FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT!

Part One:
Phillipa Berg

The Gestapo and other security forces were assembling outside the ReichsLodge in Phillipa Berg (formerly Canberra), the capital of Australia.

"Phillipa Berg?" Kyle Konrad risked asking.

"The Supreme Führer Phillipa Bergerman simply continued with the Albanese Clause, which states that all towns in Australia must have both an Indigenous and an Anglo-European name," explained his supervisor, Oberst Gruppen Führer Gwendolyn "Gwen" Myles, a tall, athletic, crew cut redhead in her late forties, dressed in the bright gold uniform of the female SS: "Until now the clause has only been applied by adding Indigenous names to all towns originally having Anglo-European names. Quite rightly, the Supreme Führer has decreed that it must work both ways, with Anglo-European names being added to places originally given indigenous names only. Naturally the obvious choice for 'Canberra' was Phillipa Berg, after our Supreme Führer, Phillipa Bergerman!"

"Naturally," agreed SS-Sturmscharführer Kyle, careful to keep his contempt for the Supreme Führer out of his voice: "But how come I wasn't informed about the change in advance?"

"Because, Sturmscharführer, you are a male, therefore in the lesser Waffen-SS and thus deemed not important enough to send an email to," said the redhead, quoting SS doctrine, while trying not to sound too harsh, since she had become quite fond of Kyle during the eleven years that he had been under her command: "Hence your dowdy green Waffen-SS uniform, instead of the pure golden uniform of the full female SS!"

"But why does being a male doom me to never rise above the Waffen-SS?" he risked asking; having over the last eleven years come to trust Gwen Myles -- as much as any man could afford to dare trust any woman in the modern 'equal' Australia.

"To maintain equality, by keeping women in charge," she explained: "Back in 1983, under Bob Hawke, the Australian Lesbians Party, now known as the Australian Nazi Party, started the policy of promoting women ahead of men, regardless of qualifications, until by 1993 we had a strong matriarchy in charge of Australia. This has made Australia a stable fascist society like the Evil Empire and the Evil Kingdom in modern times and Nazi Germany back in the 1930s and 1940s.

"To maintain this stability, men have to be kept severely in their places. Only through total female rule can we have a fair equal fascist society!"

"But how can it be fair or equal, if only women have any power?" asked Kyle, regretting the question as soon as he had asked it.

"Because the Supreme Führer has deemed it so!" replied Gwen, letting the anger come through as she spoke.

"Of course, Oberst Gruppen Führer," said a chastened Kyle, clicking his heels to attention: "No disrespect to the ruling female elite was intended."

"I should hope not, Sturmscharführer," said Gwen; a little more calmly this time. After watching the blushing blond man for a moment, she decided that it had been just a momentary lapse in judgment on his behalf. Therefore, it did not require reporting him to her superior, Reich's Führer-SS Madelyn Cooper. People who were reported to Madelyn Cooper had the habit of vanishing out of history. Which meant potentially dozens of their friends and family also 'ceased to have ever existed'.

As they talked, people started moving on the lawns outside the ReichsLodge.

A rather dowdy-looking crew-cut brunette of sixty-something, the Supreme Führer Phillipa Bergerman, walked out onto the lawns, surrounded by twenty or so heavily armed golden-uniformed female Gestapo agents. These were her elite female squad of most trusted agents, who would die, if necessary, to protect the Supreme Führer.

At the first sight of the elite squad, the seventy thousand golden-uniformed Gestapo agents, and thirty-thousand green-uniformed Waffen-SS agents snapped to attention:

"Seig Heil to the Chief!" shrieked Gwen Myles and all of the SS leaders; resulting in all one hundred thousand SS and Waffen-SS agents raising their right hands in a traditional Roman-Nazi salute, while shouting:

"Seig Heil to the Chief!

"Seig Heil to the Chief!

"Seig Heil to the Chief!"

Before loudly snapping their heels together and presenting arms -- in the case of the female SS agents; the male Waffen-SS were not trusted with any form of weapons.

"Greetings to my loyal SS..." said the Supreme Führer. Then, after a moment's hesitation: "And to the Waffen-SS.

"As you are all aware, since coming to power eleven years ago and appointing myself the Supreme Führer of Australia, therefore doing away with the need for time-consuming and costly elections, I have continued to look for ways to reduce costly waste in the government ... and the military services."

She hesitated for a moment before saying: "In Nazi Germany, my namesake, and inspiration, Adolf Hitler, the original Führer, reduced waste by having the original SS slaughter their predecessors the SA..." As the thirty thousand Waffen-SS agents began to look around themselves nervously, she hastened to add:

"I, of course, am planning nothing so drastic. I am grateful for the assistance that the Waffen-SS has provided me with over the last eleven years. Especially in helping to put down resistance from rebels opposing the natural order of female rule. However, it is now time to do away with your services. As of the first of next month, the Waffen-SS will be no more. And you can all get on with your lives, seeking whatever alternative employment that you might be able to find."

Raising her right arm in a Nazi salute, the Supreme Führer Phillipa Bergerman shouted: "Seig Heil to the Chief!"

"Seig Heil to the Chief!

"Seig Heil to the Chief!

"Seig Heil to the Chief!" shouted back heartily the seventy thousand gold-clad SS agents.

The thirty thousand green-clad Waffen-SS men stood silent, too shocked to know what to say.

"We're out of work," said Kyle to no one in particular.

"I'm afraid so, Kyle," said Gwen, calling her assistant by his Christian name for the first time in over a decade: "We were informed by email last week ... but I didn't know how to tell you..."

She stopped and turned away, unhappily, realising that her assistant had wandered away, with the morose green-clad Waffen-SS, without bothering to listen to he, or 'Seig Heil to the Chief!' as he was required to do by Australian law before departing the company of a superior Gestapo agent.

"Oh, God," said Gwen under her breath, realising that she would miss the blond man. She had started to regard Kyle as a friend of sorts, even though it was frowned upon, if not actually illegal, for SS agents to have anything but a working relationship with Waffen-SS members.

"I'm being dumped after fifteen years in the Australian Air Force, then eleven years in the Luftwaffe and the Waffen-SS," muttered Kyle to a long-time friend of his Sturmscharführer Mikhail Moore, a tall grey-haired man in his early sixties.

"You should worry," said Mikhail as they wandered off across the artificial-grass lawns together: "I started in the Australian Army aged twenty; then after forty-three years I was expecting to retire on a full military pension in six years from now. But they don't give full pensions to anyone leaving the military below the age of sixty-nine."

"And I won't be able to keep paying into my pension fund unless I can get another job quickly," said Kyle: "So whatever pension I get at age sixty-nine won't be enough to live off."

As they walked across the artificial grass, just two of thirty thousand confused muttering men, Mikhail asked: "Why didn't men rise up against the evil matriarchy in the twentieth or twenty-first century before things got too far out of hand?"

"Quiet," whispered Kyle, sensing that other Waffen-SS agents were listening to them: "You could get us both arrested and, along with our friends and family, erased from history."

"We ought to rise up!" shouted Mikhail, alarming Kyle.

A number of Waffen-SS agents stopped to listen; some half-heartedly agreeing; others wondering if they could save their own jobs by turning in Mikhail and possibly Kyle too. Of course, Kyle had not agreed with Mikhail out loud, but the matriarchy had never required much proof, if any when it came to allegations made against the male of the species. Going all of the way back to the days of the Affirmative Action Gestapo -- the first Australian Gestapo agency --, when men were convicted of sexist behaviour or even stripped of their Australian citizenship and deported on the flimsiest of 'evidence'.

"We ought to rise up!" shouted Mikhail again; forcing even his best friend, Kyle, to abandon him.

Along with most of the Waffen-SS who hurried away; while the remainder pressed their shirt buttons to activate hidden recording devices.

Too angry at the Supreme Führer Phillipa Bergerman to go home sober, and not ready to face his beautiful but frigid wife, Debbie Oberman, Kyle headed instead for Hobson's Choice.

For fifty years or more, most Australian public houses had not allowed men to enter, unless accompanied by a woman. However, Jack Hobson, a tall apelike man of indeterminate age had realised that since most men drank a lot more than most women, increasingly so under the modern matriarchal society, he could do a roaring trade selling to single men who were barred by his competition:

Stepping into the pub, Kyle strode across to the bar and ordered: "Give me six hundred millilitres of lager, with a double whisky chaser."

"Gotcha, Kyle," said the homely, but friendly Hobson, pulling the beer, then reaching up to fill a small glass from one of the whisky bottles: "How're they hanging, mate?"

"Low at the moment," said Kyle: "The Bitch Cunt Führer has just made me and the entire Waffen-SS unemployed."

"Jesus!" said Hobson. Partly in shock at what he had just been told; but mainly because of the risky way that Kyle had said it. Leaning forward as he accepted Kyle's debit card, he whispered: "Have a care, mate, remember the walls have ears ... and eyes, and recording devices these days too."

Kyle downed the so-called chaser first, then shouted: "Damn the bloody walls, let them hear for all I give a shit!"

As Kyle continued cursing fate and the Supreme Führer, many of the all male drinkers openly stared in amazement or hurriedly left the pub; others listened surreptitiously, many operating hidden recording devices, or using their mobile wrist phones to record the monologue.

"Take a care, mate," warned Hobson, afraid of losing one of his best customers. Then, when Kyle kept 'blaspheming' against the Supreme Führer, the barman strategically moved down to the opposite end of the bar, seemingly to serve other drinkers. But in reality to distance himself as much as possible from the ranting man for when the shit finally hit the fan. As Hobson had no doubt it would do before the night was out.


Hobson was relieved when the clock finally struck midnight closing time, and he was able to say: "Everyone out! Closing time!"

A few of the hardened drinkers muttered complaints at having to leave their home away from home - Kyle wasn't the only man with a frigid wife in the age of women no longer being required to let their husbands have sex. However, most of the drinkers hurried away, those who hadn't left early, not wanting to be around when the Gestapo came for Kyle, as most were certain that they would soon.

"Silly bugger," said one drinker out loud as he hurried outside; despite secretly agreeing with Kyle, as most of the men did.

Finally, only Kyle and Hobson remained in the pub. Clearly, Kyle was too drunk to get himself home, and equally clearly, Hobson had no inclination to risk being caught helping him home if the Gestapo did turn up looking for the drunkard.

"Out you go," said Hobson, half-leading, half-carrying him outside.

Originally he had planned to leave Kyle lying on the footpath. But then seeing a taxi parked across the street, the barman hurried the drunken man across the road and ushered him into the back seat before the cabbie could realise how drunk he was and lock the doors to keep him out.

"Take him to this location," said Hobson, hurriedly writing down Kyle's home address. He handed it across along with a $50 note.

"He's not gonna throw up in my taxi is he?" asked the worried-looking cab driver.

"Almost certainly," said Hobson, handing the cabbie a second $50 note: "Hopefully this will pay for the cleaning bill."

"Lousy bastard,' said the driver snatching the second fifty from Hobson.

Part Two:
Man Must Lead; Woman Must Follow One Pace Behind!

They had almost reached the tenement building where Kyle and Debbie lived and still the drunkard hadn't vomited in the taxi.

"Made it," said the cabbie in relief, pulling up outside the tenement.

Unfortunately, the taxi jerking to a halt made Kyle throw up, not in the back seat, but over the front passenger seat.

"Jesus, why do I even do night shifts?" muttered the Cabbie. He looked to the heavens for a moment, as though awaiting an answer.

Finally, in frustration, he climbed out of the cab to all but carry Kyle up the front steps. Checking the front directory, he saw that Kyle lived on the fourth floor.

"Hell, I'm not carrying up you four flights of steps," said the cabbie, hammering the up button beside the small elevator.

He was considering abandoning Kyle when to his amazement the elevator doors chinged open.

"There really is a God," said the cabbie, bundling Kyle into the elevator: "The lifts are almost never working in these tenement houses."

Hearing footsteps inside, even though it had gone 12:30, the cabbie knocked on the door to room 411 and was soon facing an angry-looking Debbie Oberman.

Sighing in frustrated anger, Debbie said: "Bring the drunken sot in and dump him on the couch."

"Gotcha," said the cabbie. He had planned to hustle her for another fifty, by telling her about Kyle chundering in his taxi, but seeing how angry she looked, he decided not to push his luck. Tossing Kyle onto the two-person sofa, he said: "See ya."

Then strategically he headed back to the elevator ... which had now stopped working, as he realised after waiting for ten minutes.

"I'm too kind-hearted, that's my problem," said the cabbie as he started down the steps; forgetting that he had planned to fleece Debbie.


"You can stay there for the night!" said Debbie, looking contemptuously at her dishevelled husband, whose legs hung over an arm of the couch.

She headed off to bed, partly angry still, partly relieved that she could sleep alone. When they had married, soon after they both transferred to the Gestapo, she had tried unsuccessfully to convince Kyle that they would be both happier in single beds. However, that was one issue in their loveless marriage, which he had refused to budge upon.


Kyle finally went into the bedroom at six in the morning, nearly sobered up, carrying a large brown paper bag. After clicking on the fluorescent light, he immediately started ranting about the 'Bitch-Cunt Führer'.

"Shut up you stupid sot, or I'll report you to my bosses at Gestapo headquarters!" warned Debbie.

"I've just been sacked from my job, you stupid cunt!" he shouted into her face with his beery breath.

"What for?" demanded Debbie; assuming it was his fault.

"The Bitch-Cunt Führer has decided after eleven years that she doesn't need the Waffen-SS anymore!"

"She's probably right, women make much better Gestapo agents..." said Debbie, silenced by Kyle punching her in the face.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch!" shouted Kyle, although Debbie was already unconscious, thus no longer talking.

Realising at last that he was wasting his time shouting at her, Kyle went across to the brown paper bag which he had lain on the floor beside the bed and took out some pinking shears. Not bothering to try undressing her, he used the shears to cut Debbie out of her clothes, not for the first time admiring her full chest and generous backside; although Debbie had always preferred to dress and undress in the bathroom so that he would not see her naked, and get ideas.

He ran his hands at first sensually then lustily across her full breasts, squeezing them hard, before rolling her over onto her belly to pore her backside for a few moments.

"Jesus, what a waste, she's got all this, and she never lets me touch it," he said, before going back to the brown paper bag.

He took out a pair of handcuffs, which he had stolen from work before going to Hobson's Choice, and cuffed her hands behind her back. A beautiful ravenette, Debbie was barely a hundred and sixty centimetres tall, but what there was of her was voluptuous in a 1950s way. A fact that she had always hated since it gave Kyle and men in general ideas.

Taking two long leatherette straps from the bag, he spread wide her legs, then tied them to the bottom legs of the bed. Then he gagged her with a clean pair of her panties, before awakening her.

"Wha...?" muttered Debbie, at first not remembering what had happened, or understanding what he had done to her.

"Don't worry, Deb, I've stopped you from nagging at me, as you like to do. This way I don't have to listen to your foul whining, and you don't have to be punched in the face again. It's a win-win situation as the Yanks say."

Hearing his words, Debbie suddenly remembered what he had done to her. She tried rolling over and discovered that she couldn't.

"I've got you cuffed and tied to the bed, Kyle explained. Leaning right down, he shouted into her face: "From now on things are gonna change, around here, bitch! As of now, this unit is a dyke-free zone!"

Debbie considered telling him that she wasn't a dyke, she just wasn't sexually attracted to him, but then wisely thought better of it. Grateful that the panty-gag had prevented her from blurting the truth out.

Taking the pillow from his side of the bed, Kyle placed it under her groin, to raise her backside a little off the bed.

What...? wondered Debbie, unable to see what Kyle was up to as she heard him rustling through the items in the brown paper bag.

Kyle took a thick leather strap from the paper bag and leant down to shout at her: "I'm gonna beat the badness out of your beautiful arse!"

He then swung the strap over his shoulder and started strapping her back and arse furiously.

"I'm gonna beat the badness out of you or kill you trying!"

Oh, Goddess save me! thought Debbie, unable to believe the level of pain that the strap delivered to her unprotected arse and back. She wished that she could use her hands to protect herself, but cuffed behind her, they were of no use to her.

"I'm gonna beat the badness out of you ... beat the badness out of you ... beat the badness out of you ... beat the badness out of you!" he shouted in increasing hysteria as he continued to lash Debbie's unprotected backside and lower back ... seemingly for hours. But in truth for less than twenty minutes.

Oh, Goddess, kill me now! Kill me now! Kill me now! silently prayed Debbie, wondering how she could live through the excruciating agony. Wondering whether Kyle's savage anger would ever abate. She realised that he was more enraged at the Supreme Führer Phillipa Bergerman than he was at her, but since the Supreme Führer was unreachable, Debbie had to stand in for her. That had been the case in Australia since the 1980s when the Affirmative Action Gestapo had first started promoting unskilled women ahead of skilled, experienced men -- demanding that small businesses fill in thousands of forms a year to show how they were promoting unskilled women ahead of experienced, skilled men. Unable to punish the Australian Lesbians Party for their sexist behaviour, men had started taking it out upon their women: domestic violence and wife murder had skyrocketed, abandonment and divorce had gone sky high, and rape inside and outside of marriage had both hit the ceiling. All caused by the sexism of promoting women based upon their gender, rather than promoting people based upon their skills, experience, and competency.

"I'm gonna beat the badness out of you ... beat the badness out of you ... beat the badness out of you ... beat the badness out of you!" shouted Kyle for the final time. Stopping, finally, partly because he had also beaten the rage out of himself, and partly because Debbie's backside had gone from pink to red, to purple. Although he hated the evil matriarchy that Debbie unthinkingly supported, he did not want to kill her, knowing that even if she had opposed the regime, she could not have brought it down. No one person can bring it down! he thought: Especially since the Bitch Cunt Führer abolished elections eleven years ago.

Oh, Goddess, kill me now! Kill me now! Kill me now! silently prayed Debbie, thinking that he was planning to keep whipping her until she died. But to her surprise, Kyle suddenly threw the strap onto the bed beside her.

Leaning down till his face was almost touching hers, Kyle demanded: "Have you learnt your lesson yet, bitch!"

Unable to answer, Debbie nodded her head furiously in agreement.

"Have you learnt to respect me yet, bitch!"

Again she nodded vigorously, deciding that fear was close enough to respect. At least to stop him from hurting me anymore! she hoped.

"All right, bitch!" he shouted at her, less hysterically than before: "There are new rules in this house now. From now on I'm gonna fuck you whenever I like, wherever I like, as often as I like ... through whichever body hole that I want ... got that?"

Debbie nodded frantically as the sun started to breakthrough under the two-centimetre crack beneath the bedroom curtain. She should have been getting up soon for breakfast before leaving for her job in the SS headquarters in Phillipa Berg. But she suspected, correctly, that neither of them would be going in to work that day.

"Good," said Kyle, almost calmly. Getting onto the bed behind her, he placed his large hands onto her glowing purple behind and started to rub and pore the round cheeks.

Oh, Goddess! she shrieked silently, having thought that the previous pain level was the worst that she could ever experience; now realising that she had been wildly mistaken. Oh, Goddess, please kill me now! she thought as Kyle continued rubbing and groping her backside.

"What a fantastic arse!" said Kyle: "I am going to be groping this sweet pair of peaches every day from now on."

Leaning down he shouted into her left ear: "Right, bitch!"

"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!" said Debbie, nodding frantically.

"Good cunt!" said Kyle, despite his rage having largely abated.

Taking a container of cold cream out of the brown paper bag, Kyle rubbed it onto Debbie's abused backside, making her start at first, then sigh in relief as the cold cream started to ease the agony in her behind.

"Now, bitch, I'm taking my conjugal rights," said Kyle, getting more furious nodding from Debbie.

Lifting her rear up a little, he squatted between her spread thighs and penetrated her vagina with his rampant erection.

Debbie couldn't help moaning in surprise at the size of him. It was so long since they had made love that she had forgotten how well-hung he was. However, despite being unready for the penetration, the pain of the thrusting was nothing compared to what the strapping of her backside had been. Then she began to lubricate so that the thrusting ceased to be painful, and despite her terror, she soon started to thrust back up at him, as much as she could tied face down on the bed.

Oh, Goddess! Oh, Goddess! Oh, Goddess! thought Debbie, realising to her surprise, that despite being raped by her husband, she was on the brink f climaxing. She wondered: Am I such a kinky bitch that this is what I have always needed? A strong man to take me by force like men used to do to their women before the days of the matriarchy!

"Oh, God, that was wonderful!" said Kyle, blaspheming by saying 'God instead of 'Goddess' as was now required by Australian law, as he ejaculated deep into Debbie's voluptuous body.

Oh, Goddess! Debbie cried silently as the ejaculation caused her to climax for a second time: Oh, Goddess! Oh, Goddess! Oh, Goddess! Why have I always hated sex if it can be this good?

"Oh, God!" repeated Kyle, collapsing on top of Debbie: "Who knew that sex could be so good? Maybe I need to strip you and tie you face down to the bed every night!"

"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!" muttered Debbie, flushing in embarrassment as she realised that she had enjoyed being dominated by Kyle. Am I kinky or something? she wondered.

Finally, recovering his breath, Kyle knelt on the bed again and picked up the container of cold cream again.

"This is where you really get a chance to move up from a bad wife, as you've always been, to a good wife!" he said taking a rubber glove out of the brown paper back.

Putting the rubber glove on his right hand, he smeared the fingers with cold cream. Then, without giving her any warning, he slammed his pointer finger into the ravenette's anus.

"Aaaaaaaaaah!" Debbie tried to scream, but it came out as, "Eeeeeeeeeeer!"

For the next ten minutes or so, Kyle tugged and stretched Debbie's anus, first with just the pointer, then with both pointer and index fingers. Determined to reduce the agony of sodomy to at least a bearable level.

Oh, Goddess! thought Debbie, thinking that she had now encountered the worst pain that she would ever experience in her life until Kyle said:

"Sorry, Deb but if I don't loosen you up first, my cock will almost kill you when I slam it in."

Oh, Goddess! What! thought Debbie, hoping that she had misheard or misunderstood him.

However, all too soon, Kyle withdrew the two fingers from her sphincter and ripped off the rubber glove, which he threw into the small wicker basket near Debbie's dressing table. Moving up hard against her, he warned:

"For God's sake don't clench, or you'll reverse the benefit of the stretching."

"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!" muttered Debbie, realising that he was right, yet instinctively clenching despite herself when he slammed forward and penetrated her anus with the glands of his penis.

"Aaaaaaaaaah!" Debbie tried again to scream, but once more it came out as, "Eeeeeeeeeeer!"

He gave her a playful pat on her still sore behind, and then ordered: "Unclench!"

"I'm trying, she attempted to say. But it came out as: "Eye eying!"

"We're in the navy now!'' Kyle teased, as taking hold of her curvy backside, he slammed forward with all of his might, driving a few more centimetres in through her clenching sphincter.

"Eeeeeeeeeeer!" shrieked Debbie, finally managing to force her sphincter to unclench, which took them both by surprise, allowing Kyle to plunge most of his manhood deep into the ravenette's bowels.

"Eeeeeeeeeeer!" shrieked Debbie again as Kyle finally started thrusting his penis in and out of her backside. Firstly slowly, then with more and more urgency.

Oh, Goddess! thought Debbie, actually praying now as her husband sodomised her for the first time in the eleven years of their marriage.

"Oh, God! Oh, God!" gasped Kyle, unable to believe the incredible tightness of Debbie's bowels: "I'm having a lot more of this from now on!"

Oh, Goddess! thought Debbie again. Only hoping that the pain level would finally reduce when -- if? -- she finally became used to the sodomy.

It seemed to go on forever, but finally, Kyle withdrew his penis and bukkaked Debbie's back; which wasn't as bad as ejaculating into her ravaged behind.

Oh, Goddess, thank you! thought Debbie.

Leaving Debbie tied on the bed, Kyle went into the en suite to have a quick shower, before returning to the bedroom.

Walking round to the head of the bed, he warned: "Keep quiet when I remove the gag; or your arse will suffer again. Understand?"

Debbie nodded furiously.

Removing the panty-gag, Kyle said:"Bite me, and it will be the last thing, you ever do!" He leant down to put his face almost touching hers to add: "Understand, woman!"

"Yes," whispered Debbie, startled as Kyle put his glands into her mouth.

"Start sucking, woman!" ordered Kyle.

Despite having never fellated a man in her life, and having told Kyle on their wedding night that she would never do anything so disgusting -- in her opinion -- Debbie began licking her husband's penis in a very unskilled way.

"Jesus, you've never done this before, have you!" said Kyle angrily.

Grabbing Debbie by the ears, he slammed his penis deep down into her unprepared throat. Then held her in place, despite her frantic struggles.

"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!" gasped Debbie, desperately trying to pull back from the massive object cutting off her breathing.

"Get used to it!" said Kyle, harshly: "You'll be doing this a lot for me from now on!"

"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!" cried Debbie, gasping for breath.

As she tried to pull away, Kyle held the ravenette in place as her face started to go blue, then reluctantly pulled back until only the glands were in her mouth.

"Breath in!" he ordered.

"Oh, Goddess!" muttered Debbie, desperately inhaling and exhaling three or four times.

"God!" shouted Kyle, startling Debbie: "I'll have none of that blasphemous dyke-feminist twat in this house from now on. Understand!"

"Yes! Yes! Ugh!" said Debbie; her last word cut off as Kyle unexpectedly thrust forward again, sinking his manhood to the crotch into her throat.

Then with no consideration for his wife, Kyle held Debbie in place by the ears, and took a ruthless face fuck, with no pretence of making love. Just rutting like a sex-crazed animal.

"Oh, Jesus!" cried Kyle as he ejaculated down Debbie's throat, before pulling up enough so that the final spurt landed on her tongue.

"Oh, God..." muttered Debbie, stopping just in time before risking angering Kyle by saying 'Goddess'.

Holding Debbie's nose painfully, Kyle ordered: "Now swallow!"

Not daring to anger him, Debbie did as instructed.

"Now close your lips tightly to get the last of it as I withdraw!" ordered Kyle, and Debbie did as instructed.

Kyle went around to the rear of the bed to untie Debbie's feet, then, leaving her hands cuffed, carried her into the en suite to douche her, then give her a hot herbal enema to help heal any damage.

"Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!" cried Debbie, almost unable to stand the pain of the enema. She was careful this time not to blaspheme by saying, Goddess!

Finally, he showered her, then carried Debbie naked, but wrapped in a large white towel back to their bed.

"From this moment onwards, this apartment is returning to old-fashioned values," said Kyle, carefully placing Debbie on her right side so that she would not be on her still stinging backside: "In the Old Testament slash Torah, God says, 'Man Must Lead; Woman Must Follow One Pace Behind!' From now on we are returning to that good Christian tradition, understand?

"Yes, darling," said Debbie meekly, not daring to point out that the Supreme Führer, Phillipa Bergerman, had outlawed Christianity and Judaism in Australia eleven years ago; along with all other religions that possessed a male god.

Part Three:
Fight For The Right!

Leaving Debbie still handcuffed, Kyle rang in sick for both himself, then Debbie, before returning to the bed for some much-needed sleep. Careful to avoid touching her punished backside, he reached around to pull her up close to him, which she had always refused to let him do in the past.

Despite the pain in her backside, Debbie soon fell asleep and she and Kyle did not awaken again until shortly after 1:00 PM.

Risking leaving Debbie uncuffed in the house, Kyle wandered down to Neptune's Takeaway Store, to get them a large serving of fish and chips, a traditional Aussie delicacy, which was now frowned upon by the female elite, but not yet outlawed.

When Kyle returned, Debbie, still naked, since Kyle had not told her she could dress, was washing the dishes in the apartment's tiny kitchenette.

Taking two large plates off the stack of wet dishes, Kyle dried them, then served out the chips, flake, potato cakes, and Dim Sims, while Debbie continued washing the dishes.

When she had finished, Debbie walked across to sit beside Kyle, until he pulled her across to sit on his lap, as loving wives had done in centuries past. He was careful to sit her on her side so that her sensitive backside would not be hurt any further.

"This is how we eat from now on," said Kyle, getting a single nod from Debbie as they started to eat their fish-and-chip lunch.

After lunch, Kyle and Debbie finished the dishes, then washed their uniforms and underwear, before cleaning the floors and windows.

Then, after a short rest, Kyle said: "I think I'll ring Mikhail to see if he has calmed down yet."

"Is that wise?" asked Debbie: "He was overheard slander ... insulting the Supreme Führer. In front of thousands of witnesses."

"He was just blowing off steam, after being sacked," insisted Kyle.

Going into the bedroom for a moment, he returned with his mobile phone and pressed 1 for Mikhail Moore.

"Sorry, but the number you have dialled has not yet been reassigned," said a robotic-sounding operator.

"Reassigned," he said aloud: "What does that mean?"

"It means Mikhail no longer has the number," said Debbie tentatively, not wanting to anger her husband again.

"Why would he no longer have the number?" demanded Kyle. When Debbie, did not answer, he dialled the operator and asked for Mikhail Moore's home phone number.

"We have no number for anyone of that name in Phillipa Berg," said a vaguely female, robotic-sounding voice.

"He's been employed by the Australian Army, then the Waffen-SS for the last forty-three years?" insisted Kyle, despite Debbie furiously shaking her head in a vain attempt to dissuade him.

There was a loud click, and then a female operator came online to state brusquely: "No such person exists anymore in Australia, Mr. Konrad!"

There was another click as she hung up on him.

"Mikhail doesn't exist anymore!" said Kyle with tears in his eyes: "My best mate has been erased from history..."

"Oh, my Lord!" said Debbie, covering her mouth with one hand: "What about Lori and the kids?"

Startled by the question, Kyle rang the number of Adelaide and Robbie, Mikhail's parents. Only to be told by the robotic voice: "Sorry, but the number you have dialled has not yet been reassigned."

He then rang each of Mikhail's three siblings, only to be told each time: "Sorry, but the number you have dialled has not yet been reassigned."

"His whole family has been erased from history," said Kyle to a wide-eyed Debbie.

There was a loud click again, then the female operator said: "As will you be, Mr. Konrad, if you keep trying to reach nonexistent persons."

Another loud click, and then the phone went dead.

Hanging up, Kyle put on his coat and announced: "I'm going out to see some friends."

"Is that wise?" asked Debbie.

"Probably not," said Kyle before heading out into the corridor.


An hour later Kyle and seven friends, most of them Sturmscharführers, were seated around together in an overcrowded lounge room in a small apartment similar to the one that Kyle and Debbie shared..

"Is this meeting even wise?" asked Tony, whose apartment it was.

"They erased Mikhail and Lori and their kids from history!" pointed out Kyle: "Along with his parents, their brothers and sisters, and his brothers and sisters, plus their families."

"Over seventy people in all," said Desi, Tony's wife, the only female whom the otherwise all-male enclave trusted to be at their meetings: "We have to do something ... We can't just roll over and let them get away with it."

"There's always the Supreme Führer's Birthday Parade next week," suggested Kyle to half a dozen nervous listeners. Slowly, one by one, they nodded: "So the birthday parade it is."


Back at their apartment, Kyle carried Debbie to their bed where they made love gently, rather than Kyle ravishing her, as he had done earlier.

Over the next week both Kyle and Debbie returned to their SS duties; Debbie in administration; Kyle in the Luftwaffe and Waffen-SS.

"So you're all right now?" asked Oberst Gruppen Führer Gwen Myles, the next day when Kyle appeared at Luftwaffe headquarters in Phillipa Berg.

"Yes, it seems to have been just a twenty-four-hour virus," lied Kyle: "Both Debbie and I suffered from it."

"But you're both all right now?" asked Gwen.

"Yes," confirmed Kyle.

"Good, you wouldn't want to miss the Supreme Führer's Birthday Parade next week," said Gwen: "It will be a massive parade of the full SS, plus thousands of Gestapo agents and other federal employees ... It will be..."

She hesitated, so he finished for her: "It will be my last chance to go up in a Luftwaffe jet-copter."

"Yes," said Gwen, a little sadly Then with an epiphany: "Would you like to pilot the chopper on your last flight?"

Delighted that she had helped to solve a major part of his task for him, Kyle beamed broadly and said: "It would be a great honour, Oberst Gruppen Führer."

"Excellent," said Gwen, smiling for the first time since she had heard that Kyle and the rest of the Waffen-SS were being dispensed with.


That night, Kyle and his co-conspirators met again and he informed them of his lucky break.

"Me too!" said Tony, receiving a beaming smile from Desi.

"And me," said another man, followed by most of the other conspirators."

"Excellent, that should be enough for our plan to work," said Kyle.

20th of April:
Adolf Hitler's and Phillipa Bergerman's Birthday:

Again the procedure was held outside the ReichsLodge in Phillipa Berg (formerly Canberra), where nearly two hundred thousand gold-clad SS agents, black-clad Gestapo agents, and green-clad Waffen-SS agents on their final parade, lined up in military formation. Kyle, Gwen, Tony, and the other Luftwaffe pilots were boarding the jet-copters readying to take them up to hover low enough to be seen and to scare off any potential insurgents, without blowing away the paraders or their hats or equipment.

"Taking it up," said Kyle as he started the jet-copter- - the sexist term 'taking her up' was now frowned upon within the Luftwaffe, SS, and the Gestapo.

"Excellent," said Gwen, beaming at her long-time co-pilot.


Only after the eight jet-copters were in the air, did Supreme Führer, Phillipa Bergerman and her inner core of gold-clad SS agents come out of the ReichsLodge and onto the artificial lawns in front of the paraders.

"Seig Heil to the Chief!" shrieked all of the ground-based SS leaders; resulting in all two hundred thousand SS, Waffen-SS, and Gestapo agents raising their right hands in a traditional Roman-Nazi salute, while shouting:

"Seig Heil to the Chief!

"Seig Heil to the Chief!

"Seig Heil to the Chief!"

Before loudly snapping their heels together and presenting arms -- those trusted to bear arms.

"Seig Heil to the Chief!" said Kyle cheerfully, although only Gwen could hear him.

A little surprised, Gwen responded: "Seig Heil to the Chief!"

At that instant, Kyle pulled the ejector lever to send a startled Gwen flying sideways out of the jet-copter to hopefully avoid the rotors of Kyle's or any of the other Luftwaffe choppers. Kyle took his eyes off the target for a few seconds to see that Gwen was all right; he really had grown to like her over the last eleven years.

Noticing that all except two of the jet copters also ejected their SS commanders, Kyle led the choppers on a dive down toward the golden-clad SS, and black-clad Gestapo agents, getting within ten metres of them before beginning to strafe the thousands of agents, doing his best to avoid the green-clad Waffen SS troops, soon to be the only agents left standing.

As the firing started, the troops dropped their weapons and tried to scatter. However, with six of the eight jet copters firing all machineguns at them, few if any of the SS or Gestapo agents escaped alive, while most of the green-clad Waffen-SS managed to scatter across the artificial grass, then away from the killing grounds.

"Protect me!" shouted the Supreme Führer, Phillipa Bergerman, as her female squads were mown down in minutes.

"Seig Heil to the Chief!

"Seig Heil to the Chief!..." began her elite squad, doing proper Nazi salutes.

"No time for that rubbish!" shrieked Bergerman: "Just get between me and the insurgents!"

"Seig Heil!" shouted the elite female squad for the last time, doing the Nazi salutes for the last time....

Before being mown down by the jet-copters as the Supreme Führer, Phillipa Bergerman raced back into the ReichsLodge, hoping she would be safe. And where she was safe ...

Until Kyle and the others started firing their non-nuclear Death-Bringer or Hope-Taker rockets. Each chopper was equipped with sixteen rockets, all of which Kyle and the other five pilots launched upon the ReichsLodge.

"Die! Bitch-Cunt Führer! Die!" shouted Kyle as he unleashed his Death-Bringer and Hope-Taker rockets onto the almost sparkling white facade of the ReichsLodge.

"Pull up, Kyle! Pull up!" shouted Toni over the headset, thinking that Kyle was going to suicide-bomb the remnants of the ReichsLodge.

Then, at the last possible moment, Kyle ejected himself sideways out of the jet copter, to be missed by his own chopper's rotors by only millimetres as he spun away. At the same time, the helicopter zoomed down to explode in the wreckage of the ReichsLodge.

"Seig Heil to the Chief!" shouted Kyle sardonically as he parachuted safely to earth. Looking back he could see other pilots parachuting down after sending their choppers at the ReichsLodge rubble. All except for the final two choppers which had not joined the affray. They started forward as though to gun down the insurgents, then seeing green-clad Waffen-SS on the ground picking up weapons from the dead SS or Gestapo agents, the pilots changed their minds and headed across Australia at great speed, in the desperate hope of finding sanctuary across the Tasman in New Zealand.

"Seig Heil to the Chief!" shouted Kyle, waving after the retreating choppers.

"Seig Heil to the Chief!" shouted Tony and the other pilots as they parachuted to safety.

THE END
© Copyright 2024 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia