Somewhere I read another story similar to this. I can't find it to give proper acknowledgement. It may have come from Powerone. I can't find it. Anyway, the other story was filled with violence; beating and every kind of sexual punishment you could put a woman through. I am not much better, but I have tried to put a different slant on a similar story about a woman captured during World War II. If another writer emails me that they had the original idea, I will pass it on somehow
I also have been given excellent advice on how to improve my stories; rewrite. Somehow, I can't wait to post something as soon as I'm finished. If enough people email me that they like the story, I will consider re-writing it.
Gabriella had led a privileged life. She had been raised in France by her parents who had been diplomats from Denmark. Before the war had started, he had been called back to Denmark. They had moved back to Helsingor, which was right across the channel from Helsingborg, in Sweden.
As a child, Gabby would stand on the hills along the coast and wonder wistfully what life across the channel would be like. She could see the beautiful buildings along the coast and the beautiful boats going up and down between their two countries.
Her husband's family had a generous sized villa overlooking the shore and a wonderful view of the city across from them. Gabby loved taking her young daughter, Genevieve, to the shore to play in the cold water. Genevieve was a young woman now, almost fifteen and her interests had changed. She was more interested in learning to dance like her mother. Gabriella had been trained in ballet during her early years in France.
Things had changed now. The threat of war was not a threat anymore. The Germans had invaded and their occupation was spreading throughout their country. Her husband had been frantically hiding all of their expensive silver, paintings, fine china and even their cars wherever he could think of. He had found a large building near their villa that had been bombed. He moved enough of the rubble to excavate a large cavern through the back of the stone foundations into a new room back into the hill. From there, he stored most of the family fortune.
They moved into a small abandoned farmhouse nearby, away from their villa. Hans had changed their expensive clothes for clothes still in the closet of the abandoned farmhouse. Genevieve was disappointed and was pretty ignorant of the danger they were in.
Hans and Gabriella saw the long line of military vehicles coming down the road. They tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Instead of standing at the side of the road and watching, they went into the back of their property where they began hoeing weeds out of the large garden.
The long line of cars stopped in front of their farmhouse. Several soldiers carrying rifles stepped out of the sidecars attached to the green motorcycles. They came around the house. They told Hans that they were low on water and needed some for several of the cars. The trucks carrying gas, water, food and ammunition were too far behind to be of much help.
Hans tried to keep his wife and daughter out of sight as he brought a bucket of water from the well and tried to be pleasant as he helped fill up one jeep. One of the commanders felt they needed more water and wanted it quicker, so he went around the house looking for more buckets when he spotted Gabriella and Genevieve in the back. Angrily, he asked them to help with the water. Terrified, the two women picked up two more buckets each and filled them with water.
The commander walked along behind them. He noticed that although they had very modest and shabby clothes, they both seemed to have very clean hands, no blisters and modest signs of being in the sun. They did not look like the ordinary peasants who worked in the fields. They struggled with the buckets of water and seemed unsure of where the water was supposed to go in the trucks.
The commander chatted with the Colonel, Klaus Von Schmidt. He expressed his skepticism of their appearance. The guards split the family up, taking Genevieve into the back yard, Hans on the other side of the convoy, and Gabriella over to the front porch. An interrogator went with each one, and asked them questions; what kind of work they did; where they lived; what their background was; things about farms, etc.
When they were all brought back to the front porch, the interrogators spoke briefly in German about what they were told. Commander Von Schmidt knew they were lying, and could have them killed. They were probably part of the resistance. He told Hans and Gabriella that they were taking their daughter, Genevieve to their temporary headquarters, Kronborg Castle. They needed a few servants for breakfast, dinner and housework.
"Please, Commander, please don't take her. She is our only daughter. We have heard about what soldiers away from home can be like. Please don't take her there. I am begging you." She pleaded as she dropped to her knees in front of him.
The commander was quiet. "You shouldn't have lied to us. I can have you both killed. I need some time to think about it. We will be having supper in a few hours. Why don't you and your husband come over to the Castle for supper tonight while I think about it? Perhaps you can talk me out of it." The commander smiled. Hans and Gabriella didn't like the smile, but did not see any way out of it.
The convoy headed on down the road to the Kronborg Castle, which they had appropriated for their headquarters.
"We need to make a run for it." Hans told his wife. "I don't think so, Hans. I think they have guards on motorcycles around our property. I think they are waiting to see what we do. Let's just humor them. Maybe we can get away with just having dinner with them. Maybe we can put some of our silverware back in our house and let them find it; maybe one of the cars. Hans didn't have a better answer. As a trial balloon, he would get out one of the sedans and drive it over to supper with it. Maybe they would take it and that would be the end of it.
They left Genevieve home that night and went to the Castle for supper. Hans wore a grey suit and tie. Gabriella wore her long reddish brown hair in a tight French braid that started at the top of her head and ended up about even with her waist. Her wire rimmed glasses framed her beautiful green eyes but could not mask the apprehension in them. Her high heeled boots which stopped just below her knees were obscured by the long silk button-front dress. Her long silk stockings were not held up by a garter belt. They were from France, and had an elastic top in a lace pattern. She didn't want to look enticing, but on the other hand she needed some balance of good looks in order to be persuasive to the Commander. She was, after all, fighting to keep her daughter away from them.
When they arrived, it was dark, and the castle was lit up like a Christmas tree. There were guards and guns everywhere. They were led up to one of the smaller ballrooms. With her left arm tucked nervously around her husbands, they were led into the ballroom where about a dozen officers were seated around a long oval table. Colonel Von Schmidt was seated at one end. He gestured for Hans and Gabriella to come over, where he offered Gabriella a seat on one side of him, and Hans at the opposite end of the table. Hans was insulted not to be offered a seat beside his wife, but knew better than to protest.
Gabriella felt naked without her husband to defend her, but also felt she was desperate and her main goal was to divert the Colonel away from her fourteen-year-old daughter. "Thank you so much for inviting us to supper tonight Colonel. I have always been intrigued with this castle and have never been here before." She said, thinking numbly of a way to initiate some kind of conversation. She felt if she initiated the conversation, she might be able to guide it somehow to plead for consideration for their family.
"You are welcome Mrs. Jorgensen. However I forgot to ask you how to dress. I like your dress, but something is missing. My men and officers have been away from home for a while now. We miss our home cooking and hospitality. I like your dress, but am somewhat of a deviant when away from home. I am curious to see how you would look without that brassier under that dress." The colonel said softly, appearing to Hans at the opposite end of the table, to be participating in innocent dinner conversation.
Gabriella was stunned. She knew there was danger of impropriety, but this was outrageous. She just sat there, looking straight ahead at the wall; refusing to admit what she had heard and unable to respond. Slowly she turned to look at him. She had not misunderstood. His eyes told her he meant business.
"Where can I go change? She whispered numbly as her cheeks turned red.
"You can't go anywhere. You can stand and do it here. Stand; unbutton your dress, take off the bra; take it over to your husband and have him keep it for you until we are done. You have a choice. You can do this or we can have our guards go get your daughter. I am certain she will be easier to manipulate than you. Which will it be?"
Gabriella almost gagged. There was no question of what she had to do, but she struggled to control her hands and legs. Her arms could not push back the chair. Her legs could not raise her. She looked down the table at her husband.
"Oh, please forgive me, Hans for what I am about to do." She said to herself as she pushed back her chair with her knees. She didn't know which was more humiliating; knowing what she was about to do, or thinking that her husband was seeing her do this as if on her own accord.
.... There is more of this story ...