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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: countes1.txt (MF, v, bd, tor, v)
Authors name: Herr Oberst (address withheld by request)
Story title : Countess, The - 1
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2003. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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The Countess - 1 (MF, v, bd, tor, v)
by Herr Oberst (address withheld by request)
***
Countess Christiana von Keller was a socialite living the
high life in Munich during 1944. Her life fell apart when
she was arrested in connection with the attempt on
Hitler's life. Her ordeal at the hands of Stiener, a
Gestapo officer, began. Chapter One covers her initial
arrest - three more chapters follow.
***
CHAPTER ONE: Arrested
Klaus Stiener walked slowly up the stone stairs. When he
reached his floor he smiled as the two guards outside his
office stiffened to attention. Power and respect were
wonderful. He nodded as a guard opened the door for him
and he entered the dimly lit room.
"At last. I've been waiting here for hours."
Stiener looked up. The woman facing him was standing by
his desk. Her beauty stunned him. She was wearing a full-
length black fir and her long blond hair cascaded over
her shoulders framing her round pale face. His eyes moved
to her deep red painted lips, which were mouthing the
usual protests of no interest.
"I demand to see the person in charge. Is that you?" She
shouted.
Stiener walked behind his desk and sat down, opened a
manila file on the desk and looked up into that beautiful
face.
"I am Obersturmbannfuehrer Klaus Stiener madam." He
smiled.
"And Obersturmbannfuehrer Klaus Stiener", she almost spat
the words out, "have you any idea at all who I am?"
Stiener looked down at the top page in the file. "If I am
not mistaken you are Countess von Keller."
She sat down, opened her bag and took out a silver
cigarette case.
"And have you any idea who my husband is?" She took out a
long, hand-made cigarette, lit it and blew a stream of
blue grey smoke into his face.
He coughed lightly and glanced back down at the file.
"Your husband?" He smiled. "That would be General Count
von Keller." He looked back at her and then he sensed it
- fear.
She drew deeply on the cigarette and blew another stream
of smoke in his direction. She was trying desperately to
appear confident but the confidence was starting to slip.
"Exactly, General Count von Keller, commander of the 19
Corps - and HE WILL HAVE YOU SHOT FOR THIS."
He leaned back in his chair and looked into her eyes.
"That would be difficult Countess, you see your husband
was arrested last night, interrogated and, at three
o'clock this afternoon, was shot by firing squad."
The shock in her face was obvious. "Arrested! Shot! There
must be some mistake." Her voice was trembling now.
"There was is no mistake Countess, I delivered the coup
de grace, a bullet through the brain, myself."
"Oh my God! But why? Why?"
"Your husband was arrested in connection with the attempt
on the life of the Fuehrer. He confessed and suffered the
consequences."
"But, but what do you want with me? I know nothing of
this."
"That countess is what I need to establish and that is
why you are here."
"But you can't think..."
"ENOUGH!!" His shout shook her. "I am here to ask the
questions Countess. You are here to answer. And now there
are certain formalities...."
"But..."
He took out his pen and looked down at the form.
"Please confirm your full name." He waited.
"Countess Christiana von Keller." She said quietly. Her
mind was racing. There must be someone. Someone she could
call.
"Date of birth?"
"16th December 1908"
"So that would make you 35 years old. And now your
address in Munchen?"
"I have an apartment at 623 Laemmerstrasse."
"Good. Now that wasn't so difficult was it?"
"Please, I know nothing of my husbands affairs. I haven't
seen him for months."
"Let me see." He turned a page in the file. "Not quite
true Countess. You last saw your husband at a reception
given by the Fuehrer on the 24th June - 6 weeks ago. You
phoned him three days later to ask for money. Again the
next week - a similar request. And I believe your last
communication was a note you sent to him 3 days ago.
Again you were asking for money."
Her mouth hung open for a second. She stubbed her
cigarette out. "Well if you know that much you will know
that we were not very close."
"That appears to be true Countess. However you do appear
to have been close - as you put it - to several others.
Kapitan zur see Hienrick Feltz, Oberst Hans Fuller,
Leutnant Peter Schell, a French engineer Charles Gabon
and a musician Arnold Eston. There are others in the file
but I believe these to be your most recent - how shall I
put it - distractions?"
"How do you...?"
He cut her off. "It is the Gestapo's business to know
Countess. Of this group I personally found Leutnant
Schell the most interesting."
"Peter? I mean Leutnant Schell. Why he is just..."
"Like your husband Countess he is, or rather was a
traitor. We hanged him last night using piano wire. He
took a while to die and he shit and pissed himself in the
process. I found it quite amusing really." He smiled
again.
"You..? But..." Her face was even paler now and she was
shaking slightly. Stiener looked again into her eyes -
still no tears - but fear - definitely fear. He felt
good.
"But you can't think I had anything to do with the..."
"Countess, please, look at the facts. Your husband and
one of your lovers were both implicated in this
despicable and traitorous act. How can I not suspect
you?"
"But I don't know anything about the attempt on the
Fuehrer's life." Her pale face had become whiter now and
the fear was mounting.
"That Countess is what I hope to establish. Now there are
other formalities I am afraid. If you look behind you,
you will see a cardboard box on the table. I would be
grateful if you would place all your clothes and jewelry
in it."
"What!! You want me to strip in front of you?" Her voice
was shocked. She could hardly believe what he had just
said.
"What I want Countess is for you to place your clothes
and jewelry in the box. If you do not obey", his hand
moved to cover a button on the desk, "I will signal for
the guards and they will help you". He looked into her
face again and paused.
"Please - look - you have to see that I..."
"The box Countess NOW - or would you prefer the guards'
help?"
She sat staring at him for a few seconds. There had to be
a way out of this. There must be someone she could call.
She seemed detached from herself not believing what she
was doing as she rose and walked towards the large box on
the table. Her mind was racing. It was a nightmare, it
wasn't happening. Soon she would awake with Peter at her
side. Oh my God! Poor Peter. A picture came into her mind
of his athletic body jiggling on the end of a wire. She
felt sick. My God what sort of evil monster could do
that.
She slipped the mink from her shoulders and folded it
neatly inside the box. Her hands moved behind her to undo
her long black silk evening dress. She was in her
dressing room. The monster was not there. She felt the
thin silk slide down to the floor. Stepping out of the
crumpled dress she bent down to pick it up.
Stiener glanced up at the view. My God she is beautiful.
Her slim body was now dressed only in a black silk
basque, stockings and French style pants.
She folded the dress and lay it gently on top of her
coat. She shivered slightly with the cold. Her dreamlike
state continued as she pulled off her rings. She was at
home in her apartment getting ready for bed. The box was
her dressing table. She always removed her wedding and
engagement rings before joining her lover in bed. Poor
Peter. She unclipped the pearl necklace and dropped into
the box. She would take off her pants next. She paused.
He noticed the pause. "All your clothes countess or would
you like help?"
She slipped the silk pants down her legs, stepped out of
them and bent down to pick them up. Stiener looked at the
perfectly round, pure white bottom. God she was
beautiful. He caught sight of a thin wisp of blond hair
through the small triangular gap at the top of her legs.
A natural blonde. He smiled.
She imagined she was stripping for her lover. He mind was
in turmoil. Who could she ring? Perhaps Stiener would be
her next lover. She knew how quickly men fell in love
with her. She knew the effect her body had on men. It was
an act now. She kicked off her 4 inch black heels and
bent slightly to unclip the first of her stockings. She
slid the stocking slowly down her leg. She knew he was
looking at her arse.
Stiener watched the show and smiled. By the time she had
removed the second stocking his cock was already
hardening in his pants.
Her hands moved to the small red ribbon on the basque
between her large breasts. As she pulled the ends of the
ribbon she felt her breasts sag slightly as the cups
moved apart. Her hands moved down the basque slowly
undoing each of the remaining 6 ribbons. The basque fell
to the floor. She bent down to gather it up with her
stockings.
"The floor is cold Countess. You may put your shoes back
on."
There was a softness in his voice - a slight nervousness.
So he did fancy her. He was going to be her next lover.
Why are men so fickle with their simple fetish pleasures?
She needed nobody. Her body was, as always, her fortune
and now it would be her salvation.
She slipped her heels back on and paused before turning
towards him. Steeling herself she turned, her left arm
partly covering her huge breasts and her right hand
resting lightly on her blond pubic hair.
As he looked up at her she smiled. "And now what shall
we do Obersturmbannfuehrer Klaus Stiener?" Her voice was
coquettish. She moved slowly towards him. He was just
another man - another conquest.
He looked up at her and returned her smile as his hand
moved towards the Bakelite button on the desk. Her eyes
widened and the smile disappeared. What was he doing?
"Noooooo. Please!!"
She watched in horror as his finger depressed the button
and she heard the muffled sound of the bell outside. She
turned, grasping herself tightly with her arms as the two
green uniformed guards entered.
"Put her on the stool." Stiener ordered.
She turned back to Stiener as the guards approached.
"Please. I've done what..."
The guards grabbed an arm each and forced them behind her
back. Stiener watched her breasts swing as they cuffed
her and dragged her towards the small stool by the side
of his desk. They pushed her down and she felt something
clip onto the bar between the handcuffs. She tried to
rise but couldn't, the metal stool was fixed firmly to
the floor.
She was still trying to protest when one of the guards
pulled her head sharply back by the hair. As she opened
her mouth to speak the other guard shoved a black rubber
ball into her mouth. It locked behind her teeth. As she
tried desperately to expel it she felt the guard behind
her secure it in place by the locking the buckle attached
to the straps on either side of the ball behind her head.
She tried to scream to speak to communicate. Only muffled
incoherent sounds emerged.
"Thank you. That will be all." He paused and looked down
at her. "For the time being at least."
The guards came to attention and clicked their heels in
salute before striding out of the room.
She looked across at him, tears now steaming down her
face. Her mascara was running in grey black streaks down
her reddened cheeks.
Stiener rose and moved towards her. He leant against his
desk and folded his arms gazing down at her. She was
going to be an enjoyable experience.
"Now Countess let me give you an insight into the art of
interrogation."
She was shaking now. She was cold. Her large nipples were
standing proud on her two huge mounds. What is he saying?
Interrogation? Surely he was not going to hurt her? She
would tell him anything. Why isn't he fucking her?
"Basically," he continued, "there are two schools of
thought."
She tried to tell him but the sounds made no sense.
"The most common practice would be for me to ask you a
question like..." he looked thoughtfully at the ceiling
as though he were trying to dream up a question. "...Were
you present when Leutnant Schell met your husband after
the Fuehrer's reception in Birchesgarten?"
She shook her head and tried to speak. He moved behind
her. She jumped when he placed his cold hand on her right
shoulder. She was still shaking her head trying to say
no. A muffled, "Ar, Ar, Ar," was all that emerged from
the gag.
He slid his hand down over her breast. Cupping the heavy
orb he bounced it gently.
"And then when I get an answer I know to be false." again
he paused and moved his hand slowly up to her nipple
clasping it gently between his thumb and finger.
".I do something to cause you discomfort." He started to
squeeze the nipple, crushing it, twisting it, pulling it.
A bolt of intense pain shot through her. She screamed
through gag. He let go after a few seconds and moved back
in front of her.
"You see Countess I know that you were present when the
two traitors met."
She was still shaking her head. The pain in her nipple
eased quickly to just a dull burning sensation. If only
he would remove the gag she could explain. She had drunk
too much. She was nervous about Peter meeting her
husband. She couldn't understand why on earth he wanted
to talk to him. She left them to go to her room. The gag
the damn gag. Why won't he let her explain?
"But that was just an example of the most commonly used
approach."
Isn't he interested in her answer? What is he doing? What
is he going to do? Her shaking had increased. She needed
a toilet. She needed to pee.
"You see," he continued "the problem with that approach
is you can never be sure how much discomfort you have to
cause before the truth emerges. It can also be difficult
keeping track of all the lies and half-truths. More
importantly I have to waste much of my valuable time
asking and re-asking the same questions."
In spite of the cold she was sweating now. She could feel
it trickle down her side from under her armpits. What is
he saying? Why is he doing this? There is no need. She
would tell him everything, anything. Why doesn't he just
remove the damn gag?
"Now you see my preferred approach - the second school of
thought - is to demonstrate to my," he struggled for the
word, "clients, yes clients, exactly what they can expect
if they insist on telling lies or hiding the truth from
me."
Oh my God what is he going to do? He cannot be going to
hurt me. Just let me answer the bloody questions.
"I find this method - my method - to be infinitely more
effective."
As he walked back round to his chair at the desk she
could see the bulge in his pants.
As he pushed the button again she was shaking her head
violently.
She looked towards the door as the two guards entered.
They were smiling, evil sadistic smiles.
"Take her next door and get her ready."
One of the guards released her cuffs and then taking an
arm each they lifted her off the stool. She was
struggling, kicking her legs, trying to glance back to
appeal to Stiener as they almost carried her towards the
other door in the office.
Stiener looked up at her. Watching her pathetic attempts
to get out of the iron grip of the guards. As she
disappeared through the door he lifted the phone on his
desk.
"Put me through to Frauline Kirst."
He stood waiting and listening to the struggles next
door.
"Anna? Anna darling I am sorry... yes I know I
promised... work I'm afraid... look I have booked a table
at Fredrick's for 8... that's Ok... I'll send a car... 30
minutes then... bye darling."
He tapped the receiver and waited a few seconds for the
operator to answer. The noise from next door had quieted
down.
"Put me through to the Duty Office... Hello... Hello...
Stiener here..send a car to pick up Frauline Kirst for me
would you... about 30 minutes... bring her back here."
As he replaced the receiver the two guards emerged from
the other room.
"Will that be all Sir?"
"Yes I am going for dinner soon I will set things in
motion before I go. Frauline Kirst will be here soon.
Send her in when she arrives."
The guards nodded, clicked heels and left.
Stiener opened the countess' cigarette case and took out
one of the cigarettes. `Expensive', he thought. He lit it
and inhaled deeply. `Well work calls, no rest for the
wicked.' He stubbed out the cigarette and walked quickly
towards the door and his latest - client.
Chapter 2: The Machine, coming shortly...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 24