WHAT SABER AND HIS SUPERIORS wanted to know were the names. Jewish names. Names of certain people existing within the very Third Reich who had gotten their present positions by subterfuge.

Smelling their extermination, like buzzards sensing decaying carrion on the wind, many Jews had fled. Others had, for one reason or another, stayed behind. Most of those who stayed had been rounded up. Some, though, had been clever. They'd changed names, forged papers, bribed petty bureaucrats. They now masqueraded as pure Germans. Such utter audacity!

And here was little Marta Solomon who would soon be naming names, just like little Mehetabel Moiyan had told Saber of the Steiger family--who hadn't really been Steigers at all.

"Come now, Marta," Saber said. "I shall give you one more chance. You tell me what I want to know, and I'll call my men to take you out of here. Wouldn't you much prefer a nice clean bed to this cold and hard floor?"

Oh, God, she hurt! Mentally, Marta tried to isolate one single place inside or out which didn't ache. She was unsuccessful. She hurt everywhere. She was just one big agony. And this German bastard was insinuating there would be more pain, more agony, more hurt, unless...

God help her. She couldn't tell him. She couldn't! She'd been Melissa's friend forever. If she talked, they would bring Melissa here. They'd bring Anna and Wilhelm. How could Marta talk and subject any of them to this?

Saber motioned for the two soldiers who stood by one wall. They came at his nod. They undoubtedly thought Saber was going to give them leave to again use the girl's body for their cocks. Josef had especially enjoyed Marta's tight virgin ass. Karl was less excited than he might have been, because he liked mouth; Saber had ruined that for Karl with the first blow of the swagger stick. Still, Karl had fucked the girl in the cunt once and, then, taken sloppy seconds up her ass. His cock was hard again. It was a big cock, evident in its present ridging of the young soldier's left pants leg.

"I want her moved over there," Saber instructed, pointing to a spot across the room. He was afraid he was going to have to disappoint them. After all, he had given them first whack at the little bitch. That was better treatment than they'd have gotten from any other interrogator. Take Stillman, for instance. Stillman personally went through mouth, cunt, and ass, in that order. And when he finished with each, he made sure no other cock would follow suit. The women and girls who came out of his sessions were hardly recognizable even as members of a subspecies. Stillman's assistants invariably came out with their hard cocks still large, their balls turned blue from frustration.

If Saber believed in sharing (after all, the way things went, you never knew when one of the soldiers here today would be promoted and useful tomorrow), that didn't mean, he was generous to the exclusion of his own passions.

Saber's cock was hard. It had been hard for a long time. It had gotten harder when Saber had seen Josef fucking the girl's ass, harder yet when he'd seen Karl fucking her cunt and then her butt hole. Then, if possible, it had gotten even harder as Saber had been forced to proceed to more violent methods of interrogation when the girl refused to talk.

Marta groaned when they hefted her. They treated her with less concern than they would a sack of potatoes. But, why should she expect any more at this late date?

They dropped her, back against the floor, after having half carried and half dragged her to where Saber had indicated. They looked disgustedly at the mess her bleeding had left on their hands and clothes. There was something especially disgusting about a Jew's blood. It never seemed to wash out, and it stunk like pig sty.

"Drop the bar, Josef," Saber instructed. There was a foot-long bar hung by its center from a rope suspended from the ceiling. From each end of the bar was suspended a length of chain. By untying an end of the rope from a bracket trailing one wall, the weight of the bar and its chains lowered, via a dual pulley system.

"My little Jewess pig bitch," Saber said and nudged Marta's body with his boot toe to be sure she was still conscious. "Do you know what butchers do with their meat? They hang it on meat hooks. They hang it for days and days and days.

Marta stirred. She tried to sit up. Her head throbbed. Her vision kept going in and out of focus. Colonel Saber's voice came to her on waves: loud, soft, loud, nonexistent. What was he saying? Meat? Hanging? What did he want? What did any of them want? Why couldn't they let her alone? She was so tired. She hurt so much.

Saber went to the cabinet by one wall. He knelt. He opened the third drawer on the left. He lifted out two large hooks, shutting the drawer before standing.

"Aren't these beautiful?" Saber asked, extending one hook in each hand. They were made of polished steel, each curved wickedly to a barbed point. They were about a foot across at the curve. At the opposite end from the point, each hook had a dime-sized eyelet. "Made especially for hanging sow."

They'd smashed her face. They'd raped her cunt and her ass. They'd beat her. They'd cut her. What would they do to her now? Hang her like a pig? On hooks? Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God!

Saber watched for Marta's reaction. It was very difficult to read what the girl was thinking. Her face was such a distorted mass of twisted flesh. Her eyes were puffed and almost swollen shut. Her nose was obviously broken, nostrils clotted with blood, set off-center. Her mouth was twisted almost into a grin, lips cracked and bleeding.

Josef had lowered the bar and its chains to Saber's chest level. The Colonel reached for one of the chains. He snapped the end of the chain to the eyelet of one hook. He repeated the process with the other chain, the other hook.

"Prop her up, Karl," Saber said.

Standing at the girl's head, Karl squatted and slipped his hands underneath her armpits; he tugged her body upward and shuffle-walked forward.

Marta found herself in a partial sitting position. Her back was propped against Karl's knees. The German soldier held her, secure.

Saber stepped to straddle Marta's body, facing toward Karl. Saber squatted, the ass of his trousers hovering above the cum and blood-drenched hair on the girl's pussy. He nodded toward Josef by the wall. Josef lowered the bar, chains and hooks farther. Saber caught the hooks in his hands. He held them for Marta to see.

"You might as well tell us what we want to know," he said and moved the metal hooks so that the light from the bare bulbs reflected in the polished steel. "We'll soon have both your parents and your sister. If you don't talk, they will."

That told Marta one thing. So far, her parents and sister were still safe. Had they come back to the apartment and seen the cars? Had they seen her being dragged away? Had they fled? To freedom? Where was there freedom? Hitler's men were everywhere. There were so few havens for the Jews anymore; none of them close at hand. This enemy Colonel was probably right. They probably would capture her parents. They probably would capture her sister. Marta shuddered, not at her own pain and anguish, but at what would soon become of those she loved.

"Names, please," Saber said. When Marta didn't answer, he sat his ass even nearer her cunt. He dropped both of his knees to the floor, holding her lower body encased between his bent legs. He nodded for Karl to hold the girl's arms.

Karl caught first one of Marta's arms and then the other, pulling them straight back behind her body. He put a knee in the small of her back. The girl's ribcage thrust forward.

With his left hand, Saber reached out to palm Marta's right tit. The flesh was warm, full-blown. With his right hand he brought the sharp end of one hook over and into place. The point touched the pink flesh on the underbelly of Marta's right breast.

"Names?" Saber asked again. When Marta didn't answer, Saber stuck her tit with the barbed point. With persistent pressure, he drove the point inward and upward, feeding more of the curved metal into yielding flesh.

Marta thought there could be no greater pain than that she'd already endured. She was wrong. The searing jolt of agony now sun-bursting from her right tit to the rest of her body was unbearable in its extreme. All her eyes registered were staccato flashes of bright red. She threw her head back, her throat taut with stretched tendons. She opened her mouth to scream, but she couldn't seem able to make any sounds. Her lips moved; her tongue lolled.

Saber kept force-feeding the hook into the tit until the barbed point of the hook blossomed with a spouting of blood through the top of the creamy breast. Blood oozed outward from the emerging point, drooling over the upper curvature of pale flesh. Beneath his butt, Saber could feel the woman's body jerking like a fish out of water. He adjusted the lay of his cock against his left leg. His cock was hard, very hard.

Saber recognized the symptoms of upcoming unconsciousness in a victim: the glazed eyes, the drooling mouth, and the slack facial features. He retrieved an ampoule from the pocket of his uniform and cracked it beneath Marta's nose.

The pain-numbed girl inhaled the released fumes. She took the foul smell deeply into her lungs and choked on it. She felt herself returning to greater awareness. She helplessly fought to retain the unconscious state into which she had, but moments before, been slipping. At least, while closed in by complete blackness, she had been temporarily relieved of the pain.

"Pleeeeease!" Marta whined; her voice sounded like a siren running down. Her head fell forward on her neck. For a brief instant, she saw the blood-smeared steel sticking free of her creamy jug. She puked green and red bile over her tits. The mess drooled down and over belly.

"Names?" Saber insisted. He now hoped that she wouldn't give the names--not yet. Even if she did, he didn't know whether or not he'd stop what he was doing. After all, Josef and Karl had had their fun. It was now the Colonel's turn.

Names? Marta wondered what names. Who was she, for that matter? Who was this smirking man dressed in black? Why couldn't she move her arms or legs? Why was she sick to her stomach? Why did she ache? What was that wicked looking thing peaked through the flesh of her right breast?

Colonel Saber took the second metal hook, suspended from its chain at the opposite end of the bar. He hefted the bulk of Marta's left tit with his left hand. He put the barbed point to the juncture of the tit and the woman's ribcage. He exerted pressure. The hook punctured the flesh. An oozing of new blood exited the puncture, streamed down the woman's belly and disappeared amid the blood and puke-smeared hair at Marta's crotch.

Marta passed out, dropping into welcomed oblivion. She smelled the fumes of another smashed ampoule and actually managed--momentarily--to resist the drug's efforts to revive her. It was so peaceful in the void into which she'd successfully slipped. Was death as peaceful?

Colonel Saber remained diligent in his efforts to bring the girl around. He'd had enough experience to know that, even if the young woman thought she had reached the limits of her endurance, she was wrong. In the end, his efforts were rewarded.

Marta's eyelids fluttered and then shot open to reveal her glassy stare. Her pupils were dilated. She choked on the last remaining ampoule-released fumes.

"How nice of you to decide to rejoin the party," Colonel Saber said, smiling. "We really missed you, there, for awhile."

Marta, her chin drooped, could see the barbs poked through both tits. He'd double-gaffed her like two fisherman landing a tuna.

Oh, why couldn't she just die?

"Handcuff her hands, Karl," Colonel Saber said.

Karl unfastened the pair of cuffs from his belt loop and proceeded to do as he'd been told. He cuffed Marta's hands behind her back and, then, released all support.

For long, uncountable seconds, Marta felt the weight of her upper body supported only by the two hooks stuck through her jugs. Her punctured mammary tissue began to rip. She screamed. She screamed again.

Josef, by the wall, gave more slack to the rope. Marta was allowed to collapse from sitting position to supine. She fell back onto her bound hands, smashing them beneath her. The chains went to piles of collapsed metal links on her shoulders. The metal bar came to rest on her neck, tipping to one side as it did so. The metal, as the end touched the floor, echoed a metallic noise.

Colonel Saber had temporarily ceased his interrogation. He had personal needs that needed satisfying. He began unbuttoning the fly of his uniform trousers.

Karl took his cue. He walked around the Colonel and the girl to Marta's feet. He squatted and took hold of Marta's ankles.

Colonel Saber pulled his cock and accompanying balls from his uniform. His was a big and powerful cock, glutted with blood, slippery with its pre-cum goo. Its corona was completely shot free of its foreskin. The excess skin had become a mass of wrinkled turtle-necking around the flaring edge of the glans. The cock meatus was long, deep, and slightly off-center. The hole was pink, beaded with a pooling of translucent juice. The cock neck was latticed with large and twisting veins that trailed blue lines along the otherwise startling whiteness of the cock shaft like dark ivy about the thick trunk of a tree.

At the base of the Colonel's cock roots, sprouting free of his trouser fly, was a bushing of trimmed and neatly clipped pubic hair. The Colonel's bull-like balls were shaved hairless.

Saber maneuvered his legs in between Marta's thighs. Karl, at the girl's ankles, pulled Marta's legs apart. Simultaneously, he kept her from kicking, although Karl didn't think Marta much up to kicking, when you came right down to it.

Marta's hands were a cannon ball under her back. Her arms were elongated bumps on which she was forced to lie. Her head was forced back on her neck. Her neck muscles were taut. Her tits were two mounds on fire.

With a small grunt, Colonel Saber fisted the white shaft of his cock. He positioned his cock head to the velvety divide of Marta's pussy.

Marta was so caught up in her world of pain that she was completely unaware when Saber's cock drove deeply inside her.

Karl continued to hold Marta's legs secure at the woman's ankles. He kept Marta's thighs open until Saber's cock was in full-depth. Then, as if Marta's legs were the handles of a human nutcracker, Karl brought them together, clamping cunt around Saber's submerged hard cock. Saber adjusted by lifting his one leg and then the other, dropping them to the outside of Marta's body. When finished, Saber's cock was still inside the girl, but he held Marta's lower body entrapped within the vise made by his own muscular thighs.

Karl really couldn't understand what pleasure his Colonel could get out of fucking the Jew bitch in her present condition. She was obviously almost dead. Karl preferred his fucks to have a bit more life in them. But, then, this scene always seemed to be just what the Colonel needed to get his rocks off. Go figure! Different strokes for different folks.

Marta bucked her hips. The action was more of a spontaneous reflex, spawned by pain, than it was from any pleasure in, or rebellion against, Saber's fucking cock.

Saber curled his hands under the small of Marta's back. He moved his fingers upward. His fingers folded up and over her shoulders near her neck. He held to her, his hips fucking with short, rabbity punches. He enjoyed the way his hard cock moved in her pussy. He liked the way his cock stirred up the female juices and the stale spunk left up her hole by Josef and Karl's previous explosions.