Eric Jurgens - Nazi joy camp

She speared herself down onto him again and again with all her strength. His strong arms encircled her back then his hands slid to her warm soft buttocks. He clasped them firmly and dug his fingers into her smooth flesh. She moaned and let him take charge of her movements. She ground her hot little pussy down firmly onto his hard prick and felt it throb deep within her. She loved the fiery sucking of her breasts. It increased all the desire within her until her movements became uncontrollable. She forced herself down and up his hard prick over and over again until he began to match her every movement with a strong upward thrust of his muscled stomach.

Ruth rocked and ground and groaned "Ah… Ooooh!" and speared herself onto him until it was there like a bang, until she exploded deep within. The hot fluid spread out from her inner depth and covered the large head of his prick and brought him to satisfaction again. She let herself relax and lay atop him, his still-hard rod ensconced deep into her still trembling belly. She rested her forehead on his chin.

"Ruth, I have to go now. We pull out in less than thirty minutes." Hans said, moving her gently from him.

Ruth stood and for no reason at all began crying. Her small body heaved with sobs. She could see the broken and sick Elizabeth lying on the bed, where the both of them had left her, staring straight into space. Through her tears she saw her own hopeless dilemma and she sobbed loudly. Hans encircled her with his arms and pulled her gently against the rough material of his tunic. "Please, Ruth, don't cry. You have about six months to get out of here before the Russian hordes come. You can figure out a way to do it, I know. I wish I could help you." He rubbed her back gently.

"When will you be back, Hans?" She asked through her sobbing.

"Never. I'm sure I'll not survive. So few do on the Eastern Front and it has just begun, actually. No. I'll never be back." He was in complete control of himself. He spoke slowly and sadly.

Ruth clung to him and tried to think of something to say to console him. There was nothing that she could think of that might help him because he had convinced her that he would not return. She felt as though she were clutching the last bit of sanity to her and when he moved away from her she felt a loss whose vastness engulfed her entirely. She lay down on the bed alongside Elizabeth and clung to the girl fiercely.

"Ruth," Hans said, standing over the bed and smiling down at the two girls, "Take care of her – and of yourself. I'll never forget you. Never." He wiped a tear from his cheek with the back of his hand then turned and walked to the door. He stopped there and smiled crookedly at Ruth then waved his hand in farewell before disappearing into the blackness of the night.

Ruth held onto the softness of Elizabeth and tried to think. It was almost impossible. She realized that she had not one thought in her head about how to help herself, let alone look after the girl next to her. Her future seemed so bleak and hopeless that she began to cry without sounds. Deep in the recesses of her soul she expurged a blackness, a void, that had been dormant there. She realized that if she were to survive that it would be her own doing, that she alone could help herself. She tried to keep command of that thought until she fell asleep.

The days at Kamp East became harder and harder for Ruth. She had to look after Elizabeth, at best a full-time job, her days began early at roll call. Standing in the cold frosty morning air, she could see dust in wave after wave on the horizon. This meant only one thing to Ruth: there was another large detachment of soldiers coming to camp. The soldiers were either coming from the Eastern Front or heading there.

Ruth had difficulty deciding which was worse – the ones going to war or the ones coming back from it. The ones returning were in a sad state: they had been starved, frozen, beaten and at times some of their friends had been murdered by their own troops, the hated SS. They were missing eyes, limbs, and other parts of their bodies. They brought back tales of the Eastern Front that would have been impossible for her to believe if she had not heard them repeatedly from the original sources.

The ones coming from the FATHERLAND were just as bad, however. Ruth supposed that they did manage to talk to and socialize with the soldiers who were returning although she knew that the powers in charge tried to prevent such social intercourse. They were so shaken mentally by the appearance of those returning that they were often as depraved as the others. Fear of the unknown was disabling to many of them.

Ruth had to deal with both groups and she never hesitated to help her own cause along. She passed on the tales of horror to those going to the Eastern Front and made up a few of her own for those returning from there. She rather enjoyed doing this and felt that she was in some small measure getting her revenge upon the whole of Germany.

The food supply at the Kamp became less and less plentiful. The vehicles were used for the transport of men, not supplies. It required five coupons a day for Ruth's meals, which were actually insufficient for survival, and also five for Elizabeth. Ruth hit upon a plan shortly after Hans left, about three months after, when the coupons he had left began to run out.

She decided to devote herself entirely to looking after Elizabeth. As sick as the girl was she was the only thing in the world for whom Ruth felt love. So she permitted Elizabeth to earn the major amount of their food coupons. It was a simple plan, actually, that Ruth had worked out.

Ruth knew that she was aging. She often looked at herself in the mirror and saw reflected there a grown woman, not a child of seventeen. It never failed to startle her when she saw herself. The first time she had cried. The second time she had shrugged it off and smiled at her reflection. She realized that her mental process had grown amazingly beyond her physical age. All the romantic notions had long since fled from her mind. She was concerned with day to day survival for herself and for Elizabeth. And, she thought, she often had to act as mother for men much older than she.

Ruth would often answer the door and receive clients at the rate of ten a day. Never did a single soldier come. Two or three soldiers would arrive there with yellow coupons clasped firmly in their grip. She would take the coupons from their dirty hands, then put them carefully away so that they would not be able to steal them back. Then she would direct them to Elizabeth's bed, often she had misgivings about her "plan". It made her feel guilty but she could not decide of another way out of their dilemma.

When Ruth would feel guilty about what she was doing, she had only to remind herself that Elizabeth seemed near death half the time and the only time she was alive was when she had a man with her. Ruth had to lead her from one place to another, had to force her to eat and do other things to keep herself clean. It was only when Elizabeth was being fucked that she was happy. Then she was alive. Then she was happy. Then she would smile. Her white arms and legs would encircle some dirty, battle-worn soldier and she would pull forcefully at him as though she were trying to draw the whole of him into herself.

Ruth did not kid herself for a moment. The very word psychology would have had little meaning for her. But she knew that whatever was wrong with Elizabeth was partially the girl's own doing. She felt that the girl was purposely blocking out the horror of things about her. And she knew that her managing of their affairs somehow saved Elizabeth. The girl did become happy and alive every day – sometimes several times a day – and even if momentarily she did return to the world of the living.