Cinderella
Copyright 2008-2010 Rachael Ross all rights reserved. Intended for adults only. [email protected]
Cinderella - Book Two
by T.S. Severe
Chapter Twelve
"I liked you better when you were a cop." The Matchmaker frowned from the doorway of his Berlin flat. "I didn't have to get up to open the fucking door."
"I could kick it in, if you like," Wolfgang shrugged. "For old time's sake."
"Hmph," the man turned away, limping back to his easy chair and the football match on his small television. He was older, in his fifties, and thin with thick white hair on top of his narrow skull. He dressed like a peasant, Wolfgang thought, wearing old tweed trousers and a flannel shirt, with wide suspenders rather than a belt.
Wolfgang closed the door behind him and turned the bolt. He glanced around the modest apartment just assure himself that they were alone. The place was neat and clean, very orderly for a man who lived alone perhaps, but he was a tidy man by nature, as Wolfgang knew. The Matchmaker was a small time fence as well, and sometimes an informant for the Federal Police, depending on circumstances.
He wasn't much of a criminal as such things go, however; the man had no taste for violence or anything that would get him locked away for more than a year or two and he was too valuable for that. He rarely took risks, but the dour look on his face made it clear that was precisely what he thought Wolfgang was. That wasn't too surprising. The Matchmaker's real business was dealing in contacts and selling information; he knew everyone and arranging introductions made him more than a modest living. In the clandestine world of German crime, The Matchmaker was the one man everyone trusted, if only because everyone needs help once in awhile.
"Here," Wolfgang said, dropping a small roll of Euros onto the man's lap before taking a seat on an old, well-worn sofa.
"I had visitors today," The Matchmaker said, picking up the money and pulling the rubber band free so he could count it.
"Oh?"
"Friends of yours, I think." He counted the money quickly and stuffed it into the seat cushion beside him.
"Federal Police?"
"They smelled like Gestapo," the man agreed.
"Did they ask about anything in particular?" Wolfgang wondered, ignoring the small jibe.
"Hamburg," he snorted. "I wasn't much help, I'm afraid. Have you been there recently?"
"No." Wolfgang sat back with a shake of his head.
"I didn't think so." The man nodded. "A dangerous place these days. You should stay away from there."
"Thanks."
"So?" The Matchmaker looked at his visitor. "What do you want this time?"
"The same as last time," Wolfgang said and he frowned at the sardonic smile playing across the older man's face. "I accidentally dropped something in the river."
"Clumsy," he said with a chuckle. "Two days?"
"Tonight?"
"Hmmm…" the man glanced at the clock above his television. "How well do you know Salzwedel?"
Wolfgang shrugged.
"I'll draw you a map," he said. "At least it's on the way, no?"
"The way to where?" Wolfgang narrowed his eyes.
"Why…Hamburg, of course," The Matchmaker said with a grin.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
It was nearly midnight before Wolfgang reached under his seat for the pistol he'd bought in Salzwedel. He'd met a man in a gas station men's room, trading money for hardware with barely a dozen words spoken between them. It had been an expensive purchase, as such things usually were, and the suppressor had doubled the price.
The money worried Wolfgang less than the time he'd spent driving halfway across Germany and he was running very low on both. After the death of his mother, Wolfgang had sold the old house he'd grown up in and nearly everything inside it, but that had been over a year previously and he hadn't been working in the meantime. His real concern at the moment was for Eva, however. With Dubert dead it was impossible to know what would become of his sister.
Ebenstrasse was a brightly lit street passing through the center of what passed for Hamburg's redlight district. It hosted decaying buildings of brick and mortar built on the ruins of World War Two, but not to last apparently. Bars, tattoo and massage parlors, seedy café's and pornographic bookstores lined both sides of the street. The place crawled with prostitutes and drunken sailors from the nearby waterfront, with bums and panhandlers sitting near steam grates in their shabby clothes. The corners and alleyways were lorded over by pimps and drug dealers, watching from against the wall while they smoked, or sitting in their large automobiles.
None of it was surprising or particularly intimidating to Wolfgang. He had enough experience with places and people like this to understand what was going on. He was also smart enough to know that he was the outsider. No one could be trusted, no matter what they might say or do, and he was very much alone.
The night club with the unlikely name of Nacht Baden Leben was something of a landmark in Hamburg with a reputation for wanton excess. In the twenties and thirties it had established itself as a cabaret catering to the risqué entertainment demanded by Hamburg's affluent minority and the tourists taking advantage of the severe German depression and subsequent recovery under the Nazis. Of course what was considered risqué seventy years ago would hardly raise an eyebrow now and the fashionable strippers and showgirls had given way to live sex shows featuring everything from BDSM to pissing to bestiality. The only thing that hadn't changed, other than the name, was the fact that Hamburg's elite still enjoyed sneaking in through the back doors. For that reason, Nacht Baden Leben enjoyed a certain amount of immunity from the local police, and so it was also popular with Hamburg's most recent counter-culture youth movement, most of whom were pushing thirty these days and suffering a lack of direction.
"Twenty-five," a large man said, jerking his head towards the sign on the wall. There was a cover charge to enter and Wolfgang dug into his trousers for the bills.
"Is Eva here tonight?" he asked, looking for a reaction more than an answer, but he got neither.
"Enjoy yourself," the man said without smiling, looking past Wolfgang towards a young couple laughing drunkenly behind him.
At least he wasn't overdressed, Wolfgang realized as he made his way through the club. He was wearing a dark suit beneath his long wool overcoat, with a white shirt and blue tie loosely knotted. His brown hair was fashionably long, curling around his collar as it was combed straight back from his smooth forehead. A surprising number of people were well dressed, the woman in particular and not all of them were employees. It would be easy for a man to make a mistake, but then again, Wolfgang imagined that most of the female patrons would enjoy that sort of game and take it as a form of flattery.
Like the buxom brunette who stopped him with a delicate hand on his chest. She would have been ten centimeters taller than Wolfgang even without her heels, and she looked down at him with an amused smile and brown eyes so dilated that they were nearly black. She seemed to be poured into her strapless evening gown, with a string of pearls around her throat. She looked like she be visiting the opera rather than a red light nightclub, but such was the nature of local mores.
"Do you have a light?" she asked Wolfgang, holding up a cigarette and licking her red lips.
"No. I'm sorry," he said, noting the way her full breasts rose and fell slowly. "I don't smoke."
"I do." The woman pursed her lips, looking him up and down.
"Allow me." He smiled at her, taking the cigarette from her fingers. "I've just saved your life."
She smiled at that, rubbing her empty fingers together. "I haven't seen you here before."
"I've been here many times," Wolfgang lied. "I've seen you. Who is that man…?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"The one you come here with," Wolfgang insisted, glancing around as if looking for someone.
"Oh," she said with a sigh. "My husband? You like him?"
"No."
"Dance with me." The woman reached for his arm, but Wolfgang shook his head.
"Another time." He smiled apologetically, moving around her.
"Faggot," she muttered.
The club was divided into two large sections with a long bar separating them. Half of the club, the section most immediate to the front entrance, was for dancing. A dazzling array of lights were rigged overhead, nearly blinding as they swung back and forth over the crowd. A young DJ worked the techno-club mix from a small stage, dancing around behind his equipment like a rock star, and the place was filled with younger men and women moving to the pounding bass and screaming orchestral synthesis. It was hot and loud, the air filled with smoke and the assorted stink of alcohol, sweat, and tobacco.
Wolfgang made his way through the crowd slowly, feeling the weight of the Glock 29 sheathed in a nylon holster beneath his left arm. He was careful to avoid brushing against anyone as he moved. His modest stature and natural athletic grace had always served him well and the man seemed to drift easily through the chaos. A number of patrons observed him with interest and Wolfgang didn't avoid their eyes, but offered little in response and declined politely several offers to join the revelry surrounding him.
Passing around the double sided bar the atmosphere suddenly changed, both literally and figuratively. It was noticeably cooler and smell of sweating bodies less intrusive. The club was also darker and Wolfgang paused, letting people walk around him as he let his eyes adjust. There was a large central stage, just a slightly raised platform really, upon which a pair women clad entirely in red PVC seemed to be dancing almost violently with each other. It was soon revealed that one of them wore a dildo and was plunging it deeply into a smaller girl's exposed sex, unwillingly it seemed, as the girl tried to escape the penetration with gasps and muffled grunts. Around them were tables and booths lit with candles flickering yellow and red in colored glass pots.
The place wasn't quite as crowded as the other half of the club, or at least the people were sitting down and that made a big difference. Most of the tables were occupied by one or more men and they were not alone, but sitting with wives, girlfriends, or far more likely, employees of the club. A number of attractive women, all scantily clad in revealing and sexy attire, were ferrying drinks. One of them parked her tray at the waitress station nearest Wolfgang and gave one of the bartenders a wave.
"Hi," Wolfgang said to her with a smile, holding a fifty euro note in his fingers and tapping the edge of it against the bar.
"Hi," the girl replied absently, giving him a glance as she tallied up a bill for the drinks she was ordering.
"Busy tonight," he observed, leaning forward as if trying to catch the bartender's attention.
"Always." The blonde woman sighed and she was older than Wolfgang first thought, but very sexy in her matching black leather shorts and halter top. Her ripe breasts jiggled when she moved and the cheeks of her round ass were spilling out behind her.
"I'm looking for Eva," Wolfgang said, turning towards the girl. "Have you seen her tonight?"
"Eva?" The blonde shrugged without lifting her eyes. "I don't know. There are a lot of girls…"
"Not like her," he said, dropping the money on the tray.
"Uh…" The woman looked up finally and nodded her head. "Upstairs, I think. Back there, by the restrooms…"
"Are you sure?" Wolfgang asked, following the woman's eyes towards a wide opening in the wall.
"Eva went up to her room a couple hours ago," she told him, picking up the money as the bartender approached. "That's all I know."
"What's upstairs?" Wolfgang asked and the girl shrugged, turning her attention to the drinks she needed.
The stairway was some two meters wide and red carpeted with a brass chain across the entry. A sign hanging from it said, "Private" and Wolfgang ignored the notice, unclipping the chain and letting it hang from the opposite wall. There was a landing halfway up where the stairs made a ninety degree turn to the right, ascending once more before reaching a wide hallway some fifteen meters long. A number of wooden doors, four of them, lined either side of the hallway at regular intervals, but what caught Wolfgang's eye was the large man sitting on a chair at the opposite end.
He was big and blonde, dressed in a rumpled black suit and reading a newspaper. There was a metal ashtray beside his chair, mounted atop a curving glass Art deco stand. He narrowed his eyes when he looked up to see Wolfgang approaching him, lowered his newspaper with a frown and started shaking his head.
"You should go back downstairs, my friend," the man said in Russian accented German. "This floor is private."
"Private?" Wolfgang widened his soft brown eyes, glancing around as he kept walking. "I'm looking for my wife. She told me she wanted to powder her nose and…"
"The ladies room is downstairs," the man said, setting his newspaper on the carpet and standing slowly. He was very large, well over two meters tall and easily a hundred kilos. It doubtless gave him confidence facing a much smaller man like Wolfgang, who couldn't have weighed 75 kilos soaking wet.
"Ah. Shit. I must have walked right past it." Wolfgang gave him a lop-sided grin and a small shrug. He stopped and started to turn, but then thought better of it. "Say, have you got a light anyway?"
Wolfgang held up the cigarette he'd taken from the woman earlier.
"Yeah, sure," the man said with a nod, reaching into his trousers.
"Thanks." Wolfgang smiled appreciatively, stepping closer as the man produced a Zippo lighter. "My fucking wife…She hates it when I smoke."
"Like mine. You should leave her home next time," the bigger man chuckled, snapping the lighter open and thumbing it.
"Heh! You don't know my wife," Wolfgang snorted, bringing the cigarette to his lips and leaning forward.
As the man opened his mouth to say something else, Wolfgang closed his hand into a fist and drove it into the Russian's solar plexus, the bundle of nerves controlling all the major organs in the abdomen. A solid blow could easily knock a man unconscious, but Wolfgang hadn't been able to take a full swing and the Russian was large and thick in the middle. He was staggered, however, and the air seemed to burst from his gaping mouth, but the man wasn't down and Wolfgang didn't hesitate. He grabbed the much larger man by the arms, just above the Russian's elbows, pushing him backwards even as Wolfgang drove his right knee into the man's groin like a sledgehammer.
The Russian groaned weakly, having precious little air left to make the sound properly, and he was falling into the chair behind him when Wolfgang's right hand found his thick neck. He closed his thumb and fingers, digging into the soft skin on either side of the jaw and slammed the Russian's skull into the wall with a loud crack and then another, leaving a dark red stain behind. It was much the sort of close combat Wolfgang had been taught during his tour of mandatory service in the Bundeswehr and later refined as a member of the Federal Police. The whole affair had happened in a matter of seconds and Wolfgang picked up the man's lighter, still burning as it charred and melted the thin carpeting around it.
"Sorry, my friend," Wolfgang said quietly to the unconscious Russian, closing the lighter and slipping it inside the man's jacket and the newspaper over his knees. He'd live, probably, but wake up with one hell of a headache later and Wolfgang was glad of that. He had no desire to kill anyone, but only to find Eva and leave as quickly as possible.
Wolfgang took the Russian's pistol, an older Colt Model 1911 and ejected the magazine to see the clip held ten rounds. He worked the slide, finding the breech empty, and locked it open with the thumb lever. The .45 was a heavy weapon and popular with the self-styled Russian gangsters as something of a status symbol. Wolfgang had never held one before, but there was little time to admire it. He placed the magazine in his left coat pocket and released the slide with a solid ka-chunk leaving the unloaded weapon cocked. Thumbing the hammer, Wolfgang pulled the trigger and dropped it back into place before putting the pistol into his right coat pocket.
The Russian's pistol replaced a pair of surgical gloves and Wolfgang tugged them on quickly before pulling his Glock free of his shoulder holster. He held the pistol low at his right side as he checked the nearest door. It was unlocked and inside he found a distinctly feminine bedroom with the bed disheveled, but empty. There were two doors inside, opened to a closet half-full of women's clothes and a bathroom respectively. Wolfgang left the room, crossing the hall to check the door on the opposite side. This one too was unlocked and Wolfgang opened it slowly, finding another bedroom and this time it was occupied.
A woman lay on the bed face down and spread eagle. Wolfgang's heart lurched as he took in her dirty blonde hair, looking like tarnished silver as it clung to her neck and shoulders. The room stank of sweat and sex and her body gleamed with perspiration. There were long, angry stripes of red across her pale back from just below her shoulders to the tops of her thighs. She was bound to the brass bed frame with thin leather belts and whatever had happened to her must have ended only recently. The shower could be heard running and as Wolfgang closed the door behind him he became aware of a man's voice humming pleasantly.
"Eva?" Wolfgang whispered, reaching for the girl and pulling damp hair from her face.
"Ummm…" she sighed softly, and her eyelids fluttered but didn't open.
Wolfgang frowned, glancing at the open door to the bathroom and then looking at his sister's injured body. There were welts criss-crossing her skin, and some faint bruising just beginning to show, but no blood at least. She'd been whipped, that was obvious enough, and as Wolfgang moved towards the foot of the bed he could see her anus puffy and raw, leaking thin semen to mix with the large stain beneath her hips and swollen sex. The smell of urine was suddenly strong and he imagined Eva had pissed herself during her beating. Anger rose from Wolfgang's gut, a calm rage that added to his sense of purpose.
The man in the shower froze as he turned and saw Wolfgang pointing his pistol at him. The Glock 29 was a smaller weapon, being a sub-compact design and intended for concealment, and somewhat deceptive as it was chambered for the powerful 10mm Auto cartridge. The suppressor added another 8cm to the barrel and nearly 400 grams to the weight, but that was unavoidable. It was always better to err on the side of stealth, in Wolfgang's opinion, because no one could predict the future. He was glad he'd spent the money now.
The man said something in Russian, perhaps asking who Wolfgang was, perhaps making an observation about the weather. It made no difference as Wolfgang pulled the trigger. The pistol was loud in the small room, even with the suppressor, and the heavy bullet tore into the Russian's left eye and out the back of his skull, taking most of the man's brains with it. The shower curtain between them was spattered with crimson blowback and the white tiles behind the man looked as if someone had thrown a bucket of strawberry jam on the wall.
"Eva, wake up…Can you hear me?" Wolfgang asked her, setting his gun on the mattress between her spread legs and working at the belts to free her ankles.
"Hmmm…no…" She smiled weakly, unmoving as her legs and then her arms were freed.
Wolfgang looked around for some clothes and spotted a syringe on the dresser. There was a kit there, arranged haphazardly from recent use. A small can of sterno, a large spoon bent over on itself so it would stand upright over the flame and cook the girl's heroin. Some rubber tubing and cotton balls, a foil packet unfolded with faint traces of white powder in the creases. Wolfgang knew what it was and why Eva was so lethargic. The Russian had shot her up, whipped her, and then raped her asshole while she lay helpless beneath him.
"Come on," Wolfgang said with a soft grunt, lifting the girl and working a dress over her head. It was red and thin like a summer dress, and very loose on her, but that made it easier. Eva was smiling at him, her eyes dark and unfocused. She offered no resistance at least, but she was in no condition to walk out of the club.
Wolfgang rolled his sister onto her stomach, getting a weak giggle from her as he zipped up her dress. This all seemed to be taking too long and if the Russian outside didn't come around soon, someone was sure to discover him before too much longer. Wolfgang looked hurriedly for a purse or anything Eva might wish for later, but saw nothing and didn't spare the time for a real search.
He checked the hallway cautiously, opening the door to see the big Russian exactly as he'd left him. Wolfgang replaced his pistol in its holster and took off his overcoat, putting it over Eva's shoulders as she sat on the edge of the bed. He found her shoes, leather pumps with three inch heels and he frowned as he put them on her feet, knowing they weren't going to help get Eva down the stairs.
"Ready?" he asked her, not looking for an answer as he peeled off his gloves and then struggled to get the girl to her feet. "Come on. Walk with me, Eva."
"Ohhh…" she sighed as Wolfgang held her right hand with his, keeping her arm around his neck while his left arm cradled her narrow waist.
They were very nearly to the stairs when Wolfgang heard a door open behind him. He let go of Eva's hand, tightening his grip around her body, and reached inside his jacket to feel his pistol ready to be jerked loose from the break-away rig.
"No! Stop!" A woman giggled drunkenly and Wolfgang turned his head to look over his shoulder. She was dark haired and cute, flushed with drink and recent sex.
"What? You like it," her companion said, speaking without a Russian accent, Wolfgang was relieved to note. He was tall with close cropped hair and a pleasant face. Neither of them had looked in the other direction to see the Russian slumped in his chair.
"Who is that?" the girl wondered, looking more at Eva than at Wolfgang.
"Too much to drink, eh?" the man asked with a cheerful grin. "You need help?"
"No," Wolfgang smiled back at him. "She does this to me all the time."
"Ah! You should let her sleep it off," the man suggested. "Put her in bed and leave the door open."
"What? Erich!" His girlfriend laughed and slapped his chest playfully.
"Teach her a lesson?" Wolfgang chuckled.
"Exactly!" The man nodded eagerly, pulling his girl closer as they caught up with Wolfgang and Eva. "Here. I'll give you a hand. We'll get her downstairs and you can buy us all beer, yeah?"
"I've got to get her home," Wolfgang apologized. "Next time. I'll tell her to pass out earlier and we can drink all night."
"Home?" Eva lifted her head, blinking at the man holding her.
"Shhh…almost there." Wolfgang smiled at her, wondering what might happen if his sister suddenly came to her senses.
"That's Eva!" the girl exclaimed. "Where are you taking her?"
"Home," Eva whispered, smiling as she tried to turn her head and look at the other woman.
"Does Yuri know you're taking her?" she asked.
"Who's Yuri?" her companion wondered, looking a little confused and he tugged on his girlfriend's hand. "Let's go downstairs."
"He knows," Wolfgang lied, having no idea who Yuri was either, but thinking it was probably the man he'd killed in the shower. They were standing at the top of the steps and he was tempted just to pick Eva up in his arms and go as quickly as he could.
"I don't believe you," the woman said, swallowing hard and she turned around taking two steps and then gasping as she saw the obviously unconscious Russian.
Moving quickly, Wolfgang drew his pistol and pointed it at the man's face.
"Get your girlfriend back into your room," Wolfgang said clearly. "Or I'll shoot you both."
"What?" The man stared at gun, looking down the long, black tunnel of the suppressor from less than a dozen centimeters away.
"Erich?" The girl had turned back around and she went white as a sheet.
"Where are we?" Eva asked, slipping slightly and Wolfgang tightened his grip, jerking the girl upward with his left arm.
"Back in your room," he repeated. "Now!"
The man moved then, backing up several steps and then turning, almost stumbling over his own feet as he hastened to grab the girl by the arm. He dragged her back into the room from which they'd emerged, slamming the door behind them.
Wolfgang didn't put his pistol away, but kept it in his hand as he turned Eva and picked her up off her feet. His right arm was under her knees and he hid the pistol as best he could, using the folds of the overcoat she was wearing to cover it. His left arm was under her neck and he balanced her briefly as he took a firm grip. It wasn't the best situation, carrying a barely conscious girl out of the club like that, but Wolfgang had little choice now.
Part of him was unhappy that he'd left behind two people who could identify him. Three, including the Russian, but he wouldn't talk to the police. The girl and her companion though, they might, and they'd gotten good, long looks at his face, obviously, and would be able to provide an accurate description. Killing them would have been simple enough, but even if that would have guaranteed Wolfgang's escape, and it didn't, he wasn't the sort of man to kill innocent people in cold blood. A man like Dubert, or the Russian he'd found in Eva's room, that was one thing. Such men deserved to die. But a whore and her client who happened to be passing by at the wrong time? No.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"Dying in prison would be better than living with that," Wolfgang said with a nod of his head as if agreeing with himself.
He was looking down and none of us said anything for a minute.
"Even so," he looked back up and shrugged, "we were able to escape."
"You just walked out?" Sofia asked him.
"It was not so hard. I was able to get Eva on her feet again," he explained. "The drugs were wearing off, at least enough so she could walk, and nobody stopped us."
We were in my cabana suite, eating seafood dinner, drinking wine, and listening to Wolfgang talk. His story was interrupted occasionally as Eva would add something here and there, or one of us would ask a question. The mood was somber, as you'd expect listening to such things. Wolfgang hadn't planned on killing anyone and he'd hoped to avoid it, but seeing his sister the way she'd been…He had no regrets about what he'd done, that was clear.
Eva herself merely shrugged. "Yuri was a pig. A bully," she said. "He liked to hurt me."
"He did that to you before?" I wondered. "Whipped you and…"
"Hmmmm…" Eva nodded. "Many times. It is not so bad, with the heroin it is very…How do you say it? Surreal? Like a dream."
"It sounds like you enjoyed it," Sofia said.
"Sometimes," Eva agreed, smiling at the other woman. "It is the bad sex. I still like it."
"Okay." Sofia blinked and raised her glass, swallowing some wine with a little look at me. She liked sex, but Sofia's tastes were rather tame by anyone's standards. The idea of enjoying BDSM was a little beyond her understanding.
"But not the drugs," Wolfgang added. "Eva is very clean now."
"He watches me carefully," Eva said, turning her smile on Wolfgang. "He is cruel that way."
"Cruel?" I asked her.
"Oh yes," she said. "He tortured me in the beginning. I hated Wolfgang very much."
"I had to get her off the heroin," he explained. "Such things are never pleasant."
"What did you do?" I asked him, having visions of Eva being locked in a room, going crazy with withdrawal symptoms.
"I locked her in a room," Wolfgang said, narrowing his eyes at the look on my face. "I had no money for a sanitarium, and the questions they would have asked…"
"He had no choice," Eva told me. "He was a very good doctor."
"And you were a very bad patient," Wolfgang said with a chuckle.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
It was three days before Eva could keep food in her stomach. The worst was over as her drug dependency began to fade and her body slowly remembered how to function without heroin. She hadn't slept very much, only fitfully and for brief periods. Most often Eva would curl up beneath the heavy blankets Wolfgang covered her with, shivering and cursing the man with every breath she took. Sometimes she became violent, trying to hurt herself or her brother, and Wolfgang would have to wrestle with the girl. During the worst of it, he would bind her hands and feet until the episode passed.
He never left her, not once, and Wolfgang would hold her close and try to soothe the pain. He fed her and bathed her, suffered her insane abuse. By the end of it they were both exhausted. Eva ate a little soup, a few sections of orange, and slept for twenty hours straight. She awoke hungry, confused and frightened, but her eyes were clear and her mind coherent. She had a lot of questions and Wolfgang answered the girl patiently and always with the truth.
"I would like to take a bath," Eva said, leaning over the back of the sofa and putting her arms around Wolfgang's neck.
"And so?" He turned his face upward from an old copy of Der Spiegel that had come with the flat, giving his sister a smile.
"I want you to do it for me," Eva sighed, putting her chin on his shoulder.
"You're not feeling well?"
"I like it when you bathe me," she said. "Please?"
"Eva." Wolfgang shook his head, but after two weeks he had to admit that he enjoyed their growing intimacy as well.
"Don't be frightened," she teased him with a soft giggle. "It's only a bath."
It was much more than a bath, as they both well knew. Despite having the same father, Wolfgang and Eva were strangers and regardless of what they knew to be correct, they shared more than just blood. The attraction had begun in secret, with small looks and shy smiles not shared, but stolen when the other wasn't watching. When one of them was caught, the other would pretend not to notice and this only served to embolden the siblings more.
Wolfgang had bathed Eva while she was recovering from her addiction; likewise they'd shared the same bed, the only bed in the small Frankfurt flat that he'd rented a year before. Neither were habits they would willingly break, although Wolfgang did try. He'd suggested that he could sleep on the sofa, now that Eva was feeling better, and he'd done precisely that for one night. The next morning Eva had complained bitterly. She couldn't sleep alone. She was afraid of the dark. She had nightmares, the girl said, and the next night Wolfgang held her close while Eva slept peacefully beside him.
"Are they gone?" Eva asked, looking over her shoulder and into the mirror.
"Almost," Wolfgang said, but he could still see the scars on his sister's back and not all of them were from the night he'd found her. Some were older, long faded and noticeable only if he examined her carefully.
"Yes," she nodded. "They look nice, I think. Do you like them?"
"No." Wolfgang sat on the floor of the small bathroom, holding his hand under the tub's faucet as it filled with water. He was still dressed in a brown sweater and dark trousers.
Eva was undressing slowly, holding her t-shirt on her arms, but already removed from her head and body. It covered her petite breasts as she stood there in a pair of old jeans. She was regaining some weight, but even so the girl was naturally thin. She'd taken to exercising with Wolfgang, running with him through the streets of Frankfurt as the sun rose in the morning. Eva surprised him with her stamina and hidden strength, but it had only been a few weeks and so she tired quickly. After only five or six kilometers they would usually just walk together for an hour or so, speaking quietly about their lives.
Now Wolfgang could see the fresh air and exercise beginning to pay off. Her skin was pale, white as cream all over, but unlike her previous pallor this was more natural, almost radiant it seemed to him. Eva's muscles were becoming pronounced with use and rather than skinny, she was becoming lean, and in that way they were similar and much like their father had been in his youth and well into middle-age. It was in their genes to be athletic in form, just as it was to be coldly analytical perhaps, and less inclined to demonstrate emotion than act upon it. That was his gift to them, or so Wolfgang imagined, and it had not been coincidence that they'd both joined the police, again like their father who had worked for the East German State Security Police.
"I want you to like me," Eva said, turning around to face her brother as she let her t-shirt go.
"Of course I like you," he said, looking up at her with amusement. They'd had this sort of talk before.
"All of me?" Eva wondered with a smile of her own. "Even my scars?"
"You're lucky," Wolfgang turned away from her blue eyes. "The water is hot tonight."
"Hmph," Eva pursed her lips and unsnapped her jeans, pushing the denim down her narrow hips. She wore no panties and Wolfgang pretended not to look as her sex came into view. It was small and deep between her thighs with a tangle of light blonde hair to hide her pink vulva.
"I should shave, I think. Would you like me better?" Eva bit her lip and pulled at her pubis with her fingers, pressing her palm against her flat tummy.
"There's a razor in the medicine cabinet," Wolfgang told her, taking the excuse to turn his head and that made Eva smile. She wanted him to look at her.
"Will you do it for me?" she asked him.
"You've never shaved before?" Wolfgang drew a small breath as he looked at her.
"I have." She shrugged. "But I want to be spoiled. Please?"
"Perhaps I should, uh…" Wolfgang glanced at the door.
"I know you want to protect me." Eva turned, opening the medicine cabinet to find the disposable razors and shaving cream.
"You're my sister," he said. "And I wish you weren't."
She took a deep breath. "I know."
Eva turned around, handing a razor and metal can to Wolfgang before stepping past him, into the tub. The water was hot and she gasped and giggled, making a child-like pout as she sat down slowly with her back to the opposite end, facing her brother. The water did not rise to cover her nipples, but almost, and Wolfgang looked at them. Eva's breasts were mere handfuls, like a young girl might possess, and topped with dark, thick nipples. They were hard every time he saw them and he could imagine how they would feel, stiff beneath his fingers and tongue.
She watched him, leaning against the porcelain and bringing her hands up her taut belly to cup her tits. Eva squeezed the thin mounds of flesh and rubbed her thumbs over her nipples, staring at Wolfgang's face, watching his soft brown eyes drink her in. She was not beautiful, not even particularly attractive, the girl thought. She had to regain her weight and build up her strength. She wasn't proud of her body and with anyone else she might have been shy, even ashamed of her appearance, but not with him.
"Touch me," Eva whispered and it was so quiet in that tiny room. Her voice seemed to echo off the cracked and peeling walls.
The fluorescent light was harsh, bathing them in sickly light, and the tiled floor was mottled and stained like the tub Eva sat in. There was nothing pleasant to Wolfgang's senses but his sister and his heart swelled as he put his hand in the water, finding her right leg and following it upward. She was open and vulnerable, breathing heavily through her nose as she stared at his face. When his fingers found her sex, Eva gasped softly and closed her eyes. Her thin lips were parted and Wolfgang watched the tip of the girl's tongue as it moved between them.
"I'm sorry," Wolfgang whispered, leaning across the tub to find her mouth with his.
His finger entered Eva's sex, splitting her thin labia, and he cupped her vulva in his hand, holding the girl while they kissed. It was inevitable perhaps, a mistake or a joke that the one woman Wolfgang could love had turned out to be the one person he shouldn't. He'd known others, dated and made love, but there had never been a need to be with any of them. Never an ache, a physical pain that he could feel inside his gut when he watched her do the most ordinary things. His sister was a part of him, the best part, Wolfgang imagined. Eva was that which made him whole.
"Umphhh…" Eva groaned softly into Wolfgang's mouth, lifting her hips against the pressure of his tender exploration and drawing the man's tongue deeper between her lips.
The seduction was hers, as if her dependence had moved from drugs to Wolfgang. She needed him now. The anger and confusion had given way beneath his patient explanations to be replaced with trust and love. She'd worshipped their father as a child and missed him terribly when his visits had ceased without warning. Now she had him again in the form of the man who had saved her, the only person who would care for her. How could she not fall in love with him? Wolfgang was the man she'd dreamt of, the man she'd spent her life looking for and tonight she had him, finally and completely.
"I love you," Eva told him, holding Wolfgang's face in her hands, searching his eyes with hers.
"I'm here," he said softly. "I'll never leave you."
"I know," she said and then smiled, licking her bruised lips. "Shave me now. I want to watch you."
Wolfgang did as his sister demanded, shaving her legs first as Eva sat on the edge of the tub. She had very little hair in any event, but it was the ritual that mattered. Wolfgang drew the razor across her lily skin slowly, holding her calf or ankle, always touching her while Eva kept her eyes on him. She would spread her legs and hide nothing from his eyes. Her sex was plainly visible beneath her wet pubic hair, the girl's clitoris hard and swollen at the top of her slit. Eva's labia were small and pink, pulled outward by his fingers, and she bit her lip when Wolfgang shaved her pussy carefully.
She held her breath for long seconds at a time, letting it out slowly as he would drag the razor across the her soft skin, gathering clots of blonde hair and shaving cream to be rinsed vigorously away in the bathwater. He smiled apologetically at times and Eva would laugh at Wolfgang's concentration when he would narrow his eyes and furrow his smooth brow. He was so cautious and slow, teasing the girl and himself it seemed, and it was a long while before he was finished. He cupped lukewarm water in his hand and let it fall over Eva's smooth sex, touching her with his fingertips as if he'd never before seen a woman. It was an intimate pleasure and he reddened when he caught himself a moment later, much to Eva's amusement.
"Do you want me to shave under your arms?" Wolfgang asked and Eva tilted her head, lifting her right arm and she had a thin nest of dark hair in her armpit.
"I usually don't."
"Oh."
"Do you want to?" she asked him.
"No," Wolfgang said. "I don't mind."
"Good," Eva agreed, smiling down at the man as he knelt on the bathroom floor. "The water's cold."
"Yeah," Wolfgang reached into the tub, pulling the rubber stopper free.
"Will you take me to bed now?" Eva asked him, pretending idle curiosity as she examined her neatly shaved sex.
"We don't have to," Wolfgang sat back on his heels. "It won't change anything."
"No?" Eva looked up at him, blinking her eyes with a questioning look.
"It won't change how I feel about you. I will feel the same," Wolfgang explained. "That's what I meant."
"Then…" Eva smiled at him. "We have no reason not to, yes?"
"You're my sister," Wolfgang sighed
"And too much chivalry is unbecoming in a man," Eva decided, standing up. "We must cure you of this."
"Hmmm…" Wolfgang rolled his eyes and took Eva's outstretched hands. "And what will we tell God when He asks us why?"
"No," Eva said, drawing a deep sigh as she stepped close to him, putting her arms around Wolfgang's neck. "That isn't the question He'll ask us."
"Oh?" Wolfgang had his hands on her hips, feeling her bones beneath her warm skin and he was reminded that the girl wasn't yet recovered completely.
"How can we doubt what we know to be true?" They were very nearly the same height and Eva's eyes stared into his.
"We could be wrong," Wolfgang said.
"No," Eva told him with gentle conviction. "This can't be wrong."
Eva welcomed Wolfgang into her arms, lying on their bed naked and smiling. She'd watched him undress, admiring the man's hard body. He was smooth and his muscles well-defined as the man moved with an unconscious grace. His cock was already erect for her, long and dark, arching upward with a slight bow. Wolfgang felt as if he'd been hard since the first time she'd opened her clear blue eyes and given him a confused smile.
"Where am I?" Eva asked him, repeating the first words from her lips after waking on the third day.
"Safe," Wolfgang answered, lowering himself atop his sister and his cockhead fell low, rubbing across her moist sex.
"Yessss…" she sighed, closing her eyes and tilting her head back as the man's penis found purchase between her labia. Wolfgang pushed inside her slowly, watching Eva's face as she accepted him into her body.
"I love you," Wolfgang finally admitted aloud, bringing his lips to hers and kissing the girl as he thrust harder, stretching her small sex around him.
Eva's long legs came up, her knees rubbing against Wolfgang's hips and then his ribs as she sought to give him the penetration they both wanted. Her heart beat quickly, rushing hot blood and adrenaline through her veins and giving her the warm, pink flush of life. She gasped as her brother's cock found the bottom of her sex, just nudging the pillow of her cervix. It was good for her, that small shock of pleasure, and the girl knew in the back of her mind that soon enough she would stretch to accommodate him more easily. Her sex would elongate the way nature intended, even as the walls thickened with her excitement.
Wolfgang kissed his sister endlessly, making love to Eva's mouth while he gripped her thin shoulders, holding her steady and finally pulling at her body as his cock struggled against the confines of her tight cunt. He might have compared Eva to her mother, for they had a similar quality in their lovemaking, a certain skill that was undeniable. She was taking all of him now, grunting softly with each stroke and Eva's pussy was tight around him, unbelievably so. She would tighten her pelvis, the muscles inside her sex, and the mouth of her cunt would grip the man's penis at the root. He could feel the tension, the increased friction despite Eva's growing wetness. She was going to make him cum quickly, too quickly and Wolfgang stopped, holding himself buried to the balls in his sister's cunt as fought down his imminent climax.
"Don't stop…Please…" Eva panted softly, digging her fingers into Wolfgang's muscular shoulders. "I'm close now…Please…"
She was trembling with the need to cum, her entire body seeming to contract around the swollen cock buried inside her. Eva was on the edge and just a little more would push her over. The waiting for it, the begging, was a terrible tease and she pulled Wolfgang's face into her hair, finding his left ear blindly and biting it, urging him to drive into her hard and deep and fast and bring them both release.
"Fuck me now…" Eva demanded weakly, breathing the words into Wolfgang's ear.
"Ahhh…Eva…" Wolfgang nodded, kissing her soft hair and slender neck, drawing his hips back, sliding his cock half out of the girl before jamming himself inside her once more.
"Ugh! Ummm…hmmm…" Eva's blue eyes were glazed with lust as she let her brother move her legs over his shoulders.
Wolfgang pinned his sister to the bed, rolling her hips and ass upward to meet his pelvis. He fucked the girl quickly, with long and rapid strokes and Eva shivered at the sensation of her clitoris riding along the man's thick shaft. She was sensitive to it now, the stimulation becoming almost too much as it sometimes did. Her clit ached and thrummed, her cunt suddenly clenched around the man as her orgasm peaked. She pulled his mouth to hers, helpless to do anything else as Wolfgang drove his cock inside the girl relentlessly.
He felt her cumming, it was obvious and exciting the way she tried to move beneath him. Eva was trapped, bound by his arms and weight and cock, helpless and vulnerable and more than that, Eva was his. She was safe and protected and in his bed and that was the thought driving Wolfgang as he arched his back and exploded into her with his orgasm. He was cumming inside his own sister, joining her own unending climax and mixing their juices inside her quivering womb. There was nothing else in the world for him then, nothing but that moment of truth as they consummated their love.
"You made me cum," Eva breathed with a soft giggle, stroking Wolfgang's tangled hair as he collapsed on top of her.
"Me too," he whispered, still inside the girl, still hard and buried in the warm bath of their fuck. "Oh…That was good."
"Yes," she sighed happily. "We must do it again and again, I think."
Wolfgang pushed himself up so he could see her face, resting on his elbows as Eva's legs fell wide off his shoulders. She was shining and pink, glowing with pleasure and the girl's blue eyes were softer somehow, their intensity diminished for the moment. Eva was smiling as she combed her fingers through her brother's hair. After more than a year of playing the whore for Dubert and his friends, of fucking on command for strangers, she had finally made love to a man. She finally understood the difference and Eva made Wolfgang silent vows within her heart.
"I'm yours now," she told him seriously. "Always."
"Good." Wolfgang smiled, earning him a curious smile in return.
"Yeah?" Eva pursed her lips together in a small pout. "That's all you have to say?"
"Mmmm…" Wolfgang shifted his hips, feeling his cock throb against the soft walls of Eva's cunt. "I love you."
"Better." Eva laughed and drew a deep breath, stretching her body with a small squirm beneath him, giving her sex a squeeze to caress her brother's penis.
"I'll never let you go," Wolfgang decided, moving against her gently, feeling his desire becoming urgent once more.
"Fuck me now…" Eva agreed, closing her eyes. "Never stop fucking me, Wolfgang…Ummm…Like this…"
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"I want to see him," Eva said.
"Who?" Wolfgang asked, standing at the small gas stove and scrambling eggs for their breakfast.
"Our father."
"Why?"
"I want to see him." Eva shrugged. "Don't you?"
"Sometimes," Wolfgang allowed slowly. "I think about it."
"Take me to him."
"He's in prison. It will be difficult and…" Wolfgang frowned. "They may be looking for me. I don't know."
"The police, you mean." Eva nodded. "Can you find out?"
"Probably," Wolfgang said. "But you have no papers, no identification. Getting you inside to visit him…"
"You must know someone who can help us," Eva said as Wolfgang put a plate on the small table in front of her.
"I was a policeman," Wolfgang chuckled, "not a criminal."
"And so? Now you are, yeah?"
He looked at her for a moment and sat down, reaching for his coffee.
"We need money as well, I think." Eva stabbed at her eggs. "You have to take care of me now. You promised."
"I know."
"You see?" Eva smiled at him. "This is how it is for me everyday."
"What do you mean?" Wolfgang asked.
"This," she said with a shrug, looking around. "I wake up and I say, this is who I am now. What I've become. Like you, I must decide what I need to live one more day."
"Hmmm…" Wolfgang narrowed his eyes at the girl.
"You didn't expect to find me," Eva continued as she ate. "And now you have no plans, no idea what to do with me. But this is who we are now and this is what we must do to live one more day…"
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"What did you do?" I asked Wolfgang, reclining on the floor with my back against the sofa. Sofia's legs were spread around me and she was playing with my hair while we listened.
"I called an acquaintance, a friend who worked with the Bundeskriminalamt…"
"The what?" Sofia interrupted him.
"It's like the American FBI." Wolfgang shrugged. "If someone was looking for me, they would know. My friend would know."
"And he'd tell you?" I wondered.
"Probably not in so many words," Wolfgang admitted. "But his voice would tell me."
"Sure," I said with a nod. The surprise at getting a phone call from an old friend wanted for murder would probably be hard to hide.
"I called on the pretext that I would be in town and perhaps we could catch up," Wolfgang explained. "He sounded pleased, a little curious as we hadn't spoken since my dismissal, but there was nothing out of the ordinary."
"So you were okay?" I asked him.
"It seemed so," he said. "The next day I used the library, the computer there, to check newspapers. It had been two weeks, but there was nothing about a dead Russian in Hamburg. The death of Dubert was a mystery. The police blamed it on gangsters, drug dealers, but they had no suspects."
"So you got away with murder," Sofia said dryly and I glanced up at her.
"The difficulty," Wolfgang cleared his throat, ignoring Sofia, "was Eva, of course. She had no identification and so far as the world was concerned, she was a dead girl."
"I know the feeling," I said with a sardonic giggle.
"Fortunately," Wolfgang smiled from his chair and Eva gave him a playful look, "the last thing anyone wanted was to see her again."
"The Berlin police commissioner was very accommodating," she said with a laugh.
"I don't understand," I said, looking between the two of them.
"Eva contacted the commissioner, explained who she was and that her only desire was to live a private life," Wolfgang told us. "She was very reasonable about it."
"I was issued new papers two days later," she said. "Eva Koeller from Potsdam."
"Just like that?" Sofia sounded doubtful. "They didn't want to ask you questions or…"
"They probably wanted to take her into the forest and put a bullet in her head," Wolfgang said without humor. "It would have solved many problems all at once."
"I told them I had insurance," Eva said.
"She made it clear that she'd left proof of her identity with a third party, with a respected law firm, and if anything should happen to her…" Wolfgang shrugged.
"You blackmailed the police?" I rolled my eyes.
"It was necessary," Wolfgang said. "If they had called our bluff it would have been very bad, but they couldn't take that chance."
"God," Sofia snorted. "You guys are crazy. And you got away with all this?"
"Just so," Eva nodded. "A week later and we were…"
"…Married." Wolfgang smiled at his sister. "Her identity changed again, this time to Eva Brandt and…"
"You guys are married?" I stared at them.
"That is why we have the same name," Eva said.
"Eva was never adopted by our father," Wolfgang said. "She had her mother's name."
"Oh." I looked at Sofia. "Did you know they were married?"
"Uh…" She laughed. "I thought they were just…related."
"They are!" I looked at Wolfgang. "You married your sister. Legally?"
"Of course," he said with a small shrug. "Who would ever know?"
"And, so what?" Sofia wondered. "You want to have kids some day and…"
"Nein," Eva sighed. "No. My last abortion it was not so good, ja?"
"Eva can't have children," Wolfgang said. "Some problem with the lining in her uterus, the egg will not, uh…stick? I don't know the word for it."
"Ah, right," I nodded my head and Eva shrugged.
"Perhaps that is God correcting His mistake," she said, looking at Wolfgang. "For allowing us to love each other."
"We have each other," the man agreed, reaching for her hair. "That's enough."
"And now we have you as well," Eva turned her brilliant eyes on me. "Ja?"