Oh, Kurt, what big eyes you have! – All the better to see you with, said Kurt as he stripped the little lady out of her pretty red dress and feasted his eyes on her delicate frame and rosy flesh.
Oh, Kurt, what big hands you have! – All the better to grab you with, said Kurt and made her feel the weight of his fingers around her throat and between her coyly opening thighs.
Oh, Kurt, what a horribly big mouth you have! – All the better to eat you with, said Kurt with the widest, toothiest grin and he had scarcely finished speaking when he put his big mouth on her wet cunt and ate the poor girl out; as soon as Kurt had appeased his appetite, he climbed into bed, fell asleep, and began to snore very loudly.
Goebbels is humiliated for his physical deformities.
They all look at him, so many rough faces, square, dirty, not pretty, no, but strong, healthy and so very cruel – how did these people do it, did the mothers smother their young when they came out deformed, were the weak allowed to live only so long until eventually they were thrown down a well by their fitter brothers or chased away into the forest to be mauled by bears?
One of them steps forward, wide face, wide frame and many teeth, he must carry some noteworthy rank that Goebbels can’t recognise (but he does recognise that his wristwatch is of German make), and he kicks the little doctor in the ribs, tells him to get up, first
in Russian for his audience and then – oh, he is a man of intellect – also in impeccable German repeats the lines to the naked bundle cowering at his feet, curled up like a fussy little woman hiding her shame, but it’s not his swollen, black and blue genitals Goebbels is hiding, it’s the foot.
Get up, good doctor, get up, the man says, we want to hear your lovely voice, tell us one of your German fairy tales please, be so kind, we’ve come such a long way for you, tell us about the thousand year Reich and the superior man – and Goebbels must be hospitable, he tries his best to deliver his last speech with blood dripping from his toothless jaws.
tongue-tied
Letting
Hermann do the talking has never been the tricky part of any venture
and Udet just sticks his tongue into the pocket of his cheek and
observes asGöring introduces him to the man he has been staying
with, a Captain Beaumont
(fortuitous happenstance the British pilot Hermann had
shown such hospitality to after he’d been shot down over their lines
is here now in Munich and doing very well for himself – fortuitous,
Hermann’s word, though offered airily and in the manner of one
who generally expects fate to shine upon him and thus is not
particularly grateful or surprised when it does) who welcomes Ernst
in excellent German and a curiously apologetic smile.It
takes until his third night enjoying Beaumont’s effusive generosity
that he realises, passing by a door left carelessly ajar: there is
Hermann, one leg hooked over the arm of a chair, his clothes
dishevelled and pulled open to display a gleaming swathe of his chest
– he’s sitting sprawled like it’s a throne, every line of his body
imperious but most of all in the cold curl of his mouth as he stares
down at Beaumont kneeling before him, begging (Ernst can hear it
now, the sheer shock of the sight that had deafened his senses
softening) a litany of desperate pleas falling fromBeaumont’s
lips as his
fingers creep tentatively up Hermann’s leg to where the creases in
his trousers twist across his thigh and the indistinct
shadow of his erection.The
next morning when Beaumont hands Hermann a wad of banknotes, you
chaps go get yourself a good breakfast, he
must have stared a little too long, for Hermann meets his gaze and
frowns a moment before a dimple appears on either cheek and his
mouth twists as if he’s trying to stop himself from erupting into
laughter – all the way down to the cafe Ernst feels as though with
each breath the questions, comments, accusations, tumbling around in
his chest will finally burst forth but when Hermann arches an eyebrow
at him and enquires, something
on your mind, Ernst, he
merely shakes his head.
Bunker Archives 