XXXII  SURPRISE VISITS


The Black Shine, Hamburg, Germany, June 29th, 1939, 23.40 hours

So this was where the Superfrauen worshipped their godess of pleasure and lust. Black and red were the colours preferred, the music was strange to Madeline Whites ears, and the numerous german gals populating the giant club, drinking, dancing, smoking and chatting, were clad in very extravagant fetish outfits, PVC and shiny rubber very prominent. The higher the boots, the longer the gloves, and the tighter the corsettes, the better it seemed.
Madeline had compromised on black PVC trousers, a red silk top and black gloves, her hair combed back and looking wet – the latter was cool with the Superfrauen, or so she had been told by some young hockey girls weeks ago.
Her cover story as a sports journalist admiring the Germans for their strength and determination paid off well for her real assignment. The Propaganda ministry had sent her tickets for the Shine, and the big “temple” of pleasure was the perfect place for innocent meetings with sources and contacts, better even, a place to make more friends. If she was watched by Gestapo, countless high ranking Nazi gals would come under suspicion, and it would be very hard to determine for the opposition if anyone might be a traitress. Some Gauführas, generals of Wehrmacht and government officials were among Madelines social contacts in the Reich, masking the real agents she had running. Even the Lady Goebbels was known to be fond of “the White”.
This was good for her mission, but Madeline tried to avoid thinking about her reputation back in the States. In some circles there, “the White” was among the most hated journalists on record.
Her paper even got threats of kidnapping or even murder. The CIA-agent could live with that. It only enhanced her cover over here.
She approached one of the numerous bars and ordered a beer, returning the smile of some cute german chicks ready for the nights pleasure. The godess of pleasure, oh my. Madeline had been raised under the mother godess, her parents strongly believing in the ancient ways and virtues. Well, this blasphemy the Superfrauen called religion was seemingly even older, dating back to the savage tribes roaming the german forests while elsewhere civilisations rose and died. If the shamanistic priestresses dancing around old trees and burnig human sacrificies back then had PVC-dresses and rubber underwear in mind when worshipping their godess of pleasure was very doubtful, the White thought while sipping her beer.
It was the most natural thing the slender blonde approaching Madeline, ready for hunting. The blonde, clad in black PVC all over and with thick black and white make-up, was obviously intrigued by the darkhaired gal, the more so, as she found out her prey was an American. They chatted, danced, chatted again, a touch her and there, a smile, blazing eyes... after an hour, Madeline White and Major Hermine Oster of German Wehrmacht went upstairs to the Pleasure rooms like many other couples and even larger groups.
Madeline was absolutely sure every bedroom was bugged, and that eager and determined young ladies listenend intently over every sexual action here, ready to catch every treacherous conversation afterwards. So, the American and the blonde German went through their paces and put up quite a show, but traded only pleasentries and chitchatt after the action. The CIA-agent was no real friend of having sex with a stranger, and even didnt like sex with ladies. But having sex with males outside the strong boundaries of begetting to receive a new live, was unthinkable here as in Nazi-Germany heterosexuell sex was strictly forbidden. The term was “gendershame”, and Madelines anger rose up in her every time she thought of it. But her cover had to be maintained, and so she was amusing herself with the Superfrauen. Great British Queen Victorias words came to mind, with a slight variation: Close your eyes and think of America.
Naturally, the relevant conversation with blonde Hermine Oster had already taken place before both ladies went upstairs, masked from any listening devices by the loud music and the chatting people.
In the end, the blonde put her dress back on and left without too many words. Sex was the game, not affection or even – by the godess of revenge and death – love.
Madeline stayed in bed a little while longer, thinking about the information obtained tonight. The german resistance movement wanted Americas help, as the Britas had turned down an offer of cooperation, fearing doublecrossing by Gestapo. Unfortunately, the White was in no position to give such assistance, she could only report back to the beancounteresses at CIA.
America was neutral and would remain so, even if the Germans gobbled up Poland, clearly the next target on their long list. Maybe on that list, even if only on the last page, there was a country named America. Madeline wouldnt be surprised by that. The Germans appetite for foreign lands was only surpassed by their surge for pleasure in the sheets, and only by a small margin...



The Crooked Dragon, bar in Atlanta, Georgia, USA, July 17th, 1939, 19.21 hours

“Why shouldnt males get more rights in the family? Do you really believe they are inferior to us women? Its not right a male has to ask his wife for her okay if he wants to earn his money on his own.”
Amy stuffed more peanuts into her mouth, leaving the other Deltas at the table a little stunned by her vigorous stance for males lib. Maria Cipoletti smiled and said mildly:
“I always tend to forget you are a commie at heart, Amy. You know that in commie heartland, in Russia, males are no better of then mere slaves?”
“Pah, the Soviets have betrayed the communist ideals. The Stalina and her chicks are a bunch of thugs at best. If freedom, equality and real democracy have a chance, its over here in the States.”
“I hear you, Amy. Planning the revolution already?”
“Bullshit. Back to males rights, am I right or am I right? All this nonsense about decency and the ancient ways... the Middle Ages are over. Read the constitution. All people of womankind are equal and so forth... that includes males...”
“Okay, okay, but the jobmarket. What, if all these squires, working for lower wages, steal jobs from the gals? I am not surprised the Unions are opposing Roosevelts initiative.”
“The Unions are more reactionary than Hannah Ford in this respect, if thats at all possible.”
Maria decided to change the subject. Lighting up another cigarette, she asked:
“Any plans for the holidays? I must admitted I myself have no real idea what to do. Maybe I will go to the Rockys for some trekking.”
“Steeling yourself for the inevitable showdown with Skorzeny?”
Everyone laughed at that. Maria waved dismissively with a slender hand.
Another Delta asked:
“Hows your training going? I heard from Amy this Jap chick teaches you martial arts too now.”
Marias face darkened.
“Yeah. You would never believe the strength and agility of this small lady. Sometimes I wonder who she really is. But naturally she never tells me. Its amazing what is possible even for a small person like me to do to an enemy.”
Amy nodded and said:
“I have to inform you all that I put our sweet Marias new abilities to the test last week.”
“And? Did you knock her out for good as with all of us?”
The other Delta referred to Amys high abilities in boxing. Amy made a flat face and said matter of factly:
“No, our little Italian beat the sh*t out of me.”
The Others eyed Maria with barely hidden surprise.
“Really?”
“Really. She is dammned good and getting better.”
Maria busied herself with her cigarette, slighty ashamed by the praise. Amy patted her on the shoulder, reaching with her other hand over to the bar, in order to grabb another bowl of peanuts.
“Truth is, I am thinking about informing Lady Tucker about it. Maybe its a good idea for the Deltas as a whole to learn this art. If the Japanese wont teach us, maybe Maria could do it.”
The Deltas discussed the unarmed combat issue, most of them curious about the martial arts, but by default more biased towards conventional boxing and wrestling. Maria kept quiet, thereby noticing another of the girls not joining the conversation and seemingly deeply in thought.
Valery Komorski was a usually sincere and straight-forward dark-haired chick of polish origin. Now she didnt join the chatting and starred down into her beer. Maria leaned over, offered Valery a Marlboro and asked:
“Whats the matter, Valery? Everything okay with you?”
Valery took a stick, Maria lit the polish gals cigarette, and the darkhaired Delta inhaled deeply, contrary to her usual smoking habits.
“Oh, well, its about my family. I...oh, no.”
“Whats the problem? Come on.”
“My aunt and her family are still living over there in Europe, some small town east of Warzaw. With the tension over there, the threat of war and such, my family, especially my mothers, urged my aunt to come over with her kind to the States. The immigration matter is not easy, but my mothers have moved stars and moon to make it possible. Everything is okay with the papers now, my aunts family could board an airship to New York everyday, but...”
“Yeah?”
“My aunt just cant get started. They have no phone there, its a bit backward over there. All the mails going back and forth, to no avail. My mothers think someone of the family has to go over to Poland and get it right. We are very worried. Amy is sure there will be war, and my mothers think likewise. I am thinking about doing the job. Going over in my holidays to Europe and helping my aunts family to leave.”
Amy had noticed the conversation and said:
“You want to visit Poland, now?”
“I know its dangerous, but I must help my family, you know.”
Maria watched Amy closely.
“What is our noncom officer thinking? Amy? I already see it coming...”
Amy grinned.
“Look, Valery, its hard to journey to the old world all alone, especially in such a dangerous time. By coincidence, I have no plan for the holidays. Poland would be nice to see. Maybe Maria would care to join in too.”
Valery shook her head:
“No, Amy, you cant do that. Its dangerous, and...”
“We would be three. Tough chicks we are, arent we? Exactly the right gals to put such a matter right. Maybe the Germans attack and some good old violence must be dealt with. I cant think of a better holiday, to speak frankly. Maria, are you in?”
“You cant be serious, Amy.”
“Well, sweet Maria, you know if the Superfrauen invade Poland, their SET will be prominent among their forces. Wasnt there this SET chick, what was her name – Skorzeny, no?”
The change of Marias expression on hearing the blonde bitchs name was amazing.
“Uh – I hadnt thought of that.”
“Obviously. So, its decided. Poland, here we come.”


Bedroom, Villa of Lady Josefine Lenglen, near Paris, France, July 26th, 1939, 3.06 hours

The Lenglen didnt sleep well this night. She hadnt liked the party in the city her lady manager had urged her strongly to attend, and had left early on. All these fine, elegant, happy madams and mademoiselles, looking forward to some lust and love in the night had further darkened her mood.
The triumph in Wimbledon, she on the cover of Paris Match, Time, Newsweek and so on, the meeting with the french lady president – Josefines fame and success was at its peek. Contrary to this fact, she felt more empty and shallow day by day. This was all so vain, so useless, so – wrong.  There would be war, the fascists threatened freedom and democracy, a dark wave would rise and maybe destroy all civilization – and she played tennis and made advertisements for unhealthy cigarettes.
It would have been easy to find a lady for the night, some pleasure, some peace in the arms of a beautiful girl. The Lenglen had left the party alone.
Back home, she had emptied two bottles of heavy wine and consumed nearly a whole pack of Marlboros. The wine hadnt help her to find sleep. Instead, she turned in the sheets over and over, her mind, dizzy by the drugs, churning on the all to well known thoughts again and again.
Once more, she rolled onto her back, thinking about rising and jogging throught the nightly park to get her head clear again. Suddenly, someone sat down on the bed, above Josefine, effectively pinning her arms at her sides.
The Lenglen was by no means a sissy, but nonetheless an all too human reflex kicked in as she looked up. She opened her mouth to let out a scream, if surely not one of fear, than one of surprise and alarm. Obviously, the intrudress had counted on just this to happen. A silken packing was stuffed into Josefines mouth, fingers pressed more and more silk forward, Josefines cheeks already bulging from it. The Divine choked on the soft material and struggled under her attackress. The sudden, forcefull filling of her oral orifice stunned and nearly paralyzed her, giving the stranger all the time she needed. Making unitellegible sounds into her gag, the Lenglen found herself turned about and her hands tied with rope at the small of her back before she came back to her senses.
From this point on it was too late. All struggling nonwithstanding, a few minutes later the famous tennis star in her expensive silvern silk nighgown was trussed up with numerous ropes from shoulders to ankles.
The black clad and masked intrudress at last secured Josefines gag with a broad white silk scarf over her mouth, tied of at the nape of Josefines neck.
Reduced to a helpless package, the Lenglen had no other option than to watch with furious eyes as her enemy collected a bag from the ground and headed over to the “shrine” with her tennis trophies.
The Lenglen, still a bit stunned by developments, let out a useless groan through her gag, but than decided that struggling and whimpering would do her no good. This bitch would surely find such girlish behaviour amusing. So, she didnt move and remained quiet.
Her trophies, including the Wimbledon ones, vanished into the big bag, and finally the burglaress came over again. Josefines eyes widened as a small white flower was produced, came forth and slender gloved hands placed this flower in her hair.
The intrudress giggled girlish, took Josefines head in her hands and pressed home, through her own mask as well as Josefines silken gag, a long kiss. Josefine couldnt avoid to let out another groan at that.
Then the dark shadow, which Lenglen now knew to be the burglaress duped “The Flower” by the press, was gone, the Lenglen all alone again.
At least her hangover had paled by the events, Josefine thought wryly. Well, there were only two options. Waiting for the maid to arrive in the morning – unthinkable – or to untie herself. No one had ever accused the Machine to lack determination. She went to work, struggling with purpose on the bed, trying to reach knots with her fingers.
Two hours by the clock on the wall later she had to admit that the Flowers tying powers seemed to equal her own talent with tennis. There was no chance to get free. By her struggles, her bondage had only got tighter, and meanwhile her gag, the silk packing soaked with her own saliva, was becoming nearly unbearable. After being quiet the whole time, he let out a frustrated whimper. She would have to wait for the maid. Great, no, magnificient.
This was the moment when Josefine learned that things could get worse still, as the door opened and a widely grinning Vilma Viper entered, her camera complete with flashlight at the ready.
“Uh, some lights. Ah, yes. My oh my, what do we have here?  Nice package of arrogant, cool tennis star. Not so cool now, are you? Got a tip an hour ago. Glad I came over.”
The Viper helped herself to a frh pink chewing gum, all the while grinning like mad. Josefine just starred at her, not really believing the turn of events.
“Okay, o- kay. You always thought I am too stupid to understand your insults. Beautiful, arrogant Lenglen, so full of pride and contempt for others. I will make you pay, be sure of that. Did you know I changed my profession? No sports anymore. The Paparazzi business pays off far better, you know. The pictures taken tonight may make a fortune. Cant imagine a single gossip magazine turning down my offer.
Good. Lets get started. It fits you are gagged, as you wont smile anyway. By the way, very stylish how the white gag contrasts with those dark eyes of yours.”
Vilma Viper started taking pictures, and at this point, Josefine lost it in the end. Like a silly starlet in a Hollywood movie, the Divine started to struggle and whimper in her gag, her swears and impotent insults reduced to pointless mewing.

“TENSIONS RISING OVER DANZIG.
The crisis around the status of the city of Danzig and the so called corridor between Germany and Poland is heating up. Polish foreign secretary Maria Beck yesterday rejected another proposal by Germany issued a few days ago. Analysts believe war is on the horizon. Now, the Soviet Union becomes increasingly important for both sides in the conflict. The Allies are negotiating with the communist ladies, but main problem for an alliance remains polish reluctance to allow soviet troops to entrance to polish territory...”
International Heraldess Tribune, August 2nd 1939, Page 2.

“THE DIVINE STEPS DOWN!
French tennis star Josefine Lenglen, three time winnress of the Wimbledon championships and number one in the tennis world, announced in a press conference in Paris today her withdrawal from professional tennis. Preceded was the move about a week ago by a delicious affair, as the Divine was robbed in her home and left in her nightgown bound and gagged, to be photographed by a reportress, the pictures circulating in the press around the world. While it was expected the Lenglen would take up measures to stop the publishing of these embarassing shots, she refrained from doing so, only filing a law suit against the reportress in question.
The Lenglen said in Paris that she wants to return to the French army, where she holds a comission as reserve officer in tank troops, in her words, to defend civilisation against fascism. Read more on page 25.”
USA Today, August 3rd 1939, Page 1.


Mellowmouth Castle, HQ of the Queens Own commandos, Scotland, United Queendom, August 9th, 1939, 9.05 hours

“Trust me, it is really worth it, Lois.”
Lady Knight Eve Lois Mountbatten was more than a bit curious about todays presentation. Brigadier Jennifer AlanBrooke from Weapons Development had come over with a small scientist named Jocelyn Wattson-Watt. The “witch” had carried a small steel suitcase, containing a secret weapon, as Alanbrooke had told Lois this morning.
During breakfast, the two british officers had discussed their respective careers. While Eve had started to like her outfit, especially since the IRA-mission, Jennifer Alanebrooke feared to stay in Development forever, meanwhile a war was on the horizon and all others getting field commands in the – at last – expanding army.
But now AlanBrooke seemed to be quite happy with her assignment, as she smiled at Lois and her officers and gestured to the other side of the room, where two commandos stood in full gear.
“Okay, Myladies, lets get on with it. Miss Wattson-Watt came up with a strange device, a weapon of sort, which we at first viewed as not fitting for the armies needs. But then I thought of your mission here, and your success in Ireland in spring. Maybe YOU can use this little toy. Please, Miss Wattson-Watt, will you.”
The scientist produced a small, strange looking handgun, which reminded Lois of a Sci-Fi laser gun out of a movie, and aimed it at the two commandos in the back, who looked curious but unafraid.
AlanBrooke continued:
“Imagine yourself on a mission, your parameters are taking prisoners and no use of lethal force. Over there you have two german sentries. Now, watch closely.”
Wattson-Watt pulled the trigger of the weapon. A small buzz was audible, than one of the commandos dropped to the ground, followed by the other.”
Alarmed, the commandos lady doctor stepped forward.
“They are unconscious, but otherwise they seem okay,” she told all after a few moments.
AlanBrooke explained:
“They will awake after 10 to 15 minutes, completely healthy. I take it this timespan is more than enough for you to secure them with the tape you are so fond of.”
Lois nodded slowly.
“Amazing. A stun gun from a Sci-Fi movie. Is it reliable?”
“Quite so. We cant use it effectively in battle, but for commando actions without lethal force it seems perfect. You can even use it instead of silenced guns to threaten people.”
“Range?”
“Thats a problem. Up to 40 feet. We are working to improve that. Another issue is energy. At present a gun is loaded with enough for 6 shots. Then it must be recharged on a rather big and yet immobile station. Well, what do you think?”
Lois grinned.
“Well, Jennifer, this is great news. Deliver those toy guns to us, ande we will deliver you bloody german generals neatly packed.”
“If there is real war, that is...”
“Do you have the slightest doubts?”
“Not really.”


SET-facility T-11, Breslau, Silesia, Eastern Germany, August 23rd 1939, 20.56 hours

“My head will burst if we continue just one more day.”
Anke Stein sighed and lit a cigarette, offering the pack to Beate Brunner.
The blonde nodded.
“You are right. Okay, the mission has to do with Poland. But do we really have to speak perfect polish? I am sure most Poles speak worse than we do now.”
“Oberst Skorzeny is a perfectionist. Whatever the missio is, she wants us best prepared.”
The two SET sat in a restroom with about a dozen others of the special team. It had been another in a long row of days filled with exercises outside and polish lessons afterwards.
The Germans had gathered here to listen to the radio news.
“This is station Berlin. It is now 21 hours on the 23rd of August 1939. You are listening to the news. Foreign Secretary v. Ribbentrop today in Moscow signed a Non-Aggression-treaty between the Greater German Reich and the Soviet Union, thereby ending the face off between our two systems...”
The room erupted into heated discussion. Beate was furious.
“How could the Führa do such a thing? A treaty with the Bolschewikas! Thats unthinkable...”
Anke shook her head.
“You are wrong. The Führa is a genius. Now we dont have to worry anymore about Russia. Poland is doomed. Maybe even the Allies retreat and leave Poland alone. Wonderful...”
Beate wanted to counter that assessment, as the door opened and Oberst Skorzeny entered.
“Ladies, you have heard the news. Our mission is a go. I will now inform you about our target.”
In the sudden silence the Blonde went over to the wall, revealing a map hidden there before.
“This is the town of Gleiwitz near the polish border.”
Beate burst out:
“But thats in the Reich, I mean, its in Germany!”
Skorzeny smiled coldly:
“Exactly, Fraulein Brunner, exactly.”