The procession swept through the open gates in a seemingly never-ending stream. Janetzsky watched as six Schwerer Panzersp??hwagen 232s led the way, their 20 mm autocannon trained to either side of the road. Eight trucks full of troops followed - and in the middle of them, the Mercedes-Benz 770. A couple of Volkswagen K??belwagen cars full of officers followed, and then more trucks and 232s brought up the rear.
A few months ago it would have been an impressive sight to Janetzsky's eyes. Now she smiled as she contemplated how much fun it would be to charge in there and tear every last one of those vehicles and men apart with her bare hands.
She could tell the sentries on the gates were having similar thoughts.
The last month or so had seen some changes at the base. Production of her Amazons was now up to an impressive two hundred and fifty per day. Almost fifteen hundred a week flowed out towards the Eastern front, where the horrified Russians were falling before them.
But she had kept some back. Not too many; fifty. But those fifty had taken complete control of the base and everyone within it. A few had been made into bloodily gruesome entertainment for the girls... and in the process, the other males in the camp had been thoroughly and permanently broken into slavery. Every one of her girls had half a dozen or so males devoted to her now.
Funnily enough, the camp ran better than it ever had before. Any normal work force always contained malingerers, and even the most dedicated worker took breaks for coffee and a cigarette, spent time daydreaming about family, wondering what they would do at the weekend, or any one of the hundred other things people did to break the monotony.
But a slave to an Amazon thought about pleasing his Goddess, and nothing else. In fact the girls had to be careful in the orders they issued, lest their slaves literally worked themselves to death. Ulla, who had been a mousey little typist before her conversion, had proven to have a particular genius for organising the technical staff. She had better than thirty of them under her thrall, and in their desperation to please her they produced results like never before.
And now best of all, Speer, one of her own slaves, had convinced the Fuhrer himself to come and visit the facility that was producing his new wunderwaffe. Him, some of his senior aides... and his 'companion', Eva Braun. Janetzsky smiled as the big luxury car swept up to the main building entrance and pulled up, her eyes fixed on Braun. Oh yes, things were going perfectly. Absolutely perfectly.
After the greetings there was a reception, of course. It had been a tedious affair; Hitler and his staff had wandered around, nodding politely as they were introduced to the various members of the project's staff. Janetzsky had ordered her girls to dress properly for the occasion; the Amazons preferred to walked around in the skimpiest of clothing, or indeed in nothing at all. They loved their bodies, loved to show them off to the world. And they loved the effect it had on an un-enthralled male, too - that beautiful mix of lust and nervous fear.
For now, though, they would play the part of the dutiful soldiers. The time for dropping that pretence would come very soon indeed.
Eventually her turn to meet the glorious Fuhrer came. She was distinctly unimpressed; he had looked up at her, blinking a little in surprise, and made a few inane comments about how large she was and what a service she was providing for the German people. Janetzsky looked down at him and wondered how a skinny little dark-haired man had ever convinced himself that he represented an Aryan master race.
She found herself nervous at the prospect of meeting Eva Braun, though. It was a strange feeling - Amazons didn't typically feel nervous about anything, they were practically drenched in self-confidence. In this case, though, she supposed she could understand it. It was, after all, one of the more momentous moments of her life. In a way, she supposed, it was what her entire life was all about.
Eventually, she managed to introduce herself. The little woman smiled up at her, a much more genuine smile than Hitler had managed, and shook her hand politely. They chatted for a few minutes, and Janetzsky offered to show her around the base a little.
* * *
Braun smiled up at Jantezsky a little nervously. It was hard not to be frightened of the woman - she was fully seventy centimetres taller than Braun herself, and must have outweighed her by better than two to one. But there was something about her features, especially the eyes... when the Doctor smiled down at her, Braun found herself oddly reassured.
They wandered through the building, seemingly at random. Now and again they would enter a room and Janetzsky would show her tanks of chemicals, banks of machinery, and a dozen other strange things. She tried to explain a little of the process, but it was so complicated that in the end Braun simply resorted to nodding and smiling.
Finally they came to an elevator which took them deep down into the bowels of the complex. Janetzsky unlocked a heavy metal door and led her through... then another even larger door... and then another.
Beyond the third lay a large almost bare room. At the far end stood a curious metal sphere, about ten feet across. The surface was partially open, revealing a leather seat within and a large empty space behind it. The rest was a gleaming silver, like a giant ball bearing of polished chromium. Half a dozen large metal suitcases sat in front of it.
"And what is this?" Braun asked.
Janetzsky smiled that reassuring smile. "Let me explain a little something about physics to you Frau Braun," she said. "Have you ever heard of a 'timeline'?"
Braun shook her head. "I have not, I'm afraid."
Janetzsky nodded and went over to a wall with a large blackboard on it. She took a piece of chalk and drew a long line on the board. "Imagine all the events of your life, written down in sequence. Like a calendar, perhaps, only with all the boxes placed into a long line instead of arranged in squares." She marked the line at a point near the left hand end and wrote '1912 - birth' under it. "So here on the line is the year of your birth. And here," she made another mark with 1914 - Great War under it. "Is the beginning of the Great War. Then the end here, a few years later." She went down the line, adding further marks and notations. "In 1921, the divorce of your parents, then in 1922 their remarriage. Over here is the beginning of the war. And a little over to the right is 1943, today, with us having this conversation. And further to the right we could add more events as they unfold."
Braun nodded.
"Let us suppose, for the sake of this conversation, that I had not created this project. What might the future have been like, do you think?"
Braun shrugged. "I am no fortune teller, Fraulein Doctor."
"The war had already turned badly against us at Stalingrad," Janetzsky said, adding a mark. "We were struggling in the East, and badly outnumbered there. Without my girls, Kursk would have been an extremely difficult battle for us. Practically impossible to win."
"I'm sure our brave soldiers would have managed," Braun said firmly.
"Perhaps. But let us assume that they did not. With Russian numbers constantly increasing, let us suppose they pushed us back, and back, and back. All the way to Poland, all the way to Germany, and eventually all the way to Berlin. Let us further suppose that the Americans and British launched their invasion on the French coast. We all know they are preparing one. Suppose it comes in 1944, around June."
"Fraulein Doctor, you do an awful lot of supposing. And I am not sure the Fuhrer would appreciate the direction that your supposing takes," Braun said icily.
"Perhaps. But simply supposing in order to explain a way of looking at events does no harm, does it?" Janetzsky said reasonably.
Braun sighed. "Not as such. But it is inappropriate."
"Well, perhaps you will indulge me. So with the war reaching this tragic end, what would be the fate of our beloved Fuhrer? A tragic one, to be sure. Murdered by the allies, perhaps. Or worse, not murdered, and instead kept penned in some cage somewhere, like a circus attraction."
"Never that," Braun said sharply. "He would do anything, anything at all, to avoid such captivity. And so would I."
Janetzsky nodded slowly. "I am sure that is true. And one might wonder what your children might think of that."
Braun shook her head in exasperation. "I have no children, Fraulein Doctor."
"No, not yet," Janetzsky said. "But the future might bring anything, might it not? With the Russians closing in, the Fuhrer would want you away from harm more than anything, yes? Might he not make arrangements for your safety, perhaps? Might he not charge some reliable person with ensuring your escape from Berlin? All in the very utmost of secrecy, of course. He himself could never travel in such secrecy for long - he has the most recognisable face in all of Europe! So we may speculate that he would send you away, whilst he remained behind.
"We may further speculate that he would arrange some form of deception, a story to tell the world, that you and he met some sad fate before the Russians could seize you. With that story spread around, nobody would be looking for you. You and he would be dead in the eyes of the world... and that would give you your chance to escape." Janetzsky marked the line with '1945 - Hitler dies. Braun escapes in secret'.
Braun stared at her uneasily. There was something about the way she was saying all this...
"Now let us further suppose that you escape all the way to some safe place where you and like minded others could live. A place in, oh, South America. And let us suppose that around the time you arrive there, you come to realise that you are with child. A little girl, born there almost nine months after your escape." Another notation for 1946 was added to the line.
"Let us imagine that your descendants continued to live there for decades, even centuries. Yours and the Fuhrers."
"What you describe is monstrous," Braun said.
"I agree," Janetzsky said simply. "And one of your descendants, might well become obsessed with this monstrous injustice of history. Let's call her Franziska, on the assumption that she was named for your mother, her noble ancestor. Say she was born in 2162, just about two hundred and twenty years from now. Franziska might look upon the tragedy of your life, and become determined to do something about it. She might even spend her life working to find some way of doing something about it."
"That makes no sense," Braun said. "What could be done about the past?"
"What indeed," Janetzsky smiled. "It is impossible... to us. But then, how many things does Germany achieve today, that were impossible only fifty years ago? Many, yes? So who can say what miracles may be achieved in the next two centuries and more? Our hypothetical Franziska might spend her whole life working on this problem. She might become so obsessed with it that she passed that obsession on to her daughter, who was born in 2198." It was Janetzsky's turn to look nervous now as she set the chalk aside and sat on a chair facing Braun. "We could suppose her obsession with you led to her naming her own daughter after you... a nice bit of symmetry, since she herself was named for your mother. And let us suppose still further that her daughter, little Eva, continued her mother's work, until eventually she procured a device which could solve her problem."
"But how," Braun whispered, incredulous.
"Well, here we have the timeline... the representation of all the events of your life, and after your life. What if an amazing new technology came to exist? A device that could allow one to travel back along that timeline, to visit the past or the future much as you and I might visit a different house, or a different city?"
"You are talking about a time machine!" Braun said excitedly. "Like that book, by the Englisher!" She turned to look at the glittering metal sphere, eyes widening.
"Mr Wells," Janetzsky said. "Yes, exactly so."
"Mein Gott..." Braun whispered as she turned back to Janetzsky. "Can it be so?"
"Ja, mine Vorfahrin," Janetzsky whispered. Her eyes brimmed with tears. For a long moment the two Evas faced one another, then suddenly they were in one another's arms. Janetzsky cradled her ancestress in her arms with infinite gentleness, afraid that even the slightest hug might harm her.
Finally they broke away. Braun glanced at the blackboard and frowned. "But... that story you told me..."
"That is the truth I grew up with, vorfahrin," Janetzsky said. "That is how this war ended, in the original timeline - in tragedy and defeat. The reason I came here in that," she gestured towards the machine, "is to make sure that such a thing does not happen. I brought the Amazon technology from the future to change history and create a new timeline. That, and some other helpful technologies." She marked 1928 on the line. "This is when I arrived. I had some equipment from the future with me, but even so it took fifteen years of effort to create the equipment for my process." From 1928 she drew another line down, and then across parallel to the first. "I have altered events, splitting off an entirely new timeline here, to make another, different version of events. Some things will be the same... others will be different. Very different."
Braun stared at the board, then glanced at the spherical machine at the far end of the room, the large metal cases set before it. She thought for a moment about what wonders they might contain. Finally she looked back to Janetzsky. "How can I help?" She asked finally.
"Well," Janetzsky said with a smile, "first we need to put you through the process."
Braun stared at her. "You want to make me... like you?"
Janetzsky nodded. "Believe me, vorfahrin, it is the only way. Germany must win this war - must conquer the world! And the only way to do that is for the Aryan Amazons to take complete control. Of the war, of the country, of the people. It is absolutely necessary that we do so... and you must be part of that. To be part of it, you need to become one of us."
"I'm... I'm afraid," Braun whispered.
Janetzsky nodded. "So was I," she admitted. She moved over to where Braun sat, kneeling before her and taking her hand. "And I can't promise you what comes next will not be difficult. But it's the only way. And trust me... afterwards, you will understand completely. And you will be so glad you did it."
Braun slowly nodded. "Very well. But do it quickly... before my courage fails me!"
* * *
Hitler made his excuses and left the reception after an hour, going to the room which had been prepared for him. He sat contemplating what he had seen so far. He was deeply troubled by it.
He could not deny that this project, these women, had changed the course of the war. He had never doubted for one moment that the war would be won, of course. The humiliation of Stalingrad burned in him, but he had only ever regarded it as a temporary setback. The army would have rallied and reversed its fortunes once more, sooner or later. It was the inevitable destiny of the Master race.
But he had to admit, the reversal he expected had been a long time in coming. After Stalingrad there had been month after month of retreat. Every inch of lost ground was a further shame, and at times it seemed there would be no end to it.
Now, in the space of a few months the entire course of the war in the East had been changed. It was the Russians' turn to retreat, and they were suffering tremendous casualties along the way. These 'super soldiers' were slaughtering them, plain and simple - they seemed never to tire of blood and death. They showed no mercy, took no prisoners... they were like living engines of murder and destruction.
And that was what made him uneasy. These women were no women at all! A woman's place was in the home, he reflected, where she could bear many children and raise them straight and true, to serve the Nazi state. Women should be quiet, demure, submissive. Not these incredible things that defied nature. He had seen his own guards looking at that director, that Janetzsky woman, at the reception. They'd been afraid of her! What kind of woman could make a man afraid? It was madness.
They had to make this process work with men. Janetzsky claimed that it was impossible - something about the differences in the blood of men and women, something she called 'DNA'. His advisors could make no sense of it, but she seemed to know what she was talking about.
He had directed the project to put every effort into finding a way to make the process work with men. Janetzsky had blandly assured him that those efforts were being made, but that there was no progress yet. He wasn't at all sure that he believed her.
Use them and dispose of them, he thought. That was the way to do it. Six months of this, a year at most, and the Russians would be utterly defeated. Once that was done, he could get rid of these freaks and-
At that moment, the door crashed open. Hitler spun, shocked, as two giant figures burst into the room. Towering, muscular, naked figures! His mouth fell open as he glimpsed the bodies of his guards on the floor outside, dead or unconscious. He started to demand an explanation when he realised that one of the women was none other than Janetzsky, the project director. The other...
No! It could be! It' couldn't be! But it was. Eva! His Eva!
She stood naked before him, a muscular goddess standing fully 225 cm tall. Every centimetre of her incredible body rippled with strength and power, yet it was undeniably feminine in shape and proportions. His eyes went to her now enormous breasts, standing with a firmness and pride that no merely human woman could hope to approach. Her face was different, somehow, still recognisably his Eva, but subtly changed in a way that made her heartbreakingly lovely.
She was a terrifyingly beautiful figure. For a moment his mind blanked out, unable to process what he was seeing. He snapped back to reality as the two women smiled, approaching him.
"Guards!" He bellowed. The ones outside his chamber were probably dead, but somebody must be around!
"Oh, don't bother with that," Janetzsky said. "Our sisters have been unleashed on your men. They're going to spend the next hour or so dying... and those who are spared will not be in any mood to help you."
Hitler stared at her, incredulous. Surely, he thought, she couldn't imagine that her freaks could defeat his entire bodyguard unit! For all the reports he had read, he still had not really grasped the true invincible power of a group of Aryan Amazon warriors.
"So," Janetzsky said to Braun as they approached, " shall we kill him, do you think? I confess, I would much enjoy ripping his arms and legs off."
Braun smiled, and suddenly her beautiful face frightened him. He backed away, aware that he was whimpering slightly. From somewhere in the distance, a chatter of machine-gun fire sounded, followed by the slower, louder, thump- thump- thump- thump of a 20mm cannon. It cut off a moment later, replaced by a surprisingly loud scream.
"Can we do that?" Braun asked. "Won't it change that timeline thing? If I don't have children... surely you would never be born?"
Janetzsky shook her head. "It doesn't work that way, my beautiful ancestress. I am from the original timeline. No matter what we do here, that line still exists in parallel to this one. We can do whatever we want!"
Braun smiled. "Well, I don't want to kill him. I loved him once, odd as that might seem. But now... well, I still care for him. He's like... well, I will have him as a little pet," she announced. "That's it, he will be my little pet Hitler!" She snickered.
"Well it's simple enough to break his mind," Janetzsky said with a smile.
"Oh, but Doctor, not like that," Braun said. "If I break his mind, he will want to be my slave forever, yes? It will be the only thing he can want. But I don't like that idea, not for him. I want him to be humiliated... I want him to spend every day for the rest of his life remembering when he ruled half of Europe, and wishing it could be so again... and knowing that it will not, because I have reduced him to nothing more than a little pet. I want him humbled."
Janetzsky smiled tenderly towards her ancestress. "Oh Eva," she said softly, "that's so beautiful. Well, by all means, let us begin his humiliation now."
Hitler found his voice. "Eva!" He shouted. "You cannot do this!"
Braun strode across the room in a flash. One giant hand reached out and wrapped around his throat, lifting him clear off the floor. He gurgled and thrashed ineffectively as she laughed at him.
With her other hand she reached up and tore his jacket and shirt open. Janetzsky laughed and stepped over to help; in seconds, they had him naked.
"Tell me," Braun cooed, "why can't I do this? What is to stop me?" She walked over and tossed Hitler onto the bed. He tried to scramble away, but Janetzsky tossed him back like a little doll, then knelt behind him, holding him in place.
He dimly heard the sounds of more firing from outside, with grenade explosions mixed in. More screams sounded, some cutting off abruptly after a few seconds, others... most decidedly not.
"You know something, Adolf?" Braun said. "For years, I have listened to you talk about Aryan superiority. How you are a member of the Master race, and that because of that, it is your destiny to rule the inferior. Well tell me, my little pet, who is the superior here, and who is the inferior?"
She reached down, pinching his arm between her fingers. Hitler howled in pain as fingers like steel dug into his muscles. "Look at this arm, for instance," she said. "So thin. So weak. I could crush your arm between my fingertips... tear the muscles, shatter the bones into a hundred pieces. But my arm..." she took his hand and placed it on her bicep. "Squeeze. Squeeze, or I will crush your hand to jelly! Do it! Do it!"
Hitler squeezed her giant bicep. His breath caught in his throat at the feeling... like soft velvet draped over granite. She flexed her arm, and the muscle swelled impossibly under his fingers. He squeezed as hard as he could, terrified at what this field might do to him if he did not. Even then, he made no impact on her incredible muscles at all, not the slightest dent.
She laughed, seeing the shock and humiliation on his face. "Who has the superior arm, my little pet? Who is the Aryan here? Tell me, is it you? Or is it me?" A threatening note entered her voice. "Tell me!"
"It's... it's you..." he whispered, horrified at the admission.
She reached out and touched his abdomen, pressing ever so gently. Hitler screamed as her fingers sunk deep, tearing into the stomach muscles. Braun threw her head back and laughed, pressing here and there, each touch bringing a fresh scream. "Oh such a loud noise you make!" She laughed. "Such pain, from such a little caress! Is this the voice of the Master race, Adolf? Well, why don't you have a turn. Hit me in the stomach, as hard as you can. Go on, I won't stop you not punish you in any way. Hit me!"
He snarled in anger and threw a punch at the thickly ridged muscles of her abdomen. Had he been in the frame of mind for rational thought, he might perhaps have considered what was likely to happen when an unprotected human hand punched something as hard as that bicep had felt beneath his fingers. But the punch was driven by pure anger and a lust to avenge his humiliation. He used his undamaged arm and threw everything he had into it, every bit of hate and anger and even fear. He was punching for his life, and he knew it.
His fist slammed into her, and there was a cracking sound as several of his knuckles snapped sharply. Her muscles gave not one millimetre; he may as well have punched a granite cliff face. He howled in agony, clutching at his broken hand.
Eva Braun ran her fingers over her stomach, tracing the centimetres-thick ridges of muscle there as she smiled in satisfaction. "You see, my pet, who has the superior stomach! It is I, is it not?" He stared at her, terrified and thoroughly intimidated now. "Well, pet? Who is the superior?"
"You are," he whispered.
She giggled. "Yes, I am." She spun around, lying on her side. "Feel my thighs, my calves. Caress them, compare them to your own. Take your time."
Janetzsky shoved him forward and his hands went to her thighs as if of their own accord. He whimpered at the pain in one arm, the other fist - but even through the pain he could feel the incredible power in her legs, her muscles practically throbbing with endless strength and vitality. She was a Goddess of muscle, a power beyond any imagining. For a moment he was overwhelmed with it.
He had spent half his life convinced that he and the other true Germans were a superior form of humanity, the descendants of the greatest humans who ever lived. Now, here he was in the presence of truly superior beings. It was almost incomprehensible to him - his mind was reeling as it tried to accept two contradictory facts at once, leaving him paralysed with cognitive dissonance. His hands crept down her legs, stroking, touching, feeling the compound curves of her body. And everywhere, every single place he touched, was infinite hardness and superior strength.
"Worship me," Braun whispered. "Worship your Goddess Eva like a good little Hitler."
He did. The thought appalled him, but he was terrified of disobeying.
At length, she sat up. A hand closed around his neck again, and she smiled as she rose and tossed him towards the desk. He hit the floor tumbling, and thumped solidly into one of the thick wooden legs.
In a flash he scrambled up, yanking the drawer open and reaching inside with his good hand. He pulled out a 7.65 mm Walther PPK. Braun raised an eyebrow, making no move other than to place her fists insolently on her hips as Janetzsky came round the bed to stand beside her. Hitler thumbed the safety catch off the little automatic and whimpered a little as he drew the slide back with his damaged hand. He brandished the pistol. "You betrayed Germany!" He screamed. "You betrayed National Socialism! You betrayed ME!" His voice rose, hysterical with anger. "AND NOW YOU WILL DIE!"
He squeezed the trigger. The gun made a crack, startlingly loud in the room, followed almost instantly by a snick-thud as it bounced off Braun's abdomen and spent itself against the brick wall.
Braun's lips curled into a smile. "Feel free to continue," she said, her voice loaded with mockery.
Crack! Crack! Crack! Shot after shot rang out. Hitler stared, wide-eyed with shock as he saw the bullets bouncing off the body of the monster which his beloved Eva had become. They hit her stomach, her breasts... he could see each one hitting with perfect clarity, little blurred flicks as they bounced harmlessly off. They didn't penetrate, didn't scratch or even mark the skin, didn't so much as cause the slightest of dents in those steel-hard muscles. One round hit her straight in the eye, making her blink in surprise - but it bounced off like all the rest, and she simply smiled.
Click! The gun was empty.
Hitler backed away as the two enormous women walked towards him, their smiles turning into soft mocking laughter. He backed himself straight into a corner, shivering in fear as his back hit the walls. He hurled the gun as hard as he could. By luck more than skill it hit Janetzsky on the bridge of her nose, bouncing off harmlessly. She caught it as it fell to the floor, regarding it in her hand for a long moment. Then her fingers curled inwards, and the automatic crumpled in her hand like paper. Somehow the little groan of stressed and tearing steel, whilst far quieter than the shots had been, was infinitely more menacing. She tossed the weapon aside.
"You will be punished for that, my pet," Braun said softly. Her gorgeous face twisted in a cruel sneer. "Is that what a good pet does, disobey his Mistress, his Goddess! Well now you will see what disobedience brings!"
She grabbed Hitler and dragged him to the desk where she sat on the chair, throwing him over her knee. Without any hesitation she raised her hand and then slapped his bottom. Although she used less than a hundredth of her strength her hand hit with stunning force, almost breaking his pelvis. He howled in agony as she slapped him again and again, spanking him relentlessly with blows that were carefully just short of lethal. His behind was reddened in seconds as deep bruises began to form in the muscles.
"No!" He screamed. The agony was beyond anything he could have imagined. "Please! No! I'll do it! I'll do anything, just please, stop!"
"You've been a bad pet!" She snarled, her sudden rage terrifying in its intensity. "You need to be punished, and punished you will be - and I will decide the extent of the punishment, not you! Just as I will decide every other aspect of your life from now on!" She slapped again and again, like some relentless machine.
Finally she decided he had been punished enough. She pulled him upright in her lap, noting that his entire buttocks were a single enormous and rapidly darkening bruise. She held him to her body, cradling his head to her enormous breasts gently as he began to sob. His lips found her nipple and he instinctively began to lick and suck on it and he wet her breast with his tears.
"There there," she murmured. "You were bad, and you have been punished. It's all over now, my pet. You're forgiven. Shhhhhh, there there, it's okay."
She comforted for a long time, just holding him to her whilst she whispered in his ear, listening to the screams of agony and death outside as her sisters enjoyed themselves with his men. There was no more firing now, no more explosions; only the music of suffering and enslavement. A couple of hours ago, it would have horrified her. Now, it was the most beautiful music she had ever heard. Eventually the sobbing stopped, and he began to relax.
At last she lifted him from her lap. "You disobeyed me, and resisted my authority," she said. "That was very naughty of you, but you've been punished and it is all over now. I forgive you, my little pet. Just be sure never to be naughty like that again, or your next punishment will be far more severe. Now, we have a little work to do," she said. "First, I will dictate to you a document. You are going to appoint Doctor Janetzsky as your deputy. You will state that she speaks with your voice, and acts in your name, and that any order from her is an order from you which must be obeyed without question. You will state than any resistance or questioning of her authority will be considered as treason, and that the person who does so will be subject to immediate execution without trial."
"No, I can't-" he started to say.
"What did you say to me, my pet?" Braun said quietly. "I didn't quite hear it."
Hitler thought very quickly for a moment. "Yes Goddess," he finally whispered. He could hardly believe that his own voice had said the words.
She nodded impassively. "I thought you might have said something like that. "Now, after the letter, you will appoint a number of my sisters as your personal bodyguard. And then, we will order all senior government Ministers to assemble for a conference. Every one of them is going to be broken to the power of the Amazons, one way or another."
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