Peter Jensen - The Captive Bride

She was only half-conscious now of Schneider and Christina talking in the darkened portion of the cave-like room. She heard a dog's bark, and other voices coming from outside. Slowly, she opened her eyes…

"There's nothing we can do about it now, I suppose," she heard the German's voice. "I will deal with them in my own way later."

"You should have known better than to leave the Swede alone with her," Christina replied.

"It was not only the Swede," Schneider said. "Hans had something to do with it."

"Your faithful servant," the young Italian girl laughed. "I saw the gardener and Olaf earlier… they were stumbling about on the lawn."

"I'll have to do something drastic with both of them," the German sighed, "but not now… I'm too preoccupied with other things."

Becky heard rising laughter coming from outside the door to the cellar. She looked across the room at Christina and Fritz who were silhouetted by the large orgiastic painting that covered the opposite wall.

"Hello, Becky," Schneider smiled and approached the bed

"Leave me alone," she groaned, jerking her legs at the cuffs that bound her ankles.

"Don't fight it, dear. There's no use in doing that," he said.

A threatening growl from the dog penetrated through her drug-dazed mind. Suddenly, Eric came up alongside his master. Schneider patted him gingerly on the back of the head. "Christina… let them in. Let our honored guests see this delectable young thing!" he turned to the brunette.

Christina unbolted the door in a welcoming gesture, and the room rapidly filled up with people, much to Becky's surprise. Most of them were respectably dressed men and women. She watched Schneider dismiss his body guards, probably to make the crowd feel more at ease. That was just as well with her, as they were an ugly leering group of men.

It took only a moment or so for the guests to decorously seat themselves in chairs that had been set up earlier in a wide semi-circle around the bed. A bar at the far corner of the room was serviced by two white-coated waiters who brought tall drinks on silver trays to the respective onlookers.

Becky flinched at the lewd comments that she couldn't help hearing directed at her shamelessly exposed young body.

Then, suddenly, the assembled crowd fell into silence. She winced, and closed her eyes as Jack was led bound and gagged into the cavernous chamber and was seated directly in front of the bed.

"We have quite an evening in store for us," Schneider addressed the crowd. "This is Mrs. Becky Thompson… and this happy young fellow here is her husband, Mr. Jack Thompson, son of the eminent American congressman."

A titter of almost polite laughter broke the silence. Someone said, "Come on, Fritz. Let's get on with it!"

"First, I'd like to do a little explaining to Mr. and Mrs. Thompson," he approached Becky's husband who was straining against his bonds ineffectually. "Look at these folks, Mr. Thompson. None of them appear at all disreputable, do they? They're quite normal looking," he smiled at the twenty-odd people seated around the young man. "The thing of it is all of them are in the drug business… each one of these gentlemen has a vested interest in your expediting our heroin shipment back to the States."

"Get on with it, Schneider!" a dark-haired man complained.

Fritz raised a cautioning hand. "We will photograph your wife in several interesting… poses… with the crowd watching on… obviously, you wouldn't want such pictures getting back to your father's congressional constituents, would you Mr. Thompson?"

Jack rocked back and forth in his chair.

"All right," Schneider turned to the crowd. "You wanted a good show… and now you shall have it."

Jack cringed at Schneider's words and tried to blot out the image of his wife brazenly stretched out on the mattress before him. She wasn't struggling… she seemed to be oblivious to the crowd surrounding the bed. What had happened to her? Why wasn't she fighting it? Why didn't she scream? He wanted to break out of his bonds and rescue her immediately, but even if he could have done so, something held his eyes magnetically to her naked young form… something beyond his own imaginings was about to happen, and in a dark secret part of himself he wanted to know what it was…

"ERIC!" Schneider suddenly roared, snapping his fingers in command as the fierce looking German shepherd guarding the entryway darted to his master's side.

Fritz leaned down and caressed the animal's neck. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Becky's husband begin flailing against his bonds, but the two guards standing beside the young man easily managed to restrain him.

"I had planned on a little warm up exercise for Mrs. Thompson," Schneider chuckled and rubbed his palms together, "But from the looks of things she doesn't seem to need it."

Without further ado, the heavy-set German slapped the dog on his back, signaling Eric to jump onto the bed.

Becky's eyes widened with terror and she tried to keep from screaming. The beautifully marked German shepherd stood at the young girl's side, his ponderous weight making the mattress buckle beneath his feet.

Fritz directed two men to untie her hands and feet. After she was free, the German encouraged the massively built dog, "Go on, Eric. Scent her… see how lovely a young American bitch can smell."

The dog's eyes drank in the whole, deliciously proportioned naked human female in one glance, from the round curving arcs of her hips, to her pink-nippled breasts that swayed slightly as she tried to cover them with her hands.

"Aaaaah!" Jack's voice broke through the gag across his mouth.

"Quiet!" Schneider spat at the protesting husband.

Thompson lapsed into an enforced silence, sinking back in the chair that was held by the two swarthy guards. He tried to look away as the dog moved jauntily up between Becky's long slender legs… but he couldn't pull his eyes from what was going to happen next.

The pretty young blonde tried to roll onto her stomach and crawl away from the animal, but a red-haired young man with an ugly scar across his chin thrust her into a supine position so that her rippling white belly and involuntarily widespread thighs faced the ferocious-looking animal.

"Pleeeeease!" she groaned, her eyes gaping piteously at Schneider who stood at the base of the bed beside her husband. "Ooooh, God… not this," she moaned as the dog slinked up between her legs. She tried to kick them shut, but Eric's savage growl sent her into a paroxysm of fear.

The dog edged back for a moment, cocked his head, and then leapt effortlessly to her side, as though he were trying to decide the best position to approach her from. Becky's breath caught uncontrollably in her throat as he stared down at her. She thought of leaping from the bed to escape, but looking up at the crowd with Schneider standing beside her husband, she knew it would be useless.

Eric lowered his head to lick with his hot wet tongue at the white smooth flesh of her nervously quivering belly.

"That's a good dog," Schneider urged on the animal.

Becky drew up away from him, but a fierce growl from the dog forced her helplessly onto her back again. Once more she felt his curling, fiery tongue and she raised her head to watch him licking upward over the rounded basin of her tight little belly. Higher and higher he came, until at last… God help me! she thought… he was licking the sensitive underside of her breasts, creeping slowly upward over them to their bursting nipples!

"Stop…stop him!" she screamed, pleading with her eyes at Fritz.

The crowd laughed. "Go on… let him lick you!" someone said.

The German smiled and turned to the crowd to observe their approval. On the opposite side of the room, Christina, his young Italian mistress, was loading the Polaroid camera with film. In front of him, the young blonde's husband rested back mutely in his chair, his eyes two flaming coals of astonishment. Fritz glanced at his cronies from Palma – most of them higher-ups in the drug syndicate who'd come to Mallorca during the summer to confer with him on business matters. The former Nazi knew none of them had expected to be entertained like this… not even he had imagined the evening would turn out as well as it was going.