“A SOLDIER’S DIARY.”

“A Soldier’s Diary”

It was in the fall of 1966.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

Elliot shuddered from the chill in the air as he stepped off the streetcar on Haupt Strasse, in the Schoneberg section of Berlin. In the waning light of the late afternoon, he glanced in either direction, then quickly made his way through the crowd of people returning home from work. He stepped inside the door and brushed aside a hanging doorway drape that shielded the inside from the cold air when the door was opened. The moldy sour smell of the bar surprised him, and for a brief moment, it took him back in time as familiar odors sometimes do, several years back to when he was a young sergeant first stationed in Berlin.

As his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit bar, Elliot saw a woman sitting alone in a corner booth, a cigarette in her hand, an empty glass in front of her. She was the reason he came back to Berlin.

Elizabeth, or Liz as most people called her, was a tall, attractive woman in her late forties, thin to a fault but with large sagging breasts. The woman had pale gray-blue eyes as one might expect with Germanic women. Her hair was ash brown, gathered in a French twist that gave her the appearance of a no-nonsense school teacher or governess. She had high cheekbones, a soft mouth, and an especially pleasant complexion, and like many of the women who worked in the sex trade, Liz used too much eye shadow to give herself a sultry wanton appearance.

Elizabeth was a dominatrix by trade and by nature, although lately, not a very successful one. The femdom market wasn’t thriving, at least not in the circles Liz traveled in. Over the last few years, she had been forced to offer her services to whatever the client wanted and even that wasn’t the lucrative business it had once been. Liz was sexually dominant, but she wasn’t a sadist. Hurting a man didn’t excite her, but the way they reacted to the threat of pain did. She loved to stand naked in front of a man, her legs apart, a riding crop in her hand, and watch him get down on his knees and beg to perform the most humiliating acts. Liz knew, while most of her clients were sexually aroused by the whip, they enjoyed the dire threat of a naked woman whipping them more than they enjoyed the actual pain.

Liz had been sitting in the bar since early afternoon. She had come directly from a hotel in a taxi paid for by a young Brit, a lance corporal stationed in Berlin. She tied the young soldier over a chair and whipped his bare behind with his belt until the young man got down on his knees and begged to drink her pee, just as he expected her to. The Brit was one of Liz’s regulars except it wasn’t as often as he or she wanted. Because of his low rank, the young soldier had neither the money nor time to see her often.

Liz was still wearing her red halter-neck dress, one of the two good dresses she owned, both well-worn. She would go braless when she wore the loose open underarm dress, as it allowed men to slide their hand in under her arm, to fondle her breasts. She knew, once the men felt her bare breasts, it would be hard for them to change their minds.

Like most of the German women at the time, Liz didn’t shave her underarms. The hair under her arms was fine and sparse, as was the hair between her legs. She did one time shave her pubic hair, but only because a man she lived with had asked her to. He had begged her many times without success until he finally realized that he might try offering her money. She agreed to do it for twenty Deutsche Marks, at the time about five U.S. dollars. He paid her on the condition she let him watch her while she shaved. He knelt in front of Liz, his face close while he watched her slide the razor over her pubic mound. When she was finished, she wiped the fleshy cunt lips dry, and made him stand over her and masturbate onto her breasts, then she whipped his behind with a riding crop until he licked it off.

His name was Anthony, a Brit working in Berlin. He owned the riding crop. When drinking he would claim to be a spy for the Brits, not that Liz cared. Then one day Anthony packed up and went back home to Britain, and Liz thought most likely to his wife and family, but he left the riding crop behind.

Liz felt the chilled air when the door opened, and she looked up. She saw him come in and she was bewildered at first but pleased. She was sure she recognized him. He was the American she had met in this same bar many years ago. At that time, he was a sergeant in the Army stationed in Berlin. My God that was so long ago, Liz thought. Seeing him again made her feel good, even a little euphoric.

Liz thought back, to 1950, when they first met. They had shared a few drinks and she took him home to her small one-room apartment. Within two days of their first meeting Liz and he moved in together. She liked Elliot and had been happy to move in with him.

Chapter 1

It was the summer of 1950

“Building a house of cards.”

She had found a place for them to rent, a room over a bar on Goerzallee in the Lichterfelde section of Berlin. Although Elliot didn’t know it, it was the same place Liz had lived with another soldier a year earlier. The room they rented was small with slanted ceilings and a single bed, but most important, it was close to McNair barracks where Elliot was stationed. They had lived there for almost a year, and it had been a good time for both of them. Liz had even harbored thoughts of marriage back then, but she knew that wasn’t likely.

Liz learned the handsome soldier had a fetish for the natural scent of her body. He liked to smell her, then lick and taste her body, especially her sweaty underarms and feet as well as her vagina and anal bud. The aroma of her body excited him so much that he begged Liz not to bathe before sex. Elizabeth was surprised at how avidly the young soldier responded when her body odor and flavor were strong. Elliot would say she was deliciously ripe and bury his face between her legs, using his tongue with a fervor she hadn’t expected. It was as if the natural earthy scent and taste of a woman’s body were an aphrodisiac.

When Liz was performing oral sex on him, Elliot would often ask her to bite down hard. “Please chew on me,” he’d beg, telling her how much he enjoyed the pain of her teeth chewing on his cock. With Elizabeth’s experience as a professional dominatrix, she quickly recognized the young man was a sexual submissive and what the women in Liz’s trade called a painslut.

Liz was certain, from Elliot’s demeanor, that he would get sexual pleasure from being whipped by a dominant woman, but she wasn’t sure how to approach him about it. Liz knew that it wasn’t unusual for married submissive men to keep their masochistic and subservient role-playing separate from their everyday home life. She was concerned if she introduced him to the whip, even though he may enjoy it, the confusion of being whipped by the woman he lived with might be so traumatic, the young sergeant might move out.

And if Liz was honest about it, she was quite happy with their living arrangement, especially the financial part. Although she didn’t charge him for the sex per se, he paid for their food and the rent, and he always had American cigarettes. She knew he’d give her some money now and then, and she was skimming a few bucks off the top of the money he gave her for the rent and food shopping. With Elliot busy all day in McNair Barracks, Liz could easily find time to conduct her business, and on occasion, she even saved a few bucks by bringing clients to their room.

Liz had tried dropping small hints to Elliot about his desire for punishment, suggesting he might need a good spanking or whipping. Although her comments usually got a grin or a nervous laugh out of him, Liz wasn’t convinced he wanted her to be the one who punished him. They had been living together for several months when Liz decided to see how the young soldier would react if he were to see her naked with a riding crop in her hand.

She had been busy all morning with clients and stopped by her mother’s apartment in East Berlin to pick up some things as well as the riding crop she kept there. She carried a heavy bag up the stairs and smiled at Elliot as she stepped inside the apartment. Liz dropped the leather bag down. “Make us some tea,” she said, as she removed her heavy coat and sweater. As she expected, Elliot’s mind was already captivated, his eyes glued to her as she undressed. When she was finished, she stood by the kitchen table naked but still wearing her heavy leather boots. She gave Elliot a mischievous grin as she casually put one booted foot up onto the chair. “Look at my cunt,” she said, spreading her leg, her tone of voice arrogant.

Elliot stood there mesmerized, unable to look away, his eyes fixated on the woman’s vagina. He watched as Liz put her forefinger between her legs, then put it to her nose, smelling herself. “Umm, I stink… Are you sure you want to lick me?” she asked, hesitating, “down there,” she added, teasing him. Liz knew he worshipped her cunt, especially when she was ripe.

Elliot put his head down, as he started to kneel, his face was so close he could smell the aroma of her cunt wafting up from between her legs. “Please let me?” he, begged. But just as the young soldier’s knees touched the floor, Liz reached down and grabbed his ear, twisting it hard, pulling him back up to his feet.

“Yes, but not now!” she said, in a firm tone of voice, still holding him by his ear. Liz reached into the bag. “I brought something home I think you might like,” she said. She took out the riding crop Anthony had left behind and held it up for him to see. Liz stood there naked, facing him, her legs apart, striking her right thigh with the crop, and she wasn’t smiling. “Well Young Man,” she said, speaking in a harsh tone, “Is this something that interests you?”

She could see that Elliot was so captivated by the sight of the riding crop; the young soldier couldn’t move; he just stood there with his mouth open, unable to stop staring at the whip.

“Yes,” she nodded, smiling at him. “I’m going to use it on you,” she said as if she was answering the young man’s question. “I’ve been too easy with you; it’s time you were punished,” she added, her eyes holding his. “Now lower your pants,” she ordered, pointing at the floor with the riding crop. “I want them down around your ankles,” she said in a calm but authoritative voice.

Elliot lowered his eyes, “Yes Liz,” he whispered, as he unbuckled his belt, then opened his pants and slid them to the floor.

When Liz saw how quick he was to obey her, she knew she was right. The young man wanted to be whipped. “Umm good, and your underpants,” she reminded him, tapping his side with the whip.

Elliot nodded quickly. “Yes, of course, Liz,” he answered in a servile tone.

She stared at him with a frown, tapping his erection with the tip of the riding crop. “You were told to make the tea, Elliot!” she said, sounding very impatient with him.

“Yes Liz, but I…I was going to.” he stuttered, shaking his head, refusing to look at her.

Liz could see his cock was standing hard for the whip, something she often saw with clients in her line of work. She held her finger to her mouth. “Not Liz,” she said in a soft tone of voice, shaking her head just a little. “You address me as Mistress Liz or Miss when I have the whip in my hand. Do you understand?” she corrected him.

“Yes, Miss, of course!” he answered, his eyes still on the crop.

“So, since you didn’t make the tea, you deserve to be punished,” she smiled, tilting her head. “No?” she asked.

“But, Miss,” he whined, looking down, his voice shaky but with a hint of resignation.

“You know very well I will not tolerate disobedience,” she explained in a soft tone, smiling at him, sounding very much like a stern parent.

Elliot stood there staring, his eyes still locked on the whip. “Miss, may I be allowed to make the tea now?” he asked.

“No, not now Elliot,” she said, laughing at the young man’s feeble attempt to avoid the whipping. “I’m sorry,” she said in an apologetic tone, “but this is something we have to do.”

“Miss, if… if I get down on m…my knees and beg you not to whip me, will that help?” he stuttered.

She smiled to herself. Liz was a skilled professional dominatrix with years of experience; she knew men like Elliot reveled in the humiliation of being made to kneel for a woman. The young Elizabeth had learned her trade years ago, at a young age, before the war. When Liz was a young woman, her parents had sent her out to work as a live-in maid for a wealthy older businessman and his much younger wife, in one of the many mansions that dotted the Dahlem section of Berlin. Although her employer, Herr Stahlmann was a short balding man, his wife was the epitome of a Viking woman warrior. The tall, square-shouldered woman had snow-white hair that she wore in an unfashionable military style crew cut. The stern-looking Frau Stahlmann had pale grey piercing eyes, high cheekbones, and thin very defined lips. Although not readily noticeable, Frau Stahlmann was quite proud of a thin pale scar she had on her left cheek that she referred to as her dueling scar. Something the intimidating woman thought of as a badge of honor, or at least that was what she told people.

The young maid Elizabeth had only worked there for a short time when she was introduced into the strange world of female dominance by Frau Stahlmann. One afternoon Elizabeth was confronted by the manageress, an older, stocky woman who oversaw the household.

“You will report to Frau Stahlmann immediately, Fraulein Schmidt. You have not been doing your job!” she explained, sounding very pleased with herself.

When the nervous young Liz reported to Frau Stahlmann in her bedroom, the woman was stark naked with a whip by her side. She was sitting down pulling a black leather boot on her foot. “Elizabeth, this is regarding my husband,” she said in an angry tone, pointing to the far corner of the room.

Although the area was not well lit Liz could see the back and bare behind of Herr Stahlmann standing naked in the corner, his face pressed tightly against the wall. “I caught him masturbating this morning,” his wife said loud enough so that Herr Stahlmann could hear her. “He had a soiled pair of panties in his mouth,” she sneered, making a sour face, “and this is not the first time,” she added. “They were your panties, and I feel as the injured party, it is only fair that you should be allowed to punish the fat pig.” Frau Stahlmann pointed to an open box with a new pair of very expensive black boots in it. Take off your clothes and put on your new boots, if this is something that you might wish to do,” she said.

Liz remembered that evening with the Stahlmanns and so many more just like it during her three-year employment with them, how often Herr Stahlmann had been on his knees, begging the two women for mercy but to no avail. Liz thought about how in subsequent sessions they whipped the man and made him perform the most humiliating acts. How they made the older man kneel, and orally service them both, front and back, then forced him to drink their pee from a dog’s bowl, and how surprised Liz was to learn, it was exactly what the older man wanted. She remembered how impressed she was with Frau Stahlmann’s power over a man, and how much she wanted to be like her, but most of all Liz remembered the expensive gifts the Stahlmanns gave her for her service.

Liz stood there listening to Elliot stammering. She nodded to him, with a smile, accepting his offer to kneel and beg her. “Umm. Oh, that’s a good idea,” she said in a soft tone. “Why don’t you kneel and lick my boots nice and clean for me.”

“Thank you, Miss,” he said, sounding relieved, as he quickly knelt on the floor, his hands, fondling her foot in a caressing way. He put his mouth to the toe of her boot, kissing the leather as though he worshipped it.

As he started to lick the toe of her boot, Liz callously put her boot to his face and pushed him back. “But first, let me sit down,” she said. Liz pulled a wooden chair close to Elliot and sat with her legs apart, so close his face was between her legs. She looked down at him, as he leaned forward and started to kiss her vagina. “Oh no,” she laughed, “That’s your reward. You have to earn that privilege,” she said shaking her head and pushing him away. “I want you to lick my boots.”

“Yes of course Miss, I’m sorry. I want to do that for you,” he apologized.

Elliot scooted back a little and lifted her foot, holding the weight of her boot in his hands. He put his mouth to her boot and started to run his tongue along the tip of it then slowly licked his way up. When he had finished cleaning her boot with his tongue, he looked up waiting. Elliot knew the bottom of her boot could be filthy from the street, and he wanted to lick it clean for her, but with his submissive nature, he wanted the euphoric pleasure of being forced to humiliate himself.

She looked down at him, frowning, well aware of the submissive man’s needs. “Did you forget the bottom of my boot?” she asked, with a hint of anger in her voice. She lifted her foot higher, pushing the soul of her boot to his face. “I know it’s filthy. I stepped in something…” she hesitated. “Ewww,” she said, crinkling her nose, then shaking her head in disgust. “I think you need a good slap in the face, for making me remind you!” Liz knew, degrading the submissive young man would give him the rush of euphoria he wanted.

“No, Miss,” he apologized. “Please don’t be angry with me, I want to lick the bottom of your boot,” he said, quickly working his tongue back and forth over the sole of her boot, ignoring the small grains of dirt he felt and tasted with his tongue.

When he was finished, he sat up looking at her. He reached out, to pick up her other foot. “May I do the other boot, Miss?” he asked.

Liz laughed, then smiled at him, shaking her head. “No, not now,” she said standing up. Liz was an experienced dominatrix and understood the mind of a submissive man and she knew he was stalling. She knew, as much as he wanted the whip, he was afraid of it and she also knew that that fear of a naked woman with a whip, gave men like Elliot intense sexual pleasure.

“I’ve decided to forgive you for not making the tea,” she said in a friendly tone.

“Thank you, Miss,” he grinned, but his voice sounded as though he was disappointed by her change of mind.

Liz glanced at where she had been sitting and pointed. “Watching you on your knees licking my boots has my cunt dripping,” she said. “The chair seat is all wet.”

“Yes Miss,” Elliot nodded, twisting his head. “I’ll clean it.” He leaned over and started to lick the wooden chair seat.

“I want it nice and clean. Make sure you lick the whole seat,” she said, pointing with her whip.

The young man nodded, “Yes Miss!” as he carefully ran his tongue back and forth over the wooden seat.

Liz smiled, “Very nice,” she said. “Now stand up! Where do you want it?” she asked in a loud harsh voice. “On your cock or your behind?”

“B…but Miss,” he complained, as he stood up. “You said…”

She gave him a stern look, then slapped his face hard. “Stop whining you little slut!” She frowned at him, holding her forefinger up as a warning. “Not another word! I’m going to whip your cock because I like to do that,” she said in a harsh tone.

Elliot stood there wide-eyed, with a pained expression on his face. “Please Miss, not there, not on my penis,” he said shaking his head.”

“Oh, poor Elliot!” she nodded, laughing at him, slapping his face again. “I whip you wherever I want,” she said. “Umm, but think about it. If I whip your behind, it will be less painful for you than a good cock whipping, but when you shower in the barracks the other men will easily notice the red welts on your behind,” she laughed. “Or maybe you want the men to know I whip you?” she asked tilting her head with a feigned frown.

“No! Please don’t do that,” he answered with his head hanging down.

Liz stepped closer, rubbing her nipples against his arm. She could see Elliot’s cock was throbbing hard and his breathing was labored. She took his cock in her hand, squeezing it, gently stroking it. “Umm, we’ll see. I may decide to whip both your cock and ass,” she said in a soft tone of voice, like that of an undecided parent.

“Yes Miss,” he answered. He shuffled close to the table, his feet still encumbered by his pants. He leaned his hips forward, putting his erect cock on the table, and dutifully put his hands behind his back as though he had done this before.

“Umm, and it’s such a nice cock,” she smiled at him. She slowly massaged his erection. watching his face grimacing with pleasure. “You’re so hard. Umm,” she smiled. “I think your cock wants the whip?” Liz asked with a hint of enthusiasm in her voice.

“I don’t know miss,” he whispered his answer, looking down, too afraid to look at her.

Liz swung the crop down, striking his cock hard as she put her face to his cheek. “Don’t you ever tell me, you don’t know! When I ask if your cock wants the whip, you say, yes Mistress!” She screamed at him, spitting her words in his face.

Ahhhhh,” he groaned, “Oh God that hurt,” he whispered.

Her eyes lit up. “Yes! Elliot! That’s why it’s called punishment. It’s supposed to hurt!” she said, her tone harsh. She bit her lip, “and I like to hurt you!” she added, and she knew, that was what he wanted to hear. Whipping naked men was Liz’s trade. Men paid her to whip them, that was how she earned her living.

She stepped behind him, and reached between his legs, cupping his balls. “Legs apart! and keep your hands behind your back, Young Man!” she ordered, squeezing his testicles hard as she spoke. Liz liked to hold a man’s balls when she talked to him. She knew how weak it made submissive men feel and how they relished that feeling of vulnerability and Liz enjoyed seeing the fear in their eyes.

“Ohh,” he grunted in pain. “Yes, Miss!”

“Stand straight and be quiet!” she said, striking his cock hard with the riding crop.

“Ahhhhh!” he grunted, jumping back from the table. “Yes, Miss! I’m sorry I moved,” he whispered, quickly stepping back to the table.

She held her finger up as a warning, “You speak when I tell you to,” she ordered, striking the cock again. “You see what happens when you don’t do as you’re told?”

“Ahhhhh,” he panted out, “Yes, Miss. Thank you, Miss.” He answered her in a frightened tone. But he still held his cock out for her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to speak, Miss.”

Liz leaned closer, her lips again touching his face as she spoke. “Giving your cock a good whipping excites me; it makes my cunt drip,” she said, twisting his cock hard, then slowly milking it, bringing him closer, but keeping him on the edge.

She put her finger to his chin, lifting it. “You look me in the eyes when I whip you!” she said in a nasty tone as she struck the whip down hard, on his cock.

“Ohhh God. Please Miss!” he screamed, doubling over, whimpering, panting, holding the injured cock in his hand, but quickly putting it back in place. “Yes, Miss.”

“Come come, Elliot! Stand up straight,” she ordered, “and stop sniveling like a cunt!”

“Yes, Miss, I’m sorry,” the young man said, breathlessly panting out his words.

“That’s better,” she nodded, slowly milking his cock, rubbing her hand back and forth. “You have such a nice cock. Does that feel good?” she asked. “Umm, would you like me to kiss it, put it in my mouth, and suck it when I’m done whipping you?” she asked, watching his body tense as his breathing faltered, her hand bringing him oh so close, but not quite.

“Oh, please, yes. I want that,” he panted, begging her.

She smiled and raised the riding whip. “Hold it out for the whip!” she said in a callous tone, then swung the whip down on his cock again, but much harder.

“Ahhhhh,” Elliot screamed out, bending over, grasping his cock, hanging his head down, breathing hard, panting out soft moaning sounds. “Oh God, please.”

“Shh, easy,” she whispered, kissing his cheek. “Now I want to hear you ask me for it!” she said in a snarling husky tone. “You ask me for it, or I will get very angry with you,” she said, her voice changing to a pleasant tone. “You know, if you make me angry, I will tie you to the table and we can do this all night.” she threatened.

“No, please don’t,” he whispered. “Yes Miss, I want it.” He was nodding his head, begging her. He made eye contact with her. “Please, Miss. Whip my cock,” he said, his voice breaking.

Liz smiled at him. “Oh, you like that?” she asked with a grin. “Of course, I will. If that’s what you want,” she smiled, fondling his erection.

Liz was skilled in the art of masturbating men. The experienced woman had handled hundreds of hard cocks in her line of work, and her soft hand brought Elliot ever closer to the point of no return.

“Oh, your poor little cock,” she said as she petted the young man’s throbbing cock, then moved her hand away and swung the crop down hard.

“Aaahhhh,’ he screamed.

“I know you like this!” she said, as she watched the young man’s face twisting in a painful grimace then saw his body stiffen.

Elliot’s breathing changed, as he started to push his hips forward in a thrusting motion. “Please Miss, whip the cock,” he panted out, grunting, “Please, hit it,” he moaned, moving his hips back and forth. “Please.”

Liz knew he was cumming and he needed the cock pain to reach the intense orgasm men like Elliot enjoy from having their cock abused. She struck the whip down, again and again, and again, harder, faster, on his cock.

“Ahhhhh… aaahhhhh… aaahhhhh.” He was groaning, making loud moaning sounds as his cock ejaculated large gobs of pearly white cum onto the table.

For a long moment, Elliot stood there with his head hanging down, breathing hard. He reached behind him and pulled the chair closer and as he sat down; he folded his arms on the table and rested his head. Liz stepped closer, her body touching his. She put her hand to the side of his face and pulled his head against her bare stomach, holding him tight against her body.

“Shh, easy,” she said.

“Whew. Thank you… thank you, Liz,” he whispered, putting his arms around her waist, and burying his face against her stomach, kissing her. “I wanted that so much,” he whispered. He put his mouth lower kissing her pubic mound. “I was afraid to ask you. I didn’t think you’d understand.

Liz got down on her knees and worked his feet free from his pants. “Shh, that’s alright,” she said. She pushed his legs apart and lifted his sore soft cock then leaned her head forward and took it in her mouth. Liz gently licked and sucked the soft member, nursing out the last droplets of cum from his cock head. Liz looked up at him, “I knew you needed that,” she said. “It’s my fault for waiting so long.”

She patted his knee, then stood up and leaned over, taking his chin in her hand. She pressed her mouth to his, spitting the droplets of cum mixed with her spit into his mouth. “You’re not finished,” she added, her tone assertive. She stepped over to the cabinet drawer and took out a spoon, holding it up and showing him. “You must always clean up after your whipping,” she said sounding like a parent. She carefully scraped his cum from the table, with the spoon.

“This wasn’t your first time, was it?” Liz asked. She lifted her head, nodding for him to open his mouth.

He shook his head with a nervous smile. “No. I was whipped once before,” he said.

She frowned, “Here in Berlin?”

“No, no,” he shook his head. “When I was stationed at an Army post close to where my Aunt Vivian lived. I sometimes stayed with her for the weekend, when my uncle was away,” he said opening his mouth for her.

Liz put the spoonful to his mouth, then nodded for him to swallow.

“Were you fucking your aunt?” she asked in a surprised tone.

“No,” he nodded, “She wouldn’t allow me to touch her.”

“Was she a dominatrix,” Liz asked with a frown.

“I don’t think so,” he shrugged. “She married my mom’s brother, Uncle William. He was a salesman, not home much, but they seemed normal.”

“So, why did she whip you?”

He frowned, then gave her a little sheepish smile. “I was staying a weekend with her, while Uncle William was away, and I found a pair of her soiled panties in the bathroom.” He hesitated, shaking his head, “I don’t know, I just started to smell them and, you know me, Liz, I put them in my mouth, tasting them and Aunt Vivan walked in.”

“You found them!” Liz frowned at him. “You mean you were looking in her dirty laundry hamper, don’t you?”

Elliot looked down, nodding, without answering her.

“Oh, she knew that! That must have been embarrassing,” Liz said, frowning. “But you liked it!” she added with a little grin.

“Yes, I loved it, but It wasn’t a whip.”

“Hmm?” she asked.

“She beat me with a wooden spoon.”

Liz laughed, pointing to his cock. “I see you liked it. You’re getting a little hard talking about it.”

“Yes,” he nodded, “We were both surprised when I came on her table.”

Liz stepped to the stove turning the fire on under the tea kettle.

“Umm, next time I’ll use a wooden spoon on you. My mother has one,” she said. “I like that. When we use the spoon in the kitchen, it will remind you of your cock punishment.”

Later as they sat drinking tea and talking, Liz touched herself between her legs and held her wet finger up to show him. “You see what whipping you has done to my cunt, I’m dripping wet. I need to be fucked,” she said, intentionally using a snarling harsh tone. “Don’t you dare tell me your cock is too sore to fuck.”

The next morning was a Sunday, and they sat together naked at the table as they often did when Elliot had the day off. Liz smiled, “We’re going to do that more often. Whipping you excites me, especially when I know how much you want it.” She picked up the coffee spoon and put it to her lips, spitting in it. “Would you like some sugar she asked?” nodding for him to open his mouth.

“Yes,” he nodded, answering her, but his tone of voice sounded different, maybe a little preoccupied, she thought.

Liz put the spoon in his mouth, then took it back and stirred her coffee. “It will be better for us both if we ritualize your whipping,” she said, in a lecturing tone of voice. “Painsluts like you will get more pleasure from it,” she said, then laughed at her choice of words. “We can do this the first Sunday of every month, unless, of course, I decide you need it more often.”

Liz didn’t notice but Elliot’s mind was elsewhere as her voice droned on. She went over the time frames with him for when his cock punishment would be scheduled and went into great detail, explaining what the ritual would be. On the day of his punishment, at noon he was to undress and hand Liz the riding crop. He was then to kneel, kiss her feet, and beg her to whip him. If she had the time and agreed, Elliot was to stand naked with his cock on the table waiting until she was ready. He was to stand there waiting, regardless of how long she might take.

Liz smiled at him, “and if for some reason we have company on your whipping day, if my mother or my sister were to visit, or maybe a woman I work with stops over, that will not be an acceptable excuse to postpone your punishment,” she said. She wanted the young man to know she would whip him with other women watching because she knew very well, he would like that.

“So do you understand?” she asked, then stared at him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Elliot didn’t answer, instead, he got down on his knees in front of her. He pushed her legs apart and put his face against her thigh, kissing, and rubbing his cheek against her soft skin. He leaned close, smelling her, then kissed her cunt lips, but not in a sexual way, it was more like an affectionate kiss.

He stood up and looked at her without smiling, he walked over to the cabinet. “I’m on orders Liz. They’re fighting in Korea,” he said.

Liz sat back closing her eyes. She bit her lip for a moment, then looked at him. “But.. but not you!” she stuttered. “But you were in the war! You don’t have to…” she said, shaking her head, and looking at him with a quizzical expression on her face.

He looked away. “I asked for it, Liz. I’m a soldier. I want to be there.”

Liz’s eyes opened wide, “But why?” she asked. “Why?” Her face twisted into an angry scowl. “Why would you?” she asked, leaning forward, screaming her question at him. She picked up her coffee cup, “You fucking idiot!” she cried, throwing the cup at him. She put her head down, her face in her hands sobbing. “You fucking idiot,” she said, screaming the words over and over again.

And a little over a month later, Liz found herself standing at the railway station, tears running down her face, waving goodbye to Elliot as he stepped up into the train to Frankfurt am Main, on his way to Korea and out of her life forever.

For Elliot the separation from Liz was different. Maybe he did love her, but that wouldn’t have mattered to him. Elliot was a career soldier, and he looked forward to Korea. Elliot considered his time in Berlin with Liz as a brief diversion from the norm, and that was over, he had more important things to do. Elliot knew his life was soon going to be very hectic.

Chapter 2

It was now 15 years later, the summer of 1965.

“When one door closes another door opens.”

After Korea, it took a few years before Elliot started to realize how much he missed Liz. As the years went by and Elliot’s military career was coming to an end, he found himself thinking more and more about his time in Berlin with Liz. He sometimes toyed with the thought of using his leave time and spending a week or so in Berlin looking for her. But Elliot was a pragmatic man, he knew so much time had passed he’d never be able to find Liz.

Elliot had been in the Army for more than twenty-six years; he had fought in two wars and now there were rumblings of a full-scale war in Vietnam, and he didn’t want to hang around for the third one, for him, it was time. On the day Elliot retired from the Army at Fort Dix, the first thing he did was drive an hour and a half to visit his aunt.

Aunt Vivian was by now, a widow in her sixties. She was a tall thin, dark-haired woman with striking sharp features, a hook nose, and dark piercing eyes. The elderly woman had a narrow waist, small pear-shaped breasts, and thin long legs. When she answered the door, she was wearing a faded cotton button-down, knee-length house dress, no makeup, and well-worn house slippers. It was obvious to Elliot the woman had aged, but she looked very good to him.

They had been sitting in her living room, talking over tea for an hour or so, when Elliot nervously asked if he may use her bathroom. Vivian stood up and was pointing to the bathroom when she suddenly turned to him. She held up her hand. “Elliot, did you come here just to use my bathroom?” she asked, in a sharp accusing tone.

Taken back by her question, he put down his cup, shaking his head no, but yes, although he hadn’t planned it that way, Elliot knew very well, that that was why he was there. He looked away from her, his face turning red. “I’m sorry Vivian,” he said standing up. “Please don’t be angry with me, I’ll leave.”

She tilted her head, looking at him, studying him, then shook her head. “No, don’t go.” She thought for a moment. “I think maybe I understand.” She looked at him, holding his eyes with hers. Vivian frowned at him, then bit her lower lip, “You’re here because you want to be punished, aren’t you?” she asked in an accusing tone, then without waiting for an answer, “How long has it been Elliot?” she asked, in a tone of voice that sounded like a parent talking to her son about masturbating.

Elliot looked down, unwilling to face her. “It’s been a long time, Vivian,” he whispered. “Maybe two or three years.”

“A professional? Where was that?” she asked.

“Umm,” he nodded, “Where I was stationed, Kyushu, Japan,” he said, giving her an embarrassed smile, and shaking his head. “A Japanese woman, she was brutal!”

Vivian leaned forward, “But that’s what you wanted?” she asked.

He nodded.

As Vivian sat down, she pointed to the chair. “Sit,” she said, then looked away. She sat there for a few moments, then picked up her cup, sipping from it. “I miss your Uncle William so much, and your mom,” she said, glancing at Elliot, and smiling. “I’m sure you do too,” she added.

He nodded at her, with a sigh, relieved that she changed the subject. “It’s been a few years,” he answered, “I miss them too. I should have visited her more often.”

For another few minutes, they continued with small talk, about his mom passing, and what he did with her house, and her things, then Vivian stood up and stepped over close to him. She looked down at him her hands on her hips. She nodded her head with a knowing look on her face. “You just sit there,” she said, “I’ll be right back.”

When she came back into the room she had a long wooden spoon in her hand, and he could see she had changed her clothes. She was wearing sheer black stockings and a short black skirt. The white blouse she wore was so transparent he could see the outline of her nipples and she was wearing a pair of black high-heeled shoes she wore when she wanted to look sexy. She had put on makeup to give herself a sultry sexy appearance.

When she sat back down, she crossed her legs allowing her skirt to ride up, so much so that he could easily see the bare thigh flesh above the black stocking. She intentionally made eye contact with him as she placed the wooden spoon on the coffee table. Vivian sat back sliding her skirt, up carelessly opening her legs so that Elliot could see the pubic hair between her thighs. “I think you mentioned you wanted to use my bathroom,” she said.

“Well, I have some things I have to do,” she said in a business-like tone. “I’ll be gone for at least an hour,” she added. She held his eyes with hers. “Maybe you would like to wash up. Take your time,” she smiled. “Do whatever you want.” She stood up with the wooden spoon, smacking the palm of her hand. She tilted her head, glancing toward the bathroom. “There will be no reason to close doors, you’ll be alone here,” she said, then picked up her cup of tea and walked toward the dining room, disappearing into the darkness of the archway.

Elliot took a deep breath, then leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes. He sat there for a few minutes facing the dining room, listening, aware Vivan was still there sitting in the shadows. There wasn’t a sound in the house. He loosened his belt and opened his pants, then took out his cock and sat there touching himself. He liked the feeling of the cool air on his penis, just sitting in her living room with his cock exposed gave him sexual pleasure. After a few minutes, he leaned forward and untied his shoes, then stood up and stepped back from the coffee table. He took his time undressing, neatly piling his clothes on a chair then walked into the bathroom.

There was a pair of white panties with a stained crotch, draped over the toilet seat. He picked up her underwear and held the damp crotch to his nose, inhaling the woman’s strong musky cunt odor. Oh God, he whispered to himself. The smell of the woman’s cunt captured his mind.

His cock stood so hard; he didn’t dare touch himself. It had been so long since he had been punished by a woman. He walked over, through the archway into the dining room with the crotch of her panties in his mouth, aware she was sitting there waiting for him.

Vivian stepped forward to meet him, holding the wooden spoon. She had removed the blouse and skirt and stood naked except for her black stockings and shoes. She hurried to confront him. “Elliot, what do you think you’re doing with my soiled panties?” she asked in a harsh tone, sounding much like an angry parent. She had used the same words from the first time she punished his cock, years ago. “Are you smelling my panties?” she asked, aware of how humiliating this was for him.

He shook his head. “Oh no, Miss, I wasn’t….”

“No! You weren’t?” she interrupted. “You have them in your mouth! You filthy pig!”

She stood there, striking her thigh with the wooden spoon. “Come over here, and hold that cock out!” she said, grabbing his cock, and pulling him closer. He stood so close to her; her mouth touched his face as she berated him.

“Put your hands behind your back, and your cock on the table, you filthy man!”

“Yes Miss,” he nodded, stepping against the dining room table.

She slapped his ass hard with the spoon then as he arched forward, she struck the wooden spoon down hard on his cock.

“Ahh,” he screamed. “Please don’t, Miss.”

“We’ll see if I can’t teach you to respect a woman’s privacy.”

By the third stroke of the wooden spoon, his cock was already erupting gobs of cum onto her table.

After he ejaculated, he sank to his knees, whimpering with his head down, his hands cradling his sore cock. His face was resting against her bare thighs. Elliot could smell the musky odor coming from between her legs.

He watched, as Vivian used the wooden spoon to scrape his cum from the table. She put the cum filled spoon to her mouth, tasting it, then taking her time, she carefully licked it clean.

After she was finished licking the spoon, she looked down at him. “I like to do that,” she said, “especially if you watch me. Do you like that? ” she asked.

“Yes,” he groaned, still holding his cock.

Vivian shook her head, making a sad face. “I’m sorry. I was too hard on you,” she frowned, putting her hand on the back of his head, pressing his face against her thigh. “Easy,” she whispered.

“No,” he shook his head looking up at her. “I wanted it. I needed that so much.”

She glanced around, looking for the chair, then stepped back, and sat down. She lifted one long leg over the arm of the chair, brazenly spreading herself open. She patted her thigh. “Come over here. Rest your head,” she said.

Still, on his knees, Elliot twisted his body closer, then snuggled his cheek against her soft inner thigh, laying his head so that his lips were touching her cunt. “You knew that was why I came here,” he said.

She put her hand behind his head, pulling his mouth against her cunt. “Umm,” she groaned. She leaned over looking at him. “I like doing it. It excites me,” she confessed. Her face turned a little red, as she glanced down, “I used to whip your Uncle William once a month,” she sighed, “and I miss him. Laying her head back, looking up at the ceiling, she asked, “Elliot, will you fuck me later?”

He glanced up, with a quizzical expression on his face.

She rubbed his head. “It’s okay, I’ve changed my mind since William died, and your mom has passed,” she nodded her head. “We aren’t blood relatives, Elliot. I married your mom’s brother William. I don’t feel the same about it.”

He rubbed his face into the crease of her thighs. “You smell so good,” he said.

“I’m filthy. I need a bath,” she laughed.

“Please don’t” he whispered. He buried his face deeper, using his tongue to spread her cunt lips, then turned his mouth back to the crease of her thighs, licking her.

“That feels good,” she moaned. “I’d like you to stay here with me. Until you find a place of your own,” she added. “You can sleep in my bed,” she said making eye contact with him. “I’ll do anything you want,” she said, “just fuck me.”

That night before they went to bed, Vivan had undressed and was in the bathroom running water into a large oval bathtub when he walked in. “I want to wash up,” she said. “Just give me a few minutes.”

Elliot shook his head. “Please don’t,” he frowned. “Turn off the water.” He took her hand and pulled her over to the bed. “Please, Vivian. I want to worship your body. Will you let me? ” he asked.

She followed him to the bed. Nodding her head yes. She smiled, “but I’m not clean, is that what you want?”

Elliot, nodded, asking her to lie flat on her back, arms over her head, her legs spread apart. He turned the light down low, and for a long time, he crawled around on the bed, licking and tasting her. He started with her mouth, sucking her lips, then sucking her tongue in and out of his mouth. He worked his tongue into her ears, then slowly licked his way down her neck to her shoulders then to her armpits. He worked his mouth under each of her breasts, and over her nipples, then slid down in the bed to lick the woman’s feet and between her toes. Elliot slowly licked his way up her legs and then concentrated his attention on the sweaty creases of her thighs, using his tongue to lick her cunt lips apart, trying to nurse on her clitoris.

Elliot’s voice was shaking with excitement when he asked her, “Please get on your knees and put your head down.”

Vivian knew he was in subspace and what he wanted. She touched his arm, “But,” she said, with an embarrassed smile, hesitating, giving him a chance to change his mind. “Please?” he whispered.

.

“Ummm,” she said, with an arrogant frown. “Elliot! I want your tongue up my ass,” she growled at him as she rolled over. “Do you understand? I want you to lick my asshole clean!” she said in a nasty tone. Vivian faced away from him getting on her knees and putting her head down. She raised her behind up for him. “Now you get your face in there, or I’ll beat your cock!”

“Yes Miss,” he answered her in a servile tone. “I’ll do whatever you want, Miss.”

She felt his hands spread her cheeks wide and put his mouth to her, his tongue licking her, his teeth gently gnawing on her anal bud. Elliot forced the tip of his tongue inside of her. He could feel the woman squeezing her sphincter muscles, grasping, holding his tongue fast.

“Ummm, I love that,” she said with a soft moan.

For a long while Elliot worked his tongue on the crease of her behind, then lowered his mouth touching her cunt lips. “Please roll over,” he whispered.

Vivian stretched out and rolled over on the bed, spreading her legs for him. She arched her body up into his face. “Eat it,” she grunted. She could feel his tongue working on her clitoris, while he worked his finger back and forth inside of her. He kept gently sucking and licking her clitoris until he felt her body stiffen. As she arched her body and groaned, he worked his tongue around the base of her miniature cock. Vivian put her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the sound of her moaning. Elliot buried his face tight against her, gnawing on her engorged clitoris, then licked his way further up her body until he was kissing her mouth. He took hold of her wrists and forcibly stretched her arms above her head, holding her fast while grinding his hips into her, just as though he was raping her.

He used his weight to force her legs further apart, then let go of her arm, and put his mouth against hers. “Put it in,” he said, speaking his words into her mouth. Vivan’s hand found his hard cock and guided it to the entrance of her cunt rubbing the head against her cunt lips, slowly lubricating his cock head with the wetness from her cunt. “I want to fuck you,” he said, “Take it in the cunt,” he said in a harsh tone of voice while he used his hips to drive his cock deep inside of her.

“Uh, Ahhhh,” she grunted as she took the cock.

“Did I hurt you?” he whispered.

“Yes, I want you to,” she said, biting her lip as she spoke.

He put his mouth to hers and took her tongue into his mouth, sucking it as he drove his cock slowly in and out of her. With each thrust, as he went into her, he drove his cock a little deeper inside of her.

Vivian was grunting as his cock went deep. She spread herself wider, thrusting her hips against his, “Fuck me. Fuck me!” she was panting her words. She was twisting and moaning, “Fuck me! Fuck my cunt.” Vivian groaned. Elliot felt the woman’s body shivering against him. Vivian started to make rhythmic grunting sounds. “Give it to me. Give it to me. Give it to me.” she was panting.

“Take the cock,” Elliot said, as he pulled her tight against him, thrusting hard, hurting her as he came inside of her.

“Uhh, uhh, ohhhh, ummm,” she moaned, biting her lip as she came.

For a long moment, Elliot lay on top of her, quietly breathing hard, neither of them speaking.

When he rolled off of her, he put his hand to her cunt, feeling her, then put his mouth to her ear. “I want to eat you. Will you sit on my face?” he asked.

She looked at him, with her expression asking him.

“Please,” he asked.

She rolled over and threw her leg over his head, kneeling and straddling his face. The older woman lowered herself, settling her weight on his face, rubbing her wet messy cunt over his mouth.

She reached forward, holding the backboard of the bed while she fucked his face. “Eat your cum,” she ordered, grinding her hips back and forth over his face. “You suck my cunt clean,” she demanded.

After she felt he had had enough of tasting and licking her, she rolled over, lifting herself off of Elliot’s face. Vivian lay beside him, her face against his chest. “I did that with William all of the time,” she said. “He loved to eat his cum out of me.” She hesitated, then leaned over and licked Elliot’s mouth, sucking his tongue. She raised, on one elbow, resting her chin on her hand. She looked at him, with a little grin, “His, and other men’s cum.”

Elliot looked at her with a questioning grin.

Vivian sat up straight. “Yes, he liked to be cuckolded,” she nodded. “Once every couple of months, he’d help me dress like a whore,” she smiled, “sometimes in the same clothes I wore tonite. He’d drive me about 20 miles away and drop me at a nice clean bar we knew,” she added, “and without any money. He’d give me a kiss and say, I guess you have to earn your way home.”

Elliot Gave her a little frown, “Did you like that?” he asked.

“Umm, we did it maybe five or six times a year, and yeah, most of the time I loved it.”

“He liked to take me shopping, looking for sexy clothes. We called them my whore clothes.”

She smiled at Elliot, nodding her chin. “A couple of mornings when I came home, I was covered with semen. When I undressed, my bra would stick to me, I had cum all over me, my breasts, even my hair, and face.” Vivian looked at Elliot, nodding, “and he liked that.”

“The first thing I did was go in the kitchen and get the wooden spoon, then make him bend over our dining room table.

Vivian slid down and took Elliot’s cock in her mouth then looked up at him. “After I beat him, I’d lay naked in bed and make him lick me clean.” She looked at him, “I can do that for you if you want,” she said.

Elliot looked at her, “I’m not sure,” he said.

“Let’s try it one day,” she said. “Maybe you’ll like it.”

A few weeks later, as they sat at the breakfast table talking, Elliot started to tell her about his life in the Army and all of the different places in the world he had been. As the days went by, maybe a few weeks later he told her about the time he was stationed in Berlin, and maybe a week or so after that, he just happened to mention a woman he used to know there. As the weeks turned into months, every now and then Elliot would tell Vivian something new about Elizabeth.

One evening, after he had been living with her for a while, they were lying in bed, Elliot was reading, and Vivian had her head resting on his shoulder. She pushed his book aside. “You know you have to go back,” she said kissing his shoulder. “So, what if it’s a waste of a week or two, trying to find her? You know you’ll never be happy if you don’t try,” she said. Vivian slid her body down lower in the bed. She took his soft cock and put it in her mouth, gently nursing it. After a minute, she took his cock out of her mouth and looked up at him. “I’m serious, I want you to,” she said putting his cock back in her mouth gently sucking on him, nursing on it until he was hard, then she bit down hard on it.

He shuddered, “Ahh, that hurts. Please don’t,” he panted.

Vivian looked up at him. “Oh…but I want to hurt you. I want that woman’s name out of my house,” she said, then holding him by his balls, she slowly began biting her teeth down hard on his cock, chewing the cock harder and harder until he was begging her to stop, but by that time he was cumming in her mouth.

A month or so later, they were sitting at a table in a nice bar she knew, maybe 20 miles away from her house. Vivian slid a Saturn Airways brochure across the table. “I want you to take the car and go home now. You get undressed and sit in the dining room. You can take your time looking over this and find a flight to Berlin. I’ll pay for your ticket,” she said. “I’ll be home in a few hours.”

He didn’t look at the brochure that night or the next, but within a few weeks, they both did, and she paid for his ticket. It was the middle of October 1966, just a little over a year since he was discharged, and moved in with her that they were both standing in line at the Saturn gate in JFK airport. Aunt Vivian threw her arms around him, kissing him. “I love you, Elliot. I pray you never find that whore,” she sobbed. “Please come back.”

Chapter 3

It was in the fall of 1966

“The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

It was late in October of 1966 when Elliot’s plane landed at Tegel airport in Berlin. The first thing he did after clearing customs, was to take a taxi to their old apartment on Goerzallee and after that he visited a realtor, looking for an apartment. It was a week after that, late in the afternoon, he got on a streetcar and headed to the old bar on Haupt Strasse where he first met Liz.

As his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit bar, Elliot saw a woman sitting alone in a corner booth, a cigarette in her hand, an empty glass in front of her. She was the reason he came back to Berlin.

Elliot felt good, it was everything he wanted, being back in Berlin and seeing Liz sitting there at the same bar where he first met her, so many years ago. He stepped quickly to her table, smiling down at her. “Hi, Liz! Do you remember an old friend?” he asked, his hand half shielding his face, feigning fear as though she might be angry.

Liz looked at him and her eyes lit up as she stepped out from behind the table. She raised her eyebrows with a confused expression on her face. “Bis das du, Elliot?” she screamed, stepping close, pressing her body against his. She put her arms around his neck rubbing her hips hard into his.

He wasn’t the young soldier Liz remembered, but he still looked good. His crew-cut hair was now flecked with gray, his blue eyes set a little deeper and his tan weathered face was creased with a few wrinkles, but he was still a lean, square-shouldered, handsome man.

“Komm her, Junge!” she said in a harsh German tone, mashing her mouth on his, pushing her tongue to his lips. “Open,” she whispered, working her tongue and her spit into his mouth. “Welcome home GI!”

“Damn Liz, I’m glad to see you,” he said, sucking on her tongue, tasting her mouth. Elliot slid his hands down, fondling her ass cheeks, lifting and pulling her up against him.

“Umm” she grunted, shivering her body against his, “I want that,” she said.

“Come come,” she panted, grabbing his arm, and pulling him into the booth. She pushed him in. “Sit on the inside,” she said. She was rubbing his thigh, with her eyes focused on the bump in his pants. “Umm, I see he is glad to see me,” she said, pinching the cock head through his pants, then stopped, and stared at him for a moment. She tilted her head up with a quizzical expression, “You are stationed back in Berlin?” she asked.

Elliot put his arm around her, pulling her close. “No, Liz. I pulled the pin. I’m retired, out of the Army,” he said. “I have an apartment over on Uhland Strasse.” he smiled, “Nice place, two bedrooms a living room, kitchen, and full bath,” he said, glancing around, looking for the waitress. “Third floor, with an elevator and central heat. I’m going to be here for a while,” he added. “I’ve been back for almost a week,” he said, putting his hand on hers, and pushing it down on his cock. “God, I’ve missed you,” he grinned.

She looked up at him, feigning a frown, “A week, and you just come to see me now,” she pouted, slapping the front of his pants. “Are you married?” she asked.

“No,” he frowned, then smiling at her, he shook his head, “I’m all alone. I came back looking for you Liz. I stopped by our old place on Goerzallee,” he said, his tone almost apologetic. “I wasn’t even sure you were still in Berlin.”

She toyed with the front of his pants, “Ja Ja, I’m still here,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “Nothing has changed, for me, except maybe we both get a little older.” She lifted her hand from his pants and sat back on the bench taking a breath. Liz closed her eyes for a moment, then stared at him. “Buy me a drink, GI,” she said.

“Sure, Liz.” He waved toward the waitress. He put his hand on her thigh. “I’ve thought about you so often,” he said, taking her hand, and kissing her fingertips. He put her middle finger to his lips and sucked it like a nipple.

Liz smiled, her eyes gleaming, “Umm that was a long time ago. We were young,” she mused. “They were good days. No?” she grinned.

She took her hand back and spit on her forefinger. She lifted her chin, gesturing for him to open his mouth. She pushed her finger back into Elliot’s mouth, moving it back and forth. “Suck it like a cock,” she said in a harsh tone, her voice deeper. Her hand went back to his pants, finding the zipper, as the shadow of the barmaid darkened their table.

An older heavy-set woman wearing a white apron over an ankle-length skirt stood there. She had a round face and a flat pig’s nose, squinting eyes, and heavy breasts that stretched a white starched blouse to its limit.

Liz moved her hand away, giving the woman an obligatory smile. “Inga,” she said, then tilted her head towards Elliot. “Mein Freund, Elliot.”

The waitress grunted, with a bored expression. She took out a small pad, waiting.

“We won’t need cognac. I’ve had enough,” she said to Elliot. “Zwei Kaffee bitte Inga.”

“Und Meine Barrechnung, bitte?” she added, looking at Elliot, her eyes asking if he would pay her bar tab.

He nodded.

As the waitress walked away, she waved her hand for him to sit back. Liz pulled his zipper down and looked at his cock. “You’re hard,” she said, spreading his pants open wider. She worked his cock free, twisting it, and pinching the cock head. “Would you like me to go to Uhland Strasse with you tonight,” she asked.

“Umm,” he moaned. His eyes closed, and his body stiffened as she toyed with the cock. “Yes,” he smiled, “I want that very much, but I want more Liz,” he said glancing down at her hand masturbating him. “Are you living with anyone?” he asked.

Liz smiled at him, then shook her head. “No,” she answered with a laugh, “not with anyone that matters.”

Elliot glanced around at the empty bar, then made eye contact with her again. “I was hoping you might stay with me for a while.” He hesitated, “I want you to move in with me. You know, live with me.” he said, but his voice sounded nervous like he was unsure of himself. “You can come and go as you please. Maybe, just like we used to,” he added. “That’s why I’m here Liz. You’re why I came back to Berlin.”

Liz frowned, then laughed. “Live with you again?” she asked, looking at him quizzically. “You mean to stay with you for a couple of weeks while you are here?” she asked.

“No, Liz, I mean I want to live in Berlin. Stay here and live with you if you will, that’s what I want.”

Liz smiled at him, “Umm,” she nodded.

Elizabeth by now was almost 50 years old and living in a one-room apartment with a kitchen and bath she shared with three other people. There were months, she had to ask her landlord if she could suck his cock for a discount when her rent was due. She had eighty Deutsche Marks in her pocket and two hundred and twenty more Marks hidden in a book in her closet and that was the extent of her finances. The thought of moving into a four-room apartment in the Wilmersdorf section of Berlin with anyone sounded good to Liz.

“I would like to do that,” she said, hesitating. “But you know that would mean…” she hesitated, “I would have to give up my apartment, and” she started but didn’t finish.

Elliot leaned closer, interrupting her. “Yeah, I know Liz, I talked to my landlord on Uhland Strasse. The guy said he’d give me a one or two-year lease. I’m sure I can ask him to put the lease in your name, as long as I guarantee the money,” he said, “so if you’re not happy, you can throw me out,” he frowned, shaking his head. “No that wouldn’t work,” he laughed, “but really, you will have a nice place to live. Would that make you feel better?”

“Ja, we can talk about that.” she shrugged, giving Elliot a reassuring smile, then offered him a mock frown. “Maybe you are looking for a woman to clean and make the bed for you?” she asked with a fake frown, then slid back from him, toying with his cock. She thought for a moment, then looked up and put her face so close to his that their lips touched. She shook her head. “No Young Man, I don’t think that’s what you are looking for,” she said with a very serious look on her face. “I think this is what you are here for,” she said putting her head down. Liz blew her warm breath onto his cock then took it into her mouth and bit down hard.

“Oh God, that hurt!” he moaned.

Liz sat up and put her mouth to his ear. “Shut up!” she whispered in a harsh tone. “If I move in with you, I will chew your cock whenever I want.” She slid closer to him, crowding him, then lifted her arm and rested her elbow on the bench top behind his head, with her open underarm close to his face. “Smell me,” she said.

Elliot leaned closer, putting his face against her, smelling her, putting his mouth to her armpit. He gently kissed the soft flesh, licking her sweat. The last time Liz had washed was three days ago, when she had arrived at the hotel with the Lance Corporal. Liz was in Elliot’s mind, deliciously ripe, just as he had dreamed about so often over the years.

Liz leaned her head back frowning at him. “You were told to smell me!” she said. She put her hand back down and squeezed his cock, her voice more assertive, “I did not give you permission to lick me.” she added in a harsh arrogant tone. “I think you need to be whipped!” she said, pushing his face hard into her armpit, rubbing her underarm into his face. Liz rested her hand on his pants, slowly squeezing his cock, pinching the cock head, digging her fingernails into the sensitive flesh, hurting him. “Do you like what you smell?” she asked. She could see he was slipping into subspace.

“It’s been so long,” he said, moaning his words against her armpit.

Liz rubbed the inside of her thigh, sliding her dress up, and exposing her panties. She spread her legs apart. “I’ve been busy,” she whispered, as though it was secret. “I haven’t had a bath in three days,” she said, shaking her head with an innocent smile, “and I’m filthy. I should make you get down on your knees, under the table, and lick my cunt! she said. “Would you like that,” she asked.

He nodded, leaning forward. “Yes, Mistress. Please, may I?” he asked, setting his arms to support his weight as he started to kneel.

She glanced around, looking for the waitress, shaking her head, “No! No, you can’t!” she frowned at him. She smiled, thinking to herself, yes, of course, you would, you stupid painslut! You would get down on your knees, on this filthy floor with your good pants, and eat me right here in the bar if I would let you.

She shook her head. “Just put your face down in my lap, and smell me,” she said.

Elliot slid back away from her, then lowered his face down until his face rested on her bare thighs.

He rubbed his mouth against her. “Umm, I love the way you smell, Miss,” he said, his voice cracking. “I want to eat you now!” he panted.

“You will eat me when I tell you to!” she said, tilting her head, then with a little laugh, “I’ll sit on your face when we get to Uhland Strasse,” she offered. “You used to like that.

“I miss that so much,” he said, nodding his head.

“I think tonight, I will make you sleep with your face between my legs tonight?” she said teasing him.

Elliot could feel her words touching him like they were soft fingers, caressing his cock. “Will you let me?” he asked, his voice shivering with pleasure.

He sat up and put his mouth to her armpit, rubbing his face into her soft warm flesh, licking her sweat, while his fingers rubbed the crotch of her panties. “I want to put my tongue in you,” he said, his voice quivering with excitement.

She glanced down, looking between her legs, then slid her panties aside, exposing her cunt.

“Umm,” she said. “My cunt is filthy. I will make you lick it clean,” she said with a mocking grin.

He put his hand to her cuntlips, and slipped his finger inside of her, touching the nub of her clitoris.

“Ohh,” Liz whimpered, twisting her body with a jerking motion, panting out as she felt his touch.

“I always liked that,” she moaned, “Maybe you remember?”

“He nodded, “You’re dripping wet.”

“I’ve been working.” She laughed. “Be quiet, lick your fingers!” she ordered.

She leaned back, watching him licking his fingers. “I’m filthy. Do you like the way I taste?” she asked, crinkling her nose, then pushing him away. She tilted her head, giving him an arrogant smile. “Do you remember how you used to get down on your knees and beg me, to let you lick me when I came home from work,” she asked with a mocking tone to her voice. “And my cunt was so filthy,” she smiled, “and you wanted to lick it,” she added, frowning as though the thought disgusted her, but she knew how much he enjoyed hearing her say those words.

“Is that something you would still want?” she asked in a derisive tone.

“Yes, Miss. I want that very much,” he whispered without making eye contact.

She pinched the head of his penis hard, then looked at him with a serious expression on her face. She took his chin in her hand, guiding his face to look into her eyes. “Look at me, Elliot! Do you know what I do?” she asked, staring at him, her expression stern, her eyes holding his.

Elliot shook his head no. “I don’t know, Miss. I just remember you had been working.”

She laughed, twisting his cock hard, hurting him. “Working? And what kind of work do you think that was,” she asked shaking her head with a smirk on her face. “Do you think I was selling apples on the street corner?” she asked, intentionally embarrassing him.

Liz wasn’t sure if Elliot wanted to be cuckolded, and made to lick her clean after, or if he just enjoyed the fantasy of the thought. She had several clients who enjoyed talking about it but would be turned off if they had to lick up another man’s semen.

Elliot looked away and shrugged but didn’t answer.

“I asked you a question Young Man,” she said in a loud tone of voice that made the waitress glance their way.

He didn’t answer. He buried his face into her underarm. “I don’t know, whatever you do is your business,” he said. “Please Liz, will you live with me?” he asked.

“Umm,” she nodded, “Yes, but you realize, sometimes I’m busy with my work. I have clients who require my services.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to lose them. That’s how I support myself, and,” she hesitated, thinking, then added, “don’t forget, you walked out on me before!” she said in a harsh tone, reminding him. Liz bent her head forward, staring at him, waiting for him to respond to her candor.

Elliot let his head hang and wouldn’t look up at her. “I’m sorry.”

“Yes, you are sorry…” Liz started to scold him, then hesitated, she didn’t want to lose him. Her voice changed to a more conciliatory tone. “You realize, I won’t always be home and on occasion, I may be away all night,” she sighed, “and when I do come home, I will be so filthy!” she reminded him, using her words like a carrot, dangling on a string. “That’s the nature of my work,” she added, hesitating, holding her finger up to his face, “and you can’t interfere.”

Elliot looked up facing Liz. “No! Of course not,” he said shaking his head. “I wouldn’t,” he nodded, “I promise.” He sat up straight, making eye contact. “If you live with me, you won’t need to work,” he said in a sincere tone. “Or you could still see a few of the clients you like and only when you want to see them.” He glanced down, looking at her bare thighs. “Whatever you want to do. I’ll buy you clothes for your work if that’s something you would want.”

“Umm. Nice,” Liz nodded, but she was unsure why he had added the caveat, she could still see a few clients, and he would buy her clothes. Was it because he thought that was something she would want, or was that something he wanted her to do? But either way, Liz liked that. She had a few wealthy clients that paid her well for her services and she didn’t want to lose them.

She took his chin in her hand, turning his face so his eyes were on hers. “But when I do work, and I come home,” her tone of voice changed. “I will expect you to be waiting for permission to get down on your knees and lick me clean. Will that be a problem?” she asked in an arrogant tone, confident that that was exactly what he wanted to hear.

“No Miss, I want to do that.” Elliot lifted her hand to his face, kissing the back of her hand. He looked at her. “You know I’ll do whatever you say.”

“Yes,” she smiled, I think you will, she thought staring at him, without any expression on her face. Liz was thinking back, remembering the one time she had allowed him to perform oral sex on her when her vagina was still soiled with the cum from her customers. It was in 1950 when they lived on Goerzallee, and he was on orders for Korea.

Chapter 4

It was in the fall of 1950, just a few days before he shipped out for Korea.

“Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it.”

It was the only time Liz had allowed him to service her orally while she was still wet with cum from a customer. It had been a very busy day for her, and she was late. Elliot was already at home, sitting naked in the chair, waiting. As Liz undressed, she put her nose to her armpit, smelling herself, then crinkled up her nose. “Eww, I’m ripe,” she said, giving him a mock frown. “I’ve been busy today. Stand up!” she said.

She grabbed his cock, pulling him close and putting her mouth to his, “Open,” she ordered, kissing him, and spitting her saliva into his mouth.

Elliot held her face tight to his, nursing on her tongue like it was a nipple, “Please, more,” he whispered.

She pulled away, smiling at him, “Do I taste good?” she asked, grinning, moving her mouth in an animated way, gathering her saliva as she removed her bra.

Open, she mouthed the word without speaking.

He tilted his head, putting his open mouth against her lips.

Liz held the back of his head while she squirted her spit into his mouth.

“Thank you, Miss,” he answered, panting his words, using the respectful title of Miss, hoping she would dominate him.

She lifted her arm for him, “Come, give me your nose. Smell me!” she demanded, putting her hand on his head guiding his face down, and pushing it hard, into her armpit. “I stink,” she sneered, holding his face, and rubbing it into her sweaty armpit, well aware that smelling her would send waves of sexual pleasure quivering through his body.

He whispered into her armpit, “I love you.” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Yes, you fucking idiot, you love me, but you love war more,” she said, pushing his face harder into the soft underarm flesh.

“I do love you, Liz.”

“Shut up,” she said, “Do want to lick my cunt for me?” she asked.

He looked at her, the smell and taste of her body made his knees weak. “Yes,” he shook his head. “I want to eat you. Please let me,” he whispered.

“Umm, I want that,” she said, sitting down, and sliding her panties off. She was naked but still wearing her heavy boots. Liz looked at her panties, and as she expected, the crotch was thick with the cum from her last customer. Liz didn’t always use a condom depending on the man and if they would pay more. On those occasions, she normally would have douched to clean herself before allowing Elliot to lick her cunt. “Maybe this time, I should wash between my legs first,” she added, taunting him. “I want you to know, I have been working,” she added.

“Please don’t,” he begged.

“But I’m filthy today,” she said, making eye contact with him. Liz knew it wasn’t uncommon for submissive men to get sexual pleasure from the humiliation of being forced to perform oral sex on a Mistress right after she had unprotected sex with another man. Liz had several clients who paid her extra for that delicacy and she always thought that that was something Elliot wanted but she wasn’t sure. Liz couldn’t take the chance of losing him, but now she knew Elliot was leaving Berlin soon, and she had nothing to lose.

Liz stood up and stepped close to him. “Show me you want to!” she demanded, handing him her soiled panties, holding open the sodden wet crotch. “Lick them!” she said in a demanding tone.

Elliot stared at the thick wet coating on the crotch of her panties. He hesitated, shaking his head no, but not speaking.

Your first time, she thought. Liz took hold of his ear, pulling his face close to her mouth. “But what if I insist?” she smiled, her tone harsh like that of an angry parent. Her lips touched his face as she spoke. “You do what you’re told to do,” she said, in a snarling tone, then added, “or do you want me to tie you to the table and whip you until you are crying like a little cunt!” Liz opened the panties and held the wet crotch to his face, then tilted her head. “Now open your mouth!” she said.

Elliot nodded meekly, “Yes Miss.”

Liz shoved the soiled crotch into his mouth, tucking it in tightly. “Now you chew on them!” she said as she stepped over to the chair.

Elliots let his head hang down. He nodded, “Yes Miss, of course,” he said in a muffled tone, chewing her panties. “I’ll do anything you want me to, but please don’t whip me,” he begged.

Pointing to the floor, “Get down on your knees!” she said.

Elliot nodded, “Yes Miss.” He quickly knelt, his eyes staring at her cunt. He looked up at her with her panties hanging out of his mouth. “Please Miss, may I lick you,” he mumbled. The strong musky odor coming from between her legs held the young man’s mind captive.

As she sat down, she jerked the panties out of his mouth and slapped him across the face with them. Liz spread her legs apart, and using her fingers, she pulled her sticky wet cunt lips apart for him to see. “Look at it and beg me for it.”

He pressed his mouth against her, sucking her nether lips, working his tongue inside of her. “I love the taste of you,” he mumbled, his mouth pressed to the lips, then stopped. He hesitated, looking up at her. “Miss…” he stuttered. “Have…Have you been fucking someone?” he asked in a feeble tone.

She pushed his forehead back, forcing his face from between her legs. “Well Young man is that any of your business?” she asked, her tone of voice cold, arrogant.

Elliot shuddered, as he felt a twinge of pleasure run through him, “No Miss, I’m sorry, of course not,” he apologized, his voice cracking.

A Little smile crossed her face, “Then I suggest you get back to licking me clean,” she frowned, “unless you want me to drag you out to the courtyard naked and whip you in front of the cleaning women,” she threatened. “Would you like that?” she asked, then smiled to herself because she knew, yes, he would like that.

Elliot looked up at her, shaking his head, “Please don’t do that Miss,” he answered submissively, “I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll lick you clean.”

She felt His mouth burrowing into her soft fleshy cunt lips, sucking, gently chewing, using his tongue to spread the fleshy lips so he could taste deep inside of her. She felt his tongue working, licking the wetness that was oozing from her. She knew he was trying to suck the cum from inside of her. Yes, she thought, you do want to eat their cum. She opened her legs wider and locked her hand behind his head, pulling his face into her. “Get your tongue in deeper Young Man,” she scolded. “Clean me out.”

He wrapped his arms under her legs and around her behind, physically pulling her onto his face, spreading her, orally servicing her. He was sucking as if he was a thirsty man trying to drink the last few drops from inside of her.

Liz was moaning, making soft whimpering sounds. He felt her body stiffen as his tongue licked the sensitive nerve endings of her swollen female bud. The smell of her was strong harsh and intoxicating for him. Elliot’s tongue worked between her cunt lips, tasting as deep inside of her as his tongue could reach. The odor of her cunt was an opiate Elliot adored and worshipped. For a long time, he continued, his tongue working inside of her.

He felt her body tighten as his tongue touched her swollen clitoris. “Easy, slowly. Yes, there….lower..do-o-don’t stop, don’t stop. ” Liz groaned, her words strained, distorted by the sensations of pleasure she was feeling. “Yes there…do it, don’t stop. Do it! Tongue fuck me….,” she screamed.

Elliot’s face and cheeks were coated with her delicious glaze as he gently nursed on her swollen clit, slipping it in and out of his mouth like a miniature cock. He locked his hands behind her so she couldn’t escape his tongue.

Liz groaned, putting her hands on his head and trying to push his face away, then thrusting her hips against his face, wanting it, slowly fucking his mouth. She was panting deep guttural sounds, “Fick Mich, Fick Mich, Fick Mich” Her body was shaking as she tried to push his face away, twisting her legs, squirming to resist the tongue, the ecstasy too much for her. His mouth was pressed hard on her cunt lips fighting to keep his tongue inside of her. She tightened her legs around his head, arching her body, thrusting hard, moaning, pulling his face to her, then a long sigh.

Liz sat back, rubbing his head, she looked down at Elliot’s wet glazed face resting between her legs. “So, the young man is hungry for what’s in my cunt,” she sneered pushing his face away. She put her feet down and stood up, forcing him backward until he fell on the floor. “Stay there, and open your mouth,” she said in an insolent tone. Liz stepped over to the dresser and opened the drawer. She took out a rubber bulb douche and held it up for him to see. “You want to eat what I have in my cunt?” she asked. Without answering, Elliot watched as she squeezed the bulb filling it with water. “I’ll give the young man what he wants,” she nodded. She stood over him straddling his face, looking down. As she squatted, he watched her insert the douche nozzle into her cunt and squeeze it as she quickly sat on his face, settling, fitting her cunt over his mouth.

Liz thought back, yes, she had forced him. “Drink from my cunt,” she had growled at him, “and you will lick up whatever spills on the floor,” Liz remembered that night from so many years ago. She had forced Elliot to drink her douche water and she remembered, how fervently he licked the floor after she stood up from sitting on his face. But that was a long time ago, back in 1950, when he was on orders for Korea…

Chapter 5

It was now in the fall of 1966

“Said the spider to the fly.”

But now in 1966, it was a different situation for Liz with Elliot back, there were other things for her to consider. Liz looked up and saw Inga coming and twisted away from him putting her arm down, “I will tell you what you want.” she answered. “Sit up, your coffee is here,” she said sharply. Feigning a sad face, she tucked his cock back into his pants and brusquely pushed his hand away from between her legs and pulled her dress down. “You will do that later with your tongue.”

The waitress put the two coffees down and a slip of paper, then raised her chin glancing at Liz.

Elliot reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He pushed it toward Liz. “Please pay her?” he asked, glancing at his wallet, “and will you carry it for me? Like you used to.”

“Umm,” she said, picking up the bill, and nodding toward Inga. “Seventy Deutsche Marks, Yes, that’s right.” Liz picked up the wallet and took out eighty Deutsch Marks. She handed the money to the woman. Liz knew the bill was a little more than she owed but she also knew Inga would later give her back the difference or close to it. The waitress, without bothering to make eye contact, dropped the ten Marks change on the table. Liz shoved the ten Deutsche Mark bill toward Inga, “Stimmt so,” she smiled.

The waitress grunted a “Danke” at Liz as she walked away.

Liz knew giving Inga a tip would ensure that she’d turn her back to their booth. Liz sat back, and pulled the loose underarm of her dress aside, allowing a sagging breast to fall free. She cupped the back of his head to her side as she lifted the heavy dark nippled breast to his mouth. “Chew me,” she said.

She felt Elliot’s mouth sucking and his teeth grinding into her nipple. The biting did hurt but nipple pain excited her. Liz wanted to fuck, but that wasn’t going to happen, at least not tonight.

Anthony, the British fellow use to tie her breasts with a cord, wrapping the base of the breast tight until the heavy breasts were squeezed into a tight engorged sack that hung from her chest like purple fruit hanging by a thick stem. He would hold her hands behind her back while he chewed down hard on her nipples and Liz let him do it because the nipple pain along with his finger in her cunt, would give her an intense orgasm.

She held Elliot’s head squeezing his face against her breast, “Chew harder,” she whispered a soft moan into his ear. Her fingers worked on the top button opening his pants. She folded the material back pulling his cock free.

“Ummm,” he moaned, catching his breath when he felt her hands on his penis. She could hear his soft moans of pleasure as her fingers closed, holding the throbbing phallus, squeezing it hard.

She lifted his face from her nipple, and spoke without looking at him, “You are too excited,” she said, “When was the last time you were fucked?” she asked, shaking her head frowning. “You are stupid. You are so excited you will cum in the taxi,” she said. She lifted her breast back into her dress, then slid back from him and lowered her head to his lap. As her lips went over the cock head, Elliot let out a loud moan, putting his hands on her head and pushing her face down, thrusting his hips upward, forcing the cock deep into her mouth, not that that bothered her. Liz was accustomed to being fucked in her mouth. She raised her head a little, glancing up, “Shh,” she whispered, “Easy Junge.”

Liz licked the head of his cock, nibbling on it. He was pumping his hips while pushing her head down, face fucking her, but Liz was in control. She knew everything about sucking cock, and how to delay the man from ejaculating if that was what she wanted, but it wasn’t. Liz wanted to go to Uhland Strasse, and she knew Elliot was hanging by a thread. Her tongue found the soft underside of his cock, where it was most sensitive, and she started to lick while moving her head up and down and then Elliot wasn’t able to stop.

She felt his cock throbbing, his body tense then writhing as his muscles tightened. She heard him trying to stifle his groans and felt his cum gush into her mouth. Liz continued caressing the cock head with her tongue, giving the sensitive cockhead no respite from the extreme pleasure. Still sucking the cock head, Liz took the cock in her hand and milked out the last few drops of cum into her mouth. Each touch of her tongue sent tremors through his body.

For a while, she gnawed the cock head, then patted his leg as she sat up. Liz stared at him with a funny mouthful smile on her face. Elliot didn’t speak as she continued to stare at him. He watched as Liz grinned, staring at his cup, until he lowered his eyes and nodded, “Yes Miss.”

Elliot slid the cup over in front of her and then watched, as she leaned over, her eyes locked on his, Liz spit her mouthful of cum and saliva into his cup. She tilted her head up, smiling at him. as she used her finger to clean a bit of spittle from her lip and wipe it on the rim of his cup. Liz picked up her cup and sipped some coffee. She shook her head, making it obvious to him, she was rinsing her mouth then leaned over and spit into his cup. Liz sat up straight. She picked up the change that was still on the table and put it in his wallet, then sat back holding her cup in her two hands. She looked at him. “Drink your coffee!”

Elliot pulled his cup over to him, then lifted it to his mouth.

Liz smiled, “Sip it so you get the cream,” she said.

“Yes Miss,” he answered.

“Umm, I think maybe the little slut likes that,” she laughed at him. “We will do that more often.”

“Yes, Miss,” he nodded, drinking his coffee. “Will you carry the money?”

“Ja, of course,” she answered, taking the wallet and putting it in her pocketbook. “Now finish your coffee so we can leave for Uhland Strasse,” she said. “On the way, we will stop at my apartment. There are some things I will need.” She gave him a sad look. “Ohh, poor Elliot!” she feigned a whine. “I’m sorry, but you have a hard night ahead of you.” She sat up, with a stern look on her face, her eyes locked on his. “You caused me a lot of pain, and tonite I will make you pay for that.”

The End…. or maybe not.

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