Mark Richards was a free lance investigative Journalist who specialised in secret military forces. He had exposed several, left and right wing private armies that had terrorised foreign countries.
His present investigation promised to be the most sensational, and hopefully his most lucrative ever. However it was proving one of the hardest stories to unravel. He had stumbled on the story some three years ago when investigating a Peruvian private militia. One of its high officers during an interview had hinted about Nazi German private troops in Ecuador. He claimed to having been the guest of and trained by these groups. Richard thought the story would be worth investigating one day, but he never got round to it. Being between assignments and looking for cash Mark had been racking his brain to come up with a story to follow up. He read the daily papers. The London standard was running a series on Nazi war criminals and reports of secret forces under their descendants command. That's when he remembered the interview.
That was six months ago. Even with much delving he had come up with few leads. One however led him to a second world war veteran an ex-captain in the commandos. He told Mark about a specialist SS Female interrogation and torture brigade. He suggested that if Mark delved through government war records recently released under the thirty years rule, he may uncover more evidence.
Mark obtained the records, and through a contact in the US embassy obtained American war records as well. Studying these records allowed Richard to build up a picture of a specialist SS brigade composed completely of females. This brigade was infamous for its cruel torture, and murder of Jewish, Russian prisoners, French, and other partisans. Also any allied commandos and intelligence officers who were caught by the Germans.
Only a few low ranking officers were caught and tried by the allies. What had happened to the rest no one new. Mark decided to try and find out. He believed that this unit may have escaped intact. He traveled to Germany that led him to Brazil, Peru, and Ecuador. Finally in Ecuador he heard talk of one the original high ranking officers of this brigade now livid in England.
On his return to England his investigations led him to a country house in southern England. People in the local village knew nothing about the current owner of the big house. Except that the she was a German woman by the sound of her accent, she had nothing to do with the locals and her estate was guarded like a fortress.
Mark discovered that the house was purchased by Mrs. H. Braun on behalf of Society for world socialist order S.F.W.S.O. She had a daughter, and a granddaughter. It was the granddaughter that Mark was concentrating. Lady Montague Jones, which Mark suspected was a clever alias. This lady Montague Jones Sarah to her friends had been recruiting women for a special group. Supposedly dedicated to the feminist cause Mark knew it was really the recruiting of S.F.W.S.O. Mark was following Sarah to the groups' office in London.
Mark followed behind her Jaguar in his Ford Escort. When it stopped outside her office he parked just up the road. As he got back to her office he saw her, and her two guards entering the office door. Mark followed them in. "Lady Montague Jones or should I call you Sarah", Mark said loudly. "What", snapped Sarah turning sharply to see who it was. Sarah and her two female guards were dressed alike. They wore khaki shirts, and trousers, and black army boots.
"So you are Sarah mind answering some questions", asked Mark. "Questions what questions", barked Sarah. "Are you the head of the European arm of a neo-Nazi paramilitary group", asked Mark. "Let me warn you against getting yourself into more trouble than you can handle", said Sarah coldly. "You don't deny it then", quizzed Mark. Taking a couple of pictures of them.
"No pictures", shouted Sarah. "Afraid of a little publicity are we", challenged Mark. Sarah ignored his gibe and said to her guards, "The film get it". The two female guards advanced on Mark. "Now come I don't want to hit a women but you aren't getting this film", warned Mark. "I mean it OOF", Mark said as the first guard's boot sank into his stomach. Mark doubled and the second guard kneed him in the face.
Mark crumpled to the floor, and rolled about moaning as the guard's boots repeatedly slammed into his body. "Enough", snapped Sarah as she bent down, and picked up Marks discarded camera. She quickly removed the film, and put it in her pocket. "You would be wise to keep away from me next time I won't be so lenient", said Sarah. As to emphasise the point she kicked Mark hard in the balls.
Mark doubled up screaming in agony. Sarah's female guards threw Mark gasping, and groaning into the street. A rather dishelved, and bruised Mark staggered back to his car. The incident had happened two days ago. Rather than scaring him off it only made him more determined to find the truth. He decided to try the country house again.
As it was likely to be a risky adventure Mark decided to write to his brother. Who was also a journalist, he worked for the Observer newspaper. His name was Matthew and he was Mark's twin brother. Mark had confided in him before particularly if he was investigating something potentially dangerous. In the letter Mark detailed everything he knew about the case. Also the fact he was going to check out the country house in Essex.
Mark drove down to the village and had lunch in the pub. That's how he met Jack an old poacher. Mark bought Jack a few drinks, and was able to get some useful information out of him. Jack boasted that as guarded as the house was he knew a way in. He used to use it to sneak in and bag a few pheasants off the previous owner the local squire. For £20 Jack told Mark how to use his secret way in.
That's how Mark found himself inside the grounds of the house. He was in a small wooded grove. That gave him an excellent view of the house. With his zoom lens he obtained many pictures of women in black SS style uniforms parading around the house.
Just a few more shots should do me he thought. Mark then glanced down to his right. He saw two black shiny leather boots. There was also a similar pair to his left. When he looked up he saw two women dressed in black SS uniforms.
They grabbed him, and dragged him struggling out of the trees. Sarah came marching across the lawn dressed in an SS colonel's uniform. "You again well this time you will regret this I assure you", she said. At that point Mark decided he was having none if it.
He struggled free of his captors, and drove his elbow into the stomach of the one on his right. He then turned and landed a right hook to the jaw of the guard on his left. Mark followed through with a knee to her crotch. The guards fell gasping to the grass. Mark then turned and kneed the guard on his right, who was doubled up, in the head knocking her to the grass.
Sarah charged into him fists flying two landed on Mark's face, and he staggered back. He dogged Sarah's round house right, and landed a hard right to her left breast. She gasped clutching at her injured breast. Mark brought his knee up into her stomach winding her. He then turned to make his escape.
However the first guard was up, and on him. They reeled about swapping punches. The guard’s knee caught him in the balls, and he screamed in pain. He still managed to head but her to the face. She fell to the ground holding her nose. Mark tried to hobble away.
He had not noticed that the second guard although still in pain was up, and had drawn a leather cosh. Mark staggered away unaware of his danger. The guard brought her leather cosh down hard on the back of his neck. Mark dropped the floor where he lay on his back groaning semiconscious. Sarah and the two guards' picked themselves up. "You caused me enough trouble you bastard", said Sarah. Stomping her six-inch stiletto heel down into Marks groin. Mark sat bolt upright screaming in agony clutching his balls. Sarah slammed the steel cover point of her boot into his head, and he slumped unconscious to the ground.
When Mark came around he found himself sitting in chair, Mark shivered as if he were cold. As he tried to move he realised that his hands were tied to the back of the chair behind him. His ankles were tied to each leg. He looked around he was in a cold damp cellar a single bare light bulb burned over head. In front of him was a table at which a figure of women sat her face was obscured by the shadows. Standing either side of him were to female guards holding leather coshes.
Mark shivered again that's when he noticed that he was naked save for his white underpants. "Welcome back", said the seated figure. Mark recognised the voice as Sarah's. There was a sharp click, and a fierce bright light shone directly into Mark's face.
"Now you will answer some questions", said Sarah. "Why are you spying on us", she asked. "I'm not I'm a reporter", answered Mark. "Liar you are an agent for the Israeli government", said Sarah. "Rubbish I'm just a freelance journalist", stated Mark. "Stop lying what possible interest would the press have in us", countered Sarah. "You will tell us or suffer the consequences", she said. "Look this is ridiculous let me go I'm no agent", answered Mark.
Sarah said nothing she merely nodded at the guards. Instantly two coshes slammed into Mark's body. He screamed for mercy as the leather coshes pummelled his torso. The guards' then switched to his thighs. Please AHH god no please", pleaded Mark. "AHHHH fuck Awh fuck my balls", he squealed as a cosh sank repeated into his groin. Sarah nodded again, and the beating stopped.
Mark sat head bowed groaning his body sweating even in the damp cold cellar. "Now boy what are you doing, what are your orders", demanded Sarah. "Look I told you I'm not a Jewish agent I'm a reporter. "Liar if you are a reporter what are you doing spying on us", challenged Sarah.
Then Mark told her of his past work, and his specialisation on private militias. That's how he had heard about an SS brigade of female torturers used in the last war by the Gestapo. He had learnt that this unit may still exist today, if so he wanted to expose them. He was interested in talking to and reporting on the past, and present exploits of the group.
"Liar I demand the truth", said Sarah. With that the beating continued, although Mark screamed squealed, and begged for mercy he received none. It was not until he was semiconscious with pain that Sarah stopped the beating.
"Sarah got up and pulled Mark's head back by his hair. Staring down into his face she said, "I warn you they will beat you to death if necessary". "Please I'm telling you the truth I really want to know about the brigade", pleaded Mark. "Why should I believe a lying bastard", Sarah snapped.
"Look please believe me I want to learn about the brigade in the last war, and if it still operates to day", said Mark. "So you want to know all about us then", asked Sarah. "Yes", he replied. "You are right there was such a brigade in the last war", said Sarah. "My mother, and grandmother told me all about it".
"Originally it was set up to deal with female spies, and prisoners", said Sarah. "But their were to few women so the brigade switched its attention to male prisoners", she said. "At first their was only Jews mostly poor specimens only a few strong young men", she continued. "Then there were the Russian prisoners a little better but not much", she said. "Some of the resistance people were more fun the films I've seen you just wouldn't believe", said Sarah.
"However the best fun was had with allied commandos, and agents", also with our own deserters from the Russian front", she said. "I knew it please tell me more show me more", pleaded Mark. "I will do better than that I will allow you to experience them first hand", replied Sarah. "Bring him", she ordered.
Mark now hung in what could only be described as a torture chamber as seen in medieval films. He hung by his arms that were stretched out above him, and to the side. His legs were spread wide apart, and off the floor.
"We won't need these", said Sarah taking hold of Mark's underpants, and ripping them off. Mark now hung naked, and defenceless. "The cat", ordered Sarah. One of the female guards handed a cruel leather cat of nine tails to Sarah. "The cat is quite persuasive to loosen lying tongues", she said. With that she laid into Mark's naked body with the cat.
When she stopped Mark's body was covered completely in deep red welts. "Ready to confess yet", asked Sarah. "Mark his head hung down only groaned. "Well then lets try electric shock treatment", she said. One of the guards wheeled a machine across the room it hummed into life when she switched it on. Sarah picked up two metal probes with wooden handles.
She pressed them into Mark's chest.He cried out loudly as his body jerked about in shock, when Sarah removed them Mark's body went limp. Sarah then stuck one on each of Mark's triceps. "Eeei AHH, no please", begged Mark as his body jerked in convulsions. "What's the matter that was only 60 volts, we haven't started yet", said Sarah as she removed the electrodes.
Mark just hung there gasping for breath. "Double the voltage its time we stopped playing with him", ordered Sarah. One of the guards adjusted a dial on the machine. Sarah brought the probes close together a bright blue spark leapt between them. Mark shook his head pleading for mercy.
Mark screamed as the probes touched his nipples. His screams reached fever pitch as Sarah placed the electrodes on his thighs, and ran them up, and down. Mark's screams turned to frenzied squeals as Sarah touched the electrode to his penis, and scrotum. His body went limp as he lost consciousness.
Sarah still not satisfied continued to prod Mark's limp body with the electrodes. Which jerked about even though Mark was unconscious. "Bring him round", ordered Sarah. One of the guards picked up a bucket of water, and threw it over Mark. He came too coughing and spluttering.
"Well did you enjoy that as much as we did", asked Sarah. Mark simply shook his head. "How are your balls a little tender I bet", said Sarah, grabbing hold of them, and squeezed them hard. Mark screamed again, "Confess that you are a spy for the Israelis", demanded Sarah. "I told you I'm a reporter", said Mark in a high croaky voice.
"I've been too soft it seems it looks like you need some real persuasion", said Sarah. As she turned and walked away from him, Sarah suddenly whirled around and slammed the steel covered toe of her boot hard into Mark's balls. The steel tip sank deep into his scrotum. Mark let out a lung bursting scream of agony.
Sarah continued to land kicks to Mark's body. Her stiletto heels reeking havoc with his body. The cellar was filled with the sounds of sharp dull thuds, and groans of agony. Sarah stood back sweating from her exertions. Mark's body was covered in yellow and dark blue bruises. "Ready to admit your guilt", she asked. Mark despite his condition remained quiet.
"Right if that's how you want it fetch the brazier", said Sarah. The two guards dragged a brazier full of burning coals over. "Not hot enough the bellows", Sarah said. One of the guards worked a small pair of bellows fanning the coals until they were bright red.
Sarah picked up one of the two metal rods sticking out of the brazier. The end had been shaped into a swastika in a circle with a three-inch diameter, and it glowed bright red. Mark froze in fear as the red hot iron came closer to him.
He screamed as Sarah pressed the branding iron into his chest. There was crackling hiss as Mark's skin shriveled under the iron, and the cellar was filled with the smell of burning flesh.
Sarah moved around behind Mark and placed the branding iron to each cheek of his arse. Mark grimaced, and gasped as the hot iron burned the soft flesh of his buttocks. "Very good perfect brands", said Sarah pleased with her work.
She placed the iron back in the fire, and withdrew the second one. It was a much smaller version of the first one. "Guess were this one goes", asked Sarah smiling coldly. Mark only hung his head in resignation. "Well this one's going on your scrotal sac", Sarah informed him. "Hold his penis out of the way", she ordered.
The guard took hold of, and lifted Mark's limp penis. Sarah slapped the branding iron onto Mark's sac. He squealed like a stuck pig. "Yes another perfect brand even if I do say so myself", she said. "Oh dear he's fainted, never mind release him, and secure him to the table", she ordered.
When Mark regained consciousness he found himself bound spread-eagle on top of a wooden table. "Well its about time we haven't got all day you know", said Sarah impatiently. "Now for the finale", she said. "You wanted to know about the methods of torture used by our founders", stated Sarah. "Well now your about to experience one of their specialties", she said.
"The soldering irons please", ordered Sarah. The guard handed two soldering irons to Sarah, a large, and small one. "Plug them in", said Sarah. She waited for then to warm up. Sarah spat on the large soldering iron and the spit crackled, and bubbled with the heat of the iron. "Just perfect", said Sarah.
Sarah touched Mark's stomach with the end of the soldering iron. Making him scream as his skin burnt underneath it. "Electric soldering irons are so superior don't you think", Sarah asked. "No reply well never mind", she said. "My grand mother told me about the pleasure of burning a prisoner body with a soldering iron", Sarah told Mark. "However she said how annoying it was when she just got to the interesting part she had to replace the iron in the fire again", she said.
Sarah placed the tip of the soldering iron on the inside of his left thigh. She began to run the hot iron down Mark's inside leg. Mark screamed as Sarah left a trail of burnt skin from his crotch to his toe. She then did the same to his right inside leg Sarah now picked up the small soldering iron. She began to dab its hot point to the soles of Mark's feet. Mark screamed, and thrashed about in his bonds; so intense was the pain. "Are you now ready to confess your guilt", asked Sarah. "I can't I sorry I'm only a reporter", replied Mark painfully.
"You may be telling the truth it doesn't matter even if you are a reporter the cost of this story is going to be a very high one", stated Sarah. She touched the tip to his chest, and ran it across it. Mark squealed in agony as Sarah used the tip to burn letters on his chest, when she had finished it read SLAVE. "Please no more no more please, please AHH eeeie", screamed Mark. "Silence I haven't finished yet", snapped Sarah. She then began to dab the iron on Mark's penis burning it many times, driving him crazy with pain, until overcome he blacked out.
When he came around Mark found himself hanging naked in an empty cell. He was hanging by his wrists from a hook on the wall. Mark felt terrible his whole body ached, and the burns on his skin were very sore, and painful. What are they going to do to me, thought Mark. He knew he couldn't stand another session like that. As Mark recalled his ordeal he shuddered in at the thought of going through it again.
As he hung there he became excited as he thought about his suffering, god knows why he thought but my cocks getting hard. His body shivered not from cold but from thinking about the soldering irons scaring his body. When he though of the word Sarah had burnt onto his chest, Mark's cock became instantly erect. Mark hung his head down in contemplation of the fate that awaited him.
Mark didn't have to wait long at that moment the cell door opened, and a light came on. Sarah came into the cell. "Well your awake at last", she said. She stopped short when she saw his groin. "Well, well I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself", said Sarah. "Grand mother told me that men could be excited by being tortured by a women, but I wouldn't believe her. "Now I've seen it for myself", she said.
"If you enjoy it do you wish to be my slave", Sarah asked Mark. He said nothing only nodded his head weakly. "Good well I can promise you a long painful time as I experiment on your body", said Sarah. "That's if you can survive the shock", she said. "Well let's not worry about that who cares what happens to a slave", said Sarah as she left the cell. Mark his head hung in shame as heard Sarah's cruel laughter disappear down the corridor.
BY FRIAR FFF. PO BOX 37132 5307 PROTARAS CYPRUSCopyright 1994.
