Chapter 9

By this time six of the eight roommates had been on the receiving end of Frank's bare-hand-on-bare-bottom discipline. As a result, there were six very attractive young women who had learned at first hand, so to speak, of the erotic connotations of good old-fashioned spanking. This, coupled with the acute wartime manpower shortage, resulted in considerable competition for Frank's unique services, and he found himself enjoying one heated bedroom adventure after another.

He was so occupied, in fact, that there were times when he almost lost sight of his basic mission. The party that he and Elizabeth were trying to arrange for Jean was proving difficult to arrange. Jean, whom they were now sure was Erica in disguise, was becoming more wary with each passing day, and the quasi-Lesbian relationship Elizabeth had developed with her was beginning to taper off. Moreover, Jean was spending long hours away from the apartment, and efforts to trail her always seemed to meet with frustration.

However, he was not too concerned about the matter. He had notified the appropriate authorities of his suspicions about Jean, and was sure that she was being fed only harmless or inaccurate information. When the invasion of Normandy went off without a hitch in June of 1944, he relaxed on the assumption that no Nazi spy would be able to accomplish a great deal after that. Yet he found himself with a lingering curiosity to find out if Jean was really Erica Schmidt, the young German girl with whom he had had an affair in what now seemed the distant past. He soon had his answer.

One afternoon following a pleasant spanking and sex session with one of the girls, he decided to take a brief nap. It was quite warm and he was still naked as he stretched out on the bed and drifted off to sleep. After what seemed like several hours a slight noise awakened him. As he drowsily came to his senses, he suddenly realized that he was tied to the bed!!

"What the..." he cried out, instantly becoming fully awake. He was tied face down by the wrists and elbows in a spread-eagle position. As he yanked futilely at the ropes that held him prisoner, he became aware that someone was standing at the foot of the bed. Erica!

"So we meet again!" she told him, deliberately speaking with a chopped German accent.

"I don't understand, Jean," Frank spoke quickly, pretending not to recognize her. "What is this? Some kind of game?"

"Some kind of game, ja?" she taunted, stepping around to the side of the bed where he could see her easier.

Frank's heart skipped a beat when he saw the gun in her hand, and his wrists pulled futilely at the ropes that held him to the bed.

"Some kind of a game, ja?" she repeated, once again deliberately speaking in a German accent.

"I still don't understand," Frank continued to feign ignorance.

"You know who I am!" Erica told him. "When you first came here, I didn't think you were after me. But then the other day I found out that someone had tipped them off about me, and they've been giving me useless information for months. And that could only have been you!" She brandished the gun in a threatening manner as she spoke.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Frank persisted. Trying not to be obvious about it, he kept working to loosen the ropes at his wrists. However, they had been tied quite tightly and the task seemed hopeless. Knowing that Erica had no intention of letting him escape alive, Frank felt his hopes sinking.

"But it was really your girlfriend who gave you away," Erica went on.

"Girlfriend? What girlfriend?" Frank replied, trying to conceal his rising sense of terror.

"You know who," Erica replied contemptuously. "Elizabeth! That fake Lesbian you've had sniffing after me for months! She got a little careless talking to some of the other girls, and I put two and two together!"

Becoming more desperate, Frank jerked against the bonds that held him helpless. "Look, Erica," he protested, instantly realizing his mistake.

"Ah, so you do know my name!" she flashed a knowing smile at him.

"Okay, Erica," he spoke breathlessly and quickly. "Don't get yourself involved in a murder. The war's almost over. If you turned yourself in now, the worst you'd get would be a few months in prison."

"That's what you say!" she spoke derisively, once again brandishing the gun in a manner that made Frank flinch. "No, my friend, I'm afraid I can't let you out of here alive. Others only suspect who I am, but you know."

Frank gulped and tried to think quickly, but fear was beginning to paralyze his mind. His entire body felt cold and numb.

"But first there's something else I'm going to do," she spoke slowly with an undertone of pleased expectation in her voice.

What? Frank wondered but could not bring himself to ask. He relaxed slightly when he saw Erica put the gun on the nightstand. She was looking at him steadily and with amused pleasure, like a cat who had cornered a mouse.

"First, I'm going to punish you!" she told him.

Frank tensed as he saw her unbuckling the wide leather belt at her waist. "Don't!" he burst out impulsively.

"How the tables have turned!" she taunted, removing the belt and caressing it through her hands in a manner designed to increase his anticipation. "The disciplinarian gets disciplined!"

A cruel look in her eye, she raised the leather belt high over her head. Cringing in expectation of the blow, Frank lay frozen on the bed with his teeth clenched, determined not to show any reaction to the pain that he was about to endure.

Thwack!

The wide belt cut savagely across his back.

"Uhh!" Frank gasped. The air seemed to go right out of his chest, and he felt the fiery pain of the belt starting to penetrate. His arms and legs both jerked reflexively and were abruptly stopped by the bonds at his wrists and ankles.

"How do you like that?" Erica asked with a laugh.

Frank deliberately refrained from answering.

"Oh, I'll have you begging by the time I'm through," Erica assured him.

Once again the belt sliced across his back, and Frank's entire body jerked with the sudden jolt of pain.

"Take that!" Erica told him. "And that!"

Once again the belt cut unmercifully across his back, sending waves of pain racing through his body. But with the anguish there came a slight ray of hope. As his body jerked against the ropes, he felt the rope at his right wrist loosen slightly. I must work it loose, he told himself, while Erica is distracted with her whipping activities.

Whack!

Once again the belt flicked across his bare back with a lick of fire.

"Ow!" Frank gasped involuntarily, his entire body twitching with an involuntary reflex to the sharp stab of pain.

"How's that feel?" Erica asked. A little breathless, she was obviously enjoying the chance to get even with him. Without waiting for a reply, she drew the belt back and lashed it downward against his exposed buttocks.

Whack!

The sleek leather cut painfully across his bare flesh.

"Ow!" Frank gasped, instinctively twisting in an effort to avoid the full effect of the blow. At the same time he kept yanking at the rope at his right wrist, and could feel it starting to give.

"Take that! And that!" Erica told him, a vengeful look on her face. "It's about time you found out what it feels like!"

His vindictive former pupil began lashing at his bare hips and upper thighs with the belt. The smooth, supple leather coiled about the curves of his body with burning strokes that cut in deeply. The pain quickly became quite intense and Frank felt himself desperately clenching his teeth and fighting back tears that threatened to blind his vision. But at the same time he could feel the rope at his right wrist becoming loose.

"Go ahead! Whip me, you little bitch!" Frank told her to distract her while he worked his wrist free.

Whack! Whack!

Erica continued applying the belt at various angles, and the pain was becoming almost too unbearable. From shoulder to thigh, Frank's body ached from the effects of the vindictive whipping. But at last his wrist was free and he was waiting for Erica to get close enough for him to grab. In the meantime there was nothing he could do but absorb the punishment she was administering.

"You will die in agony!" she told him with a tone of obvious satisfaction in her voice.

"There!" Frank cried out as he suddenly grabbed her wrist in a tight vise and desperately held on.

"Eeek!" Erica screamed in surprise. "Bastard! Son-of-a- bitch!" With that she lapsed into a torrent of her native German.

As the angry young woman flailed at him with the belt, Frank pulled her toward him so that he could get her under control. Despite her resistance Erica came down on the bed on top of him in a wild tangle of arms and legs. Abandoning the belt she clawed furiously at him with her long fingernails and kicked at him with her high-heeled shoes.

"You little bitch!" Frank exclaimed as he fought to control the wildly struggling young woman.

"Bastard! Schwein!" Erica kept yelling at him in an abusive fashion, but most of what she said was in German.

The two of them struggled wildly on the bed, and Frank's greater strength gradually began to prevail despite the handicap he was under. He slowly twisted Erica's wrist behind her back and began pulling it up short. Developing his strategy as he went along, he decided to try to pin her body under his while he tried to untie his other wrist.

"Stop! You're breaking my arm!" Erica pleaded, the resistance suddenly going out of her.

"Okay, but start untying my wrist with your other hand!" he told her, keeping an iron grip on her right wrist.

Crying with frustration and discomfort, the young woman haplessly untied his left wrist.

"Now my ankles!" Frank told her.

He kept a firm grip on her wrist as she twisted around to untie his ankles. As she did so, her dark skirt rode up over the tops of her black stockings, providing an intriguing glimpse of bare white thigh and black garter belt suspenders. In a few moments Frank's wrists were free, and he twisted into a sitting position with Erica across his lap, her stockinged legs swinging back and forth.

"Nein! Nein!" she protested, struggling halfheartedly.

"Ja! Ja!" Frank mocked her, holding her firmly in position with one hand and he worked her skirt up with the other.

In a moment Erica's stocking-clad legs, ivory white thighs, black garter belt and panties were on full view. The panties came down slowly to reveal her beautiful, shimmering buttocks. The two lush pink white mounds quivered like bowls of jelly as Frank worked the panties all the way down her legs and off her feet.

"Please!" Erica protested. "You have no right to do this! Please!"

After what he had just endured from her belt, Frank was in no mood to be lenient. "You're going to get what's coming to you, you little Nazi!" he told her in an angry voice. As he spoke he raised his right hand high in the air.

Splat!

Frank's hand crashed noisily against Erica's bare bottom, landing squarely across the crevice and flattening both cheeks.

"Oww!" Erica screamed, her stockinged legs flailing upward and her body bucking up wildly on his lap. "Don't! Stop! You have no right!"