Flames of Torture
Spiro von Lambbe
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Only one part in sixteen of Jewish blood was enough to condemn beautiful young Ilse and her brother to the camp where the officers of the Third Reich, male and female, took their pleasures..
women buxom. She also saw blonde hair, cut as short as a man's, and a face that had been beautiful once, before it had picked up the livid white scar that crossed its left cheek and barely traversed the corner of the mouth, and the twisted lump of a nose that had been broken and badly set. Luisa picked up the riding crop she carried, slapped it against a knee length black boot once, and stomped out of the room. She thought of having breakfast before going to the new arrivals' bay, but decided
pants and looked down at it. “Such a pretty little thing,” she said. “And now it's no longer the malignant spreader of vermin that it was. Now it has been purified, crippled, turned from an evil machine into a toy for my amusement.” She dropped it and opened the top button of his pants. They fell to the floor, landing in a heap about his feet. She had made him shave his entire body every day since the operation. She always did that, she said, because she liked her jewboys to be smooth and nice.
the uniform of an officer, though Josef couldn't be certain in the dimness. He opened the flap of his holster as inconspicuously as he could. It wasn't until they were almost on top of the figure that he recognized Luisa Hummel. She stepped close to them a half smile on her face as though she expected to see a group of officers, or some officers and women they were bringing back from amusement at the medical section. When she saw Josef's face, she looked puzzled for a moment, and then she looked
the tables leaped to attention. “Please, gentlemen,” Richter said to the doctors, “Go on with your work. I know you are busy, and you have work of more lasting importance to attend to.” He turned to the guard at the door. “At ease, Corporal. At ease.” The Jewesses took the hint and remained at rigid attention. He walked down the line of naked women, enjoying the sight of them. From time to time he poked one, or ran his fingertips over a breast or a buttock. The girls remained at attention,
“I see. Dead by now, no doubt.” Ilse began to cry. She looked down at her lap and tried to brush the tears away with the heels of her hands. “Don't worry about it, my dear. I'm sure it was quick and painless. A woman in her fifties holds little fascination for the Reich. No doubt she was sent to the ovens or the gas chambers. “I have been thinking over the fact that your last name is Adler. There was a boy named Adler in the neighborhood when I knew your mother. I believe he had political