Eric Jurgens - Nazi joy camp

Ruth started to close the door without even saying to him that he had arrived during the rest period. Before she could open her mouth she heard his voice – low and familiar and pleading. She couldn't remember the person the voice belonged to, but he seemed familiar to her. She hesitated for a second, trying to drag up from the depths of her memory a face to match the voice since the one that was before her seemed mutilated beyond recognition. He took the opportunity offered by her hesitation and pushed past her into the cabin.

Elizabeth took one look at him and screamed. Ruth was furious. "Get out!" She yelled, "This is our rest time. Out or I'll call the police." She had no intention of calling the police but the threat of doing so had rid her of unwanted client a couple of times before.

The scarred apparition turned and smiled at her crookedly, then: "Ruth? Don't you remember me?"

Ruth was sure she was going to faint. She clutched the edge of the door for support. "Kurt?" She whispered.

"Yes, Kurt," he replied, sitting down on her bed.

Ruth went to him in a flash. She fell sobbing into his waiting arms. She clung to him with all her might. He stroked and soothed her with his left arm and said, over and over, "Don't cry. Please don't cry. Everything's going to be alright. Ruth, come on now, stop it." He continued, talking and massaging and calming her until she became quiet.

After a while he pushed her gently away from him and stood up. "Look, Ruth, I'm not as bad as I look actually," he said then laughed softly. He removed his torn and scarred tunic and asked the astonished Ruth to help him. Together they undid the tape that held his arm snug against his body. He had two arms, both of which he used to hold Ruth's trembling body his as she laughed and cried with relief. He then crossed the room to the small mirror and carefully removed the makeup that had been applied days earlier to make a scar. Ruth watched in fascination.

"If I can just have a bath. I'll be myself again," he told her, smiling the whole width of his dirty face, his teeth gleaming white in contrast with his soiled skin.

"Oh, Kurt," Ruth cried out, "you're still not hurt – I mean you're just you!"

"Yes. I've had a hell of a time getting here, Ruth. But I told you I'd return. Didn't I? I meant it. This war is a pot of shit and we're losing the whole thing. All of it. Just over the hill the Russians are coming. I just planned a little escape and – well, here I am." He laughed at his own success.

"Kurt, Kurt, I can't believe it. Nothing's wrong with you! Nothing!" Ruth cried out with elation.

"Yes there is. I'm filthy." He laughed.

"Kurt?" a voice asked wonderingly from Elizabeth's bed. Ruth and Kurt turned to look at Elizabeth. Ruth had completely forgotten about her. Kurt smiled broadly and strode to her bed. He reached out his hand to her but she drew back in alarm. "Elizabeth?" Kurt asked, easing himself down onto her bed. "It's me, Kurt. I came back," he said gently.

Elizabeth ignored him and whimpered, "Ruth, Ruth."

Ruth went swiftly to Elizabeth and took her in her arms. "It's all right, Elizabeth. It is Kurt. Do you remember him? Of course you do, Elizabeth."

The frightened girl looked around Ruth's head at the smiling boy. Her face broke into a tentative grin, then a wider one. "Yes, I remember. I think. Kurt? Kurt?" she said, testing the name for the sound of it.

"How did you do it, Kurt?" Elizabeth asked.

"I'll tell you why and how. It's hopeless, Ruth. I was in a forward company and it was over-run by the Russians and only one other person escaped besides me. My friend. They killed all the wounded and dying men. We watched from an exploded bunker. They didn't come in after us for some reason and when they withdrew we took off. We made it back to our own lines and a Kapitan tried to force us to go back but I wouldn't do it. I knew that if I ever did I'd never come back alive. So, my friend and I helped each other to dress so that we looked injured and unable to fight. We forged ourselves some papers and made our way back to here. I had no idea you'd be here. But you see, Ruth, there are so many deserters that unless you're injured, they just arrest you and lock you up in a box car and ship you back. That's all. They don't even have rifles to give the men. They have to pull them out of the hands of the dead soldiers." Kurt stopped talking and his eyes took on a far away haunted look.

Then, remembering where he was, he continued. "It took a long time to get back here. Over a month. The Russians are right behind us. They're just over the forward hill. You should be able to hear the sound of fire within a couple of days. We all have to get the hell out of here."

"Will you take us, Kurt?" Ruth asked.

"Yes. But – we'll have to work out something about papers. I don't know how…"

"I have some!" Ruth exclaimed. She jumped up from the bed and went to the place where she had hidden her papers stolen from the girl at the SS Kamp. She returned with then to the bed and held them out to Kurt. "But… we don't have any for Elizabeth."

"We'll manage," Kurt assured her. "How did you get these?" He wanted to know.

Ruth told him about the papers and all about her treatment by Nurse Hilde since her return. She did not mention the truck driver in front of Elizabeth because she was unsure what her reaction would be. Kurt listened patiently, then smiled and said, "You mean to tell me that bitch is still here? The very one who had me sent to the Eastern Front?"

"Yes. She's mean, Kurt. She does everything she can to make life miserable for me… for us."

"Well, we'll see about her later. We have to plan on a way out of here. Soon. Within the next day. Can I have a bath? Please?" He smiled.

"Of course," Ruth told him. Then to Elizabeth, "Get up and let's give Kurt a bath, Elizabeth. He's going to help us escape from here." She took the girl's hand and pulled her out of bed. She noticed that Kurt's eyes roamed hungrily over Elizabeth's body.

The two girls prepared the bath while Kurt looked on. Ruth said, "Come on, Kurt." She curtsied deeply, "Your bath is ready, Sir." Both girls giggled.

Kurt stood and removed his filthy undershirt, then his trousers. He smiled weakly and dropped his shorts. Ruth couldn't believe it. His prick was just as she had remembered it, long and thick and white and purple headed. She cried out, softly, when it was exposed to full view.

Kurt seemed to have become shy. It was almost as though he was trying to cover his dangling sex with his hands as he walked to the prepared tub and eased himself into it with a sigh. Both girls recovered themselves and set to work on him. In short order he was gleaming clean, his hair restored to his original blondness and his body red from all the rubbing and attention it had received. He stood and the girls dried him front and back. Ruth giggled when she took his large prick in her hands to massage it dry on the towel. It throbbed gently in her small hands. She lowered her eyes to keep Kurt from seeing her face, which she knew was glowing red.

Kurt walked to the bed, looked at it, then jumped in.

Kurt reached out his arms for Ruth. She fell into them willingly, finding his mouth with her own before her body rested on his. He clutched her to him and kissed her long and passionately. Ruth's body shuddered. He was the first boy or man she had ever had; the memory of his second and last time with her burned in her memory. It was just as if there had been no one else between that time and this for Ruth. "Uum… umm," she purred as he kissed her, exploring his once familiar body with her hands just as he was doing hers.

"What about me," Elizabeth whined, standing above the bed and looking down at them.

Ruth laughed when she looked up and saw the girl standing there. She had completely forgotten about her. She looked at Kurt for confirmation before she spoke and he, seeming to know what she was going to say, nodded his agreement.