Bunker Pulp Fiction Excerpts

Blood Hole

By N. Newman

An Eros Goldstripe Publication, FFS 103, Forty Fiction Series, 1977


He was captured on the way to the landing strip. The others got away, but he stayed behind to wipe out the traces of their flight. A Nazi patrol grabbed him and he was taken to one of the big beautiful houses the Nazis had confiscated.

He refused to give any information. His name, his number, his rank. Nothing else. They beat him, mercilessly but he did not give them any of the information they sought. They thought him heroic, actually, he had no information to give them.

He was stripped and his wrists were shackled to a wall in the castle’s dungeon. One day he was awake, expecting more abuse, when the local commandant came into the room. There was a girl with him, a blonde girl, beautiful beyond belief. She had white gloves on her hands and she stepped close and her hands reached out to handle his cock and then his balls. She hurt him and he groaned. She laughed softly and turned to the Nazi general who seemed to be her friend. She smiled and her lips glistened redly, brightly.

“He is well endowed, Carl, dear,” she said.

“And he is very nice looking. What will you do with him?”

“He will be shot,” the general said. “He is a spy, an enemy. That is the way we deal with spies.”

The girl made a cute little face at the general.

“If you loved me, really loved me you would give him to me. I could have such good times with him, and when he fails to amuse me any longer, then you could shoot him.”

The general stood up straight. He was very young for a general. Joey could hear the things that they were saying but he did not sort them out. The girl wanted him. She kept on wheedling and coaxing.

“Carl, dear,” she said, finally, “you could give him to me and I would be so grateful. After all, we are the conquerors here.

The general listened, a thin smile on his cold face. “My beautiful Claudia,” he said, “it is possible that you have a new servant in your household. It is entirely possible. But, first, I must have him spend some time with some people I know here. When he is delivered to you, I know you want him to be docile, obliging. When he leaves here he will be a puppy, eager to curry favor, desperately anxious to please so that he will never have to meet the men he must meet now again.”

The girl stepped close to the general and they kissed.

“Don’t let them hurt this lovely thing,” she said, putting her hand around his cock.

The general laughed and kissed the blonde girl again.

“I know,” he said, indulgently, “you will want to hurt it yourself. I know what you are like, dear Claudia.”

The girl sighed and kissed the general again. “Yes, my dear,” she said, “you do. But, you love me the way I am. just think, suppose your superiors were to learn what you are really like.

Suppose I were to see to it that the Fuhrer was allowed to look at some of the pictures I have of you. Just think, suppose some of those pictures were to appear in one of those American magazines. General Carl Schultz being ridden around a ballroom by a pretty little girl with a whip and spurs. Just think what would happen if the Fuhrer were to see some of those pictures we have with you and those handsome young men you like so well. Think about that.”

The general laughed out loud. “The Fuhrer is like that, too, my dear. Now, you can stop threatening me. You have won your point. I will send this young man to you in three days.”

“Oh, thank you, Carl, dear. Thank you.”

The general laughed again. He kissed the beautiful blonde girl again. She reached out to handle Joey’s balls. She squeezed them in a way that made him blind with sudden agony. The last sound he heard before he passed out was the blonde’s laughter.


Much of what they did to prepare him was too horrible to remember. His mind closed itself to the recollections of some of the agonies they forced upon him. They were just too terrible to survive and he knew that he fainted many times.

There were two tall, powerful men with crew cuts and big arms and they handled him as though he were a child. They put big, prehensile fingers into spots on his shoulders and his groin and he wept and begged for mercy and there was no mercy and then he finally began to plead for death. Anything if only they would not hurt him again.

Slowly but surely they broke what little spirit he had and when they suggested that he could be obliging and save himself some pain if he sucked them off he was only too glad to do it.

They did not mark him. When he was taken from the castle where the general held forth, he was dressed in a dark suit and they let him shave and he looked quite good. But, deep inside, he was mush and he knew that he was going to try very hard to please the blonde beauty who was going to be his new mistress, because it had been explained to him that he would die if she decided he was not useful to her.

The general stood in front of him before he was taken away. The man’s monocle glistened in the lights and the smoke from his cigarette cloyed in Joey’s nostrils and made him yearn for a smoke. When he moved, the sore places in his body ached him and the men who had hurt him just laughed.

“You are going to live with a beautiful woman,” the general said. “It will be your task to amuse her, to please her in every possible way. If she calls me and tells me that you are not as obliging as she hoped for, you will be shot immediately. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir,” Joey said. He was trembling with fear and they knew it. He was sure that they were merely playing with him and that he would not live for long.

The men who had broken him went with him in the big black limousine and he was delivered to a beautiful castle on a mountain top. A uniformed butler opened the door for them. They were led through the beautiful rooms to a basement area panelled in pale woods. The floors were hardwood, polished. Joey walked between the two men he knew so well and when he went through a heavy oak door, he was in a room of great beauty. It was a sort of foyer, there were dark carved benches, heavy velvet drapes at the walls. He was told to sit down and he obeyed.

A wall speaker whispered and then he heard a feminine voice say, “Thank you, gentlemen. You may leave the young man where he is and go back the way you came. Thank you.”

The two men smiled at him, it was a ghastly leer, actually, then they left.

He sat down on one of the benches and he was so frightened he was trembling. He was alone for a long time. When a door at the other side of the room opened, he jumped to his feet, eager to show how willing he was, how eager to please.

A pretty little blonde girl came for him. She had long blonde hair that hung far down her back and her big eyes were a grayish green. Her lips glistened brightly with red lipstick and she had a cigarette in her hand. She carried a riding crop, a vicious looking quirt in her other hand. She walked over to him, she stood and looked down at him. She brought the heavy quirt down into her palm and he winced. She smiled at his response to the whip.

“I am Miss Ingrid,” she said. “You will come with me;”

He stood up and her smile flashed at him again.

It was a derisive smile.

“Your name is Joey,” she said. “I’ll be your warden. That means that I practically live with you, I teach you absolute obedience and I make sure that you are ready and able when you are required to entertain. Now come along.”



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