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Hostage of the Hun (Diana Philbrick)

Hostage of the Hun by Diana Philbrick

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    • Average 4.5 from 4 ratings

Tracy stood quietly as the trainer lifted her bare feet and slipped them into the boots. She was taller, her calves were longer, and her already-high butt was even more perky. She shuffled her legs and realized her gait in the...hooves would also be different - more womanly. As he laced-up the arm sleeve, she could feel her breasts and nipples lifting and her spine curving to its limit. The laces were pulling her skin drum-tight over her torso. Watching the lust grow in the stable-men’s eyes was frightening and at the same time shamefully exciting. The purpose of her equine transformation was blackmail and her ransom, the freedom of the entire world.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 2 / 2017

No. words: 40815

Style: Historical Bondage/BDSM, Bondage/BDSM Thrillers

Available Formats: Palm  MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  Sony Reader (LRF)  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


Chapter 1

The truck moved fast, too fast for Reims’ narrow wet streets. Marie Roulades prayed for an accident, a quick death as she watched the building fly by. The canvas flap had been left open in the rush to spirit her to SS headquarters for questioning.
Questioning under torture...
Her worst fear had been realized tonight--she had been arrested and no one had noticed. The Resistance would not realize she was missing until morning which meant she must hold out for eight hours. Eight hours... It didn’t seem like much unless each second of those eight hours was spent in excruciating agony then it would seem like Hell. The SS were savages; they followed no rules; they had no code, no human decency. The fact that she was young, only 20, and a woman meant nothing to them.
She turned towards the stone-faced guard at her side and smiled. No response. She opened her mouth and showed him the tip of her tongue. It was a clear sexual invitation. She was beautiful; flirting had worked for almost two years to distract German soldiers like him from their duty.
He just laughed.
“Relax, mädchen. You are a very valuable catch. My sergeant would cut off my balls if I touched you,” he said it lightly, clearly enjoying her distress.
He spoke...she thought hopefully. It was a start. Soldiers lived by a different moral code--they did what they wanted if they thought he could get away with it. She had seen it a thousand times. Living with the constant possibility of death rewired your brain...hers too.
She turned and pouted then twisted her shoulders as if disappointed.
If she could provoke his libido into action, she had a chance. There was no other option, her bondage was inescapable. The guards at the checkpoint had pulled her arms behind and belted her wrists and elbows tightly together. Then, before hoisting her into the truck, one of them had taken off her shoes.
That was smart, she thought, a hard kick from a pointed shoe could disable even the biggest brute. Without her shoes, she was now disarmed and helpless. Attack would be difficult, even suicide would be hard.
She slowly moved her lower legs back under the bench imagining how she would propel herself through the open flap. She felt the truck’s side with her feet and prepared her muscles to spring. Hitting the cobblestone pavement at this speed might kill her or render her unconscious for hours. Either outcome would be welcome.
Suddenly a strong hand locked on the belt around her upper arms.
“Don’t even think about it, mädchen” he growled. “We need what’s in that pretty head of yours. Couriers like you are valuable if you squeeze them when they are ripe...full of juicy information, eh.”
“There has been a mistake, soldier, a terrible mistake. I don’t know anything. I’m just a student. Please...you know what they do to people like me even when they are innocent. Just let me jump. It will be easy for you to explain how I...”
He stared at her closely for the first time. She was beautiful in the way only a Frenchwoman can be beautiful.
“Innocent you say...? I would not want an innocent Mädchen like you delivered into the hands of SS-Stabsscharführer (Sergeant) Günther. He has no feelings, not like me. Okay, I will do it...if you are nice to me.”
He put his rifle down on the floor then lifted her onto his lap and slipped his hand inside her shirt. She locked her mouth onto his and they began to kiss, her tongue thrusting inside with growing excitement. His fingers found her nipple and began to pinch. She moaned into his mouth half in pain, half in pleasure. She could feel his cock hardening against her grinding crotch.
“Please, soldier, I want to feel you inside. Please... I need your cock...my cunt...it’s burning up.”
She knew the dirty talk didn’t match the innocent schoolgirl image she was trying to project, but he was too far gone to notice. He was already thrusting out his groin in anticipation of fucking her. She moved her bare feet to the floor.
“My panties...take them off...please...”
He ran his hand under her skirt and up the inside of her bare leg. Touching her skin made him grunt with desire. He wasn’t thinking like a soldier in this instant. Her eyelids fluttered as if she was responding, suddenly overcome with sexual need.
“Please, soldier...the panties, your belt.”
Her words were clearly laced with passion now. It was an act at least most of it was an act. There was no way to stimulate sexual excitement without getting into it. She enjoyed making out with the young men who guarded the city’s checkpoints. Even a German could make a woman...
His hand was on her mound; he pulled her panties to the side and shoved his thumb inside her labia, rubbing her clit with...
Her knee came up without warning with as much violent force as she could muster. She heard the crack of a bone and a painful snort as blood immediately moved into his airways. If she had use of her hands, she would have jammed the cartilage into his brain. Instead, she dived for the opening still intent on causing enough injury to make her interrogation impossible.
But it was not to be.
The guard reached out through his pain and blood and grabbed the belt on her arm slinging her back into the truck. He went to his knee holding her on the floor as she lay dazed, her long legs open. Suddenly she laughed derisively mocking his lust, his weakness. Murder rose up in his eyes...exactly what she wanted. She smiled; these Germans were like wild beasts they could always be outwitted by a clever Frenchwoman.
It was her smile that brought him to his senses. Rather than push him over the edge, it reminded him that she was important to his superiors. She had many Resistance names and cell locations in her head.
Roughly, he pulled her to her feet, removed the belt from his pants, and used it to secure her bound arms to the round cleats behind the bench.
“That was good,” he said sincerely, using a cloth to stem the flow of blood. “You nearly escaped. I admire such courage even in a Frenchman. I suggest you tell them everything you know as soon as they ask. Sometimes they keep the pretty ones around for sport--for the officers, you know--but only if they cooperate right away. They are not so pretty after a few hours with Stabsscharführer Günther.”
She stared at him. It was good advice.
“Thanks for the advice, pig, but I think I would rather suffer and die than become sport for a boche enculé, a motherfucker like you.”
He shrugged and sat down on the opposite side staring at her. She wasn’t one of the Resistance fighters. She just carried messages between the cells around Reims. The leaders had selected her for the job because they knew her good looks would disarm the affection-starved Germans. They had been right...for a long time.
She tested the binding again still hoping for a way out.
The truck passed through an archway into a courtyard and stopped. The driver came around to the rear. He spied the guard’s face then he turned quickly to inspect the girl. The relief on his face when he saw she was intact and fully clothed was almost comical.
“You better get that blood cleaned off before the Unterscharführer (squad leader) sees you, Heinz. He will know immediately what you’ve been up to.”
The guard laughed trying to hide the embarrassing fact that he looked a mess while she was still gorgeous.
The two of them lifted her off the truck and half-carried her into a formidable brick building. She knew it instantly; it was the former armory and headquarters of MDC-Reims, the Maginot Defensive Command. It had been commandeered by the Germans as SS and Gestapo Headquarters for the Province of Reims.
She suddenly felt dizzy and swooned. The guards just lifted her higher, so high her bare feet hardly touched the ground. She fainted when the heavy door closed behind.
She awoke to the sharp smell of ammonia in her nose and the handsome face of SS-Stabsscharführer Rolf Günther in front of her eyes.
“Good evening, Miss Roulades...Marie. I have been asked to get you ready for questioning. The standartenführer (colonel) himself wants to speak with you.”
He spoke with such a kind voice she thought she had escaped. She held onto his gentle eyes like a life-line.
“Please...,” she whispered.
“Of course,” he said. “You just relax. This will all be over soon and you will be back in your dormitory in your own bed. I promise.”
She was lying on a bench. She tried to swing her legs to the side, but they wouldn’t move. She raised her head; her ankles were shackled, the same for her wrists. The handsome sergeant with the kind eyes picked up a pair of surgical shears and cut off her clothes. Still smiling, he put leather gloves on her hands and calf-high boots on her feet.
“There, all done. That wasn’t so bad was it?”
Stupidly, she nodded her head in agreement.
“Peter, will you help me get Marie on the block...”
A second man walked into her sight. Each took an arm and together they lifted her atop a piece of wood; its top was shaped like a wedge. She cried out as the blunt edge of the wedge slipped between her labia.
“Please...,” she cried weakly.
They ignored her as they brought her arms behind and hooked the gloves to a waiting ceiling rope. The sergeant tied a belt around her forearms. With practiced ease, they raised her booted feet to the side of the block and hooked her ankles to waiting rings.
“Please, I don’t know anything. I’m innocent. I am not a member of the Resistance. I was just on my way to visit my parents as I do every week. Please, this hurts me. Ask the guards at the checkpoints. They all know me...Marie. I am not...”
“Quiet now, Marie,” the sergeant said. “We are not at that part yet. As I said, my job is to get you ready for questioning.”
Suddenly a whip lashed out striking her on the thigh. She screamed and lifted her body off the wedge. In a moment she settled back down and received another jolt of pain as the wedge pinched her cunt lips. The whip struck again on the side of her breast and again she screamed and rose up. He moved around continuing to target patches of untouched skin until she was too weak to rise up. She could only wait in terror for the next stroke.
Her entire body seemed to be on fire.
“I think you are ready now, Marie. What do you say?”
She raised her head and stared at him. Every inch of skin hurt. She feared the slightest touch. He had not asked her anything yet. What would it be like when the questioning started?
“Please...,” she hissed. “Please...”
He nodded and smiled.
“Yes, you are ready. I will advise my superiors.”


The Guns of Navarone retold but will the good guys, and girls, win...much excitement and interesting historical characters slightly reconstructed with suffering heroines galore Diana does it again with great BDSM sub plots that still work nicely within the story.....but what happens next 5 out of 5 (Elliott)

Author Information

I enjoy submission. It opens the door to another world--one filled with extremes of sexual feeling that just don't exist anywhere else.
NYC is home, but I travel often for work writing stories about BDSM along the way.

Your feedback is important to me. Please leave a comment or write to DianaPxxx@gmail.com.


Publisher Information

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