by Van ©2017


Chapter 3

Dramatis Personæ


Mary Tuppen didn't have time to come up with a plan for slipping her bonds and sprinting for home (perhaps pausing to find something to wear on the way).  Naked, bound and gagged, the Nazi she-soldiers hustled her from the Winborn's small barn, into the farmhouse, and down the steps to the dark cellar.  A soldier clicked a switch, turning on the bare lamp that was the cellar's only light, and—"Mrrrf?"—Mary received yet another alarming shock!

A naked woman was bound and gagged atop a table covered with a wool blanket, balanced on her stomach in a tight, punishing hogtie!  She had curly, flaming red hair and although her face, shoulders, and arms were lightly freckled, most of her skin was the pale pink-white hue typical of redheads.  A knotted cloth-gag plugged her mouth, similar to Mary's own, but her rope bonds were much, much more numerous and elaborate.  The hogtied captive opened her eyes—Mary noted they were green—and blinked in the harsh, yellowish light.

One of the soldiers gave Mary a shove towards the table and its hogtied, red-haired occupant.  "Mrrrpfh!"  Mary nearly stumbled and fell, which might have caused her serious harm.  With her hands tied behind her back she wouldn't have been able to catch herself.  She watched as the two Nazis whispered together.  Anonymous behind their helmets, goggles, and face-masks, Mary couldn't even tell what language they were speaking.  They seemed to be looking at her, and she assumed her fate was the topic of discussion.  Her heart was still pounding and she still struggled to control her fear.

Mary shifted her gagged and frightened gaze to the redhead, who stared back at her.  Mary had absolutely no idea who the red-haired captive might be.  Maybe she's Irish, Mary reasoned.  Obviously, whoever she was and wherever she'd come from, she was no friend of the Germans.  The "Baroness" had mentioned a "Doctor Professor Vogel," or something like that, and "Vogel" sounded German, or maybe Dutch.  Could this be her?  She must be, but why would Nazi spies be treating a fellow German in such a cruel manner?

Apparently having agreed on a plan of action, one of the Nazis opened a crate and started pulling out coils of hemp rope.  The other strolled to Mary and grabbed her by the hair, once again.


Mary's gagged complaints were ignored as, working in concert, the soldiers first untied her wrists, then used the new rope to bind her in a standing spread-eagle between two of the cellar's timber support posts.  She fought back as best she could, but the soldiers were strong and, apparently, well-trained in the handling of prisoners.  Despite her best efforts, Mary's arms and legs were soon stretched to their limits with a dozen or so tight loops around each of her wrists and ankles.  She had so little slack she could barely tug on her new bonds and was up on her toes on the hard floor.

Next, the soldiers began the long, involved process of untying the redhead's elaborate bonds.  Mary watched as the ropes melted away.  Then, the soldiers lifted the limp, naked redhead from the table.  Her pale skin was crisscrossed with angry pink rope-marks and she offered absolutely no resistance.   She seemed to be exhausted.  The soldiers then tied her in a standing spread-eagle, and not only was the redhead's outstretched pose the same as Mary's, but the two captives were bound face-to-face!  They were also breast-to-breast, stomach-to-stomach, and thigh-to-thigh.

Mary struggled and squirmed... which caused her skin to slide against the redhead's.  The forced intimacy was... disturbing.  The captives locked eyes.  Their gagged faces were about an inch apart and they were both totally helpless.

Unfortunately, the soldiers weren't finished.  They sorted and coiled the redhead's former rope bonds, arranging them on the table next to the remaining new rope from the crate, then set to work looping and hitching rope around Mary and the redhead's arms and legs.  Loops and bands tightened every few inches from their wrists to their armpits and their ankles to their upper thighs.  None of the ropes were cinched between their bodies, thereby enforcing even more intimate skin-to-skin contact with relentless, ever-growing pressure.

Their captors then started on their torsos.  Neat, multiple bands of rope tightened around Mary and the redhead's upper bodies, squashing their breasts together and limiting their ability to breathe.  More rope tightened around their waists... then their upper thighs... then yoked their shoulders.  As with their limbs, none of the tight strands passed between their bodies, and all the elements of their bondage—arms, legs, and torso—were hitched together into a unified whole.

Squirming was no longer an option, nor was looking each other in the face.  They were now gagged-cheek-to-gagged-cheek with their chins resting on each others shoulders.

Still not done, the Nazis passed a rope with a dozen closely spaced knots between the captive's legs, made sure it nestled against their private parts, then passed the ends over rafters on opposite sides of the cellar and perpendicular to the spreadeagled prisoners—and pulled!


Both Mary and the redhead complained.  They had also winced in pain.

The captives were now spreadeagled, lashed together, and riding the knotted rope with their toes just barely touching the floor.

Mary shivered in misery, tears dripping down her gagged cheeks.  She heard boots clatter on the cellar stairs, the light clicked off, plunging the cellar into inky darkness, then the door at the top of the stairs slammed shut.

Mary interlaced her fingers with the redhead's and gently squeezed... and the redhead squeezed back.  All they could do was breathe, as best they could, dance on their toes as they rode the cruel rope, and endure.

Sam hung in her cruel bondage and endured.  Her ankles, knees, elbows, and wrists lashed together, naked, up on her toes and bent forward at the waist with her arms raised behind her back to their very limit, Sam endured.  The cruel pose imparted a dull ache through her shoulders and down her back.  She would have complained, but for the fact that she was well-gagged by the rough, knotted cloth tied through her mouth.  Also, her only audience would be her companions, Peggy and Joan, who were in identical bound and gagged predicaments.  Their Nazi captors, including the beautiful but evil "Baroness," had abandoned them in their rustic barn prison.

Sam turned her gagged head to gaze at her fellow prisoners.  Joan had stopped crying and seemed to have found her courage, or had become resigned to their condition.  Her inspiration—and Sam's as well—was probably Peggy.  The mysterious brunette was still visibly angry.  Sam could tell, even in the dim light.  Peggy was angry... and brave.  Also, she had remarkable breasts... like Diana Prince, Wonder Woman's friend.  Joan's breasts, on the other hand, were decidedly modest... smaller than Sam's, anyway... and Sam had no idea why she was even thinking about her fellow prisoner's breasts, or anybody's breasts for that matter.

Suddenly, their captors returned, led by the Baroness.  The female soldiers were all armed and in uniform, as before, but the evil blond aristocrat had changed out of the British Army uniform she'd been wearing before and into a stylish, very attractive, dark tan skirt and jacket over a white blouse, as well as brown boots and an obviously expensive pair of gloves.

"Ve vill begin vith zee primary target," the Baroness purred.

The blonde's sinister smile was directed at—Gulp!—Sam!  Primary target?  Me?  Why me?

One of the soldiers removed her helmet and goggles and placed them atop a wooden crate, together with her submachine gun.

Sam craned her neck and watched as the soldier reached into the pocket of her camouflaged frock, produced a rolled white cloth, then unrolled the cloth, revealing a medical syringe of steel and glass!  "Mrrk?"  The soldier removed the metal cap shielding the needle, depressed the plunger until a clear fluid squirted from the tip of the needle, then tapped the needle to remove any air bubbles.  She then stepped behind Sam, out of her field of view.


Sam mewled and squirmed as something—obviously the needle—stabbed her right buttock!  There was an immediate burning sensation... which became a tingling, itching sensation... that slowly spread, radiating outward until it encompassed her entire naked, bound and gagged body.  Sam hung in her bonds and shivered in misery.

"Zhis first injection—vhat is zhe expression?—'primes zhe pump'?" the Baroness purred.  "Continue."

A pair of soldiers carried over an old wooden chair and a folding footstool, then opened a crate and removed several coils of white rope.  Meanwhile, another pair of soldiers released the rope enforcing Sam's bent-forward pose and carried her to the chair.

Sam continued shivering, squirming, and mewling through her gag as the soldiers—"Mrrrpfh!"—tied her to the chair.  When they were finished, Sam could barely move anything other than her head, hands, fingers, and toes, and Sam very much wanted to move!  The itching sensation was unendurable, but unfortunately, with her arms behind the chair's back, her feet atop the stool, and with ropes binding her wrists, elbows, upper body (above and below her breasts), as well as her waist, thighs, and ankles, all she could do was endure.  There were even ropes around her neck, but they weren't tight enough to restrict her breathing.  As a final touch they tied her big toes together, stretched the rope through her thigh-bonds, pulled out all of the slack, and tied a final knot.

Next, the soldiers clicked on a pair of portable klieg lights on tripods, bathing Sam and her chair in harsh white light.

Sam continued shivering, and now she was sweating as well.  Whether the perspiration was caused by the drug coursing through her veins or the heat emanating from the bright lights was unclear.  It was probably both.  The white rope the soldiers had used was soft, probably woven cotton, a change from the rough hemp they'd used before, but whatever the nature of the strands dimpling Sam's glistening, flushed flesh, the prickling sensations were growing even worse!

"Excellent," the Baroness chuckled. then shifted her predatory gaze to Peggy and Joan.  Still smiling, she shook her head and clucked her tongue.  "Oh, no-no-no.  Zhis von't do at all.  Place zhem zhere ze haff a better view of zhe action.  Of course..."  Her smile grew even more sinister.  "...zhere iz no reason zhey should be comfortable."

Sam watched, doing her best to sit perfectly still and ignore the titillating sensations rippling through her helpless body, as soldiers released Joan, clamped her wrists in iron shackles joined by a stout chain, then hung her from a hook set at the top of one of the barn's support posts to Sam's left.  Strung up by her wrists with her arms stretched over her head, Joan was still up on her toes, still gagged, and with her ankles and thighs still bound.

The soldiers moved on to Peggy, but as they let her down from her punishing, bent-at-the-waist pose and untied her wrists and elbows—they found they had a fight on their hands!

It was a decidedly uneven fight as Peggy's ankles and thighs were still bound, but it was definitely a fight.  One soldier received a kick to the chin while the other was the beneficiary of a roundhouse punch to the jaw.  The three rolled on the barn floor while the others watched.  Then, Joan outstretched her right arm, straining to reach a dropped submachine gun.  Her fluttering fingers almost touched the hand-grip and trigger, but a third soldier stepped forward and placed a firm and no doubt painful boot on Peggy's right hand.

The fight was over.

Soon, Peggy was next to Joan, her wrists in shackles, her arms raised over her gagged head, and her body dangling from another hook.  Her ankles remained bound, but for some reason the soldiers untied her thighs.  Sam had no idea why, but the "mystery" of Peggy's unbound thighs helped distract her mind from the horrible sensations crawling across her skin like a thousand dancing ants.

"Agent Carter!" the Baroness scolded in a mocking manner, "stop acting like a peasant!"  She strolled to the open crate from which the soldiers had produced the white rope and pulled out a pair of long, belt-like straps of black leather.  Smiling her evil smile, the Baroness strolled to Peggy and proceeded to buckle one strap around Peggy's upper waist and the post and the second around her lower waist and the post, pulling both punishingly tight.  Without question the straps enhanced Peggy's helplessness, but Sam suspected the Baroness was just being callous and vindictive.

Peggy glared at the Baroness' smug, smiling face, and growled through her gag, still defiant and unbowed.

The Baroness laughed, spun on her booted heel, and strolled in Sam's direction.

Shivering in her bonds (and her misery), her quivering skin covered with gooseflesh and gleaming with sweat, Sam watched as the Baroness lifted her skirt and pulled a long, stiff, black and white goose quill from her right boot-top!

"Nrrrrr!" Sam whined through her gag.

Meanwhile, Peggy had been busy tossing her head, working her jaw, and rubbing her gag against her upper arms.  She finally succeeded in expelling the knotted cloth from her mouth.  It dropped down and dangled around her neck with the knot against her throat

"She's just an MTC driver!" Peggy shouted.  "Leave her out of it, you Hydra bitch!"

Still smiling, the Baroness turned and strolled back to Peggy.  "Agent Carter," she chuckled, "such language.  Vhere are your manners?"  A soldier slung her submachine and stepped forward, reaching for Peggy's gag, but the Baroness waved her away.  Still smiling, she began twirling the long, stiff quill in her gloved hand.  Then, with slow deliberation, she gently stroked the side of Peggy's right breast with the feather.

"Stop that!" Peggy gasped, visibly struggling to suppress a delicate shiver.

Far from stopping, the Baroness teased Peggy's right nipple.  "You are in no position to tell me vhat to do.  You were an incompetent agent of zhe incompetent Strategic Scientific Reserve, und now you are a slave of Hydra."  She shifted her attention to Peggy's left breast and nipple.  "I think zhat after ve have extracted everything you know about Allied plans und operations, I vill make you my personal sex slave.  You have delightful Titten."

"Incompetent," Peggy scoffed, struggling to ignore the Baroness' feathery, teasing caresses.  "You smuggle a ton of equipment into England in crates stenciled with Hydra and Wehrmacht labels, parade around in Hydra uniforms—"  She tossed her head, pointing with her chin at the large black banner hanging behind her from the barn's second floor railing. "—and drape your hideout with banners.  How stupid are you, von Spitze?"

The Baroness' jaw clenched and her smile froze.  She continued caressing Peggy's large, arguably magnificent breasts with the stiff feather.  "I know vhat you are trying to do," she said finally.  "You hope to distract me from Agent Stewart.  Your escapades are well know to us, Agent Carter, but zhe 'MTC Driver' who vas instrumental in destroying most of zhe Abwehr's spy network in Southern England und flipping zhe Fu Manchu tong to zhe Allied cause?  She is almost unknown to us.  Ve are not even sure of her organization.  SSR?  OSS?  MI-5?  MI-6?  An as yet unknown branch of Military Intelligence?  Vell... soon ve vill know all."  [Author's Note: See the first two SAM's WAR stories to see vhat, I mean what the Baroness is talking about.]

The Baroness shifted her smile to Joan.  "Und vhat about zhis delightful Mädchen?"

Joan stared at the twirling feather with wide-eyed dread, then tugged on her shackles and mewled through her gag as the Baroness took a step closer and began caressing her right breast.  "Mrrrrrfh!"

Peggy stared at the travesty unfolding to her right.  "Stop that."

"Who is zhis charming English rose vith zhe tiny Titten, Agent Carter?" the Baroness inquired as she continued tickling Joan's modest breasts.  They were flattened by her arms-over-head pose, but her pink nipples were erect.

"She's a government clerk on leave who asked for a ride," Peggy muttered.

"Oh, Agent Carter," the Baroness chuckled.  "Vhat is zhe expression?  You are pulling my leg?"  She reversed the quill and began teasing Joan's nipples with the sharp end.

"Mrrrrf!"  Joan clenched her eyes tightly closed and shivered in misery.

"You bitch!" Peggy hissed.  "Stop!"

"Vell..." the Baroness chuckled.  "She may haff been a 'government clerk', Agent Carter, but now... like you... she is a slave of Hydra, und ve shall learn all of her secrets... at our leisure."  The Baroness turned to the soldier who had given Sam the injection.  "How long until ve must commence phase two?"

The masked soldier snapped to attention.  "Ze second injections may be given at any time vithin zhe next half hour, Baroness."

"Very vell," the Baroness purred, the returned to teasing Joan's breasts.

"I will tell you nothing," Peggy huffed.  "And as for the others... they have nothing to tell."

"Really?" the Baroness chuckled.  "Everybody has something to tell, und ve haff vays of making you talk."

"Oh, please," Peggy sighed, rolling her eyes.

"You are familiar with zhe vork of Frau Professor Doktor Saskia Vogel, zhe youngest ever Universitätsprofessor at zhe
Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität München?"

"I know she's a pioneer in the development of psychiatric pharmaceuticals," Peggy answered.  "I also know you've threatened her family unless she works for Hydra."

The Baroness stopped teasing Joan's breasts and nipples, reached down with her left hand, and caressed Joan between her legs.  Joan's stomach and thigh muscles tensed in response.

"Mrrrrpfh!"  Joan squirmed in helpless horror.

"I vill be most interested to learn exactly how zhe SSR came by such knowledge," The Baroness purred, "Und thanks to Professor Doktor Vogel's latest drugs, you vill tell me... vhen it is your turn to do so."  She turned and strolled back to Sam, her chair, and the helmet-less, masked soldier.  "Zhe latest protocol calls for three drugs," she continued.  Her gloating smile was on Sam as she resumed twirling the quill in her right hand.  "Zhe precursor drug prepares zhe body for zhe effects of zhe next two, vhich are administered zimultanelusly."

Peggy tugged on her shackles in frustration, but said nothing.

Joan panted through her gag, still recovering from the Baroness taking intimate and unwanted liberties with her naked body.

"Zhey tell me zhe sensations caused by zhe drugs are unendurable," the Baroness continued.  "Zhe skin becomes hypersensitive to any stimulation, even zhe pressure on zhe feet from standing, or ze butt from sitting, or zhe clothing on zhe body... or zhe ropes binding zhe body in place.  It is impossible to remain still... but moving only makes zhe sensations vorse."  She twirled the quill again, for sinister emphasis.  "Imagine zhe torture of being gently caressed by a feather vhile in such a state... or being flogged... or having cold steel medical instruments poke und prod.  After a few hours of such... entertainment, subjects are most eager to please... more zhan villing to answer any und every question... most eager to share all that zhe know about any topic.  Zhey vill do anyzhing to receive zhe antidote."

Sam's heart was pounding and her breasts heaving, which did nothing to alleviate the horrible tingling caused by the sliding ropes and the hard chair under her rump, against her back, and the stool under her feet—and if the Baroness was telling the truth, she was only feeling the effects of the precursor drug, the drug paving the way for two more!

"Vell," the Barioness said, nodding to the helmet-less soldier, "ve may as vell proceed."

The soldier produced a second syringe, and this one had two needles, two glass chambers, and two plungers!  She pressed the plungers and tapped the needles, preparing to give the double injection—and Sam could do nothing to stop her!

"Soon you vill tell me everzhing you know, Agent Stewart," the Baroness purred.  She continued twirling the goose feather.

Sam in
Original illustration by "Turk."  Thanks Turk!
[Click to open BIG full-size image.]


Chapter 2 crown
Chapter 4