim figure of a dancer. Hazel eyes gazed out of a delicately featured face and were framed by a mass of black locks. Her slim hips, small chest, and youthful looks allowed her to pass herself off as a schoolgirl, even though she was almost twenty-four. She saw the shadowy figures of Jean Claude and Pierre flit up the darkened street and gripped the gun tightly. She was the lookout tonight, standing in a darkened doorway she blended into the shadows. She would fire a warning shot and then escape down the street if she saw any Germans coming. The two men took up stations outside Madam Garnet's whorehouse and waited as a silent rain began to fall. The door opened and the music of a piano drifted softly down the street along with the musical sound of women laughing. A few moments later two men in black uniforms started down the stairs. The quiet of the Paris night was shattered by gunfire, as the two freedom fighters sprayed bullets at the men on the stairway. The two SS officers went down, but a horrible sound quickly followed. It was a tearing sound, like a fine dress being ripped in half, but infinitely more frightening. Both freedom fighters turned and fled, screaming for her to run as bullets whined down the darkened street. Anne-Marie knew that sound and cringed, it was a German machine gun. Anne-Marie bolted, fleeing as fast as her lithe legs would carry her through the dark Paris night. She dodged down the darkened streets, quickly becoming lost in the maze of apartments. She could hear the boots of pursuing soldiers and a shouted order in German to halt. When she kept running a shot rang out, followed by more. Soon a hail of bullets whined and ricocheted after her. She prayed as she ran. She heard an engine then, it may have been just a passing car but her fear made it sound like a tank and she dared not look back. A stairway beckoned and she ran up it, the door at the top was closing and she threw herself against it, forcing her way in, slamming the door and drawing the bolt. "Quite an entrance child, what do you do for an encore?" a cultured voice behind her questioned. Anne-Marie whirled and faced the speaker. She was a tall, statuesque woman in her late forties, with blonde hair, blue eyes and creamy skin. Her long legs were concealed by the maroon skirt she wore, revealing only her button up boots and her matronly bust strained against the fabric of a white silk blouse, this was clasped at the neck with a single star shaped pendant. She had a damp umbrella in her hand, and a very stylish broad brimmed hat. Anne-Marie recognized her at once, Countess Von Shoenstoffen, wife to the SS garrison commander. Anne-Marie immediately produced the Luger and motioned for the women to be silent by placing her finger over her lips. If the gun, or the intrusion frightened the tall blonde in the least she didn't show it. Feet pounded past on the street outside and orders were shouted in German, Anne-Marie held her breath, but no one knocked on the door. "It seems you plan to stay a while, you might as well make yourself comfortable," the blonde woman said. Her French was flawless, tainted only by a very slight German accent. Anne-Marie looked at the woman in surprise. Their eyes locked and as they stared at each other she thought she saw emotion in the deep blue eyes. Sardonic humor, pity, compassion and something else, something more disturbing than the woman's fearlessness, hunger. Something passed between them, something intangible but very real and Anne-Marie knew the rumors she had heard were true. She flushed deeply, but the gun in her hand never wavered. When the silence stretched out to minutes the older woman spoke again, "Are we going to stand here in the foyer all night? The drawing room is much more comfortable, and intimate," Anne-Marie still couldn't speak, those knowing blue eyes unnerved her. She had been so careful, so discreet, but in that one glance this strange woman knew her secret. She could hear the indistinct sounds of men in the streets, the soldiers had not given up, and she knew she was in grave danger, but she could not keep her eyes off the woman's chest. "At least tell me your name?" the Countess asked after another long silence. Anne-Marie's eyes lifted from the woman's large bosom to her face. Their eyes locked again and she felt herself shiver. "Anne-Marie," she whispered. "That's a lovely name. My name is Elkie. Now that we are more or less formally introduced let's go to the parlor, I am not accustomed to receiving guests in my hallway, and you are shivering," she said in an imperious manner. Ignoring the gun, she turned gracefully and walked through an opening off the hallway, depositing her umbrella in a beautiful guilt stand as she passed. Anne-Marie could do nothing to stop her, not even order her to stop, her mouth was to dry to speak. Carefully, Anne-Marie walked down the hall and peeked into the room. The sitting room was beautifully appointed. It was decorated in antique furniture, mostly in the German mode, tastefully decked out in French laces and silks. Elkie was pouring two glasses of wine from a crystal decanter as if it were not out of the ordinary to have a woman with a gun burst into her home. She took a goblet in each hand and sat on the settee motioning for Anne-Marie to join her. Despite her fear Anne-Marie did as she was bidden, she felt strange, hot and tingly and when she recognized what she was feeling she blushed again. Once the Frenchwoman was seated at the far end of the settee and had a goblet of wine in her hand the German smiled. "This is much nicer than the hallway, wouldn't you agree child?" "Yes, it is," Anne-Marie grudgingly admitted. She was still holding the gun, she was a member of the Resistance, she should have been in control of this situation, but she knew she wasn't, and she felt Elkie knew it too. They sipped their wine in silence. Elkie drank hers with obvious relish and her eyes roamed lustfully up and down Anne-Marie's petite frame. Anne-Marie sipped hers mechanically, while her ears strained to catch any noise from out on the street. Elkie finished her wine and put the empty goblet on the table next to her. Her eyes returned to the smaller woman and she gave her that hungry stare and scooted closer. Anne-Marie's eyes were glued to Elkie's breasts now, they were so full, so large, they seemed ready to bust out of the tightly stretched silk top at any moment. Why did she have to look like that? Anne-Marie thought. She had never been able to resist such women; large women with matronly figures and large busts were her downfall, ever since Malena. Especially when they took charge in that motherly sort of way, she had no resistance at all then. With her life threatened sex should have been the last thing on her mind, but the fear and the adrenalin of her earlier flight only seemed to add to the fire in her loins that this woman was provoking with those hungry glances. "There, there, ma petite, it will be all right. Sleeping with the garrison commander infers certain privileges, one of which is privacy. You are perfectly safe here," she said in a soothing tone. Her hand slipped past the gun and patted Anne-Marie's knee. A jolt of pleasure shocked her system from this simple contact. Elkie did not remove her hand but gently squeezed and Anne-Marie felt her will to resist drowning in her need. She had been celibate since the night Paris fell. Working with the resistance was a constant rush of adrenalin, always afraid, always tense. It left her wrung out most nights and the fear of informers was so prevalent she dared not frequent the few places she knew where she might meet other women. Her regular lover had fled to Nice and most of her friends had gone underground, leaving her with no outlet save hurried masturbation on those rare nights where she could find the energy and wasn't out helping her countrymen hinder the invaders. Anne-Marie felt Elkie's other hand on the gun now, tugging it from her suddenly weak grip. She couldn't resist. Oh why does she have to look like that? she thought. Elkie placed the gun on the table next to her empty wine goblet then turned her full attention to Anne-Marie. She continued to gently squeeze her knee, there was nothing overtly sexual in the caress, but Anne's thin dress did nothing to lessen the contact and her mind was quickly running away with her. She could feel the heat of the older woman's hand and the fire it was producing between her legs was becoming impossible to ignore. A sudden pounding on the door sent a frenzied panic through her. She tried to reach past the larger woman for her gun, but the big blonde snatched it up. Captured! Caught like a child because I can't control my own body, she thought bitterly. Anne-Marie remembered the small capsule in her shoe. Death was far preferable to what the Germans would do to her. Elkie held the gun on her and placed her finger over her lips. She then did something that stunned Anne-Marie. She tossed the gun into the Frenchwoman's lap and went to the door. The frightened Frenchwoman grabbed up her pistol, but the front door was already opening and she was trapped in the parlor. Anne-Marie had grown up in the Alsace-Lorraine and so spoke German, not well, but well enough to understand the exchange going on at the door. "I am sorry to disturb you Frauline, but there is a dangerous partisan on the loose, I am afraid we must search your apartments," "Do you know who I am?" Elkie's voice replied, cool, unruffled, totally without fear or respect. "Yes, Frau Shoenstoffen, I am aware of your identity," "Then you know that there is no possibility a partisan has taken refuge in my home, there is no one here save myself and my maid," "That may be, but it is still my duty to search," the officer replied stubbornly. "Very well Herr Oberst, but do not think my husband will not hear of this indignity. I shudder to think what he will do when he learns that you and your men barged into his home, traipsing mud on the floors and treating me like a common criminal. I can assure you that Herr Ribbentrop will also hear of it. I hope you have packed warmly, I hear it is very cold on the Eastern Front," "I am most sorry Frau Shoenstoffen, I lost two men to these animals and my emotions have mastered my reason, there is of course no reason to search your home, and I beg your pardon," "It is understandable Herr Oberst, good hunting," His reply was cut off by the door firmly closing. Elkie breezed back into the parlor as if nothing had happened. She poured herself more wine and returned to the settee, seemingly as unconcerned as she would have if the man at the door had been a delivery boy with the wrong address. "Why did you do that?" Anne-Marie asked, her voice sounded small and disbelieving in her own ears. When Elkie replied the words were halting, hesitant, as if she were articulating deeply held beliefs for the first time and struggling for the right words. "I was born to privilege, even the depression and disintegration of the Weimar government did not impose any hardship upon me. Like many Germans, I was thrilled when we tossed off the shackles of Versailles and began to rebuild. I saw it as right, and proper when we reclaimed our lost territories. The Rhineland, the Sarr, even the Sudetenland, but I became worried when we annexed Austria. The invasion of Poland opened my eyes to the growing evil in my beloved Fatherland. This was never a German territory, and we had no right. I saw the depredations we visited on the poor Poles firsthand, and my heart went out to them," "But you are married to an SS commander," "My marriage to Herman is strictly a matter of convenience. We have never shared a bed and I find his touch to be loathsome. Oh, he has preached to me many times about my duty as a German woman to have babies for the Fuehrer and all of that other rubbish. He has tried every argument, but in the end he is too attached to the title Baron Von Shoenstoffen to push me too far. For my part I get the freedom to continue to pursue and take to my bed any woman I choose, without fear of the Gestapo arresting me for immorality. I also have the freedom to travel, and have used my own family's connections to aide friends. Contrary to what the English broadcasts tell you, we are not all blood thirsty, slavering Huns," "Why did you help me?" "You are quite attractive, it isn't the only reason, but it was certainly one of the factors in your favor. I had only just returned from a fruitless night of searching for a new lover when you burst in. You looked scared and lost and I instantly felt pity for you. I also saw that there was determination in your face, and you held your pistol steady, I admired you for your courage. I would probably have aided you if you had been old and ugly, or even a man, but it was a particularly easy decision given the circumstances," Anne-Marie did not know what to say, the situation was so surreal to her. A hammering on the door of the next apartment startled her and she jumped to her feet, her gaze darting fearfully around the room. "Relax child, you are perfectly safe here. No soldier would dare knock on this door after my little talk with his commander. As long as you are here, you are as safe as you would be in your mother's arms," "Nowhere is safe," "Poor thing, how long have you been running?" "Since the beginning," The lights went out suddenly, and the echoing report of the guns began. Sirens wailed and a massive explosion sounded somewhere near. Anne-Marie jumped, she could not stand loud noises, not since the day a bomb destroyed her home and killed her family in Metz. Of that day she remembered only the noise clearly, everything else was fire and pain. She found later that she had been dragged from the rubble in a catatonic state. She had returned to Paris in one of the long refugee trains, oblivious to the world around her. She might have languished in one of the overcrowded city hospitals if Polly had not recognized her. The aspiring nurse was one of her cousin's best friends and they had been intimate on several occasions. Polly had taken her to her small home and nursed her back to health. They had had only a few weeks together before she had fled to Algeria. Polly's mother was a Jew, and that meant relocation if she were caught after the roundups began. A second explosion rocked the room and Anne-Marie screamed. She felt a pair of incredibly strong, yet infinitely gentle arms warp around her. She found herself cradled tightly to the big woman's large soft breasts and she could feel them beneath her cheek as she struggled. "Shhhh, it's just an air raid child, those bombs are hitting the marshalling yard, far from here," Another explosion sounded and Anne-Marie whimpered like an injured animal. She was loosing her mind and could feel the overwhelming fear and dread crushing her. It was becoming hard to breathe and she gasped for air. Air raids terrified her, but on top of tonight's fear, it was simply too much for the young woman to bear. "Child? Anne-Marie? Are you all right?" The words seemed to come from far away, she could feel herself beginning to shiver and twitch uncontrollably. She was vaguely aware of Elkie moving, but she had no real idea of what the older woman was doing. She was lost in a swirling cyclone of fear and it was quickly drawing her under, back to that place of nothingness. She had only barely escaped the first time, and then only with Polly's help, she knew instinctively if she ever returned it would be for good. Her mind groped for something, anything to tie her to reality. She felt something soft press against her cheek. Her reeling mind tried to draw in that one sensation and examine it. By now it was pressed against her lips, they parted of their own accord. It was hard, but surrounded by soft warm flesh. A nipple? she thought. She felt a warm, soft hand stroke her cheek and without thought she began to pull at the nipple. Another crashing explosion sent her conscious mind to the dark safety of the void. Like a small child, she clung to the soft breast and suckled. She was content and happy, oblivious to the falling bombs and crashing guns. Her mind returned to her slowly. The lights were back on, and the sirens had ceased to wail. The night was quiet, no longer filed with the booming of guns and falling of bombs. She was in a very beautiful room. She became aware of the nipple in her mouth. It was hard, and slick with her saliva. She jerked her head away and sat up, blushing furiously. Elkie smiled at her and began to tuck her breast back into her blouse. "I am so sorry, I cannot take the bombs," Anne-Marie stammered. "Don't be embarrassed, you are not the first to find comfort at my breast, are you all right?" Elkie asked, pausing with her fingers on the button to her blouse. "Yes... I... Thank you," Elkie chuckled. "It was my pleasure I assure you," Anne-Marie blushed again. She wanted to say something, but her gaze was drawn to the pale expanse of the German woman's upper chest. The gentle swell of her breasts seemed wondrous and enthralling. She tore here eyes away from the generous cleavage and found her eyes locked with the blonde woman's. Elkie smiled, and slowly undid the few remaining buttons. Here eyes never left Anne-Marie's as she tugged the shirttails out of her skirt, both of her breasts spilled out , free of the restraining silk at last. She then extended her hand to Anne-Marie. In a trance the petite girl extended her own hand. Elkie tugged her back down into her lap. The bigger woman took her left breast in her hand and gently guided it to them smaller woman's lips. Anne-Marie could feel the turgid nipple slide along her lips. She knew she shouldn't allow this to happen. This woman was the enemy, but she had been so kind and gentle. "Come ma petite, this one feels neglected," Elkie cooed. That gentle coaxing was all it took, Anne-Marie' s lips parted and she sucked the nipple and part of the large aureole into her mouth. She heard the older woman's contented sigh, as her tongue rolled over the fat nipple. For a while she suckled like a child, but her rising excitement led to more aggressive licking and tonguing. The contented sigh gave way to a quiet moan of pleasure. Elkie's hand slipped from Anne-Marie's cheek, down over her chest and eventually rested on her flat belly. The big woman's hand began to clench and relax and it was only when she felt the cool air on her thighs that Anne-Marie realized the hem of her dress was being pulled up. Soon the simple dress was bunched at her waist and only the thin cotton of her knickers kept the cool night air from her flesh. She was excited now, and when Elkie's hand brushed her mound she moaned into the big breast. Elkie, gently pulled her breast out of Anne-Marie's mouth. It made a popping sound, as it came away from her still pursed lips. "You are driving me to distraction ma petite. I want you, but not here. The bedroom is more appropriate for such adventures," She stood and pulled Anne-Marie to her feet. Elkie made no move to cover her breasts and Anne-Marie could see the white taffeta chemise that had covered them. This was pulled down underneath the heavy mummeries, staining to hold their weight. The older woman seemed unconcerned that the garment might be ruined. Anne-Marie wished she could afford such luxuries, her cotton chemise was so plain. Elkie took her hand and led her up the polished wood stairs. Resistance For several nights artillery blasted the feeble French defenses then the guns fell silent. We knew the Germans were coming but being far out in the country side little news reached us. We had no radio and outsiders did not come here now that the German army had taken all the major cities. Our little field of vines and olive trees seemed unimportant in the schemes of generals. One morning a German staff car pulled up to the chateau and a smallish, older man in an officer's uniform was assisted by a corporal with short cropped blond hair who towered like a giant beside the older man. The officer walked past his young chauffer to our door. I greeted him cheerfully. "I am Phillip Letourneaux, welcome to Chateaux Letourneaux. Can I help you?" "You speak English? Good, my French is poor, I am Colonel Schmidt. May I look around your property?" he asked as he stepped into the house. I showed him the house, the barns, the winery and we walked through the fields. I explained that the grapes were a little late this year and so we may need to blend a little more merlot than usual but I expected a decent year. My wife served fresh bread and wine followed by her very strong coffee. Justine is French and also speaks German. The Colonel seemed impressed by her and enjoyed speaking with her in his native tongue. As he left the Colonel explained that there would be troops coming to the area and each house would be expected to billet a few soldiers. I said we could accommodate several men and with a wave through the window of the car he left. It was several more days before we heard any more about troops. It was said that some of our neighbours had joined the resistance but no one approached me. I was considered an outsider. I had come from England a few years earlier. My uncle owned this place and as he had no children had left it to me when he died. Justine I had met when I came for holidays. Her father ran a small hotel in the village and we hit it off as teenagers. When I moved here to manage the winery, she helped me deal with the local merchants and negociants as I spoke very little French. Our love for each other and this land grew and we married. One day another staff car arrived at our door. This time it carried a more important officer. Baron Von Wienhapps, General. He looked to be about forty, tall with blond hair that he continuously brushed from his forehead. "Monsieur Letourneax," he addressed me, "We have selected your home to billet me and my staff. You and your family will move into the workers quarters behind the barn. My staff and I will use your house. Do you have any problems with that?" "No, I understand. We will co-orperate. How long will you be with us?" I replied. "I am hoping to be home for Christmas but there are no guarantees. Please start moving out immediately, I will return with my staff tomorrow." With that the General, clicked his heels and saluted, bowed and left. Justine was not impressed. She thought I should have shown more resistance but I told her that it was futile. The Germans will take or use whatever they want and hurt or kill anyone that gets in their way. I said I would wait for the right time to fight back but for now we should watch and learn what we can. We removed all we could from the house and packed away the fine china. We put our fragile and valuable belongings in the old wine cellar. It had a broken door and the stairs carved in dirt a century or more ago were crumbling. The passages were covered with spider webs. But, deep in the cellar lay the real riches: vintages going back many decades. It was with this ancient treasure that we placed things that we hoped would never be found by our German guests. The General and about ten men of varying ranks moved into our house. We were not allowed inside but from what I could see the General was designing defenses against and English invasion. His maps of fortifications and artillery emplacements would be very valuable to the Allies if I could find a way to get them and smuggle them out. I had an old camera and some film. One day some repairs were needed in the house and I was asked if I could do them. I put the camera in my toolbox and when no one was looking I took pictures of the maps on the walls and on the table. The next day I put the film in my pocket and walked down the road to the neighbor's house. His son was in the resistance. I gave him the film to pass along. I hope it helped but I never heard back. One day a group of regular soldiers pitched seven tents in the yard. The tents were not very large and each one had two cots and a small night stand with a wash basin. We expected more troops, probably non-commissioned and regulars would be coming and staying in the tents. The Germans had other uses in mind. The next day a truck pulled up. In the back were seven young women. We recognised them from the village. Each one was shown to a tent. Then all the officers except the General himself came out and lined up near the tents. They took turns with the girls and when they were done a truck came with a dozen or so regulars and they also enjoyed the girls. In the evening Justine went to check the girls and make sure they were unhurt. She gave them food and wine and helped them to clean up. When she returned, she wept for them and said their fate was sealed. When the Germans were done with them they would be hung or stoned or drowned by their neighbours. She planned to help them get away when the time came. Justine and I worked the fields but we knew we could never handle the harvest by ourselves. One day I saw the General walking in the trees behind the house. "Her General, can I have a word please?" "Phillip, how can I help you" he replied. "Justine and I cannot handle the harvest and the crush by ourselves. I was wondering if you could provide some men to help us. Perhaps even the girls in the tents could help pick." "Phillip, you have shown great hospitality and patience with us. Leave it to me. I will get you some help." Just as he said, a dozen strong regulars plus the seven girls were pressed into service. I directed the crush and soon the great vats were bubbling. I would need more help when the must was ready for the barrels but for now there was nothing to do but celebrate. We dug a pit near the barn and slow roasted big chunks of beef over a coal fire. Justine made rustic bread. It was a real feast at a very rough time. I brought out a couple of cases of last year's reserve and organized a crude orchestra. The men brought the piano from the house into the barn. A couple of men played violins and one an accordion. I played piano and one of the girls sang. It was a crazy mix of German, French and English tunes. The officers joined the party and danced the night with the girls. The General spent most of the night dancing with Justine and her former anger with all things German seemed to vanish as the party wound down in the wee hours. That winter after the wine was safely in barrels and the vines neatly pruned, the great quiet of the season was broken by the sounds of rifle fire and machine guns. The General stood on the porch and gazed across the land. I asked him what was going on. He told me resistance fighters had stormed a garrison and killed a lot of German soldiers in their sleep. But now the tables were turned. A regiment was routing the band of farmers and merchants and there would be retribution. You could tell the firing squads as the 'bup,bup,bup,bup' of rifle shots came in rapid succession. We were ordered to assemble in front of the house the next day. The girls were to be taken away probably south, we never heard. Justine would be the General's cook and servant. She would stay in the house. I would be locked in the workers' hut except when needed. The Germans did not want any more trouble from the locals. For the next few weeks I was kept in my prison. The guards threw me scraps of bread and left over stew or soup from the staff table, usually cold. They often jeered at me but I could not understand their insults as they were all in German. One day they decided to have me split firewood. At least it got me outside. I worked steadily but not too fast. I wanted to stay out as long as possible. Then I saw her. Justine. She walked out the front door of the house followed by the General. She was dressed in fine new clothes. Her coat was trimmed with fur and her hair was curled and carefully styled. She wore silk stockings, something that was rationed and very hard to get at that time. When she saw me her bright smile dropped and a great sadness came to her eyes. The General opened the car door and she entered and he followed. He glanced at me as he got in the car but showed no expression. I chopped wood all afternoon. The guard was impressed. He gave me a cigarette and lit one himself. We sat on a bench and he told me in broken English what I already knew in my heart. "Your wife makes sleeping with the General. Shhh, don't say I tell you. If she was mine I hang myself." "I may just do that Corporal but I will hear her side first." Spring came and with it more outside times. I saw Justine walking, holding hands with him. I saw them kissing once when I looked in the window. I wanted to speak to her but I was never allowed close. I thought about running towards the woods. The guards would machine gun me, death would be quick. Then the guards gossiped that the English and the Americans had stormed the beaches, the Russians had pushed the Germans back and every available man was being sent to the Eastern front. The officers told the men time and again that such gossip had to stop and they would be disciplined if such talk continued. But it stopped nothing. My guard told me he was being shipped out the next day and soon there were only a few officers left. I was left to roam the grounds no one seemed to care what I did at that point. Then one day the staff car and a truck pulled up to the house. The officers and the General left. The old Colonel who I had not seen since that first day came by just as they loaded up and thanked me and said he hoped he might be back when the war was over. I rushed into the house before the cars were out the gate. It was quiet. I ran upstairs and there she was: My Justine. She had slashed her wrists and blood was everywhere. She was nearly unconscious and quite shocky. I wrapped her wrists with strips I ripped from the bed sheets and held her close under a big comforter to warm her. As she regained her wits she began to cry "Let me die, please, let me die." I gave her some brandy and laid her down to sleep on the sofa so I could watch her. I made a chicken for dinner with a few potatoes. When she awoke the house was filled with the smells of roasting chicken. As soon as I saw her eyes open, I went to her. I sat beside her and stroked her hair. She said "I am dirty, how can you touch me? You should have let me die." I simply said, "Then I will clean you with my kisses. You are my wife and I love you. Just having you back where I can hold you again is all I need." "You don't understand. I was not just his whore." she continued. "I was his mistress, his lover. I did willingly what the village girls were forced to do. The General never forced me. When I began to work in the house, he would talk to me when he ate his meals. He asked me if I needed anything and I said my shoes were falling apart and my feet were sore. He asked to see my foot and he pulled off the old shoe. He saw my blisters and he put ointment on them. He was very tender. Then he said we would go into town and get me some new shoes. That was how it started: conversations and little favors. He seemed to relish buying me presents: first the shoes, then a new dress, a coat, winter boots and stockings, then more personal things like underwear and intimate sleepwear. About that time he would ask for a little thank you kiss. When he bought me a diamond necklace I kissed him on the lips but just a light peck. 'Is that all the kiss I get?' he asked. I kissed him a bit longer and then he grabbed me and kissed me a real passionate kiss with tongue. From that day forward he considered me his. He had me move into his bedroom and treated me like he would a wife. The men just looked the other way. When he got his orders he told me he could not take me with him. I pleaded with him to take me away from here. I thought you would kill me or if not you the resistance. Of course he could not and he left. I am so sorry. I will understand if you don't want me. I am worse than a whore. I am an unfaithful wife and a traitor." With that she began to sob so hard she could hardly get her breath. I just held her and said that everyone does what they must to survive in a war. "I only want you back and to forget all this." I said as I pulled her even tighter to me. She still had a hard time opening up to me but over the next weeks and months we gradually began to make love again and we worked in the fields and I took her into town to get supplies. People looked at her as a leper but I stood by her and glared back at those who stared or mumbled as we passed. The English and Americans and Canadians came. They camped on our land but moved on as the Germans were pushed out. An American officer decided he liked our place and when he offered to buy it I took his offer. Justine and I moved to London where I still had family but eventually moved to Canada. I bought some land near Oliver, BC with orchards of cherries and apples. I cleared out a field of old apple trees and planted vines of the same varietals were had in France. For a few years we had problems with root stocks but I finally found some that took. Many years later the area became famous for wine and our son now runs the place. Justine and I enjoy the fruits of his labour and she still makes fresh loaves of rustic bread for the workers and our grandchildren. We learned when to resist and when you need to bend a little to survive. Survive? We thrived. Resistance "No. I think you should sleep on the couch. You haven't been paying enough attention to me," you say, crossing your arms with a smug look on your face dressed in a T-shirt and panties. I look up from my dinner and raise an eyebrow. "...Excuse me?" I ask. "You've been spending too much time reading and not worshipping me enough," you say, grinning as I stand up, approaching you. You begin to back up, hesitation flashing in your eyes which you push down by determination to show no weakness. Your wrists struggle weakly as I pin you to the wall. You refuse to look at me, ignoring me intently and intentionally. My lips lean in to press against yours', but you turn away, smiling. Teasing. That's enough of that. One hand lets one of your wrists go, and reaches down, grabbing the thin T-shirt that covers your breasts. Your face gasps and you look at me. "Let go," you say with surprise as I twist it in my fingers, ignoring the hand that grabs my wrist. "No," I say, grabbing it with both hands and pulling. Tearing. Shredding your shirt as you let out a scream and try to hold my hands against your chest to try to keep me from shattering your clothes, but that doesn't matter. You aren't strong enough to stop me from doing what I want. "Stop it," you say as you look at me, your eyes filled with arousal and fear as I grab your wrists, pinning them to the wall as I begin to lick and suck on your nipple, shuddering as you let out a moan. "I told you to... nnn...st..." you groan as your knees shudder weakly as I switch nipples, grinding my knee against your pussy through your panties. As your legs weaken, I grab you by the hair before you know what's happening and throw you down on the floor by your head. You let out a squeal before I grab you by the hair again and drag you over the couch that you were going to exile me to before I start to spank your ass. "I'm sorry!" you let out with a cry, groaning as your body shudders in pain and your pussy pulses with hunger. I keep spanking as you struggle, squirm, try to block my hand, but I always rip it away with mine, which eventually ends with me pinning both your hands by the wrist with just one of mine as you cry out and whimper and moan. "Please, stop," you say while struggling, but I keep spanking until you stop squirming, stop fighting. The moment you stop resisting, I stop striking your ass. Then I let your hands go as you let out a sigh, beginning to stand up. Just before you reach your full standing height, I push you back down over the couch, grabbing your panties and ripping them apart with both hands as you let out a cry before reaching down to touch your wet, soaking pussy. "Nnn... oh....." you moan. "Get a condom," you say, knowing you need to be fucked. But slowly, I grasp my cock and brush it against the lips of your pussy. Your body stiffens and you look back. "Hey, get a condom. I'm not on the pill," you say, trying to stand up but being pushed down. You begin struggling and whimpering as I tease your entrance with the head of my cock, whimpering as you try to struggle away, but you can't move with my hand on your back, holding you down. "I know you've been wanting this for a while," I say, rubbing it up and down. "No, no, I'm not ready," you say, letting out a whimper and desperately trying to kick back, but I simply ignore your fragile, pathetic attempts. You're hitting me as hard as you can with your legs, but in your panic you can't hit very hard. Or is it something else? Maybe it isn't panic, but judging by the way it feels the lips of your pussy are throbbing even harder, maybe your body wants this and isn't giving you the strength to fight me. "Please don't-" My cock slides deep into you, as far as it can go. Your eyes widen. "O-oh god," you say, shuddering as your pussy clenches. You begin fighting and struggling, swinging back at me as I grab your hips and begin to pound your pussy wildly, growling like an animal. You whimper and fight. "Please," you plead as I fuck you, your desperate pleading interrupted by moans as your pussy pulses and throbs. My bare skin feels wonderful inside of you, heat and pleasure running through my body. My cock seems to get even larger and harder than it is when I'm covered as I fuck you wildly, viciously, slam myself deeper, ever more aggressively as you keep begging me, but it starts sounding like you're begging me to fuck you harder instead of stopping. So I do. I start pounding you harder and harder as your pussy pulses and twitches and clenches me like a vice as you let out a scream, your senses filled with pleasure and sound and light as an orgasm rips through you. "Yes, yes, yes!" I hear you calling out as you try to fight against me, your actions saying 'no' but your words and body saying 'yes' while I pound you harder. And harder. And harder. Before I let out a guttural roar and drive my cock all the way into you as I cum, shooting my hot, fertile seed deep inside of you. Your eyes close tight as you let out a scream, your pussy clenching around my cock as it milks me more and more and more for all the cum it can get. Inside, you feel a mix of emotions. You want to feel fury, but you knew how long I wanted to fuck you raw, and you knew how long you wanted to be fucked raw. You knew how badly you wanted this, but you didn't want it to be taken... and yet, you did. Your entire body shudders as I keep my cock buried deep inside of you, holding both it and my seed inside of you. After a moment of attempting to think and failing, you whisper. "Thank you..." Resistance After Nightfall He kept quiet as he unlocked the door, making sure to walk softly. The house was dark, so he felt his way around. He had been there before, invited, and knew the general layout. But this time he was an intruder, a shadow in the night, unexpected. Feeling his way around, his hand fell on a small kettle, and he smiled. She did enjoy her tea. He wondered how surprised she would be to see him here now. He approached the hallway that led to her bedroom, and stopped, listening. There was no sound, save for the quiet hum of the fan in the background. A few steps and he was at her door, his hand turning the knob with great patience and care to not alert her. The door swung open. Faint moonlight shone in through the window, illuminating her small body as she slept. He paused and stared down at her, the way she lay there so peacefully, her chest rising slightly as each breath filled her lungs. Such a beautiful creature, he thought to himself, so very lovely. He sat down on a chair in the corner, and set down the bag he had brought in. Opening it, he withdrew a few items and placed them on her dresser, making sure to be as silent as possible. He stood and removed his shirt, casting it aside. Then he was at her bed, looking over her, feeling his passion rise as he thought about what he had planned for his little angel. She would fight back, he knew that, expected it.. but he would tame her. She would be his, tonight. Carefully he removed her blankets, and she stirred, ever so slightly. In her sleep she reached out for her covers, found none, and seemed to settle back down, her breathing returning to its steady rhythm. He was pleased to see she was naked. The faint light painted her features so softly, and it was all he could do to stop from leaning down to suck her perfect breasts right then. He reached over to the dresser to collect something, and returned to her side. A loose floorboard creaked loudly, and he cursed at himself. A tender moan escaped her lips as she woke, oblivious to his presence for the moment. Then he saw her eyes open and look up at him, filled with shock and fear. He wasn't sure if she recognized him, until she spoke. "Daniel?" she said sleepily, confusion heavy in her voice. In a quick moment his hand fell upon her lips, silencing her. Her eyes grew wide and she tried to remove his hand, but his grip held fast. Lifting her head he forced a gag into her mouth, and listening to her muffled screams, he grinned. "Julie," he said softly, but with a tone of absolute certainty in his voice, "Too long you have teased me. Tortured me with your perfect smile, those breasts, this delicious body of yours. Tonight you will be mine. Struggle all you like, I will have none of it. In the end you will submit to me, and do everything I demand of you. I will use you as I see fit, and by the time we are done you will be begging me for it." She tried to speak but only soft whimpers came out. Her hands flew quickly up at him, trying to fight him off, urging him to reconsider. He ignored her swats and lifted her quickly, tossing her back on the bed on her stomach. He took her wrists in his hand and squeezed tightly, causing her to scream into her gag once again. From his pocket he took a pair of handcuffs, covered in leather, and fastened her arms behind her back. She panicked and flailed out helplessly, her legs trying to kick at him. Daniel laughed cruelly at her desperation, and brought his hand down upon her ass with a loud smack. She groaned tried wildly to move, but found herself unable. As she squirmed and whined on her bed, he took some small bars from his bag and fastened them together, with a cuff on either side. Grabbing her legs firmly he fastened a cuff around each ankle, forcing her open for him. He heard the beginning of her tears as she lay there so exposed, so helpless. Leaning over her to whisper in her ear, he spoke. "Easy, kitten. I know you aim to fight me, I know you are a strong woman. But you have no choice here. I will not be deterred. Should you wish to weep, I will not be swayed." He wiped the tears from her eyes and again spanked her bottom, much harder this time, causing her body to tense up. He left her a moment to return to the dresser, and picked up a short dark flogger. He brushed it over her ass gently, striking her softly and massaging her skin with his hand between each strike. She whined at him through her gag, but he took no notice. He slid a finger inside her womanhood, and felt her body resist him with all her might. He smiled and rubbed her, before returning to her backside. His blows came quicker now, a series of whips and slaps along her skin, pausing every so often to rub her flesh, delighting in the feel of her warm skin. He stopped for a moment, and struck her hard, the tiny whips stinging her tender ass and smacking down against her sex. She moaned painfully and he saw the tears in her eyes, reflected in the moonlight. Again he stuck his finger inside of her, rubbing at the soft walls of her pussy. She resisted him again, but he noticed she was getting wet in spite of herself. He smiled, patted her sensitive flower and spread her wetness upon her reddening cheeks before flogging her again. He slapped at her in rhythm, her muffled cries only encouragement to his ears. Slap, smack, slap.. her body writhed with each lash, protesting the abuse. He whipped at the backs of her thighs, and her sobs grew louder. Each hit upon her skin seemed to drive her further, her tears soaking the pillow her face rested on. He beat her in quick succession, alternating between her thighs and ass, in such a flurry that she thought it would never end. He noticed the wetness begin to run down her thigh, and was pleased to see, that when he stopped suddenly, her body arched slightly, as if subconsciously trying to meet the next blow. "Oh you struggle so, princess," he murmured, "but your body tells a different story." He set down the flogger and leaned to kiss her tender backside, his hands caressing her glowing skin. She felt so soft, so smooth. His tongue danced upon her skin and he heard he try to whimper as he licked at the lips of her pussy, teasing her mercilessly. He reached under her body and took her breasts in his hands, feeling her shudder and he rolled her nipples between his fingers. A few soft pinches and he drove his tongue into her hole, causing her to gasp and shiver. He kissed her wetness, thoroughly enjoying the taste of her arousal. He tweaked her nipples hard, and as she tried to cry out, slid his hands back to her pussy, and forced his fingers inside her as he nibbled on her little nub. He felt her sigh in spite of herself, still half struggling but unable to fight her restraints. "Your cunt is exquisite, my dear," he said, as he licked and prodded her. "But know that it is mine to play with as I wish." With that, he slid more fingers inside her, and he fought him furiously as she felt him fill her up, her sex widened and aching. He paid her objections no heed, and rolled his tongue around her clit as he fucked her with his hand. The pain made her whimper uncontrollably, and yet the pleasure, the pleasure flooded her mind and body like a strong wave. Her groans tickled his ears and made his cock throb against his pants, and he stroked her until her breath was quick and jolted, a series of moans and silent begging. He withdrew his hand and carefully slid his finger, wet with her juices, into her ass. She flinched again, and tried to squeeze herself against him in protest, but he slapped her cheek roughly and forced himself in. He rubbed her wetness into her tight hole, and began to fuck her slowly with his finger, her body struggling less with every penetration. Tears streamed down her face, and he was amazed again how beautiful she was, how perfect. He leaned forward and kissed her shoulders gently as he forced another finger inside her, cherishing the way she shivered, so frightened and outraged, and yet aroused all the more. Finding her sufficiently lubricated, he stood and unbuckled his pants, and removed his shorts, his cock bouncing out into the open air. She couldn't see it, with her face buried against the pillow, but as she felt his head enter her bottom she turned back at him, her eyes wide and pleading, filled with tears and terror. "Sssh, kitten." he spoke, so gently he saw her calm slightly at once, "This will hurt you, yes, but it is nothing you cannot handle. I will not injure you, but you will feel pain. I am going to fuck your sweet ass, and I promise if you stop resisting, you will come to feel pleasure from it, as well." With that her resistance all but ceased, and while her body was still tense, her whimpering fell quiet. Pleased at her, he pet her body lovingly, and pushed his manhood inside her, slowly but firmly. He forced himself deep in her ass and held there, sighing at the way she gripped his cock with her muscles. Playing with her pussy with his fingers, he thrust himself in her again, and she sighed loudly. Quickening his pace he slammed himself into her ass, and while she surely would have cried out if she could, the gag muffled her perfectly. Every stroke filled him more with desire, and he leaned over top of her, crushing her, gripping her body so tightly as he fucked her. He felt her chest heave as he filled her tight hole, slamming into her again and again. He moaned loudly in her ear and, knowing he was close, withdrew from her suddenly. Her body jolted from the sudden emptiness, and he smiled, again sliding a finger deep into her pussy, teasing and toying with her. He stood over her, watching her, her breath coming in quick gasps, quivering against his hand. "You see, princess? This can be as easy or as difficult as you make it. I'm going to free your legs now, and I trust you will obey me and not struggle too much. Know that you are my plaything, my whore, and I will take you whether you want it or not." and then, with a chuckle, "though it certainly seems that you want it, doesn't it?" He pinched down on her sensitive nub and she moaned into her gag. A few quick movements and her legs were freed from the spreader bar, though she made no effort now to kick out at him. He removed the cuffs from her wrists and lifted her into his arms. She didn't struggle now, and as he pinned her against the wall, he felt her wrap her arms and legs around him. He kissed her cheek, and, staring into her wide brown eyes, thrust his cock into her pussy. She moaned and gripped his ass with her legs, begging him to fill her up, to take her completely. She was so wet, so warm, and so beautiful.. he fucked her hard, will all his might. Pounding into her again and again, feeling their bodies as one, he ripped off the gag and kissed her deeply, urgently. She moaned aloud into his mouth and returned his kiss, her tongue wrapping itself in his. Their breathing quickened, and he gripped her ass tightly in his hands as he thrust into her again, wailing away at her cunt with his manhood. He kissed her neck and groaned against her skin, and he felt her trembling in his arms as he fucked her so very hard. She was quivering around him, and he knew she was close. He leaned down and took her breast in his mouth, biting down as he thrust himself into her. "There will be times when I deny your pleasure, of course, when you are a naughty little whore. Tonight, however, it pleases me to grant you release, to feel you come all over my cock like the slut you are. My slut, of course, and no one elses. So let it all out kitten, come with me and let me feel you quiver against me, let me feel you wrapped around me in gratitude." His stared into her eyes as he whispered this softly, and she gasped. His hips rocked against her, his body tight against hers, squeezing her between the wall. She moaned and cried into his ear as she came, her body shivering in pleasure, wave after wave flowing through her. "Dadddddy.." she whispered, so quietly he barely heard it. But he did, and her surrender, the warmth of her body, the simultaneous weakness and overwhelming strength in her eyes forced him over the edge. He buried his cock inside her, spraying her with his pleasure, moaning as he held her so tightly, their bodies locked together in passion. He held her there, against the wall, his member inside her still as they panted for breath, their climaxes rolling over them. She went limp in his arms and he carried her to her bed, setting her down softly. He kissed her, a tender, gentle kiss that she returned eagerly, and pecked her forehead before standing and covering her back up with her blankets. He stared up at him, so illuminated by her passion and so very beautiful. He knelt down and gently closed her eyelids, kissing them. "Sleep now, kitten." he whispered softly in her ear. "Sleep and dream." He stayed by her side, her hand in his, until he heard her breathing relax and was sure she slept. Again he kissed her forehead. Gathering his things, he left the flogger out on her dresser, as a reminder. He smiled and gazed down at her again before silently walking out of the room, closing the door behind him.