The Mankillers of Femville Part 9
By Utrea
Series about an all female resistance group in Nazi occupied France during WWII


Chapter 1.

Gauleiter Ernst Schnabel of the Gestapo scowled as he surveyed the scene of
the murders. He was in a small clearing in the woods where an SS patrol had
discovered the bodies of two Wehrmacht soldiers, the previous evening. A
search of the area had revealed a third soldier lying dead in a ditch by the
road nearby. All had been strangled.

Schnabel had been summoned to SS Sturmbannfuhrer Herman Kessler's office that
morning. The Nazi commander had been furious. Kessler had been brought to the
German supply depot and garrison in the former French town of Femville, to
combat the appalling loss of Wehrmacht troops to the Maquis. But since he had
replaced the regular army patrols with his own SS troops, the body count had
continued to grow. Berlin had voiced their concerns over Kessler's failure and
he in turn was taking it out on the small Gestapo man.

"Schnabel", he began smiling chillingly,"when I brought you here, you gave me
your guarentee that you would find out where the verdammt Maquis bastards were
hiding but so far you have produced nothing. Why is that so?"

"Herr Sturmbannfuhrer" Schnabel answered nervously,"it is not that simple. The
French schweinen attack from nowhere and disappear without a trace. They never
leave so much as a single clue".

"Then you are not looking hard enough!" the Nazi exploded. "Unless you wish to
find yourself on the Russian front, fighting with the rest of the cannon
fodder, you will get me a result. Now get out and do not return without the
location of the Maquis' base."

After leaving Kessler's office, the Gestapo man had attended the garrison's
mortuary where he had examined the latest casualties. The three corpses, one
corporal and two privates had been stripped of all identity, which was
unusual. Normally, the Maquis would taunt them by leaving their
victims'weapons and equipment behind after throttling the life from them. And
why did they choose this particular sadistic and gruesome method of killing?
Some of the corpses showed signs of having put up a struggle, others had
clearly been bound before being callously executed, yet more had apparently
been taken completely by surprise and had died before they had had a chance to
defend themselves. Schnabel pondered these questions as he looked down on the
bloated blackened faces of the three bodies before him. He noted the thin
bruised indentation which circled the corporal's neck

"Garrotte" he said quietly to himself, then turned to a white-coated army
doctor stood behind him "what about the others?"

"Well, this one", the doctor replied indicating to one of the soldiers whose
name had been Werner,"had tremendous pressure brought to bear on his throat.
The bruising to the front and back of his neck, suggests it was trapped in
some kind of vice and slowly tightened. But this one", he went on indicating
the man whose name had been Krieger," is even more interesting.

The doctor gently turned Krieger's head to the right exposing the left side of
his neck. There were five small bruise marks.

"Fingers?" Schnabel opined.

"I thought so at first" the doctor replied,"but look".

He turned Krieger's head to the left. The right side of his neck was
unblemished.

"If this man had been strangled by hand, you would expect to see corresponding
marks on this side of his neck. Even if the killer just used one hand, which
is highly improbable, you would still see a mark where the thumb would have
gripped the neck. No, these are not fingermarks, they are toes".

"You mean...", Schnabel began incredulously.

"I mean," the doctor continued," that this man died with somebody standing on
his throat."

The Gestapo man examined the bruise marks closely, peering at them through
thick lensed, wire framed spectacles. There was something about them which was
puzzling him but he just could not figure out what it was.

"Have you managed to find out who they were?"

"Not yet" the doctor said.

"Then you will inform me the moment they have been indentified. Sieg Heil!" he
said clicking his heels together and raising his right arm in the Nazi salute.

Chapter 2

Now here he was in the woods, flanked by a unit of SS troops, looking for
clues and trying desperately to avoid getting sent to the Russian front. But
how the hell was he going to find the Maquis. If only they could have captured
a single prisoner. Schnabel was an accomplished torturer. In fact it was his
greatest pleasure, inflicting indescribable pain on others, it actually turned
him on. Jagerin was the only person to have seen the Maquis and live, and the
stupid bitch had killed them, Schnabel thought bitterly.

The little Gestapo officer finally decided that there was nothing to be found
in the woods. He started to walk along a natural track leading back to the
road, to where the third body had been found, when something caught his eye.
There was something snagged on a thorny shrub by the side of the track.
Schnabel bent down and retrieved it. It was a black nylon stocking. He
stretched the garment between his hands and saw that a large knot had been
tied in the middle, as if it had been used as....a garrotte!

Schnabel raised the stocking to his large nose and sniffed at it. The
unmistakeable odour of expensive French perfume assailed his nostrils and
suddenly the Gestapo man realised what it was that he had found so odd about
the marks on Krieger's neck. The size of the marks and the spacing between
them was too small for the killer to have been a full grown man. It would have
had to have been a youth ....or a woman.

"Mein Gott", Schnabel breathed, "the Chateau".

Could it be that while they had been searching endlessly for the Maquis in the
Montmarche hills, the Maquis who had inflicted such heavy casualties on the
German troops were actually Louise LaVenger's high class whores. Surely no
woman could strangle to death a fit, fully trained, male soldier, Schnabel
thought, but here he was holding the weapon which had obviously been used to
kill the corporal and the foot mark on the other soldier's neck suggested
otherwise.

The Gestapo man's first thought was to report back to Kessler, but he quickly
changed his mind. Firstly, all he had was circumstantial evidence, what he
needed was absolute proof. Secondly, if he was right, why should Kessler get
any of the glory, after all they promoted Jagerin and awarded her the Knights
Cross after her encounter.

This last thought made the little man start.

"Jagerin", he said out loud. If Schnabel's theory was correct, The Wehrmacht
Captain had to be a traitor.

Schnabel looked slyly around to see if he had been overheard by any of the
searching troops. When it was apparent that he had not, the Gestapo man
quickly put the stocking into the pocket of the black leather trenchcoat he
wore in spite of the summer sun. Schnabel wore the coat as he believed it to
give his otherwise diminutive frame an air of menace, which he used to
intimidate others.

He stood and addressed the NCO in charge of the SS troopers.

"There s nothing to be found here", he announced,"we will return to Femville
immediately."

During the journey back to the garrison, Schnabel began to formulate a plan.
He would select two SS troopers he could trust: Falke and Johnen would do.
Next he would request the assistance of Jagerin on some pretext and go to the
Chateau. There he would interrogate the bitch, La Venger, force a confession
and arrest her together with the treacherous Captain. Only then would he
telephone Kessler and tell him to bring enough troops to arrest the others. He
licked his lips at the anticipation of torturing a confession from the
beautiful tall dark Louise La Venger. Maybe he could even delay the call to
Kessler, while he had his fun. Just the thought of it was giving him a
hard-on.

By the time Schnabel reached Femville, he was bright eyed with excitement and
was sweating profusely. He almost ran up the steps of the old town hall, which
now served as the garrison's headquarters and into the lobby. Unbuttoning his
coat and removing his fedora hat, he made his way to the Orderly Corporal sat
behind a reception desk.

"Where is Captain Jagerin?" he asked curtly.

"She is in her office. Herr Gauleiter", the corporal replied, "shall I
announce your arrival?".

"There is no need"

Schnabel made his way to Captain Karen Jagerin's office, removing his coat as
he did so to reveal a cheap suit. Damp patches showed under the arms of his
jacket, where his sweat had soaked through. With eyes bright with excitement
and breathing rapidly, the Gestapo opened the door to the Captain's office and
stepped inside.

Karen Jagerin looked up from her desk as Schnabel entered the room.

"It is customary to knock before entering", the beautiful blonde German said
with undisguised loathing.

Schnabel chose to ignore the girl's tone of voice, after all there would be
time to make her pay for her insolence later. He placed his hat and coat down
on the girl's desk.

"You are to accompany me to the Chateau. Be ready in half an hour", Schnabel
ordered.

"That is quite impossible" she answered, "I have important work to do,
besides, I take my orders from Oberst Von Mannhein , not you".

"You need not worry, I have cleared it with Von Mannheim", the Gestapo man
lied. By the time his deception was discovered, the German captain would
either be under arrest or dead.

"Make sure you are outside ready to go in half an hour", he repeated. He
turned abruptly on his heels and strode out of the room in search of Falke and
Johnen.

There was something about Schnabel's demeanour which rang alarm bells with the
young woman. She waited for a couple of minutes before she too left her
office.

Chapter 3

Thirty minutes later, the Kubelwagen was on its way to the Chateau La Venger,
home to Louise and her girls. The car was driven by SS- Sturmmann Klaus
Johnen. To his right sat SS-Scharfuhrer Alfred Falke. Karen was seated behind
the driver with Schnabel to her right behind Falke. Presently the car
approached the grounds to the Chateau. Turning off the road, Johnen drove the
car through the tall wrought iron gates and up the gravel drive which led to
the magnificent 18th Century mansion. Johnen pulled the kubelwagen to a halt
near to a flight of stone steps which led to double oak doors. As he killed
the engine, Schnabel climbed out of the little car.

"Falke, you will come with me", he ordered, "Johnen you will wait here with
Captain Jagerin. We will summon you when we are ready".

"Jawohl Herr Gauleiter", Johnen snapped, while Karen just stared at the little
Gestapo man with contempt.

Falke, a large muscular man, climbed out of the car. He chambered a round into
the Schmeisser sub-machine gun he carried and strode purposefully toward the
Chateau, the steel studs in the soles of his jackboots, ringing loud against
the stone steps as he purposefully followed his Gestapo master. Together, they
mounted the steps which led to double oak doors of the Chateau. They didn't
bother to ring the bell. At a signal given by Schnabel, Falke kicked out at
the door, once, then twice. He delivered a third blow to the lock. This time
the studded sole of his combat boot splintered the wood and the doors swung
inward. The two Germans continued into the hall of the Chateau. The commotion
had seemingly caused panic amongst the Chateau's inhabitants. Both men saw a
number of Madame Le Venger's girls hurrying to get out of the way of the two
Nazis. All were young and very pretty, dressed identically in the "uniform" of
the Chateau girls. White satin blouses were complemented by tight black skirts
which ended a good four or five inches above the knee. Sheer black nylon
stockings and black patent leather court shoes completed the outfit. Schnabel
nodded to Falke, who reached out and halted one of the girls in mid flight by
reaching out and grasping her slender neck with a bear-like paw. The young
girl looked terrified and struggled ineffectually in the big German's grasp.
She was a good twelve inches shorter than Falke, slim with small but firm
breasts and great legs. Her pretty face with their big blue eyes was framed
with short dark hair which gave her a sort of mischievous, elfin-like
appearance. To Schnabel, the girl was clearly distressed and he began to
wonder whether his suspicions about the girls's involvement in the massacre of
German troops were valid. It was too late now though, he thought.

"Where is Mme. La Venger"? he snapped at the captured girl

She appeared not to have heard the Gestapo man's order. Tears ran down both
cheeks and she was babbling almost incoherently "Please Monsieur, I have done
nothing. Please let me go you are hurting me".

"Falke"! barked the Gestapo officer.

At the sound of his name, the SS man knew what was required of him. He spun
the girl, caught in his grip, round to face him. He released her neck and
suddenly struck her, a vicious backhand blow, which sent the girl reeling. He
pursued her, a big grin on his face, and struck her again causing her to
collapse to the floor.

Schnabel had promised the SS man and his comrade outside with the traitor,
Jagerin, the pick of the girls, to do with whatever they wished. Falke was not
an intelligent man, but he possessed a vivid imagination, and this girl would
fit into his plans nicely. He again grasped the girl by her neck and hauled
her to her feet. She was silent and unresisting as though she had gone into
shock.

"The Gauleiter asked you a question French bitch, he snarled.

"Where is Mme. Le Venger"? the little German repeated.

"Sh.she's up in her room", the girl said quietly. Her eyes held a glazed look,
both cheeks of her pretty face was reddened and a small trickle of blood
seeped from the corner of her mouth.

"You will show us", Schnabel commanded and started to ascend the lavish
staircase which linked the hall to the first floor of the Chateau. Falke
followed dragging the stumbling girl with him. At the top of the stairs, the
Germans found themselves on a plush carpeted landing. On one side, a series of
doors ran the length of the building, either side of the staircase and on the
other ran an intricate wooden balustrade which overlooked the great hall
below. Although he was a secret policeman, not a soldier, Schnabel's position
afforded him officer status and his many visits to the Chateau in order to
"pleasure" himself with the beautiful French girls told him that the doors off
the landing led to the girls' individual boudoirs.

Schnabel turned to the girl. "Which one" he snapped.

The dark haired girl, still caught in the big SS man's grip, nodded toward a
door halfway along the landing.

"Good"!, Schnabel smiled, "Falke, leave that slut and follow me".

Not being an officer himself, it was Falke's first time in the Chateau and he
was determined that he was going to enjoy himself. He pulled the captured girl
close so that their faces were nearly touching.

"I have unfinished business with you Fraulein", he spat, "so don't go away".

He flung the girl away from him. She struck the balustrade, nearly toppled
over but managed to regain her balance just in time and collapsed slowly to
the floor. As she did so, her skirt rose up above her thighs exposing her
stocking tops. The sheer black nylon enhanced the muscle definition in her
firm long shapely legs and Falke found himself thinking that he couldn't wait
to get those limbs wrapped around him. This thought and the sight of the young
girl sprawled out on the thick, luxurious carpet, gave the SS man an instant
erection and he reluctantly turned away and followed Schnabel.

If the big SS man had looked round, he would have been amazed at the
transformation in the girl, that he had left sprawled across the floor. Eloise
had the looks of an angel, but she was a merciless killer with a strength that
belied her slender frame. The frightened look on her face had been replaced
with one of hatred...and a degree of lustful expectation. She mentally
congratulated herself on her skills as an actress and said, in a voice barely
audible," You will pay dearly for that you Nazi bastard. You are mine".

Chapter 4

At Louise La Venger's door, Schnabel did not bother with the niceties of
knocking. Instead, he simply turned the handle and entered the room
unannounced. He closed the door behind leaving Falke outside. The SS man stood
with his back to the door, his Schmeisser slung across his chest as if
silently implying that the room beyond was off limits to everybody save his
Gestapo master and the woman he had come to torture.

Schnabel found himself in a large room, which served as Louise's boudoir. It
was lavishly decorated with a large four poster bed at one end. Delicately
crafted furniture completed the air of opulence and taste. Louise was seated
before an ornate dressing table brushing her lustrous long dark brown hair.
She glanced at the small Nazi in the mirror, stopped and turned to face him, a
smile spreading across her beautiful face. Louise was wearing a long creamy
coloured silk robe which fell open to reveal very long, shapely black
stockinged legs as she swung round. Schnabel gulped, his mouth suddenly very
dry at the apparition of beauty sat before him.

"Gauleiter Schnabel, what a pleasure", she greeted the Nazi. She rose and
adjusted her robe, once again concealing her legs beneath the silky fabric,
which clung to the contours of her firm slim body. Louise was tall, a good ten
inches taller than the Nazi. She held out her hand to the Gestapo man.

Schnabel ignored the gesture, and forced himself to take his eyes away from
the beautiful woman's voluptuous breasts.

Dropping her hand, Louise walked over to the door. "Herr Schnabel", she said,
"you really must forgive me but as you can see you have caught me by surprise.
Now if you would only wait outside..."

She opened the door and found herself staring at the back of Falke who stood
rock still and impassive to the drama unfolding behind him. Beyond the SS man
she could see Eloise being helped to her feet by Michelle and Irene. The
women's eyes met and Louise gave the tiniest, almost imperceptible nod of her
head, indicating to the girls that they could begin their attack.

"Close the door", Schnabel said quietly but with a chilling menace to his
voice.

Louise complied. She closed the door and stood with her back up against it.
With her hands behind her back, she quietly locked the door and removed the
key. She smiled pleasantly at the Nazi.

"What can I do for you?" she said, secreting the key in the sleeve of her robe
and walking back into the room. She stood by a large bay window with her back
to Schnabel.

"I am here because I believe you are the leader of the resistance group
responsible for the murder of many German soldiers. You will confess to me
now, or I will torture the truth from you".

As the Gestapo man spoke, so Louise gazed out of the window. She saw the
Kubelwagen parked on the driveway below her. Karen was staring up at her and
the two women's eyes met. Again Louise gave a secret little nod, which Karen
acknowledged while the Nazi trooper sat imperviously before her.

Louise then turned her attention to Schnabel.

"Tell me more", she said still smiling.

Chapter 5

Falke stood like a statue before Mme. La Venger's door, his feet apart and the
Schmeisser across his chest. He heard the small metallic click of the door
being locked and he allowed himself a small smile. Herr Schnabel obviously did
not want to be disturbed, the SS man thought. His musings were brought to an
abrupt halt when he noticed that the two girls who had helped the third girl,
he had struck, were standing before him. Their stealthy approach had surprised
him, had made him uneasy and that had made him angry.

"Stand back", he growled, "unless you want the same as I gave her".

Irene, the tall buxom Romanian girl rather than comply with the order
defiantly took a step forward

"You call yourself a soldier? A warrior? All you can do is beat women", she
goaded. The blonde had succeeded in distracting Falke away from Michelle who
had edged away to the Nazi's side.

"When I am through with your friend", the SS man said indicating to Eloise,
who still stood some way off, "I think I will have enough for you.

"Ha! You are not man enough", Irene goaded. She suddenly moved in close and
delivered a resounding slap to the SS man's face, rocking his head to the
side. Enraged, Falke made a clumsy grab for the girl but Irene was expecting
it and danced easily out of reach. The trooper bellowed with rage and began to
move toward the blonde. Underestimating his adversaries was about to cost the
Nazi dear. As he moved away from the door, Michelle made her move. The leggy
blonde moved in behind the German, raised her right leg and stabbed the man
viciously with her stiletto shod foot, behind his right knee. Pain lanced
through him as his right knee gave way. Placing all his considerable weight on
his uninjured left leg, Falke twisted at the waist to address his new
attacker.

Seizing her chance Irene once again closed in on the soldier. She pulled the
hem of her skirt up to allow her black nyloned legs the freedom they required,
twisted on her left foot and drove her right knee into the Nazi's stomach.

"Ooof!" he exclaimed as the air was driven from his body. He made another
halting lunge toward his attacker but Irene had once again moved out of range.
Fresh pain hit him as Michelle repeated her assault on his left knee and the
German found dropping to the floor. To stop himself from falling flat on his
face, Falke had to relinquish his hold on his Schmeisser. The weapon dangled
by it's sling from his body as the big man fell to his hands and knees, winded
and concerned now by the girls' ferocious and coordinated attack.

Before he could gather his strength, Irene moved in. She snaked her left arm
around his neck, grasped the wrist with her right hand and tightened the hold,
while at the same time spreading her feet apart for balance. She took a deep
breath and exerted every ounce of strength she possessed to drive her left
forearm hard against the trooper's wind pipe. Falke was a muscular man with
well developed neck muscles and it took a considerable effort by the beautiful
blonde to close his airway. He started gurgling as the life giving air was
severely restricted by the girl's stranglehold. He felt Michelle remove the
Schmeisser from him. The big Nazi grabbed at his attacker's silky smooth legs
and tried to unbalance her but she held him easily.

Michelle moved in behind her friend and Falke felt her fingers against his
face as she pulled the chin-strap away and removed the soldier's steel helmet.
She threw it after the discarded sub-machine gun.

Irene grit her teeth and squeezed the Nazi's throat as hard as she could,
grunting with the effort. After a few minutes, she felt him start to weaken.
His frantic struggles slowed as death approached him. However, Irene had no
intention of killing him, Eloise would have that particular pleasure. Just as
the Stormtrooper was about to slip into unconsciousness, the Romanian girl
suddenly released him. Falke released the girls' legs and instinctively placed
his hands before him on the floor. There he remained on hands and knees while
his body slowly recovered from his attackers.

Irene stood for a moment looking down on the panting German before turning to
Eloise who was still standing near to where she fell.

"He's all yours", Irene said.

Chapter 6.

Karen, having received her signal slowly and silently reached into her
shoulder-bag which lay on the seat beside her. Her beautifully manicured
fingers plucked at the pair of stockings within the bag and pulled them free.
She regarded the nylons, which just the previous day had been fastened up her
long smooth legs, before scrunching one of them into a ball and inserting it
into the other, halfway down. Taking the ends of the second stocking in both
hands, she fashioned a large knot in the soft, silky garment, securing the
first tightly in place. She then wrapped the ends of the stocking a couple of
turns round both hands for extra grip, crossed her wrists as she had been
taught and slowly leaned forward, toward the unsuspecting Johnen.

The SS man sitting in the front of the Kubelwagen was waiting for the signal
from Gauleiter Schnabel, at which he was to arrest the treacherous Captain
Jagerin sat behind him.

Johnen had lost many comrades to the Maquis and the Gestapo man had promised
him revenge on the beautiful traitor. He was a thin wiry man but what he
lacked in physical strength, he more than made up for with his extreme
cruelty. He knew that if Nazi Germany lost the war, he would face execution as
a war criminal. In fact he had made contingency plans to flee should it look
like the Third Reich was about to fall. His commanding officer Sturmbannfuhrer
Kessler had placed he and his comrades in contact with an organisation called
Odessa. Odessa would secrete him out of the country and a new life would be
created for him somewhere in South America.

Johnen was contemplating what he would do to Karen, when she cast the stocking
over his head. His eyes caught the blurred movement but by then it was too
late. As the garrotte settled about his neck, Karen jerked it tight, pulling
her wrists past each other. The nylon became taut as it dug into the flesh of
his neck, the enlarged knot pressing against his windpipe, crushing it shut.
As the stocking stretched, so Karen took up the slack by winding the garment a
couple of more turns round her hands. She raised her right leg and placed her
leather, knee length, booted foot against the back of Johnen's seat for extra
leverage, her uniform skirt riding up and exposing her delicious nyloned
thighs. The SS man gurgled as his breathing became restricted and his hands
flew to his neck to try and relieve the strangling pressure. However the
girl's hold on him was so tight that he found he was unable to get his fingers
between his neck and her garrotte. The Nazi rose from his seat, squirming and
struggling, desperate to alleviate the deadly pressure but Karen was ready for
him and immediately took up the slack. Still Johnen rose until he was
virtually sitting on the top of the driver's seat. The beautiful German
officer tugged the garrotte, viciously, and the SS trooper was toppling
backwards. Karen controlled his descent falling back on to her own seat and
dragging her victim with her so that she lay along the full length of the rear
seat of the car with the struggling man on top of her, his body cradled
between her thighs. Karen proceeded to wrap her legs around his body, crossing
her booted ankles in front of him, locking him in place. She wound in the ends
of the stocking so that her fists, which grasped the ends tightly were
touching his neck. She now knew that there was no escape for the choking man.

Falke shook his head dazedly as his senses began to return to normal. A sudden
movement caught his eye. He turned his head and his jaw swung open in
amazement. Eloise with the hem of her short skirt held up at waist level was
running toward him. With the agility of a gymnast she dived forward, executed
a perfect hand spring and descended on the hapless Nazi, feet first. Her
nyloned legs passed either side of the kneeling SS man's neck. Instantly she
applied pressure, trapping his neck between her thighs just above her knees.
Continuing with the momentum, Eloise again dived into a forward roll, taking
her prey with her. She whipped her legs forward sending him crashing to the
floor. Falke found himself on his side, staring down the back of Eloise's legs
either side of his neck. He saw the he had landed not far from his Schmeisser
and he stretched out his hand. He grasped the pistol grip and was about to
drag the weapon back when he suddenly found his wrist pinned to the floor by a
stiletto shod foot. His eyes travelled up the black clad leg, the rounded hips
and slim waist and the full, voluptuous breasts until he was staring into the
beautiful but merciless eyes of Irene. With her right foot pinning the Nazi's
wrist to the floor between in the gap between the heel and sole of her shoe,
the blonde placed the heel of her left directly on top of his hand and pressed
down. Excruciating pain shot through his hand, causing him to yell and forcing
him to let go of the Schmeisser. Smiling down on the man, Irene took her foot
off of Falke's hand and contemptuously kicked the weapon out of reach. She
then released his wrist and stood back.

The next thing he knew, Michelle was kneeling behind him, unfastening the two
top buttons of his tunic and pulling the high collar away from his throat. She
then gripped the sides of his head in her hands and twisted it violently to
the right, at the same time Eloise let up with her thighs' pressure. To avoid
the girl from breaking his neck, Falke rolled with the girl's twisting motion
until he was lying on his back, the back of his neck resting on Eloise' left
leg just above her knee. Instantly the girl reapplied her grip on his neck
with the back of her right knee against his throat. The girl crossed her
ankles, completing the scissors grip and sat up. She looked down into the face
of her victim smiling sweetly.

Falke, humiliated and angry, still did not fully appreciate the mortal danger
he was in. Here he was, overpowered by three women. He must ensure that nobody
found out about this, which of course would mean the death of his three
attackers and he would do it in the most unpleasant way imaginable. He stared
at Eloise through hate filled eyes.

"Get off me you little whore", he hissed and tried to raise his head.
Instantly, the legs entwined about his neck, so soft and smooth against his
skin, tensed. Steely muscles in the girl's thighs and calves held the German
immobile. He placed his hands on her right leg, one above the knee and one
below and attempted to tear it away from his trapped neck. Eloise slowly
started to apply pressure, the gap between her legs closing, the only thing in
their way was the Nazi. He started to gag as his airway was restricted, his
face reddening from the pressure. With the struggling man gasping and
spluttering, Eloise eased up a little with her squeezing legs and spoke to
him.

"I want you to know that I hold your miserable life in my hands..or to be more
accurate, between my legs. If it is my desire I can kill you. Do you believe
me?".

Falke did not answer, the only sound being the wheezing of his restricted
breath, his face, a grimace the redness beginning to deepen into purple.

Eloise gave a little squeeze with her legs cutting off the German's air supply
entirely, just to grab his attention, before easing off again.

"I said do you believe that I can kill you?", she repeated.

"Ja", the Nazi managed to gurgle, his voice sounding strained and squashed.
And he meant it. Try as he might, he just could not budge the girl's legs
locked in their death grip around his throat. Suddenly the SS trooper was very
afraid.

"Good", Eloise went on "because that is what is going to happen. Not all at
once. I am going to take you to the brink of death and then pull you back
again. How many times I do this depends on how long it amuses me to do so, but
when I tire of it, I will take you to the edge for a final time..and send you
over. Unless...."

She seemed to ponder for a moment before adding, "Beg me for your life".

"Was?" the German said, confused.

"Wrong answer", Eloise said pleasantly, squeezing down on Falke's throat,
choking him. After ten seconds had elapsed, she once again eased up. Looking
down into the contorted face of her victim, she repeated her offer.

"Beg me not to kill you and I may spare your life".

Chapter 7.

Schnabel was a little disappointed. He had expected more of a reaction from
the tall, slim, beautiful woman sitting before him, her long legs crossed as
she listened patiently to the little Gestapo man's evidence and deductions.
Through it all, Louise had sat still, a little enigmatic smile played about
her full red lips. Even when he had produced the garrotte that had killed
Corporal Voss, her beautiful blue eyes betrayed no emotion or showed signs of
recognition. Towards the end of his monologue, The Gestapo man was again
beginning to have his doubts. Could a woman really take the life of a fully
trained soldier using nothing more than the strength of her own body? Had he
got it so wrong. His disappointment turned to astonishment at Louise' reaction
when he finished.

"Congratulations Herr Schnabel", she said. "You have, more or less, discovered
our secret. We are indeed the elusive Maquis, which you have been looking for.
Shall I fill in the missing pieces for you?"

Schnabel, his mouth agape nodded dumbly. He was experiencing a mixture of
emotions. Satisfaction at having correctly located the enemy, which had
inflicted such devastating losses on the Nazi forces, puzzlement at how easy
it was going to be to obtain a full confession from the woman and annoyance
that he would not need to torture it out of her. He made a mental note to
torture her anyway... to death.

Nobody need know. He would teach this bitch to deny him his pleasure. But
first he would listen to her confession.

"My real name is Louise and I am not French, but English, although I have
lived in France for many years. I worked for the British Secret Service as an
assassin during the Great War. Working behind enemy lines, I would seduce,
senior German officers and obtain secrets from them, regrettably, sometimes by
torture. I would then dispose of them, very similar to the way that my girl's
dispose of you Nazis. You see like yourselves, the Imperial German Army could
never believe that it was possible for a woman to strangle a man to death. But
it is quite easy if she is determined and employs the right technique. I was
never suspected.

After the war, I married a French Count, he died when the Nazi's invaded.
Murdered in cold blood by the SS. So I decided to strike back. I took the name
La Venger, "the avenger". With the money my husband had left me, I bought the
Chateau and started to recruit the girls and train them in the ways of the
assassin. I knew that we would be relatively safe from the Nazis if we were to
offer them a service, hence the cover that we are whores for the pleasure of
your officers. Not pleasant, but a sacrifice that we are all willing to make
to rid the world of you Nazis. Later on we joined forces with the British SOE
and the American OSS. Since then, as you know, we have been systematically
attacking the occupying forces with impunity. Perhaps what you don't know is
the number of Germans we have captured and taken to the cellar of this very
building for interrogation before being disposed of. We send the information
to England. In fact we have a prisoner in the cellar at this very moment. He
is going to help us in our attack on the garrison tomorrow night".

Louise could see that Schnabel was confused.

"I know what you're thinking", she said. You're thinking why am I telling you
all this? Well the answer is simple. I am telling you all you want to know
because you are not going to have the chance to tell anybody else. You will
not leave this room alive".

Louise stood and started to walk toward the little man.

Schnabel reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a Walther P 38. He pointed
the pistol at Louise and said, "That is far enough Madame. Sit back down"

"Put that away", the woman replied smiling and continuing to advance. "It
doesn't work anyway. I had Karen remove the firing pin, when you left your
coat in her office this morning. She followed you, heard you briefing your two
SS friends and alerted us. You see Gauleiter, you have walked into a trap".

"I will not warn you again", the little man said, his voice beginning to rise
in pitch. The woman continued toward him as if she had not heard the threat.

Schnabel pulled the trigger and was rewarded by an impotent click as the
pistol failed to fire. He tried again and again but the weapon was only so
much useless metal in his hand. He was suddenly very afraid of the tall woman
advancing on him. He backed toward the door.

"Get away from me !", he shrieked and threw the pistol at Louise, who easily
dodged it. He reached the door and discovering it was locked, started to bang
on the wooden panels with his fist.

"Falke. Hilf mir!", he shouted.

"I don't think Falke is in any position to help you", Louise said. "In fact I
think Falke is already dead, or very soon will be". She regarded her hands and
flexed the long beautifully manicured fingers. "It has been a little while
since I personally took care of a Nazi but don't worry. I am quite capable".
She raised both her hands in front of her as she spoke.

Wailing piteously, Schnabel dodged the outstretched hands reaching for his
throat and ran to the window. Johnen was his only hope.

"Hilfe, hilfe", he yelled and the suddenly stopped as he gazed out of the
window, horrified at the scene being played out below.

He saw Johnen on his back, on top of Karen Jagerin, stretched out along the
back seat of the Kubelwagen. His body was held fast by the Captains'
scissoring legs as she garrotted him. The soldier's eyes were bulging and his
tongue protruded from his mouth. Karen had a look of grim determination on her
pretty face as she worked the stocking tight around her victim's neck deeper
and deeper into his windpipe. Schnabel saw that Johnen was looking directly at
him, his arms outstretched toward the Gestapo officer imploringly, begging him
to save him. But there was nothing he could do for the SS man. Besides his own
life was in danger. He turned back to face Louise. The woman continued her
slow advance, a calm and confident look on her beautiful face. Schnabel edged
along the wall until he reached a corner and he realised that the tall woman
had him corralled. He began to beg.

"P..please don't kill me. I have influence, money. You can have it all if you
let me go. I won't tell anyone. Please. What do you say".

"Generally, when we kill, it is because it is absolutely necessary. We are not
like you Nazis. It was your choice to invade this country, your choice to
inflict atrocities on it's people. Now it is time for you to pay. We kill
Werhmacht soldiers, because we cannot keep prisoners for more than a few days.
We take more pleasure in killing SS soldiers because they are more deserving
but when a member of the Gestapo falls into our hands, it is indeed something
special. Karen wanted to take care of you herself because of what you did to
her father, but as you can see, she is a little busy at the moment. So it is
left to me to send you on your way. Don't beg or plead for your life and try
to die like a man".

Louise stood in front of the terrified man. Looking down on him with calm blue
eyes, she placed her hands around his trembling neck, placing her thumbs, one
on top of the other on his prominent adams apple. She regarded the little man
for a moment, stood before her then began to squeeze.

Chapter 8

Johnen could feel Karen's hot breath against the side of his face and could
hear her panting through what he thought was exertion. Some of it was, but
some of it was sexual. Her crotch was tight up against the Nazi's body, her
nyloned legs crossed before him holding him fast. His writhings and struggles
were driving her toward orgasm as was the realisation that she was taking the
life of the SS man caught in her grasp, with nothing more than her own
strength. She bit down on her lip as the first wave of ecstasy built up inside
her and moaned gutturally as she climaxed, causing her to grip with her legs
and pull on the garrotte all the more.

Johnen heard Karen's moans in his airless world begin to fade as death
approached. His booted feet dangling over the side of the car, kicked out at
the empty air. His hands were on the girl's thighs in one last desperate
attempt to free himself. Karen felt him weakening. She saw that his face was a
deep colour of purple and she knew that the end was near. His kicking legs
slowed until they made a series of spasmodic jerks and finally stopped. His
hands fell away from her thighs and he lay still. Karen maintained her
stranglehold for a couple of minutes more, just in case he was faking. She
then let go of the stocking and with tingling fingers, searched for a pulse in
the Nazi's wrist. There was none.

Breathing heavily, the beautiful blonde slowly unwound her legs from the dead
man and heaved his body off of her. He fell into the footwell of the car, his
hideously bloated and discoloured face stared sightlessly up at her. Karen
methodically worked the stocking out from the deep creases in Johnen's neck,
where it had become embedded and returned the garment to her bag. She climbed
out of the Kubelwagen with trembling legs and entered the Chateau.

Chapter 9.

Eloise was enjoying herself. Here was Falke, on his back, trapped between her
legs, begging for his life.

The fact that she had reduced this big soldier, one of the Nazi's elite to a
snivelling wreck was acting very much as an aphrodisiac to the pretty killer.

"Please don't kill me. I beg you", he was saying.

"I can't hear you. You'll have to try harder", she teased, all the while
slowly tightening her grip with her legs around his throat, making his task
impossible. His pleading voice became more and more strained until he could no
longer form coherent words, just a series of choking and gagging sounds.
Spittle flew from his mouth as the pressure from the girl continued to
increase. His hands, grasping the leg across his throat could gain no respite,
such was her strength. His tongue began to protrude from between his teeth and
his eyes, rolling in their sockets began to bulge.

Eloise chuckled throatily as she gazed down on her victim, getting turned on
by his gurgling. She felt no pity for the man beneath her, just contempt for
what he stood for, and sexual desire in snuffing out his life. She had brought
him to the brink of death three times before allowing him to recover. Now it
was time to finish him. Watched by Irene and Michelle, their eyes bright,
betraying their own excitement at the Nazi's impending demise, Eloise lay back
on the carpeted floor and concentrated all of the considerable strength in her
legs into strangling the life from the SS man.

Falke's gurglings ceased abruptly as his airway was sealed off. He renewed his
attack on her legs but nothing he tried was having any effect. Eloise closed
her eyes, imagining what it must be like for the man in her grip, desperately
trying to draw life saving breath but not being allowed to do so. She thought
about what her legs must be doing to his neck muscles, crushing the cartilage
of his voicebox flat. She suddenly and violently came, the wave of orgasmic
pleasure causing her to cry out.

"Yes!", she screamed. "Oh yes. Die between my legs you Nazi bastard. Taste my
revenge".

Falke, his tortured lungs screaming for air began to weaken. Eloise could feel
the force of his hands tugging at her leg begin to lessen. She sat up again to
see that his face had turned purple and was swollen and bloated. Tiny blood
vessels had burst in his bulging eyes, giving them a pink appearance. Saliva
drooled from the corner of his mouth, ran down his face onto her stockinged
thigh.

"Ugh", she uttered disgustedly and concentrated her efforts anew. She was
amazed at how the big man was clinging to life. It was taking considerable
time and strength to kill him. She gathered her strength for a moment and
poured it down onto the stricken Nazi. His hands left her legs, pawed at the
air for a while and then fell to the ground, twitching. His eyes ceased their
mad rolling and stopped and his legs jerked once or twice and were still.

Michelle knelt down and felt for a pulse in the Nazi's wrist. She looked at
Eloise, smiled and nodded.

Panting heavily, Eloise lay back down and uncrossed her ankles. She stayed
there for a while as her breathing returned to normal with her right leg
draped over the throat of the dead soldier.

Chapter 10

The little Gestapo officer was proving to be no match for his tall brunette
killer. Schnabel's hands gripped Louise's wrists as he attempted to wrest her
strangling fingers from his throat but he found them immovable. His eyes,
beginning to bulge from their sockets looked even bigger, magnified by the
thick lenses of his spectacles. His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish as
he desperately tried to draw air into his tortured lungs and his face started
to take on a reddish colour.

Realising that the woman was too strong, Schnabel released her wrists and
redeployed his attack going for her eyes. Louise countered by simply
straightening her arms so that the little man was unable to reach her. In
desperation, Schnabel then kicked out striking the woman on her left shin.
Louise winced at the blow.

"That will leave a bruise", she thought angrily. She would have to control
him.

Louise started to step backwards, forcing the choking man held in her grip
with her. She guided him around the room, aligned him with the bed and backed
him towards it. Never relinquishing her grip, she flung her victim onto the
bed and quickly straddled him. Her robe opened, once again revealing her long
shapely legs, clad in silky smooth nylon. As she sat on him, Louise noted with
disgust that the man trapped beneath her had an erection. Schnabel squirmed
and wriggled, trying to slide out from beneath her, but the brunettes superior
weight and her gripping thighs, held his body in place as she wrung his neck
with renewed vigour, determined to rid the world of this vermin.

Schnabel's face had deepened to a purple colour and his tongue, blackening,
protruded from between his teeth. Still he tried to beg for his life but all
he could manage was a series of gurgles. His bulging panic stricken eyes
stared upwards into the calm beautiful blue ones of his assassin as she
methodically continued to snuff out his life. Louise felt a grim satisfaction
knowing that the man she was squeezing to death was Gestapo. She made a small
grunting sound and surprised herself that destroying Schnabel was turning her
on. As the Nazi's struggles started to decrease, so her sexual pleasure
increased until she could hold it back no longer, moaning as she climaxed over
the dying German' body. Her orgasm had caused her fingers to spasmodically
tighten around her victim's neck, driving her thumbs ever deeper into his wind
pipe, greatly accelerating the choking man's death. As the waves of ecstasy
gradually subsided, she noted it would soon be over for the Nazi. Such was the
strength that she was squeezing his throat, Schnabel's bulging eyes were
actually touching the glass lens of his spectacles. The German's hands were
pawing the air weakly and his feet jerked. The last thing he saw was Louise'
beautiful face smiling, looking down on him and then everything began to fade.
His hands fell and his feet slowed to a series of weak twitching and stopped.

Breathing heavily, the woman collapsed across the still form of the Nazi.
After she had recovered from her exertions, Louise climbed off the corpse, and
unlocked her door.

Outside Eloise, Irene and Michelle were half dragging, half carrying the dead
SS trooper down the stairs where they unceremoniously dumped his body into the
back of the Kubelwagen on top of the garrotted Johnen.

Karen greeted Louise with a hug and stared down into the hideously bloated
face of Schnabel. The blonde German Captain could clearly see the imprints of
Louise' fingers in the bruised skin around his neck. Karen was pleased that he
had apparently suffered before he had died, her only regret, that it had not
been possible to kill the loathsome Nazi herself. She spat on Schnabel's
corpse before turning her attention to the rest of the plan.

Chapter 11

The bodies of Johnen and Falke were driven to the woods by Karen in the
Kubelwagen to be found a couple of days later by a wandering patrol. After
off-loading the dead Nazis, she drove back to Femville.

Schnabel's body never was found. Karen reported to Kessler that the Gestapo
man had talked about his fear of being sent to the Russian front if he was
unable to locate the dreaded Maquis and she was quick to opine that he must
have deserted. Kessler was enraged but had had to agree. Schnabel's details
were soon being circulated and he was officially classed as a fugitive.

For Louise and the girls, Schnabel's discovery had been an unwelcome
distraction but had been effectively dealt with.

Now as the girls gathered together in the drawing room of the Chateau, Louise
began the briefing for the next night's mission.

To be continued.