Chapter 3

Hilda had never been cuffed and gagged before, but then neither had she been in a limousine. The Mercedes was big and fast and driven by a uniformed soldier who never looked round to see who had got into the back of the car. The Obergruppenfuhrer sat next to Hilda in the back and as he relaxed, he peeled off his thin black leather gloves as the car sped through the streets and out in the country. After a few moments the man spoke, in German, asking his prisoner if she understood what he was saying.

Hilda, who had been taught the language at school as all children were since the occupation, nodded. She had got an award for being the best German speaker at her school, and was proud of her achievement.

“Good,” said Lehmann, in English. “Happily my driver doesn’t, so we will converse in your native language.”

Hilda nodded again as the man continued: “You will be wondering why I have taken you from your mother and your job, and indeed where we are going. If you are as bright as I think you are, you will be full of questions; some relevant, others not. I will allow you some crucial information. To begin with, Hilda Timson, I wish you to be silent for you are about to be near people who I would prefer did not ask you questions. However careful people are when answering, words slip out and my name would be one of them inevitably. Right now I am taking you to an airfield. There a plane is waiting to fly you to Germany. You will be cuffed and gagged throughout the journey. As the plane is one of our new aircraft powered by the jet engine our scientists have invented, the journey will not be long, so you will not starve.

“On the plane will be other people. Some will be several women like yourself, in as much as they will be silent and restrained. They may be older, or younger. It is no concern of yours. Nor as it happens, of mine. You are my sole business in this. Once the plane touches down in Germany a representative of mine will take you to a house of mine, close to Berlin. There you will be kept as my slave.”

Hilda’s eyes widened and she stared at the man next to her. She made a small noise into her gag.

Lehmann smiled at the sound of panic in the girl’s throat before he went on. “All the females on this special flight are going to be slaves for other high-ranking German officers and officials, back in Germany. Taking what we want from the countries we occupy is a perk of the job, as you English would say. I have already taken a girl from another town in the region of England I control and she will be waiting for you to join her. In the dungeons of my private house.” The man paused. “The fact she is waiting for you should give you some hope: she is in a position to meet you, so being a slave may be demanding but not fatal. Her name was, I believe, Margaret but I have renamed her Marlene. Fortunately, you have a good German name—very good foresight on the part of your mother—so you will not be given a new name.”

Hilda felt angry and helpless. She wanted to be with her mother and she wanted her father to come home. She wanted an end to the Germans being in her country. She wanted above all to be free and tell this arrogant man exactly what she thought of him and his kind.

The Obergruppenfuhrer must have picked up some of this resentment because he spoke up. “I sense, my child, you wish to hurl abuse at me, to tell me how much you hate the German people and what we have achieved. You will hate me personally, and everything I represent. But understand this: you fought, and you lost. The British are a warrior race and they fought hard and well, but we are the superior race. It was our destiny to win. It was only a matter of time before we prevailed. The difficulties the English and the Scots and the Welsh have faced over the past few years have been because of your collective reluctance to embrace our philosophy, to welcome our ways, become like us. France—Paris in particular—learned swiftly to accept us in charge. That capital is now brightly lit, full of clubs and restaurants and well-stocked shops. They did not resist us. But what of your world? Many of your towns are like shells, parts of London are almost ruined beyond repair, because you thought you could stop us. The French did not want the Arc de Triomphe to be peppered with bullet holes; your Tower of London is half blown away. The French may still revel in Versailles, while Buckingham Palace is now a prison. You see, everything has a price, every action brings a reaction. The British lost but did not do it as we would have wished, with grace and common sense. It is such a shame for you are more the same people as ourselves, far more than the French are. It was illogical for us to be enemies but like a family torn apart by a dispute, the lingering damage is that much greater after the fighting.”

Hilda snorted, but it was true. The British had not surrendered easily. Nor would she, though right now she was in no position to argue.

Lehmann put his hand on the shoulder of the girl, and she flinched. “Please be calm, Hilda. There is nothing you can do about what is about to happen to you, other than accept it as well as you can. You are going to be put in my home as my slave, and there may be others joining you in due course. It is a large building, quite secure, and can house you and more comfortably. Or uncomfortably, as I or see fit. However, I have to find people who I like and whose circumstances I can use. You and your mother qualified. You as slave, her as an informer. You should be reassured though that she will not be harmed by me or anyone I command. Your father—if he is your biological father—is out of my reach so I cannot help there. As best you can please relax for now. Your journey to a new life is under way. It will not be easy at times. At my home I have my mother to look after my acquisitions who is very strict for my slaves, but she is keeping them for me until my tour of duty in England is over. At some point I will be replaced and be able to go home to Germany. To my house, and my slaves, ready to please me.”

Then the man did something Hilda didn’t expect. He reached to the girl’s waist and began undoing the laces and hooks on the side of her corset, talking as he did so. “You are a young woman, barely more than child, and I do not think you need such a garment on you. I will remove it and free you from its embrace.”

When Hilda shook her head at his actions the German laughed. “You think this protects you from me? You are mistaken. But if I wish, when I am with you in Germany, I will find a proper and perhaps more restrictive corset for you to wear. It may be amusing to have you clad in something heavier and tighter. We shall see, my little Hilda.” The corset came away and the Obergruppenfuhrer wound down the window before throwing it out on to the side of the road. “A vagrant may find it and claim it. A male vagrant, for one supposes even some of them nurse a desire to dress as a woman.”

Behind her back, Hilda clenched her fists and wished they were free so she could swing a punch at the Nazi bastard. To her surprise, though perhaps not to her entire surprise, the man reached round her and his hand cradled her small breast. As she was wearing just a simple white slip that covered her little tits as the boys at school called them, there was little to interfere with the man’s grip. He squeezed gently and then whispered: “These are too small. I doubt they will grow much as your mother is not over-endowed in her bust. But I like some shape to my women. I will send word to my mother that you should be given bigger breasts.”