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The view from the wardens office was fantastic. Through the large window she could see the river Mulde slowly float by beneath the sharp rock the castle stood on. And beyond the river the farmers golden fields stretched out towards the horizon. She could even see the outline of Leipzig in the distance. It sure was beautiful, the sight of freedom. But the thin, old glass that separated her from the majestic scenery of south eastern Germany could just as well have been a stone wall - there was no way for her to get out. She could not swim in the river, she could not run her hand through the rye in the fields, not walk the streets of Leipzig. Not any more. It was only two days since she had been arrested, and she had been sent immediately to Colditz Castle, a high security prison located in a medieval castle. It was well known for its thick stone walls and the horrors that was rumored to take place within them. And now it would be her new home.
"Take a good look. It may be the last of the world outside you ever see." the warden said with a dry voice. The tall man was sitting behind a big oak desk, blocking the view. He was wearing a dark blue waffenrock cowered with medals, and the ranks on his shoulders told her that he was a big shot. She knew his name was Brandt, she had been instructed to adress him as Oberstleutnant Brandt. He must at least be 40, the grey streaks in his short once black hair and the rugged face made that clear. His eyes were just as cold as they were dark, and the stern look he gave her made one thing clear - he was not a man of comrpomises.
The two guards that had escorted her to his office gave her a firm push forward. She had been without food since she was arrested - the reich had other priorities than feeding her - but at least one of the guards on the horrible train that had brought her here had been kind enough to give her some water. The soldier was young, only a boy, and his nervous attempt at a smile was the only kindness she had met since her capture. It was the only confirmation that she was still human, still alive. The lack of food had made her week, and the push from the guard was enough to make her stumble and almost fall.
"But off course, you could walk out of here before night falls." the man spoke again. "You know what we want to know. It is all up to you."
It was then she noticed that there was yet another person in the room. A woman, she did not seem to be any older than 20, was lying curled up in a basket on the floor, a basket of the kind you would give to your dog or some other pet, not to a human being. Once her slender body must have been beautiful, but now her nude body was worn out and mangled. Her dirty skin was covered with bruises, her back was covered with red stripes, and on her left ass cheek she had the number 12 burned into her pale skin. The woman was shivering, and her empty blue eyes were unfocused, staring out in the empty space. Her left hand was pressed in between her legs, and with rhythmical thrust she was pounding four fingers into her pussy. It was nothing erotic or sensual about it, on the contrary it looked painful and her pussy was all red. The movement was mechanical, she performed it in a compulsive and manic way. Nothing about her seemed human any more, she was just a shell, a body without life, a zombie. On the wall above her hung a painting of the führer.
Brandt studied his new prisoner with curious eyes, eager to get to know what kind of material his new toy was made of. He did not expect her to give up easily, and after all it would ruin all the fun if she did. No, this one looked like a though one, a one he would enjoy. The next few days would be fun ones.
"Take a good look. It may be the last of the world outside you ever see." the warden said with a dry voice. The tall man was sitting behind a big oak desk, blocking the view. He was wearing a dark blue waffenrock cowered with medals, and the ranks on his shoulders told her that he was a big shot. She knew his name was Brandt, she had been instructed to adress him as Oberstleutnant Brandt. He must at least be 40, the grey streaks in his short once black hair and the rugged face made that clear. His eyes were just as cold as they were dark, and the stern look he gave her made one thing clear - he was not a man of comrpomises.
The two guards that had escorted her to his office gave her a firm push forward. She had been without food since she was arrested - the reich had other priorities than feeding her - but at least one of the guards on the horrible train that had brought her here had been kind enough to give her some water. The soldier was young, only a boy, and his nervous attempt at a smile was the only kindness she had met since her capture. It was the only confirmation that she was still human, still alive. The lack of food had made her week, and the push from the guard was enough to make her stumble and almost fall.
"But off course, you could walk out of here before night falls." the man spoke again. "You know what we want to know. It is all up to you."
It was then she noticed that there was yet another person in the room. A woman, she did not seem to be any older than 20, was lying curled up in a basket on the floor, a basket of the kind you would give to your dog or some other pet, not to a human being. Once her slender body must have been beautiful, but now her nude body was worn out and mangled. Her dirty skin was covered with bruises, her back was covered with red stripes, and on her left ass cheek she had the number 12 burned into her pale skin. The woman was shivering, and her empty blue eyes were unfocused, staring out in the empty space. Her left hand was pressed in between her legs, and with rhythmical thrust she was pounding four fingers into her pussy. It was nothing erotic or sensual about it, on the contrary it looked painful and her pussy was all red. The movement was mechanical, she performed it in a compulsive and manic way. Nothing about her seemed human any more, she was just a shell, a body without life, a zombie. On the wall above her hung a painting of the führer.
Brandt studied his new prisoner with curious eyes, eager to get to know what kind of material his new toy was made of. He did not expect her to give up easily, and after all it would ruin all the fun if she did. No, this one looked like a though one, a one he would enjoy. The next few days would be fun ones.