WARNING: Before you read this story. Know that at times it may be a little graphic and might trigger some emotions. I am writing this story as a romance, but I want to keep the details true to history. I feel as it was brought to my attention, that I should give you a fair waning. Nazi Edward/Bella.
If you are wondering about my other stories… Well I have some work to do with them. I want to make them all human. So I will have to fix them, but for now this is my new story.
My name is Isabella, and I am of a cursed race. The year is 2060 and because the Germans succeeded in winning WWII I was born into a world of slavery. The Aryan race has taken over and has made the world just like them. Anyone devoid of Aryan features and decent, are sold as slaves or put to work in factory camps. I was not fortunate enough to be born in the superior race. For this reason, I was sent to the camp of Alderney in the Channel Islands. It is strictly a labor camp where I will no doubt spend the rest of my life.
The cruelty of the camp is beyond words. Words cannot describe the pain and horror we face each day. Everyone is sick. Everyone has something they're suffering from. There is little to no food. Occasionally scraps from the privileged are thrown to us. Rations of water are sometimes passed around, but many drink more than their portion, leaving very little for others.
There are no adequate restrooms, so most go on the ground. The moto is survival of the fittest. Many have lost their drive and dignity in life. At night some go to sleep with the thought of suicide, and sadly some never wake again.
When we were first transferred to this new work camp, we all seemed to lean on and encourage each other. Now we look at each other with suspicious eyes wondering when the other will die so their food and clothing will be up for grabs. The nights are freezing cold. They are filled with coughs, and crying until they subside from sleep or death.
The days are worse than the nights. They are full of hard labor. Whatever the guards have us doing that day. Separating gold and silver jewelry, shining boots, mending or ironing uniforms, making weapons by way of assembly lines, the list is endless. The only happy time we have is when the guards provide us with small brakes where we get a small cup of soup and a ration of water. Sometimes a piece of bread.
We also go on marches during the day. Usually for one of two reasons. The first is to determine the status of our health. We are stripped and told to run the terrain, no matter the weather. During the rainy seasons, our feet end up sticking in sloshes of mud holes while our bodies shiver. Some of the women give out and are done away with if they do not regain their strength in a matter of minutes. I suppose the saddest thing is that we all try to out-do each other. It's important to stay in front to stay alive.
The other reason, and surly the most rare, we go on marches is if an indoor positon has become available. Positions such as a maid, a waitress, or even a cook if you had the skills. However it was rare that we at the camps were chosen to work indoors. We were the lowest of the lowest. We were dirty, worn out, and since most of us knew nothing of the luxuries and services required of house slaves, we were considered unfit to serve most of the time.
For most though, it was a dream to be chosen. To be taken away from this horrid place. But not for me. The only thing I could think of that would be worse than staying here was to be bought by a spoiled Admiral who firmly believed in the torture of others not of his race. Here in the labor camp, I do the pitiful work I'm assigned to do, but at the end of the day I get to sit in my small corner under a large tent by myself. I don't have to bow down to someone every minute of my life. I would rather stay here than to have to care for the petty needs of a German whom are to be treated as the Gods of our lives. I would not want to relinquish the shred of dignity I had left to them.
I pulled my blanket close to my body as a harsh icy wind swept through the flimsy tent. My teeth chattered as I sniffed do to my runny nose. My eyes watered a little, my feet were frozen, and my body shivered uncontrollably. I wished they would call us into the stone building for work. At least there I would be safe from the wind.
I crawled over to the entrance of the tent, poked my head out, and looked up at the sky. The dark grey color showed that a rainstorm would soon be approaching. I gritted my teeth as I let out a huff. The rains were always the worst to endure. Everyone would push and shove for a place away from the rain inside the tent. They yelled and fought for the few blankets that the guards provided us with. I believe the guards purposely provided us with only a few blankets so that we would fight each other for them.
I heard a couple of moans from a few women as they struggled to keep warm from the wind. Some scrambled over to me to take my blanket to which I pushed them away. As I said before the rule was survival of the fittest.
Then suddenly my heart jumped at the loud shout of a guard. "To work!" he said.
'Finally,' I thought to myself, we get to go inside. We all stumbled over each other in a rush to get out of the cold tent and into an enclosed area. I let out a small whimper, as I felt a woman pull me by my hair and shove me back as she climbed over me to get out first. Others didn't care to help me up, they simply crawled over top of me stepping on my hands and my stomach. I pushed a few of them off, but they didn't care about morals anymore.
I stood shakily, my body shivering, my lips dry and chapped. I ran my hands through my tangled hair and rubbed my sore arms. 'Curse these beasts!' They run like dogs to a feeding and care not how they get there.
I did not always have the mentality of survival of the fittest. It was something I acquired after living here. It was the only way to keep living. When I was little, I grew up in a wealthy Admiral's home. He was kind, as long as I stayed out of the way, and did my duties. When he suddenly died of a heart attack, I was to be sold to another, but ended up being sent to a work camp. Since then I have been transferred from work camp to work camp.
I stumbled out in my filthy tattered striped clothing. My hair fell messily around my shoulders and my eyes squinted as a burst of ice wind swept across my face. I sniffed and ran my sleeve across my runny nose.
My feet staggered across the dry plane to the large stone building. When I arrived at the entrance there were two guards holding their fedoras in the sides of their arms talking in a jolly manner. As if the abnormal cruelty of humans was an acceptable way of life. Their eyes suddenly landed on me with slight confusion. They scanned me for a moment and then smiled at each other to continue their conversation in German. I did not understand German, but I understood short commands. The guards did not bother speaking to us unless they were barking short orders our way.
I was about to continue my hobble inside when I heard the irking sound of a chuckle. "Looks like this one should be taught a lesson in the way of getting to work with speed. Sauntering is not acceptable," the voice said. I turned around to where I heard the voice emanating from. There stood a third man, a man that I had never seen before. He was dressed perfectly in General's suit which in turn was perfectly smoothed over his body without a single wrinkle. His fedora was perfectly situated on his silky blond hair while his sapphire eyes peeked at me from beneath it. I watched as a large puff of smoke escaped through his half parted lips and glided across my face.
I scrunched my face in disgust. My eyes narrowed a little at his rude remark and attempt to make trouble for me. Most likely wanting to see me punished as a form of entertainment. When another burst of wind brushed across us I could smell his expensive cologne, which made me sick to my stomach. Not that it was not a pleasant smell, but the thought of it coming from him made me hate it. Although I had only just met this man, I already despised him for his arrogant air, and the way he held his head in a superior manner.
Sad to say, when the wind blew it also caught my smell as well, which was not as appeasing as his. He looked at me for a moment and then wrinkled his nose in disgust as his eyes traveled over my body. I knew I smelled, we only got to wash once a month.
He pulled out a handkerchief and held it to his nose as he stepped back. "You should at least hose these workers down every once and a while," he said looking at the guards.
They half laughed. "What a waste of good water," one responded.
I would think he would show some understanding considering the fact that he knew we were not privileged enough to receive proper bathing.
His arrogance made me hot on the inside and I gave him a sly glare to which only he seemed to notice. He seemed taken by surprise and slightly entertained that I would glare so freely at him. A smirk tugged on the sides of his lips.
I had no idea why he was here, but I hoped he would not be staying long.
I watched as he put his cigar to his lips, inhaled deeply and let out a long trail smoke in my direction again. Quickly I held my breath and turned my head in the other direction.
When the smoke had dissipated I turned my head back in his direction with an even more obvious glare. I swatted the smoke away violently, accidently hitting him in the process, to which he instantly backed away from in repulsion.
"You rat," he shouted in his heavy German accent.
"You worthless wench! You dare lay your filthy hands on him." The guards yelled as they pulled me outside the stone building. All the women that had been working had stopped to look at the commotion. I thought, this was my end as I saw one of them load his pistol.
The guard threw me to the cold ground with force. I let out a small snivel as my knee scrapped against the rough soil. "We will not tolerate such behavior. On your knees!" He shouted.
Quickly I stumbled up to my knees and looked at the man holding the pistol at me while positioning it perfectly. I had always imagined that I would do something that would sooner or later get me killed. But now actually facing death, I felt a certain fear rise up in my heart.
Embarrassingly my legs began to shake and my palms became sweaty. I could hear the loud pounding of my heart as my chest tightened in suspense. My eyes widened a little at the sight of seeing a round black pistol aimed right between my eyes. I closed my eyes and bit my lip waiting for it all to be over. I had seen them do this before to many others. Suddenly I heard the loud shot go off, like a bomb. It was a loud bang that left my ears ringing.
I waited.
I waited to blank out and fall to the ground to my death. But I felt nothing. There was no pain.
"Death is too good for this one, don't you think?" I heard a familiar voice say in a tolerating way. Slowly my eyes opened to see the new Admiral holding the guard's arm and pistol up in the air. "Her punishment should be something that truly hurts her, not releases her."
The guard looked at him in confusion. "Sir, our orders are clear. To shoot onsite any slave that engages in unfit behavior."
"Don't lecture me John. I make and enforce the rules. I own this work camp and every salve in it belongs to me. For every healthy worker that is shot, I lose profit. That means more importing, more transportation fees, and more health inspections. I can't have new workers coming in with diseases. All these things cost money. My money. Are you going to compensate me for it? Or are you going to do your job and train these dogs to be obedient?"
The guard was quite.
"She is young, fairly healthy, able to work for many years to come, so punish her adequately," the Admiral said. "You are aware I am here for an inspection on how things are being run. It will be good for me to see how you deal with these situations. Surly you aren't killing off perfectly good workers that just need to be punished."
"Yes Sir," the guard yanked his arm from the Admiral and shielded his pistol in its holder on his belt. The guard looked down at me and then up at the dark sky.
"You!" he said grabbing my arm and lifting me up. "You will work without brakes. You will have no access to food, water, or toilet. Tonight, because of you, you and those in your sect will run 3 miles naked without rest. After that you alone will continue factory work for three hours and then be sent back to your sect without blankets or clothing. It will be a hard rain tonight, pray that you don't get sick."
My eyes widened at my future. I would rather have taken the pistol. I glanced over at the new admiral who seemed a little surprised too at the severity of the punishment. My guess was that the guard was embarrassed he had to be chastised in front of a slave. The guards always had the final say here. No one was able to stand up to them. If they wanted to shoot us, they could. But this new admiral overruled him.
The admiral's eyes locked onto mine and I saw him grin as he took another puff of his cigar. I've never felt a stronger hatred for anyone as I did this man. He turned my life even more into a hellhole.
The guard dragged me back inside the factory. "Join the line and get to work! I'll beat you myself if you even think about slowing in your work."
Over the next few hours my life was a living nightmare. I worked harder and faster than I had worked in a long time as the guards watched over me with such strictness. Today our job consisted of the shining boots and medallions. When it was time for a brake I was told to continue my work at the same pace while others were given a fifteen minute brake to eat hot soup, warm bread, along with a full cup of water.
Normally we only got five minutes if we were lucky. But never fifteen! Moreover, bread was only something special they gave us on occasion with a small sip of water, never a full cup. I guess the guards wanted to have a good report with the admiral. It was pure torture to smell the warmth of hot cheddar soup with bread. I felt my stomach grumble with a loud roar as it begged for food. I licked my dry lips wishing I too could have just a sip of water.
This life was so cruel and unfair.
Decidedly, I tried to put the thought of food out of my head and focus on my work but it was almost impossible.
Frustrated and sweating profusely, I slightly glanced up from my work for a moment only to meet the admiral's amused eyes. He was sitting up straight with one leg bent over the other across the room watching me carefully. He was slowly observing everything, including every twinge of pain and every strained expression of jealously I held for those who got to eat.
I watched as he held up a cup of iced water and took a large gulp. I cursed him under my breath and I jerked my eyes away from him and back to the boots I was currently shining.
This was torture. Why couldn't he just let me have the pistol!
The admiral scooted out of his chair, and walked over to the rack of already shinned boots. He leaned forward and examined them. Then he looked over the medals and rubbed his fingers across them. He called one of the guards over and showed them something he disagreed with.
'What could he possibly have to complain about?' I thought to myself. The guards nodded to him, picked up a few medals and set them on my work pile to be redone. I gritted my teeth and bit my bottom lip in frustration. My heart raced as I could hear the admiral's boots approaching me. I did my best to keep my eyes on my work. He circled me a few times and then stopped to unnervingly watch over my shoulder at my work.
He didn't say anything, just nodded and walked away.
By the time everyone was working again, everybody but me looked refreshed and rested. My arms ached for a rest and my stomach growled for a just a crumb of bread. Everyone was in a better mood now that they had eaten what to us was a large meal. Except for me, of course. I was in a far worse mood than ever. I found myself glaring at those who worked next to me, jealous of the smell of food still on their clothes.
After another few hours of work the group was given a second brake while I continued to work. A second brake! That was unheard of! I watched as the women smiled at me with their mouths full of food, actually happy that I had disobeyed. This time they got hot bread with butter and another full cup of water with full rights to a small porter-potty. Normally we had to go outside and embarrassingly squat in front of the guards.
Sometimes this caused sanitary problems in the camp. I had overheard the admiral telling the guards to make sure at least four portable toilets were available. That the ground was no longer acceptable.
Oh, how I would've enjoyed a toilet right now. I felt as if my bladder was close to bursting. Forced to stand for hours and hours without a brake or rest my bladder filled quickly. I shifted my weight onto my other foot to hold it in as best I could.
I made the mistake again of looking up only to meet the eyes of the admiral again. His face held amusement as he seemed to sense my discomfort. He strode over to me. I looked down at my work so as not be accused of not working fast enough. I grasped in alarm as I felt him grip my forearm.
"Come," he said pulling me away from my work. The guards were looking with interest as he pulled me outside and positioned me in front of the portable toilet. "Go to the bathroom," he said with a hint of pleasure. I gaped at him with slight protest in my eyes. I was not a dog. "Go on, quickly do your business. You must need to by now." he said again.
I went inside, and used the facility. I did not think I would be able relieve myself, but thankfully I was allowed to. My only regret was that it came through him. He was standing outside the door when I came out. With a bored expression he told me to resume my work.
After another few hours of work the guards called that the work was done for the day. They announced that everyone, but my sect, were to report to the showers for a warm cleaning. My mouth practically dropped. This was undoubtedly a cruel revenge.
A shower? With warm water? It had been awhile since we all had gotten to wash, therefore I knew the day of a shower was approaching and hell if I should miss it!
It was the admiral's fault! Why did he choose to get involved in the first place? Normally the admirals passed through quickly, eager to get back to their lives of luxury. This admiral however seemed to be highly invested in the labor camps.
While the others headed off to the showers with wide excited smiles, the guard grabbed a clump of my hair and pulled me to the front of the assembly of workers in my sect. "I want you all to know whom you have to thank for your rewards today and also your punishments. Because of her behavior, she and those in her sect will be forced to strip and run three miles. As you may have noticed it is raining. Know that this will not make a difference, you will run at an adequate speed."
The admiral half grinned as he sat back with curiosity.
"And," the guard added, "for every person that passes this girl I will take a mile away them and add it to hers. Move! Strip where you are!" I saw the angered faces of all the women as they looked at me with pure hatred.
They all began to strip never taking their eyes off me. I could tell I would have to run fast if I didn't want to run 15 miles. No doubt they would all try to pass me.
"And when all are done running their miles you may head towards the showers as well, except you of course," he said looking at me.
My hands moved to the top of my striped shirt but then suddenly stopped. I glanced at the admiral whom I found to be sitting comfortably in his chair smoking another cigar. There his gaze was again. Watching me. My face reddened.
"Strip!" The guard yelled at me.
The admiral tipped his head to the side, and raised one brow with a sly smirk, that said I should probably do what I was told.
However my limbs felt paralyzed where they were. How could I strip in front of him? I've never cared about being naked in front of the guards but the admiral was different. I felt humiliated and embarrassed in front of him.
My pride ached at the thought of being so exposed to him. I quickly turned my back to him to change. If I was going to change, I would not do it facing his smug face. I slowly pulled my shirt over my head and let my hair fall down my bare back. I then bent over and pulled down my striped pants. Once completely nude I held my hands up to my chest in discomfort while feeling his gaze blazing on the back of me.
There was a frosty breeze just waiting to hit us as the guards swung the doors open. All of us backed way reflexively with a whimper. We could hear the sound of a hard rain hitting the muddy ground. It was a dark, cold, mud-stricken plane that lay before us.
"Start running!" The guard yelled pushing and shoving us out the door with his rifle.
I dared not look behind me at his eyes. I only put my hands by my side and started to run.
I've never been chased by a mob before, but I imagine it would be similar to what was happening to me right now. I could feel the heavy huffing and breathing of the women behind me at my heels as they struggled to get in front of me. Some reached for my hair that flapped in wind and pulled it. Not all of us had long hair but mine reached just a tad past my shoulders and to everyone that was really long.
I screamed when they would pull my hair, but I still would maintain my pace. Being younger than most of the crowd I was able to outdo most of them. Most women were in their late thirties or early forties. I was approaching age twenty-two. I passed one of the guards already tired after one mile. I felt lightheaded from lack of food. Normally if we were going to go on a march we were at least given a small piece of bread. The women got soup, bread, and water; it was no wonder they had the strength to keep up with me.
My stomach grumbled with a loud ache and I felt my feet stumble just a little before I quickly regained my footing.
We passed the guards again. Two miles. My body had become numb to the rain hitting my prickly body, but when the wind would blow I felt like giving up. However I was able to keep my hope alive in knowing I only had one more mile to go. The mud was getting thicker and harder to run in, every step seemed to stick like glue to my feet. I was approaching the end of my third mile when I felt one of the women jump on me and push me to the ground.
She pushed my face into the mud as she stepped on my back to get ahead. My head throbbed from the pain of not eating all day. "Please," I whispered to whoever would listen. I heard the pitter patter of the women run pass me splashing muddy water in my face. I lifted my mud smeared face to see every one of them pass the guard. With satisfaction the guard pointed them in the direction of the showers.
Why would they do this to me when we were all so close to the end? Perhaps it was how they were taking their revenge on me for making them run the miles in the first place. I slowly stood. The whole front of my body was covered in a thick layer of mud. I saw one of the guards laugh as he motioned me to keep going. I didn't if the guards had decided to add onto my run for all the women that passed me, but he motioned for me to keep going. Slowly I tried to run again but noticed that my body would not cooperate. Finally I made it to the guards hoping that my run was good enough and they would not make me run more. I couldn't take anymore.
My body shivered uncontrollably. Noticing how prickly my body was I covered my chest in slight embarrassment of him, who was staring at me with no emotion. 'Please,' my mind begged. 'Please, just let me go to my corner.' The guards whispered something in German and then laughed.
"What do you think?" The guards asked. After shivering in the rain for so long while staring at the ground I looked up at whom they were addressing. Him.
I cringed at the thought of this man whom I'd come to hate having control of my fate. My lips quivered as the rain seemed to be picking up with a vengeance. Each drop was like an icy drop that burned my body. It was so cold.
I tried to glare at him but I was too tired for anger at the moment. I saw his eyes take a stroll down my body and then back up to my eyes. He put his hands behind his back as he took a walk around my freezing body only to stop in front of me again. "The punishment was adequate. Let the rag return to the filth hole she lives in."
I was surprised he gave me mercy. In a degrading way, but still. I thought for sure he would make me run more, but he didn't. The guards looked at each other for a moment as they struggled not to further my punishment by having me run another mile and then work for the three hours in the factory as was the decision.
Finally their voices roared. "You heard him. Return to your tent and no more trouble out of you." Immediately I turned my bare mud stricken body away from them as I walked pathetically to my tent which was being blown every which way. The only thing that kept it on the ground were the four stakes pounded into its corners. It would be a long cold night without clothing.
I heard some of the guards laugh at my pitiful naked form, but I didn't care. All I wanted was to sit in my corner and have a moment to myself. Without lingering eyes, without mocking laughs. And most of all, without his gaze.
I crawled into a corner of my tent and I pulled my legs up to my chest shivering at the violent wind that would not cease. I looked for a blanket but realized the guards had taken them all. I could feel tears starting to form. Someone cleared their throat from behind me, which jolted me from my thoughts.
I looked behind me to see him. The admiral. His hair was dripping wet beneath his fedora as he leaned in the entrance of my dwelling. His eyes roamed around my living area with disgust. It was not much to look at. It was just a big open area on dirt, with pallets of wood, and puking holes. It reeked of piss and vomit. He then looked down and me and smiled an irritating grin. I couldn't help but notice his flawless pale skin, his golden wet hair that stuck to the sides of his forehead, and his piercing blue eyes that seem to freeze me in place. 'What did he want now?! Hadn't he done enough?!'
He let his eyes scan my position again, although it was hard to see my skin since it was all covered in wet mud that was now starting to dry in a hard uncomfortable crust. I turned my back to him. I did admit his features were very pleasing to look at, but not enough to tempt me into actually giving him any of my respect. I hated him and in this life or the next I would have my vengeance.
I heard him chuckle.
"Do you need another lesson in respect?" he said in his heavy German accent.
"No Sir," I said still facing away from him.
"Then turn around wench, you will not show your back to me. Or I will break it."
I bit my lip and turned around staring at him with irritation.
"Have you no shame? Eyes down, now." Slaves were not supposed to look their superiors in the eye, although I disobeyed this rule often.
I directed my eyes down at his feet, hating the fact that he was impeding on my moment alone.
"Better."
He let something drop to the ground in front of me.
With that I heard him take his leave. A small wrapped sac sat before me. Although I didn't want to move my body I crawled over to the sac. I unwrapped it only to find that the sac was actually a wrapped blanket and in the middle of the blanket there was a small end piece of bread.
My mouth instantly watered at the sight of food. My mind was overwhelmed with the fact that he would give anything to me. I took the bread and set it in my lap as I wrapped the blanket around my body. It was thin but it was surprisingly warm. I then took my piece of bread and put small bites into my mouth so as to savor the taste of it. I wanted to enjoy every morsel of this blessing.
As I ate slowly, I thought to myself that this didn't change anything between him and me. Although I hated him in general, at this particular moment I was thankful to him. He did after all get me out of more work after my run. I wondered when he planned to leave the grounds completely. Surly he was just a visiting admiral. The sooner the better. My life was hard enough.
Edward's POV:
I watched as the young girl ate the bread that I had left her. Funny, I would've thought she would have devour it in a matter of moments.
But she seemed to want to savor it. Not that I blamed her. In fact it pleased me.
While I stared at her from a distance my mind lingered back to the thoughts of her running. I remembered each time she passed us. It was hard not to look at her features. They were impressive for laborer. Normally laborers where underdeveloped and hard on the eyes. But she was different. I noticed it instantly when I saw her hobbling over to the work-hall for the first time.
I thought she was a docile girl at first until she glared at me from the corner of her eye. She didn't like the idea of me blowing my smoke in her face. And then I thought, perhaps that was just my imagination. So I decided to do it again.
When she glared at me even harder, I felt excitement. However I did not expect her to react with a violent wave of her hand which had made contact with me. Slaves did not touch me on their own. Filthy things they were. It surprised me so heavily that I called attention to the incident.
At first I thought the guards would take her and give her a beating. I was eager to watch. But when they told her to get on her knees I knew she was going to be shot. Although her outburst was way beyond that of her place, she didn't deserve death. This was my work camp! How many other workers had they shot? Beat them for hours for all I cared, but do not kill them! No wonder my investments were high and profits low. Waste of my time and money.
So I stepped in.
I was surprised with the punishment the guards came up with on the spot since their initial plan was to shoot her. But I found it agreeable. I remembered when she was told to strip naked, she looked at me with such humiliation. I knew to strip in front of me was the last thing she wanted to do. I could see it in her eyes.
Her pride stopped her for a moment as she looked at me. But she quickly turned her back and continued when the guard screamed at her. I tried to look as if I didn't care, but my heart just jumped with excitement at the thought of her surrendering her last shred of dignity.
Once completely bare I could feel the tenseness of her body from behind. As a laborer I would have thought she would be used to being naked in front of men of all sorts. Nude marches were a routine for health inspections. Or they should be anyways. Who knew what these guards were doing without my knowing. Which is why I decided to show up for a surprise inspection.
I watched her bare body take off into the rain and couldn't help but smile at her constant stubbornness.
Every mile she ran, I couldn't take my eyes off her. Her wet hair clung and stuck to the back of her as she struggled to stay in front of the pact. For a while she was doing well, because she was a lot younger than the rest of the women therefore it was easier for her to keep her speed. Then out of nowhere one of the women jumped on her and she slipped in the mud. I watched the others trample her and I felt a small twinge of pity.
When she stood again, she had a thick layer of mud that covered the front of her body. She looked quite put out that she had fallen so close to the end of her race. It even surprised me when the woman unexpectedly jumped on her. Almost as if she had done it purposely at that precise moment to ruin her. But then again, it was her fault that they were running in the first place.
When the guards motioned her to keep coming she got up slowly and limped the first few steps into her run. She must have been in pain.
She did a soft jog the rest of the way until she stood before us again. She truly was a pitiful sight. Her lips were blue, and her body was covered in goose bumps. I laughed to myself, poor thing could not even wash after. Goodness knows she of all needed it, especially now. It did serve her right however. She needed a good lesson in respect. She was stubborn, prideful, and didn't lower her eyes to her superiors.
While she stood in front of me the guards asked what I thought of her punishment so far and it occurred to me to have her run longer. But based on the sight before me I could see her body was freezing and shaking like a soaked puppy. She felt humiliated at her bareness as she pulled her arms to her chest and moreover I could tell the woman who pounced on her had hurt her. But the most satisfying feeling was the look she got in her eyes when she realized I held her fate in my hands. And as much as that irked her, I could tell she tried not to show it.
She needed to be broken.
I smiled as a mental image entered my mind of her bringing me my slippers as I sat in a comfy arm chair next to a glowing fire with a cigar. But before she would put the slippers on she would massage and kiss my feet submissively. I felt another jump in my heart at the tempting thought.
She looked completely drowned in misery. She had gone an entire day without food, water, or rest.
I knew she was supposed to finish her punishment by working extra hours in the factory, but I thought she'd had enough. I'm a firm believer that no master should beat a slave beyond all practicality. They should be beaten till the lesson is learned. Particularly when they are soaked and their tale is clearly between their legs.
I also knew the guards were counting on me to further her punishment. They expected me to be evil, to bring her more misery. I had a plethora of ideas to keep her busy for a few years. Horrible things that had been tested on others to prove their effectiveness.
But after today's harshness and considering the fact that she still had to walk back to her tent in the rain with mud still all over her and spend the night without blankets, I believed she had enough.
If I had her run she would not make it past the far post on the other side of plane and if I had her work in the factory she would pass out from exhaustion.
I would let her go for now.
It was not often I saw a slave that had a spirit like hers. Another day and she probably would have been shot and disposed of like a useless rag. Meeting her truly brightened my day almost as much as I darkened her day.
When I released her, the guards were very disappointed as they looked at each other in dismay, but she seemed surprised that I had a heart. Quickly they told her to go back to her tent. She slumped her shoulders and walked her naked body back to her tent.
My uniform was getting more soaked then I wanted it to on account of the rain getting harder and the wind picking up. I turned my foot towards the large manner where I looked forward to a luxury filled room, a warm meal, hot bath, and a comfortable bed.
I looked at her. Earlier I had seen the guards go and remove all the blankets from the tents. Perhaps a small blanket would give her something to live for.
When some of the guards fled for the comfortable Inn, I went inside the work-hall for a moment and glanced through some of the flimsy blankets that were going to be handed out to the women when they got back from their shower.
They all seemed as useless as the air itself. I threw some to the side glancing over all of them in disappointment. Perhaps I'm straining myself too much for her I thought.
Suddenly my hand landed on another blanket that was near the bottom of the pile. They were all ratty, but this one seemed in decent condition compared to the others. It also felt a bit thicker than the others I had tossed aside. It was small, but it would be warmer than the other blankets the women would have.
I picked it up and inspected it. This would do.
I was about to leave when I saw a few ends of bread still in the tray from the early lunch. I remembered with a smile how pathetic she looked as everyone around her ate their hot meals. How jealous she was as she glared at the others. She must be hungry.
My hand reached for the smallest end piece I could find. Something small would do. I put the bread in the middle of the blanket, wrapped it up tight, and put it under my arm so it would not get wet on my journey to her.
By the time I arrived to her tent I stopped suddenly. She was curled in the corner, her knees up to her mud stricken chest shivering wildly. 'Maybe I should let her deal with her punishment'. After all, if it had been anyone else I would've never given it a second thought.
But then again, it is hard to kick a puppy in the rain.
Her naked form was, appealing. Even from behind. Her hair looked fun to run my fingers through. For a slave, she was I guess nice to look at. I cleared my throat to which she quickly turned around in shock. I noticed that she looked as if she were on the very verge of tears. And perhaps if I had not shown up she would have been.
I let my eyes take in her sad position. She glared at me, and seemed to think me rude for this, as she jerked back around and tried to ignore me. So, so stubborn! I had never seen a slave act as insolently as her. She didn't even address me as was proper.
I chuckled at how bold she was. She needed to learn her lessons. Lots of them. Where did she get this spirit? This spirit of feistiness. She had the will to fight, which intrigued me.
"Do we need another lesson in respect?" I said hoping she would challenge me. Then I could touch her. Make her submit.
"No Sir," she said still facing away from me. But I heard the tone of her voice. It was unacceptable, but at least she was giving the right answers.
"Then turn around wench, you will not your back to me. Or I will break it." How dare she think herself worthy to turn her back to me? I would have broken the back of any slave that dared to turn on me. I am an admiral for fuck sakes!
She turned around staring at me with irritation. When our eyes met hers were like burning fires. I was her master, her owner, her superior. How dare she look at me as her equal?
However, they were quite pleasing to look at and complemented her features well. I felt an excitement in my lower region. It was not often that I felt the need to bed a slave. But this one, I could easily see myself taking my frustrations out on at the end of the day. A good hard fuck was always good for stress. Especially when they put up a decent fight, which I knew she would. There would be no way she would submit easily. It would make the conquering of her body all the more satisfying.
"Have you no shame? Eyes down, now."
She directed her eyes down at my feet glaring at them. Good girl. So she was capable of obeying.
"Better," I said smiling.
I dropped the blanket and bread in front of her. She should be grateful. With that I took my leave. I smiled as I stood far enough to where she would not look for me, but I could still watch her.
She looked at it for a minute or two examining it. Then unfolded it and realized it was a blanket with a piece of bread in it. And for the first time I saw her spirits lift and her lips twitch into a smile.
She wrapped the blanket around herself and then started eating the bread slowly. She looked a bit more comfortable and I could see she was thankful.
I decided to leave when I saw the other women coming back to their tents. They were most certainly not a pleasant sight to behold. Even after their showers. Not like the young stubborn girl inside huddled in the corner.
Once inside the large Inn, which was built on the land for the passersbys and those that lived at the camp, I went to the main office where I found the two chief guards that oversaw the laborers. They were speaking in German about the young girl today whom they felt they had embarrassed adequately. "Much better than killing her," one of them said.
I grabbed a nearby towel off the shelf, took off my fedora and dried my wet blond hair. I listened to the men joke on and on about the strange entertaining girl. I approached them after I grew tired of hearing their laughter.
"Excuse me," I said, "I have paperwork to attend to and I'm very tired."
"Oh of course!" They said handing me a key from around the desk that read Room 103. I then noticed that they both held food menus in their hands to which my stomach grumbled.
I held my hand out in an asking manor. The guard, whose name was Adalric, handed me his menu before the other could respond.
I won't deny that my being here has always held a certain significant meaning. Since I am so well-known and respected by a majority, my very presence was a privilege to most.
"Please have a hot meal sent to my room immediately. I'll have the Koenigsberger Klopse." This was by far one my favorite meals to favor. Meatballs in a white sauce flavored with lemon juice and capers. "Along with the cucumber salad and for dessert I'll have one Bavarian Cream." This dessert was divine. It always seemed to make my mouth water.
A pastry cream flavored with liqueur and lightened with whipped cream.
"Right away Sir."
I handed Adalric back his menu and then turned again to take my leave when another thought occurred to me. "One more thing," I said leaning over the counter, "I plan to depart soon, and I'd like to choose from the work camp a suitable wench to help ease my travels. Organize a march for me. I will be up bright and early to inspect them."
"Of course admiral," they both replied. "It shall be done."
"Excellent." I straightened my uniform and tipped my fedora to them. "I bid you a goodnight gentlemen." They nodded and tipped their caps to me as well.
As I walked to my room I found I was even more excited to see her tomorrow. Apart of me thought, why not just have her sent to your room so you can bed her tonight? Or at least put her mouth to better use. I laughed at the image. No. I am a patient man. I can wait. Besides I had paperwork. A plethora of paperwork. Paperwork about the health status of the labor camp, more supplies had to be ordered for the labors to continue their work, the work building needed cleaning as I could smell piss on the floors, the elderly needed releasing, and the guards needed to be checked up on as to how they were handling the labors. Most of all the labors needed to be rinsed and fed more often. I didn't put in orders for food for it to go to waste because they were not feeding them regular meals. By the time they fed them, the food was already stale or close to expiring. Waste of my money.
When I got to my room I sat down in my chair and leaned my head back closing my eyes. All I could see was her face. I smiled. Tomorrow, she would be mine.