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тнє уєαя ωαѕ 1944 [({ѕтαи∂υρgυу1 & тαℓιи})]

Talin

Supernova
Joined
Nov 17, 2011
Location
Kentucky
“Meruvina ,” her mother whispered into her ear as she hugged her goodbye. Mena’s mother was fleeing to the countryside. Her father, a well-known politician, had decided it was what was best the war was getting to be too much and Mena could understand. What she didn’t understand was why Franz, her husband and a general in the German army, wouldn’t send her with her mother. He was a fool if he thought she felt safe. Waving as the car moved away down the road she heard the bells tolling the hour and scrambled to get things ready. Checking on the staff she rushed around preparing things for Franz’s arrival. The bruise on her cheek was no laughing matter the pictures she’d had taken were beautiful and they were for the cause, she honestly thought that he would love them. But the anger and the rage he’d shown her had left her swollen and bruised, the other marks easily hidden beneath her clothing. He then took her as she lay bleeding, screaming that she was a whore.

Shaking off the memories she poured him a portion of vodka and ran to greet him at the door. Cream colored dress, decorated in deep rose polka dots, it swirled around her calves. The sleeves were slightly puffed and the matching ribbon accentuated her slender waist. Blonde hair coifed perfectly and pulled away from her face. Wide blue eyes crinkled as she smiled up at him, her face made up the way he liked. She was in a sense exactly what Hitler meant by Aryan. The dark thunderous look on his face told her that he wasn’t happy. Tilting her head she smiled and held out the glass of vodka. “What is wrong Franz? Was work that bad?” Franz jerked his overcoat off and flung it to the ground. Glaring at her he knocked the glass to the wooden floor and let it shatter. Her blue eyes glanced at the pieces and then back up to her husband. She came face to face with the photos of herself.

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The town car had pulled to a stop in front of the little wooden house on the edge of town a few days ago. The sleepy little town housed many like her, Franz sent her away. She hadn’t wanted to leave him, not when he was so angry with her. She was only told it was for a good cause, not that she would be put on the front of a calendar as well as in it. Do you want help the soldiers, yes, then pose for me? I make you famous, put your face on everything. Should have kept walking, said no. But not helping was like joining the other side. The bruises he’d left her with were knotted and tender, ranging in colors of deep purple to greenish yellow. All she could do was scream that she was sorry and that she loved him. He kept yelling that she was a whore and a disgrace to his name. She watched as he got up from the floor where he’d left her and ate dinner then went to sleep in their bed. The servants helped her up, cleaned and dressed her wounds and settled her in the couple’s spare bedroom.

Even now she cringed at the thought of the beating, his fist hitting her back and the solid -thunk- sound it made when it landed. This was the first time she had ventured out of the house since arriving. Her mother fretted, she’d heard news of troops moving into the area, they had seen nothing but neither left the house, her relatives wouldn’t allow it. Finally after much begging she was allowed out into the sunshine. Arm laden with a basket she wore a light blue dress edged in white. It hung off of her slender frame, left over from a cousin. She had to look less than she was, though her true beauty could not be hidden, but if anyone suspected her as a general’s wife she would be in danger. Her rings were left in her home in Munich, along with all of her fancy clothing and toiletries. Looking like a peasant, she moved amongst the others in the market blending in. Her mother needed items to make them food and had used the last of their supplies.

Weaving amongst the stands she found what she thought was the poorest amongst those selling. Placing her money in the withered woman’s hands she purchased her items. The woman kept adding things, stating the woman had paid her too much for so little. Mena merely smiled and lifted her hands, “No it is nothing, keep it for you need it more than I.” She moved away from the booth, sun glinting on her blonde waves that she allowed to hang loose about her shoulders and down her back. Smiling at the children running in the street, which was something she hadn’t been blessed with yet. Part of her didn’t want to have a child with Franz, especially if he could lose his anger so quickly. Moving gracefully back through the streets she pulled her lips together and tried to appear emotionless as those around her. A sharp pinging sound as bullets crashed against the walls around her had the streets cleared in the matter of minutes. Dropping her basket she crouched next to one of the wooden market carts. She heard voices and trembled in fear. Squeezing tight her eyes she silently prayed she would not be found.
 
Boot camp was not easy for mark. He hand joined the army when he found out that the belief true that Hitler had consternation camps. He trained for 4 long months till the japs bombed Pearl Harbor. The finally F.D.R. wasn’t playing that silly little game where he pretended the world wasn’t at war. In tanning he scored very high in running, shooting and military strategy. They actually made him a corneal. He was amazed by this because he was a Jew. don’t get me wrong better to be a Jew in new York city then Germany or Russia but still the American army had some anti-Semitism in it. Though that had gotten a bad name since the war with the Naizs started.

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D-Day was hell he was amazed he made it all the way through it. So many guns so many bombs it was so loud. They never would have made it to the grass if the flam thrower boys wouldn’t have fried thoughts krouts in the pillboxes. Many men died but the made it. Marks platoon made it through everything D-day the hedgerows of France, the cold northern France front lines and now there were in the father land Germany.
They picked up the stragglers on the way. Two French resistances guys who wanted to take the fight to the enemy. The war in France was all but over now. A jap from Fresno. They found him walking though France at first mark almost shot at him. Then he thought why a Jap would be so far from home. The searched him and he had U.S. dog tags and everything. Then four buffalo soldiers who got separated for their platoon. When they got them mark asked them if they had a problem working for a Jew. They all laughed and one said, “I have always worked for white men…no need to chop em up
They got word from Patton himself to take out any soldiers guarding the country side of the father land.

Mark took out his binoculars. He was wiping his long dark hair out of his face. His crew cut had not seen any attention for the four years he was in Europe. He used his hazel eyes to see the little country village they were going to go into. He yelled, “hay jack do you see what I see.” The jap walked next to him and looked though the binoculars. Jack looked for about 30 seconds and said, “boys every damn on of them.” Mark said, “there doing what they did the last damn war when they ran out of men they used boys to fight there goddamn battle’s.” Two of their Buffalo soldiers ran full speed to them and said, “the Watchemet there coming.” Mark said, “I thought they were in Russia?” “They were but Hitler knows that as good as done.” Mark asked, “Do they have any panzers or tigers.” “No that god but them got them new fangled assault rifles.” Mark thought about taking the Star of David off his neck. No not now not after everything. They’re going to know they died from a Jews gun. “Boys in the village fine some cover.” Then painfully he said, “Take out the boys only if you have to.”
As 30 men sunk into the village one of the buffalo soldiers got hit by a Nazi sniper. Marks platoon returned fire as they ran for cover.

(sorry i couldnt find a better pic of a world war two guy i looked for ever.)
 
Mena stayed crouched next to the wooden cart until she heard a scream. Blue eyes glanced back across the street to the elderly woman’s cart she came from a few moments earlier. A teenage girl was crying and babbling incoherently. Mena glanced out from behind her hiding spot, the coast was clear. Dashing across the road she bent carefully over the fallen woman. Thin frail finger came up to grasp hers, and pleading grey eyes met her blue. Mena swung into action and knew the bleeding needed to be stopped. Ripping part of her dress she pressed the blue fabric against the fragile woman’s arm. “Hold this here.” she said grasping the teenager’s hand. Mena ripped more from the lower hem on her dress taking it up to just above her knee, showing off her shapely calf. Tying off the arm she brushed her fingers over the woman’s brow.

The sweat coated brow worried her, she knew little. However she’d helped her mother mend minor wounds. Her mind spun with thoughts. Leaning back toward the way the shots came from she knew who would. Most soldiers in the field had to tend their own wounds, her husband had many scars from wounds he’d treated himself. Most she’d discovered on their honeymoon, when he’d taken her to the ocean, but it seemed like years ago. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts she looked back at the teenager and gripped the fingers of the elder lady. “I’ll be back with help.” Standing she rushed to the end of the street. Peeking around the corner she saw only smoke, nothing clear and visible. The smell of gunpowder filled the air, but Mena hadn’t the time to think, she didn’t think of danger only of the woman that laid dying against the building down the road.

Seeing movement she rushed forward. She saw only a male in a uniform. Her soft voice called to him urging him to follow. Certain he didn’t hear her she clasped his hand and pulled him with her. Speaking quickly in German she told the male of what had happened. How the woman was struck down and how worried Mena was about the situation. “Please help.” Her blue eyes turned on him begging for his help, never once seeing the American emblem on his uniform. Dropping to her knees she knelt at the head of the elder woman and tilted her head up at the man. “Please you must help her,” she pleaded in German. The teenager and the elderly woman looked up at her eyes full of shock, they saw the star of David necklace and each prayed for mercy as they screamed for him to leave. Mena stared at them in shock and asked them to calm down before turning to him and speaking in halted English. "My friend, she is hurt. A bullet is inside, shot. I need you help, please." Calming the woman with soft words Mena waited, hoping the man would help, otherwise the lady would die.

((That picture is fine, my post is a bit short, sorry v,v.))
 
He saw the beautiful women beg of him to help the lady. His morals got the better of him. They were Germans but they most likely didn’t know anything about the camps. He yelled, “Boys call for a cease fire. We got wounded civilians.” A American southern accent from faraway said, “yes sir.” The southern accent said in a German accent that raped the language like many German soldiers raped 14 year old Russian girls on the western front, “cease fire some Germans were hurt. We will heal them if you won’t be shooting at us. If you do be shooting at us we will kills them. Is cease fire understood?” a German voice said in English “yes.” The Germans didn’t like his bad grammar either but they weren’t going to hold that agents them it was there job to protect Germans citizens. The gun fire stoped.
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Mark got the med kit and followed the women to help the old lady who was hurt. He took out his med kit from his A.L.I.C.E. and took out the bullet with a par of surgical player’s. He took some whisky out of his pack and said, “this is going to hurt like hell.” He poured the booze on the old lady’s arm. She took it pretty well. Then he started to sow her up. He looked at the blond girl who had got him. She looked oddly furmillure but how would he know some German madden. He wrapped the wound In gaze. While he was doing all that he asked the blond, “what’s your name?” once he took the bullet out her realized it was a 9 millimeter. She got hit by a German bullet. He said, “friendly fire how pointless.” He yelled “boys fall in. if we have a cease fire were going to damn well use it.” Then one of the black soldiers came to him he wisped to the black soldier, “get on the squawk box and call for back up. Tell them to bring in some tanks they got nothing bigger then heavy infantry over there. He looked at the old lady, “yeah got your life saved by a Jew I guess were not all that bad after all.”
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All the soldiers started moving in. all the American soldiers came around where the women was hurt. Mark looked into the blonds eyes and said, “I’m sorry but we have to take you 3 as a prisoner of war.” The men’s guns all pointed to the girl. Marks said, “I wish I didn’t have to do that but your boys up the hill are going to kick are ass 6 was till Sunday if we fight them in open combat without some of our big guns.” She saw the black soldier use his transmitter to contact the ailed base. he looked at her and said, "god i know i have seen you some where before i just dont know where."
 
Mena watched the man curiously; she hated the way he kept looking at her. It made her feel awkward, but she wasn’t sure why. She knew her face was dirty, but at this point it was the lady that needed his attention more than her. Soft blue eyes flitted about his face as he worked; she’d never been this close to an American, let alone a Jew. He looked like a normal person, not the monster her husband had made them out to be. Turning her eyes down to the elder lady as she squeezed her hand. “Everything will be fine,” Mena said softly in German close to the woman’s ear. Lifting her head at his question she bit down on her lower lip, unsure if she should answer him or not. “Meruvina,” puzzled expression fell on him. Not understanding his words she just watched him and the others interact. The dark skinned man approached and her blue eyes widened. Her own pale skin looked like paper next to his; she’d never seen a man like this before.

Suddenly they were surrounded; she stood and wrapped her arms around herself. Holding her dress close to her body the teenager rose and the elderly woman was lifted off the ground. Mena translated his words to the other two. The teen cried, fear at what would happen. The elderly women stayed stoic. Mena stared at him. “NO!” she stepped back from him, defiance in her blue eyes. “My mutter will worry. I can’t go with you!” She turned quickly away from him her dress falling off her shoulder displaying part of a large bruise that Franz had left on her body. She turned back to face them as one of the men came up to her with a gun and shoved at her with the nozzle against her back. She followed them for this reason. “You no hurt us please. We done nothing wrong. We don’t have guns and we no plan anything against you.”

Mena didn’t understand why they were being taken. The man with his brown sad eyes watched her. He’d said sorry but she wasn’t sure if he truly was. She blushed when he caught her staring at him. He said he had seen her pictures that much she understood. She could have told him, she was proud of the pictures even though Franz wasn’t. Smoothing her blonde hair over her shoulders she walked into the brick home they’d directed her and the others too at the end of the street. One last look around at freedom and she moved into the confines of the home. Furniture was covered and it appeared spacious. The woman was laid on the couch and Mena and the girl took a seat in chairs. Staring at the Jewish man, before they were split up, her voice was soft, “It is not right to keep us.” Sitting on the bed she stared at the wall, she was scared of the men, but at least she was alone. Putting her arms over her head she laid back on the bed and relaxed.

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he sat down next to her he did the best German he could, “I much sorry we keep you her. Once friends come I go. I have story to tell you. When me and my friends got though the heag rows of France we find a little loyalist city. They and the Germans good friends. 3 Germans tried to kill us when we go by a bread store. We kill 2 and wund one. We take their packs away so other Germans don’t us them agents us. In a magazine I see a sexy picture of you. All the boys who fight for America have a pin up girl your mine. I know you wedded but I just wanted you to know that. I saw you have ring on your hand”
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Then he stud up, “I saw you have a bruise how did you get that. did you fall? Is husband you have away? I bet he worry you about.” He paused, “worried about you? How is he? What is his profession?” mark looked at her he wanted to make a peace offering. He took out a Hersey bar form his pack, “this be American Candy…it’s not as good as German stuff I have had a little bit of German candy but its good.”
(his German will get better as the story goes along.
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Hearing the door open she lifted her head and then sat up as the male sat next to her. Looking him over she didn’t smile or from she merely just was. Hearing his story she smiled, “Thank you, my husband, Franz, he was not so happy about them. Called me a whore for having them taken, they are not bad, I glad you like.” Looking down at the band and frowned, almost wishing she wasn’t married, simply because she could have done as she liked instead of having to listen to Franz’s advice.

Staring up at him as he stood she only watched and nodded. “Franz, when he saw the pictures.” she looked away and shook her head, “No he does not miss me, he has a mistress that makes him happy, she is not a whore like me. This is what he says.” Taking a chunk of the chocolate she laughed. This is not chocolate.” Handing it back her eyes met his. “You know I cannot tell you that. I am sorry.” Looking down her body at her dirty feet and legs sure her face was a mess as well. “Will I have bath drawn?”

She moved to the dresser and after looking a few minutes she settled on a large men’s shirt. Walking down the hall she stepped into the bathroom and turned on the water. Pulling off her clothing in the little bathroom, she caught her reflection in the mirror and stared for a moment. He’d said she was his pin up girl. “Pin Up Girl?” she looked at herself a moment longer before stepping into the warm water and sinking under it.
 
She looked like a goddess in the mirror for his vantage point. All though out the war he had dreams about her. Her amazing body sucking him, teasing him loving him. He should have had more self-control but it had been a long war and he was dirty too. and what he was about to do he couldn’t wash off.

He walked into the bath room. He asked can I join you. He didn’t even look at her. But she did say yes. He took of his pack. He undid his shirt and pants. He put his web gear to the side. Then he undid his boots. His body was dirty form crawling in the mud for months on months.

Finally it was just him her a tub and his underwear. He took the underwear off. A huge smile came to her face. He knew he was big he had showered with a whole bunch of other men in the army. He got into the tub. And even though he was dirty and smelly she punched on him. The pin up girl of his dreams. He felt her lovey lips agents his.

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(ignore the girl)
 
Mena surfaced she hadn’t understood what he’d asked her and nodded, thinking it was something to do with how the water felt or if it was nice. Closing her eyes she wrapped her arm around her breasts. She opened her eyes to see him climbing in the tub with her. Smiling up at his audacity, nothing about him impressed her. Cursing in German she stood, losing her balance she fell upon him.

Scurrying from the tub she glanced over her shoulder at him. “I sorry, I can’t. I don’t know your name and I am married. Please forgive me.” Her lips burned from where they had briefly brushed his. She couldn’t help the heat that rose up in her body at the thought of his rock hard member as he stepped into the tub. Franz was below average and made up for it by being a cruel lover. Often times she didn’t get her release and if she complained or spoke of it she was told it was her fault.

Sighing she sat on the bed in her room after bypassing the men that stared at he,r the white shirt clinging to her body. She wanted to go back to the tub and press her lips against him, but she didn’t dare. If Franz found out he would kill her. Glancing down at her hands she slid the band from her finger and threw it across the room. Opening the door she avoided the odd gaze of the males as she traveled back to the bathroom.

Stepping into the room she smiled and blushed. “I will bathe with you, but I can do now more than wash you and allow you to wash me. My husband is a General in Hitler’s army. He is cruel, abusive. Though I hate him I am his wife. I can do nothing about that.” she slid the shirt down her trim curvy form and stepped back into the tub across from him. Wrapping her arms to cover her breasts she looked him over. “What is your name?”
 
“My name is mark I am a first lt. in the U.S. army and as you can see I have not had a bath for many days. You just look so beautiful please get in the tub with me that water is great”. He took out a bar of soap and started soaping himself up. He realized it was just easier to speak English to her.

“The frits time I saw your picture I thought man I wish they made American women as good as you. Trust me they don’t.” kept washing his body it felt so good. he couldn’t believe that a few minutes ago he was fighting the best of their Germany army and no he was with a beautiful German women.

“I tell you one thing if I were your husband I would never beat you. You’re so good looking it would be selfish to not have your picture takein. I hear there is a 30 by 30 billboard of you just south of Munic. But I just cant believe I’m looking at the real thing."

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“Mark,” she repeated reaching her hand out for the soap, “You are missing some of the dirt on yourself Mark, may I help you?” She spoke perfect English, she had to pretend earlier. “I had to lie to you I speak English, it was part of my schooling, it will just be our little secret.” She leaned in closer and took the soap from him. Lathering it in her hands she smoothed her hands over his broad shoulders. “I have never seen an American and have never been allowed to touch anyone besides Franz.” she rose up on her knees so she could reach him better. her knee touched his inner thigh and her nipples just touched against his chest.

“I did not know there was a billboard.” she blushed gently before dipping the sponge into the water and squeezing it over his skin. “If you were my husband I would not want you gone from me.” She met his eyes, “I would need you.” She sat back into the water and looked over her shoulder at him as she lowered between his legs, her ass landing on the porcelain between his thighs. She had never been with any man besides Franz; she could imagine herself under Mark, crying out his name. But the sinful feeling it brought she wasn’t sure she could do it, though she wanted too. “Could you wash me now?”
 
He garbed a bar of soap and stared to wash her creamy white back. He got it all soaped up and then washed it with bath water. He paid special attention to her fear shapely rear…it was a thing of beauty. He loved getting her ass all soapy. He cleaned her underside a little just to tease her.
Then he started to soap up her stomach witch was tight and muscled. He moved higher soaping up her large firm breasts. He squeezed them and played with the nipples. The pin up girls breasts were amazing. big yet perky. He massaged the lovey globes instill he started to go south.
His hands made the voyage down her stomach to her trebling lips. He started to gently wash it. Working her labia never penetrating her then he started to work her clit. He foot started to stomp in pleasure.
 
Mena leaned into his touches, the gentle way his hands roamed over her body. She giggled like a school girl when he pressed his fingers under her ass. Leaning back against his strong chest, she could feel his erection between them. She wished she were a braver woman, one that could act on her own free will. And give him what he so desperately wanted, but the bruises on her back were a great indication of what Franz would do to her if he suspected she’d cheated. Her stomach muscles flexed under his hand and she whispered, “Mark that feels nice.” Her breath caught in her throat as his hands lifted and began washing her breasts. Her hands clenched, dragging nails over his thighs. Letting out a moan as his fingers teased her nipples by pulling them and twisting gently.

“Mark, no… we, oh, we shouldn’t.” She whispered breathily as he began stroking her clit. Her body betrayed her. Pressing her hips up against his finger, she wanted more, so much more. Guilt crept up on her. She stilled his hand, “I want you, but I can’t… not like this. Not when I barely know you.” She shuddered in his arms, “I know your name, that you are a Jew and you are American. That is all I know, and while for some that is enough, for me it cannot be. You understand?” She felt horrible, sick to her stomach as she stood in the water and faced him. Leaning she kissed him tenderly on the lips and stepped from the tub. Grabbing a towel she dried off slowly, “I am sorry, very sorry. I am a horrible woman and you, you are a great man.”
 
Just as she got out of the water dripping wet her pussy disparity wanting to be destroyed by a big American cock. Her husband walked in the door. He was tall and had blond hair and blue eyes. He had a dozen roses in his hand. He saw his wife in only a towel dripping wet without her ring on. He saw her walk out of there bath tub with a man with a Star of David on his neck. The man had brown hair and brown eyes. There were a set of American fatigues in a pile next to the tub. His wife had sex with an American Jew. and it was his fault.

This all started when he was driving back from Russia. He had to go through Munich to get back home. As he drove home he saw the huge billboard of his wife. It reminded him of his honeymoon. He thought to himself, “I beat my wife. I’m no better than the Jews and the communist who ruined this country. My wife was doing her patriotic duty. Showing the world it is the Airean women figure witch is better to all others.” He had friends with wives with brown hair and brown eyes. He knew that would never satisfy him. When he cheated on his wife it was with a girl with brown hair. She was not half the women his wife was between the sheets. He thought, “what if I got her pregnant and are children weren’t Airans? I would be doing the furer wrong. I am going to apologize to her. I will never hit her again. I will take back my wife. Then I will kill ever last one of thoughts Americans if I have to do it myself.” On the way home he picked up a dozen roses and sunk in the back door that only him and his wife new about. He heard splashing in the bathroom so he went in there.

When he walked in the door he said, “Mena I love you im sorr-“ then he saw what was going on. He dropped the roses and took out his pistol. Mark went for his gun as he did. Though it didn’t matter Hanz but the mussel to his own left temple and said in German, “for the fatherland” then he pulled the trigger.
 
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