Captured By The Gestapo by Mark Andrews

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Captured By The Gestapo

(Mark Andrews)


Captured By The Gestapo

Chapter 1

 

Yes, it's true! I really was captured by the Gestapo, the so feared secret police arm of the SS in Nazi Germany. Impossible, you say. That organisation was abolished, along with all other agencies of the Third Reich after the end of World War II, so how could I, a science student at Bond University on the Gold Coast of Queensland, Australia, have been kidnapped by it in 2015, seventy years after its demise?

By means of a time machine. That's how! Again I hear you say, 'Impossible!' Such things are a figment of the Science Fiction writers' imaginations!

Well, if it hadn't happened to me, I as an almost graduated physics major, would have totally agreed with you. But let me tell it to you as it happened...

 

He was an old-world gentleman. A patrician of ancient lineage, I imagine. His name was Count (Graf) von Zimmerman and he was a professor of physics at Berlin University (or said he was, intimating that it was the Berlin University of today) and was not only a high-ranking member of the Nazi Party, but also a very senior officer in the Schutzstaffel (SS) which included the Gestapo or secret police.

Of course when I met him, I had no idea of that. I was a student at Bond, as I said but I was also on the university's gymnastics team for that sport was my one real hobby and I spent all my free time practising it.

Of course that's why Zimmerman was there. He was recruiting both male and female gymnasts for his nefarious activities in Nazi Germany.

He introduced himself to me after the gymnastics meeting and invited me to dinner at the Marriott Hotel which boasted one of the Gold Coast's most exclusive restaurants. I was flattered by the offer but also by his suave urbanity. And his northern German fair good looks might have played a part, too.

Anyway, he sent a limousine for me at my digs near the uni and I travelled to the hotel in fine style. During the dinner he plied me with expensive wines and top class food and asked me all about my course and my real love: gymnastics. He was courteous and interesting and it was a wonderful dinner. We spoke on his latest research into matter-transfer and as this subject was of great interest to me, I then accepted his offer to see his latest notes on the subject. Stupid of me? Perhaps, but I was fooled by his stature as a scientist (remember he claimed to be a current professor at Berlin University) and his aristocratic courtesy.

But as soon as we were inside his suite, he fished a small object out of his pocket, then put his arms around me as if he was going to kiss me and then there was just blackness.

I have no recollection of movement or anything else for the few seconds it took, and then it was light again and we were in a sombre stone-walled room in what appeared to be an ancient castle. It was. But we were now in the mountains of Bavaria!

Yes, we had moved, not only in time (to 1943) but also geographically, to the Germany of that era. And standing in the room were two soldiers, each wearing the black and silver uniforms of the Gestapo.

"Strip her!" the count said. He said it in German but for some reason I cannot understand, I comprehended every word. And no, before that moment, I had never been familiar with any foreign language. It was weird but at that moment, it never even entered my head that I had grasped his words. I was too flabbergasted by our sudden transposition from the Gold Coast of Australia to the mountains of Bavaria, Germany and that we had moved back in time seventy-odd years for I caught sight of the date on his desk calendar.

And yes, I could read German as well as understand it!

But right then I had to contend with the two handsome, blond muscle-boys in the so fearsome black and silver uniforms. Of course I shouted at them to keep away and I also yelled at the professor, demanding to know where we were and how we had moved from the Marriott hotel room to this place, wherever it was.

He just smiled and watched as the two goons easily overpowered me and, garment by garment, ripped my best frock from my body, shredding it to rags in the process, and then continued on, tearing off my underthings until they all lay in an untidy heap all around me and I was now naked - stark naked before all three of them.

I am not normally prudish. Sportspeople can't be. We dress and undress in front of our peers all the time, but this was different. I had been stripped! Forcibly denuded of every last one of my clothes and each of these three horrible men were now eyeing my body lecherously, the two handsome young goons actually feeling down my breasts, buttocks, thighs and even my vulva, poking their filthy fingers into my vagina until I was squirming from the so unwanted attention but powerless to stop my body from reacting to it.

"What a slut!" the professor sneered. Yes it was still in German, as would be all the conversations whilst I was there, but I will translate them as I go.

I reared up at his words, standing up proudly and denying vehemently that I was any such thing, at which he grinned and told his men to continue fondling my body.

They did, while he leaned back against his desk, watching with the same expression of lust as he had when they stripped me.

"And now, fuck her," he ordered.