Singled Out and Forgotten by God 5/03/05 By BarnabasFrid

What if this hole contains a charade?

And behind it all, there's a price to be paid

For blood which we dine

Just fight in the name of The Holy and The Divine

Adolf Hitler and Eva, his bride of 36 hours, walked quietly down the dimly lit hallway in the dank Führer-Bunker. They had only just said their goodbyes to the remaining inhabitants below the Chancellery in war torn Berlin, Germany. Frau Goebbels cried when Hitler presented her with his own NSDAP pin, calling her "The Bravest Mother of The Reich." His quiet and sweet secretary Traudl, with whom he'd always been paternal, was given a gentle touch of the cheek and a few inaudible words.

As the two approached Hitler's quarters, he stopped and turned to Eva. Kissing the woman gently and devotedly, full on the lips, no one had ever witnessed such a display of affection between the two. And no one dared comment on it now.

Hitler turned the knob and pushed open the door to his quarters. A faint smile broke his stern countenance as he motioned for Eva to enter first. His shaky left hand lifted to graze his wife's hair as she passed by.

She busied herself at his dresser, straightening varied papers and items. Her own affairs had been settled, yet ever worried about Hitler, his long-time companion wanted to be all the more sure his things were in order. The atmosphere in the room was fatal, the scent of collapse pervaded in thick clouds. Eva's hands trembled, though she did not fear the decision she had made, to die at the side of her Führer, the actual carrying out troubled her… her own suicide-- a simple bite of the ampule. But his? Would the trigger be pulled at the right time? Hitler gradually made his way to the sofa and sat, sinking deep into its lush cushions.

"Come Eva, sit on my lap."

She smiled and sat sideways on the Führer's knee. Reaching her arms around his neck, "I'm not frightened Mein Führer. I told you I'd follow you anywhere, even unto death." Nestling her blonde hair into Hitler's shoulder, Eva's fingertips found the shaved skin at the back of his neck and caressed it tenderly.

"No, My Dear Little One, face me."

A tear slipped from his lash as Eva began to moan, she opened her eyes to notice this. Hitler's gaze never left his wife. She bore down on his rigid penis with shameless ache and watched as his facial features twisted with affected bliss. He murmured the three words her Wolf rarely used, yet often proved through action.

"I love you."

Eva dipped her head and kissed her husband's mouth, speaking into the skin, "Mein Führer." Her passions were entirely aroused now and she felt Hitler shudder and buck against her body.

Reaching to take her breasts in his hands, "I couldn't give it; I couldn't give you the nation I promised." The familiar anger welled, and she could feel it in his thrusts, one for each statement. "Germany is in ruin. And you have a broken man to take with you to death!"

"From our first meeting I swore to follow you anywhere. Even onto death. I live only for your love." She had written to him after an assassination attempt last year. In his crazed fashion, he gave her everything. Everything he was capable of. It wasn't the clothes or shoes. The houses or cars. It was the calm smile that graced his face when they saw each other after months of estrangement. The way she'd lay his head on her breast and sit in silence for hours while stroking the closely cropped hair at his temple.

"I strove to cleanse and sanitize a nation to be built anew from the ground up. A world fit for you to exist in. No obstacle could stand in the way of perfection. Perfection I forced onward. For you." Hitler pushed Eva to her side; a temporary halt in the rhythmic grind caused a groan from her lips. At once he pulled her close, allowing her legs to wrap around his. "And now you are left to breathe filtered air two stories below a city I once controlled with ease."

"You give me", Eva's voice was climbing in pitch. "…the eternal gift of Heaven by your side, Adi." His face crushed against her breast, straining to take the taught skin of the nipple between his teeth. "Adi ..." Hitler reduced her to whimpers and repeated bursts of his name.

How could she know he was thinking not only of her, but of his Princess?

You're keeping in step, and alive

Got your chin held high

And you feel just fine

Because you do what you're told

But inside your heart—it is black as a hole and it's cold

Hitler sat with his shabby overcoat spread across his lap. August Kubizek glanced over at his dear friend's face as the music swelled. Consumed with an overwhelming urge, a realized mutual need to share emotions, he reached beneath the material, laying a hand on Hitler's waist. Hitler did not shy away, but laid a trembling finger on August's wrist.

The digits fumbled with the buckle, pulling back the plastic belt. The zipper was soon opened and August felt at once the hardness twisting against his palm. Hitler kept his strict gaze on the opera, but gripped the arm of his seat with great energy.

The firm shaft leapt to his hand without difficulty, and August's finger swirled lightly over the swollen head of Hitler's penis. All the while, the man never moved his eyes from the opera. As his friend's hand rose, and slid down the music gained a frenetic pace and during the orgasmic final notes, as Hitler felt himself give way to release, he roared "By the Living God, yes! And yes again!"

No one took notice. Even those who sat in close proximity. Frequenting the theater monthly, young Adolf was known to verbalize his approval of "The Master", Richard Wagner.

They walked home in silence enjoying the crisp air swirling about the bustling streets of Schwabing. Climbing the scores of steps to their shared room, Hitler remained a few behind, watching August move in advance. They came to the door.

"Gustl…" Hitler placed a white and delicate hand on his comrade's shoulder, fingers engrossing the fabric. As he turned around to face his companion, August smiled, noting the worship within the other's eyes.

"I know Adi. This will never be spoken of." And they disappeared into the room.


And there I stood, just like a soldier
I was tough, until I saw her
I said Hello, but she just turned away

"Adi, come out with me. You haven't left the room in days and even I cannot stand your stench!" August did his best to make his comrade laugh, though he was quite serious about young Hitler's personal hygiene. "Come now. I will buy you a pastry and we can walk to the opera house. Perhaps they might let us listen in the lobby again."

Hitler rolled over and his rickety iron bed frame screeched so loudly the tenants in the next room banged on the wall in protest. "Stop it you nancy faggots!" They shouted and Hitler pounded the wall in retort yelling in a half hearted tone, "I saw you at Bayreuth, who do you think you are speaking to?"

"You waste your breath…" And before August could finish his statement Hitler went on another of his tirades…

"Loosing the lottery was enough, Gustl! And that disappointment crushed all of my hopes! How can I take a pleasure walk through the disgusting streets of Vienna and consume pastry with you when MY wife is applying the asphyxiating perfume of modern eroticism for another man? I had plans, or can you not remember? Really Gustl… such a Best Man you would have made! I'm surprised you did not attend the ceremony this morning as part of HER wedding party!

"I'm going out." And August's head lowered as he shut the door gently. He stopped and knocked on the neighbor's wall in the hall. "Watch how you speak to my comrade, you idiots! He is going to paint a new Germany for all of you!" And Adolf Hitler's friend descended the stairs and walked into Vienna, the city which, to so many, is the epitome of innocent pleasure, a festive playground for merrymakers.


He grunted as he left the bed and looked out the filthy window to see August turn the corner. Hitler heard the comment a moment ago and it moved him. If only Gustl would return his affections perhaps the crushing blow of Stephanie's marriage would not be so debilitating.

Hitler left their apartment that morning to meet August at the Academy. It was difficult enough to go everyday after failing the art entrance exam, twice, but what he saw on his way made the nineteen year old Austrian collapse to his knees. In a nearby church a wedding party was just emerging from doors. And on the arm of a typical Viennese dandy was HIS Stephanie!

"His Stephanie" was simply a fragment of Hitler's imagination. The woman was a stranger. He had not even the courage to approach her and tip his hat. Still, daily Hitler would meet August after his music classes and ramble on about the girl he passed each time on the street.

"Why not ask her to the opera, Adi? They are doing Rienzi next week and I have a recital that night. She can have my ticket." August offered Hitler one afternoon. "You need to entertain yourself with a woman. If only so I can have an hour or two to myself one night!" He smiled but Hitler was not amused.

And so the months went by, the devoted Adolf Hitler watched Stephanie in the streets each day never once summoning the nerve to come within reach of her. Until today when he had made his daily walk to the Academy of Fine Arts and was treated to the repulsive horror of watching her walk arm and arm with another man. Her husband!

Hitler retired to a chair, took up piece of charcoal and began to scratch on a piece of paper:

"The more you ignore me, the closer I get. You're wasting your time." He crumpled up the document and threw it in the corner. A fist landed on the table. "When you sleep I will creep into your thoughts like a bad debt that you can't pay. Take the easy way and give in. And let me in." Tears threatened to flow and he returned to his bed crawling under the threadbare blanket. "Let me in."

The young man's hand slipped past the waistband of his grubby pants. His fingers encircled his already hardened penis. "I am now a central part of your mind's landscape whether you care or do not. I've made up your mind. The more you ignore me, the closer I get." And he began to wonder what it might be like to take Stephanie to the opera. How beautiful she would be in an evening gown. Hitler had only ever seen her in the daytime. He would meet her in the lobby. She would tap him on the shoulder, "Herr Hitler, it was easier to find you then I had thought. You are easily recognizable in a crowd of monotonous people!"

And Hitler would take her tiny hand in his own, lifting to kiss her fingers. Stephanie would giggle like a schoolgirl, perhaps she was one, and turn shades of red before excusing herself to the ladies room. Strangers would wink in Hitler's direction showing their envy and approval to the man who single handedly had in his midst the most stunning creature in the city!

When the bridal chorus played as Hitler and Stephanie watched Wagner's Lohengrin, she would place her hand in his lap and squeeze his knee as if she did not need words to express the same ritual for their future.

Hitler was squirming in his bed now. His legs stretched their full length and his feet were against the wall. A spasm broke out in his left foot but he savored the pain and used it to urge on his erection. "Oh, let me in! Ah, the closer I get." He felt an unfamiliar sensation erupt within his belly. One far and above the bliss he'd experience when August allowed him to sleep next to him. August was a kind and obliging friend. He permitted Hitler to embrace him during these sessions, though it seemed to end when ever the request was made to take each other's clothes off so they could be as close as possible.

"It's war," He said. "…its war," and repeated it again and again. "It's war. It's war. It's war. War. War. War. War." With each utterance the orgasm came closer. When it exploded, Hitler was jolted back to reality with a handful of semen and no one but the company of laughter from the occupants in the next room.

"Good show comrade! That's the way to stick it to her! And think, maybe next time you'll have a real woman in the room with you!"

He gave no thought to the abuse. Hitler immediately began to weep from immense sorrow. His nose stuffed at once though he didn't care enough to wipe the mucous from his lip as it truckled down. "Ah, the closer I get! Ah, you're asking for it…" He cried. It was clear now. Why would she marry him? Why would she even look at him? He was a pathetic orphan, a failed painter, a man without a home or country. Where would she live? In this hovel, sleeping on the floor when he decided not to take up space in August's bed? And would she tolerate such behavior even? What woman could ever accept his need to be close to other men?

Adolf Hitler was devastated. His sobbing went on as if he had never even brought himself to orgasm. The thought of his fantasy never coming to fruition was too much to bear. He had his flight of the imagination and now it was over. Marriage certificate—singed, sealed and delivered. Gathering his coat, the shattered man walked out the door, down the hall and out to the streets in hopes to meet up with Gustl. He walked for an hour and had soon given up hope. Somewhere in Vienna, others were entertained by his pal and he roamed the town in tears.

"What have you done now? You have lighted everything inside me; my body is a single glowing star. Only you have lit the flame, it still burns now, oh how it burns. Come—take what is yours, take everything, everything there, and the flame will glow, glow, glow for you…" She whispered. Tall, lanky and made up just as any whore would be this late in the evening. Hitler looked at the features and instantaneously pinned her lineage. Her hair sat in dark ringlets, a flash of jewelry and a gauche fake fur over her shoulders.

He smiled and offered his hand to the girl. "You are a Jew, flietscherl? She nodded and cocked her head to one side as she reached into his pocket and felt only lint and grunge. "Come back to my room, I have money and cigarettes there." And they walked back to Hitler's meager lodgings.

As he opened the door to his room, the two next-door were just leaving and offered their congratulations. The girl proceeded inside and Hitler looked at his neighbors and said calmly, "I feel the whole sex business is an unclean act, best consummated with a member of an unclean race."

They walked away in silence and never again offered a word to Adolf Hitler.

Here it comes

Here it comes

It is there

It is there

Beating like a drum

My heart is a ghetto

My mind is a slum

And I search like a sleuth for my pleasure

His speech lasted an hour longer then he had planned. More then a few well-wishers wanted to take him to dinner and by the time the bill was paid at the Café Heck, Hitler's eyes were heavy with exhaustion. "Putzi" Hanfstaengl collected the weary man and drove him home. His chauffeur, Emil Maurice had already been dismissed after the speech.

"Go, Emil. And check on Geli. She was annoyed with me because I would not let her out tonight. Bring her some chocolate. Or flowers and a film magazine." Hitler knew his driver had a crush on his niece. He also knew that Geli fancied his comrade as well. But it was closely watched, and their interaction was calculated and kept to a minimum.

He turned the key to his Munich apartment—Number 16 Prinzregentenplatz. It was well after three in the morning and silence washed over the household. Hitler sighed as he dropped the key into a glass bowl by the door, noticing Geli's key previously there. It was a comfort to him to know the girl was home… waiting for him.

Climbing the stairs, Hitler heard some whispering, and then a string of footsteps in the room next to his; Geli's. A low tone and a female giggle, and at once the door flung open. Emil was still dressed, but his niece was in her nightgown. It was sheer, pink and made of the most expensive silks that Hitler could buy. And just so, as he had only taken the girl shopping that morning.

"Mein Führer!" Emil shouted, his face plastered with fear. He scrambled to his feet and offered Hitler the Nazi salute. "Heil Hitler!"

"He told you to bring me the magazines, we've done nothing wrong." Geli said gently as she turned and smiled pleasantly in her uncle's direction. "Uncle Alf is only envious that he was not to see me in this nightdress first." She sat then, on the edge of her bed and hiked the skirt past her knee.

Hitler's eyes fluttered as he watched his niece. Very little was left for him to imagine. "Won't you be pleased to see me in this when you get home tonight?" She purred in the shop that morning.

"Out." He barked at Emil.

"Mein Führer, tomorrow you have a meeting at the Brown House. Nine o'clock, I believe…" Emil stuttered on his way to the door.

"Out!" Hitler bellowed. And he lifted a small wooden chair near Geli's desk and hurled it against the adjacent wall. As it broke to bits, Geli folded her arms across her chest. She watched the terrified young man flee the room, and her side.

"Really Uncle Alf and that was my favorite chair!" She chided, walking to him. The girl's hips swayed against the material of her gown and Hitler watched hypnotized. "And you stink! Can't you bathe before coming in here after one of your evenings out?"

The sound of flesh slapping flesh whistled through the air as Hitler struck his niece brutally across the mouth. He grabbed her arms and held them at her sides, forcing her back against the wall.

"You never tire, do you? Making a mockery of me before my subjects? Did you not hear a word I said?" The last sentence, each word elongated and over pronounced. "Your visits with Emil are to be kept short, and certainly not at three in the morning… in your nightgown!"

It was useless to answer him.

"I stink? I was out this evening talking my throat raw to pay for the things you ask me for! Two and a half hours of scripted oratory, and then another four in that restaurant. Look how you live! How you are dressed!" Spittle formed at Hitler's lips, his hands left her arms and fisted, waving about his head. "This room reeks of sex Geli! And you have the nerve to tell me that I stink?"

He walked to the door and pushed it shut, but did not bother to lock it. Geli took a sudden breath and held her hand over her mouth. It was not a frightened action, more an excited anticipation of what was to come. Hitler sat on the cushioned chair close to the door and patted his lap. Anger manifested in his brow where veins were straining and bulging beneath the skin. His niece did not need to be instructed. She lay over his lap in a fluid motion, hardly bearing weight on her uncle's knees. Her breath came quicker now, and Hitler felt the flexing of her stomach muscles touching his thigh. She had pulled the nightgown past her hips so the bare flesh rested on him.

The burn of his palm against her buttocks forced a groan from Geli's lips. A second, a third. And the girl began to writhe over her uncle's legs. Her hands spread to his calves, grabbing the leather straps that held his socks up. "Will you not tie me up with these Uncle Alf? Fasten me to bed post, scar me with your dog whip."

The blows came softer now. And after the fifth strike, he allowed his hand to sit on the reddened flesh before him.

"Scar me, Uncle Alf. So anyone that might see my body will know I belong to you. I only gave it to him… because you would not give me yours." She pushed her hips into Hitler's thigh, widening her legs and swiveling her behind in a circling motion. Her groans grew in pitch, and it was plain that his niece was aroused.

Hitler's head charged backward and he smashed it against the wall behind him, closing his eyes as he whispered her name. The trembling fingers passed over his niece's legs as they kicked wildly in a deliberately lewd rhythm. He seized her arms and tried anxiously to slow her movement. But the girl frenzied and Hitler finally used his own strength to force the girl on the cold weaving of wood on the floor.

"Are you playing the harlot with me, Princess? The wonton child who never gets her way?" Hitler knelt over his thrashing niece and pinioned her hips to the flooring with his knees. "Did I intrude on you and Emil? Shall I call him back here?" And his right hand moved immediately to spread Geli's legs apart, slipping a finger deep inside her damp sex.

"I want you, Uncle Alf…" She panted, feeling the rough assault between her legs. Her hands reached up to forcefully heave him down over her body. Hitler kissed her eagerly on the lips. She reciprocated as if she had been waiting all of her young beautiful life.

He grunted with pleasure as Geli's lips devoured his own. Her fingers inched and pushed past the waistband of his suit. Her mouth broke away from the kiss, "I could smell you the moment you walked into my room. You stink of sweat and beer. How many of the woman fainted tonight after you spoke? I can feel the hatred filling your cock, the hardness in your soul. Put it inside of me. Empty your revulsion between my legs. Uncle… Let me house it for you. " She placed her left hand on Hitler's back and dug her nails deep into his skin. Blood seeped from the scuff and he cried out in blissful pain. "Take me, my King," she whispered in an ardent tone, "My King of Munich…"

He called her Princess again and again, tearing at her clothing. Ripping the silk from her body, his hands explored the folds of her sex as she entwined her fingers around her uncle's. She channeled Hitler's touch against her inner thigh.

He wheezed, gasping for breath. "Not like this. You are too decadent tonight. Geli, I worship you. Can you not see this?" She took his earlobe between her teeth and bit down with vigor. Hitler savored the pain and closed his eyes, letting a breath echo along the side of his niece's head. Her nails dug deeper and he could feel the seep of blood trickle down his back. The white material of his shirt became torn and stained.

"I want you, Uncle Alf. The game we've played… The hinting. You torture me. Do you think I cannot see how you look at me?" She pulled his belt open and franticly unfastened each button till she was able gain access to his penis, through the thick long underwear. "I am only pretending to sleep when you open my door at night."

Geli covered her uncle's erection with her fingers. She did not want it wasted. The servants told her often of his inability to stay hard, if even at all. His cries of ecstasy came quicker now, and he allowed her to place his penis inside of her.

"I had no intension of possessing you like this," he grunted. Hitler clenched the muscles of his buttocks and thrust his hips so he could push himself deeper within his niece. "My beautiful Princess, how sanctified you are …" He wanted to go on, but he felt his actions were forced. His fingers traveled over her body as if it were some ancient sought after Aryan relic.

But her agenda was singular. She wanted her uncle to fuck her. She wanted him to take charge. She wanted to stimulate him with pain. He continued with his adoring words and it almost seemed to mock her. Her hands took his face and she gazed into his piercing blue eyes. "Harder!"

Hitler secured himself above the girl placing his hands on either side of her shoulders, flat against the floor. He plunged himself deeper. "Harder?" He asked in a distorted voice.

"Harder!" She screeched, her hips rising to meet his. The sweat glistened on his face and as she reached up to rip open his shirt she could feel the material soaked through. He still wore his simple pinstriped blue suit, but through the vest and the underwear she formed her hands into claws, tearing and scraping at his chest. The blood mixed with moisture along his skin and streamed down his belly.

"Harder!" He shouted, grinding into his niece with a frightening animalistic force. The deeper her nails cut, the more skin she slashed caused his erection to stiffen. "Harder!" It became a mantra, rumbling through the room.

"Yes! Harder! Harder Uncle Alf!" His blood and sweat covered her fingers. And she spread it over his hairless chest. Straining her neck, Geli kissed his collarbone. She bit at the skin and trailed her tongue downward till it reached his nipple. She circled it with her tongue's tip, then bit and sucked it into her mouth.

"Harder!" Hitler roared. And she did. Biting down with strength, she could feel his blood and sweat dripping over her face. Hitler's hips were in a fury, moving and shoving in and out of his niece with such fascination. Such excitement. Such enthusiasm. His verbalized animation thrilled Geli, now almost completely covered in her uncle's fluid.

"Make me," She whispered. She could hardly go on. Her body ached for orgasm. As it did earlier when she closed her eyes as Emil kissed her. "Make me come. Make me come, Uncle Alf…" He almost didn't hear, snarling and screaming his own pleasure. It made him feel dirty to desecrate her like this. Though his very core wanted her, she was his own flesh and blood. Still, how could he be offended by such a union? His own parents were uncle and niece. His beloved mother, called his father "Uncle" till the he died. And to follow in his mothers footsteps was the best way to honor Klara Hitler's memory.

"Can you feel me?" he whispered, ever in control of this girl. And Hitler placed his cupped hand over Geli's mouth. She moaned through her uncle's fingers. "No… show me. Do not tell me. Show me, Geli…" She wrapped her arms around his back and crushed her breasts against his blood dirtied chest. Still perched above his niece's body, Hitler felt her hips pound against his.

"Who is fucking you?" He asked, again in a quiet whisper.

Geli was condensed to a frenzy of grinding and blaring groans. She tried to form words, "My uncle… Uncle Alf. " and reached to push his hand away. A task easily accomplished. "Fucking me… Uncle Alf!"

"Beautiful girl… sweet Geli," And Hitler felt his own orgasm burst as his niece jerked beneath him. Immediately he slipped his penis from the girl. Under no circumstances would he allow her to carry his child. He hurled himself on his back and brought Geli above him.

"Now." And he reached for the girl's shoulders, urging her to her feet.

"Uncle please, I hate this game." Geli whispered and she stood over him. Hitler's hand slithered up her thighs and she knew her pleads would fail. Just as they always had in the past. His sexual taste was far from normal, it was hardly mentioned in any of the books Geli studied in medical school. Her face burned red as she complied with his requests. His reaction was always the same. He growled that he was unworthy of her love, that he was vermin, that he was filth that needed to be cleansed. It was she that washed him clean though he'd never be valuable…

Soon after, Geli slipped into her bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. She was getting accustomed to this now and each time it made sleeping afterward a bit easier to hear her contented uncle's gentle breath pattern as he slept on the floor beside her bed, shivering in a puddle of his niece's urine.

Just how deep do you believe

Will you bite the hand that feeds

Will you chew until it bleeds

Can you get up off your knees

Are you brave enough to see

Do you want to change it

The girl squirmed in his arms. The butt of her hand pushed against his chest. "Not here, Uncle Alf! If anyone saw us!" Her hand was immediately taken, and Geli was led through the threshold to the main bedroom.

Hitler's niece leaned against the high backed chair near her uncle's bed. "Such a look in your eye Uncle Alf, I wish I knew what stirred within your head." Geli smiled, already aroused. Her fondness had long grown beyond avuncular feelings, and she began to undo the buttons holding back her breasts. He walked to her, after allowing the door to shut behind him, tangling his fingers within her dark hair. Gently tugging a few locks close to his face as he leaned in, Hitler drew a deep breath, inhaling her fragrance. "The things he makes me do …" She whispered.

The heat of his breath on her neck ... the raised, irritated redness his mustache caused … the warm sensation of his lips kissing the flesh had Geli moaning with delight. Franticly, she tore the shirt from her body, pulled her brassier away, exposing herself. Hitler's left hand sprung to house a breast inside. Her uncle's mouth traveled upward, nipping at her chin. She said in a giggling tone, "Affectionate. Charming. I love you like this."

Her words scathed him. Hitler knew she loathed the games he devised. The actions he forced her into. The shit. The piss. The beatings he'd ask her to administer. Let her once; see him as no one ever had. Daily, in typical situations, Geli reduced her uncle to a tranquility he had never felt before. Between the two, the relationship was sacred. Incestuous. Dazzling. Elegant. Leaping over barriers and destroying the fence separating truths and falsehoods.

His hand dropped from her breast, bending to gather her skirt lifting it upward. Wiggling past the satin covering , she gasped as her uncle slipped a finger inside her waiting sex. "Yes! Uncle Alf! Yes! I love you like this!" Geli melted into Hitler's unyielding form. He was silent, reserved for special circumstance, this hush proved to demonstrate his fervor, his need to please her. The rising pace of his breathing only excited her more. "Take my body, you have my soul. My Wolf … I want you inside of me."

Hitler motioned to the bed, and Geli followed. Sitting on the smooth coverlet, she lay back as her uncle moved beside her. Reaching to direct his penis, she watched with amazement as he exacted his legendary stare. Trapped in his wonder, she found herself pleading a second time, "Come inside of me." And Hitler obeyed, as was his reaction to all Geli's commands of this nature.

The girl squealed with ecstasy, the power behind her uncle's thrusts was shocking. Enticing. Immoral. It had been almost a year now, these events between uncle and niece. She was captivated by him. Sometimes she thought herself in love with Adolf Hitler. But the sado-masochism, beating him with whips … Geli wanted affection from her uncle, not orders for abuse.

Tonight was different, and as he pushed his stiff sex into his readied niece, she could hear his pains to remain silent had failed. Hitler grunted as Geli's hips rose to meet his. Hands were slapping against each other in labors to make contact with flesh. Each endeavor to speak was blocked with a kiss.

Geli's sighs grew to a fevered pitch. Hitler anchored himself above her with pale and thin arms, where her hands had gripped and left welts. He never shut his eyes, simply exerting a steel watch over his young lover.

At length, her uncle jolted. Flinging his head back, Hitler pulled himself from his niece and released a guttural moan. "Dear Geli. My treasure. My princess." his voice gruff from the evening's political oratory. "Did you feel my eyes on you? Did you hear my ragged voice? As if I had been grunting over your naked body for hours?" And as he said this, the seed spilt from within, onto the girl's stomach. She slid beneath him, smooth bellies moved effortlessly together. Geli took Hitler's face in her hands and kissed her uncle continually, still stirred by their love-making. He rolled over, and now, on his back, Hitler's niece straddled her uncle's legs.

"Did you save yourself for your uncle? Is that what you wanted, Angelika?" Hitler asked her in a calm lover's voice. His fingers threaded through her tangled hair as she went on placing gentle kisses along his jaw. "Is that what you wanted? To lie at my side. To feel my body inside yours. Do you feel pleasure when I lower my defenses? When I lose myself in your protection?"

"When you allow me to love you, Uncle Alf," she whispered.

Geli's legs remained open, and he was soon aware that the girl was still aroused. Her sex chafed against the hairless skin of Hitler's thigh. Grinding into her uncle's leg, his niece lost all self-consciousness as she cried, "Let me! Uncle Alf! Let me!"

"Say it." Hitler offered, looking up at this beautiful child he had known since birth. "Say it for me Geli. What I have wanted from your lips for a lifetime." He was spent for the moment, but the image… the sight of her carried on his thigh was irresistible.

Her sex slid easily now, the girl was awakened to so many unusual sensations in the presence of her celebrated uncle. She was alive with want, and young enough to feel such gratification over and again. "I love you." Her voice trembled and Hitler could tell she was about to reach her pinnacle.

"Say it." He repeated in his reassured tone, reaching to rest his feminine hands on Geli's hips. Aiming her movements to cover a broader mass of his skin. Later, after she'd gone, Hitler would pass a finger over the flesh to once again take in his niece's scent.

"Mein Führer!" She called unrestrained. Her orgasm echoed throughout the room, "Mein Führer! I love you! I love you like this!" And the girl collapsed over the saturated form of her contented uncle.

Moments later, Hitler rose from his bed and turned down deep crimson covers that wrapped the two in false security.

"Will you bite the hand that feeds you?" Hitler asked as he fell before Geli. Obedient and submissive.

"Will you stay down on your knees?" And his niece gripped her uncle's dog whip in her hand, cracking it severely against his side.

As if she'd done this a thousand times.

I see your face every time I dream

So wild and free

So far from me

The loud hum of Adolf Hitler's supercharged Mercedes Benz whirred as it sped down the remaining roads approaching the borders of Germany and Austria. It was cold. Dead at the end of January, Hitler was now the newly elected Chancellor and there was only one person he wanted to boast to.

"They will never expect you to be so close now my Führer. I anticipate a safe passing over the border, though we shall have to make haste if you want to make it to Vienna by dark." Julius Schreck informed Hitler.

He answered with a grunt and waved his hand at the windshield. It was his way on urging the driver on. The car was filled with only these two bodies, and the aroma roses and other flowers filled the vehicle as well as the back seat. Hitler had his chauffer take the flags off the bumpers. No one would know this was Adolf Hitler on his way to that remote cemetery in Vienna. As he fell asleep, the Fuhrer's head slumped to the side.

It was several hours later when they reached their destination, Arkadengruft 9 facing the Lüger Church. It was dark and colder then any night he had spent on a park bench as a suffering artist. Hitler touched Schreck's shoulder tenderly and smiled. The familiarity between the two was plain and Julius knew to stay within the confines of the car while Hitler set out to the grave.

He walked passed various headstones bearing his name-- Cousins and siblings. The flowers, and there were more then enough, began to burden his arms and Hitler breathed a sigh of relief as he approached the sought tombstone.







Hitler placed the roses in the center of the tomb. He laid the others along the marble slab that made up the plot. At first he smiled, thinking this reminded him of the annual memorial for the fallen Party members during the Putsch. But when he closed his eyes, he saw Geli's face as if she had only just left the kitchen during one of their late night talks.

"I did it Princess. Your Uncle Alf is Chancellor of Germany. They elected me. Hindenburg appointed me himself." As Hitler fell to his knees, the snow crunched and packed beneath his weight. He leaned forward and placed a hand on the marble. "Do you remember the winters at The Berghof? Dear God Geli, you pelted me with snowballs every chance you found! And your mother always had a change of clothes for me, as if you hand informed her of your assault ahead of time. But I loved every minute of it. Sipping hot chocolate from a cup held in your hand. You head settled neatly in my lap as we sat before the fire…"

The tears dripped from Hitler's lashes and stung the frail skin of face as he began to weep profusely. The Führer of all Germany… The man who had concentration camps ready to be erected within months… Who hated more then any man yet in History; cried like a slapped child at his niece's grave. How could he go on without her at his side? How could he make coherent decisions without her to calm his frail nerves? Eva knew nothing of politics or Wagner. And she couldn't cook or sing.

"Geli why? Why did I leave my pistol where you could find it? Why didn't I let you go to Vienna? For my sake, I'd rather you disobey me then be … Geli; I am in such awe of you! My best SA does not bare your courage. When faced with capture they would rather be taken prisoner then share your fate! But you wonderful creature, it was all or nothing with you…"

The palm began to freeze and Hitler drew his hand from ice cold marble. As he did, he lost his balance and his head hit the frozen ground with a thud. There was just enough snow to cushion the fall so he did not pass out. Still, Hitler had no idea what had happened. He lay on the ground in a heap, weeping uncontrollably. "Geli, little Geli, in the happy days…"

Speaking into the snow and mud, "That night we saw Der Meistersinger… How perfectly you filled that dress. Every woman in that opera house seethed with jealousy. Oh how they wished they could be you… sitting in your seat with your Uncle on your arm." He laughed then. "Don't think I was oblivious Princess. I knew they wanted me. All those letters we got in the mail? And not one for Herman Goring , that bitch in a male's body!"

Hitler regained some of his composure and sat, his woolen pants now soaked to the skin. He leaned against the headstone, his back to the inscription. "You knocked on my door that night after we came home. I was half undressed when you entered and you never gave it a thought. All smiles and kisses for taking to you see Wagner." His tone deepened now, "Your kisses were the sweetest I've ever tasted. And your wandering hands, sweet Geli, could never offend my body. No man could ever love a woman as I have loved you."

Without recognizing, Hitler's hand slipped to his inner thigh. He gave no thought to the bulge there. But his hand continued to move till the buttons were open and his frigid fingers worked past the covering of long underwear…

For the sea will swallow up the mountains
And the sky will throw thunder-bolts and sparks
Straight at you
But I'll come running
Straight to you
But I'll come running

One more time

Leni stared at her Führer with worshiping eyes. She slipped a hand entwined with celluloid around his neck and drew him close. Hitler did not like her display of comfort… or power. He stiffened as the director stood on her toes and whispered into his ear, "When I have completed this film the world will view you as the God I see standing before me."

His palms rested on the woman's shoulders. With a swift force, he pushed her to her knees. "Show me." He ordered.

She could command a film crew. She could direct actors and she could hold a state spellbound with her eyes, but Leni Riefenstahl was about to show total submission to Germany's newly appointed Chancellor.

As she shifted her weight from one knee to another, the woman's right hand reached to open the buckle on Hitler's belt. The sound of her heart pounded within her skull, her fingers quivered as they began the central task of unfastening the buttons keeping his pants closed.

Above all, Leni was an actress and she knew the fulfillment of this single desire was not enough to arouse her Führer. This man needed to be coddled. He needed to be admired and revered.

"Do you remember? That first rally?" She uttered as she worked the clothing to his ankles. Hitler pressed his hand against the back of Leni's head, urging her closer to his uncovered form. "For me it was as though the globe split in half and suddenly the center opened up and a huge fountain of water came spurting out. I felt as though I were paralyzed."

Hitler reached forward and flipped the switch to the projector. Having been outside the door a few minutes before entering Riefenstahl's editing room, he knew the film playing was the final speech of the 1934 Nuremberg Rally. The room was immediately overflowing with the startling explosion of his voice. Leni's hands instantly grabbed his thighs as she crushed her mouth to the skin just above his sex. She was surprised to feel no hair. The pale flesh was smooth and free of any indication that he might have shaved it away.

"For them it is not simple enough to make the pledge 'I believe!' Rather, the affirmation: "I fight!"

The sound of his recorded voice urged her on as her hand traveled from Hitler's thigh to his belly. Leni played across the skin, turning circles with her fingertips. She could detect arousal in the heightened bumps forming on the flesh. Waiting for a sign to continue, she permitted her own awakening to be identified with a sigh.

Hitler's forceful contact required Leni's hand to wrap around his half hardened penis. His own words ringing throughout the room instilled a reinforced sense of authority. "That's it. Yes Leni, that's it. Show me." Closing his eyes, Hitler summoned memories of that Rally. The unrelenting shouts, the ongoing cries of "Heil!" it caused his excitement to grow, his erection now fully formed and aching in Leni's expert hand.

The curse of impotency afflicted Adolf Hitler on occasion, and he learned the art of keeping himself roused once an erection was achieved. Just as her lips grazed the tip, Hitler grabbed Leni's hair with both hands and tugged violently. Her intuition told her to move away immediately.

"Good girl. Stand up Leni, I want to see you." As she rose before him, her eyes took in her Führer's figure. The legs were smooth and incredibly pale. And though he presented the world with an air of power and energy, Hitler's muscles were only scarcely defined. The absence of body hair puzzled her. Her camera had captured so many visions of his full moustache, his unruly hair blowing ferociously in one motorcade after another.

"Slowly..." He instructed in a firm voice as she freed the buttons closing her blouse.

She obeyed, gradually working the material from her body. The tailored pants fell to the floor and collected at her feet. She was not the definition of the perfect Nazi woman. Though her body was toned and beautiful, Leni Riefenstahl was an independent, unmarried and childless female. And in the core of his soul a greater need formed to overpower her.

"And then these two institutions will equally educate the German man and, therefore strengthen and carry on their shoulders the German state, the German Reich!" The representation playing on the wall behind him moved Leni to absolute rapture. The fisted hands, the Brownshirt uniform soaked though with sweat, his distorted voice and the majesty of his brilliant words turned all attention away from the actual source standing uncovered in front of her.

The burning sensation of his hand striking her cheek brought her concentration back to the present. "I am here, Leni. Pay attention to the moment! Our time is at hand." She reached up and grabbed the ends of his coat and shirttails, pulling down on the fabric. Bowing her head, Leni immediately took the head of Hitler's penis in her mouth. He reached back to steady himself on a nearby chair as the fingers of her left hand slid from his remaining clothing to the base of his sex.

Leni's tongue moved over the swollen tip and Hitler stiffened as her lips closed over the flesh. His eyes fluttered as his head fell back. The ardent moans coming from her throat cut through the sound of the projector. Her thoughts, her attentions were directed solely towards her Führer's sex. Leni did not realize that he had lessened his reserve and permitted himself verbalize his pleasure.

She took Hitler's erection further into her mouth, breathing in through her nose. His hand fell on the back of her head once again, forcing her closer. Pushing him deeper. "That's right. Yes, don't stop. Until I say, do not stop." His voice was rock-hard and his fingers dug through Leni's hair with such force she could hear the follicles scrunch beneath his touch. "Tough as leather and hard as Krupp steel." He gasped as he struggled to take in air. And he was, for all the rumors she had heard about his personal life. Leni's was delighted to feel Hitler's strict sex filling her mouth, reacting to her efforts.

The footage was nearing its end, exacting what Hitler had always tried during his speeches—orgasm. "And again people will come and go and they will be engrossed anew and happy and inspired..." Each statement was like a powerful thrust from an eager lover. "… For the idea and the Movement live on in our people and with the Movement our symbol of eternity!"

Leni was lost. Misplaced and forgotten. It was only the present crash of her Führer's voice that roused her from the grandeur of the past instant. "Leni!" And Hitler slammed the heel of his hand into the woman's forehead. "Stop!" She came to, and opened her eyes to see and feel his ejaculation come in spurts, warm and thick against her exposed skin.

"Long live the National Socialist Movement! Long live Germany!" The recorded sound of his voice was reinforced by the incredibly vein and arrogant Adolf Hitler, who also spoke the words aloud. His face contorted, as the last of the ejaculate fell on his submissive woman. It was a look of satisfaction and contentment, and Leni felt the wetness between her legs increase as she watched his mouth form an elated smile. She wanted to run him down, to attack him. She wanted to gorge herself on his body as he had used hers. Within moments, he had dressed himself. And Leni remained silent, still on her knees. He ran a shaky hand along his hairline, temporarily taming the wandering strands. "You'll let me know when your work is completed." It wasn't a question. Yet another hole

Yet another hole

In this

Infested soul

In this



Seconds later, the couple sat erect on the sofa. Hitler seized his Walther pistol from the side table and Eva assembled with a content smile on her young and peaceful face. In her still hand-- the glass capsule of cyanide rested without a single tremor. She twisted her head as her husband spoke.

"Although during my years of struggle I believed I could not undertake the responsibility of marriage, I have now decided at the end of my life's journey to marry the young woman who, after many years of true friendship, came of her own free will to this city, when it was already almost completely under siege, in order to share my fate." Hitler spoke to the closed door opposite him, as though he were taking on an imaginary audience for the last time. Eva reached to lay a hand on his hunched shoulder. Though he had aged ten years in only a few months, the new bride saw only strength and vigor in her broken husband.

"Adi…" She whispered gently, leaning closer to her Führer.

He crooked his head and smiled adoringly at his wife and continued in a serene tone, "At her own desire she will go to death with me as my wife." Hitler kissed Eva with trembling lips and embraced her so she could feel the cold steel of the pistol against her back. "This will compensate us for what we both lost through the work in the service of my people."

The two broke apart and moved to either end of the undersized sofa. Adolf Hitler held the barrel of the pistol to his temple. With his free hand, he placed his own ampule of poison between his teeth and spoke from the left of his mouth. "When you hear the glass shatter my dear little one, do the same as your Wolf." He closed his eyes and bit down with a speedy crunch. Eva smelled burnt almonds and within an instant she heard the shot. The odor had distracted her, and she looked to see her husband's head blown half off. The better part of his skull and brain had adhered themselves to the wall behind them. A pool of blood began to gather on the cushion beside her, and she reached to take Hitler's limp hand within her own.

Slipping the glass capsule from her mouth, Eva gripped it between her thumb and forefinger, twirling the object in the thick crimson blood seeping from her lifeless companion's head. "I live only for your love..." She said as she replaced the poison between her teeth. As the shards of glass ruptured her gums, Eva Hitler's blood mixed with her husband's and within a moment her expired body slumped over the mutilated remains of Germany's Führer, as their fingers entwined.

Here we are you and I at last

In the right place, at the right time
every dream I've dreamed has come to pass
because you're right here and you're all mine
I can't believe the years of holding back are through.
And I can finally share what's in my heart with you

She hadn't remembered a single dream since that night in April. Where they were… which restaurant they had come out of. And why was there a sudden rain of bullets? Was Adolf Hitler not the adored Führer and Chancellor of Germany? Who were these people shooting at him? These men who so fearlessly safeguarded him with their own bodies? And why was Jilly huddled in the backseat next to the marked man?

It was horrifying. When the woman woke, sweat was everywhere. Like the night she dreamt of aliens and her own call to arms to save the country, Jilly found a goodly amount of acid had come up in her throat. Coupled with the tricky strain of catching her breath, she sat upward and saw that the Aqua Teen Hunger Force was playing on the television. Thank God! If the repeat function on her DVD player were in ill repair, the heavily tattooed lesbian would have suffered yet another late night anxiety attack. So many friends, lovers and family members berated her for leaving the TV on while she slept, but here was the prime example and reason for such a waste of electricity.

Shawn had taken Jilly into the village only a few nights earlier to see Downfall. A German film about Adolf Hitler's last ten days before his suicide. Having read a review in Time magazine at Lola's Tattoo Shop, she wondered why anyone would make a film in attempt to humanize such a seething monster. It was after googling the movie that Jilly became interested in Adolf—The man. She looked up various quotes and pictures. Read some other reviews of the film. In a week's time, Jilly found herself in the delicious throes of new obsession. She had been through it before. Many times. The sweet realization that she has been hooked. The fervor in which she'd study and retain useless information. Clark Gable had false teeth. Rex Harrison loved fried bread and cheese sandwiches. Jonathan Frid played MacBeth in Fort Lee, New Jersey. Now, her friends and family rolled their eyes when she announced on April 20th that she would be eating vanilla cake for Adolf's birthday… and making ravioli on April 30th – The day he shot himself.

Lola was undeniably gracious about Jilly's new affinity. She sat at the kitchen table in her beautiful Victorian farmhouse and listened to the girl yammer on about Adolf The Painter… Adolf The Vegetarian… Adolf The Scatter. She even allowed Johnny to tattoo a happy face with blue eyes, an out of place forelock, and a Hitler-like moustache on her shoulder. Kurt was working on a huge shin piece of Adolf's Roses in a Blue Vase, Jilly's favorite of the Führer's paintings. She and Dolores had hours logged on AOL's Instant Messenger… Hours of sick, twisted and amusing discussion regarding their new obsessions. Their undying devotion to their "Wolves".

Her twin sister was less then amused. "I don't want to hear about Hitler anymore." The same was said by her mother. No doubt more would be said had Jilly come in contact with Avram Riesner, her beloved rabbi back in high school. When at her father's house, he asked, "What is this thing with you and Adolf Hitler? Are you a white supremacist now?"

"Think of the person I am. The person I have been, and if you need to ask that again I'll try and explain this." How could she explain to her father that she did not hate… that she did not believe in keeping one's blood pure. Only that she was swimming with lustful feelings… sick ideas for a story… and genuine admiration for a man that everyone with a shred of decency in their head abhorred?

One obsession after another saw this confused lesbian lusting after some famous man. To the point of many surrounding her with doubt in regards to her sexuality. Her love of a lifetime was extremely adaptable in the bedroom, allowing Jilly to act out Jane Eyre and Dark Shadows fantasies. Even a lying child she entertained on the Internet and telephone would often ask, "This Frid? Should I be jealous of him?"

A few nights after that dream, the one with bullets and blood, Jilly found herself in a huge outdoor amphitheater. The audience members were set ablaze from the orator's speech and she was no exception. To her surprise, the very man of the evening was ascending the stairs near her aisle. "What an odd place to make an exit." Jilly thought as a few babbling girls expressed themselves in a tongue the man did not understand. "Ich speck vey liddle English, sah-rie." She was along side him in spirit. Why the hell would American teenagers run their mouths at Adolf Hitler? Soon she would understand…

Herr Hitler walked straight towards her. His face wore an awkward smile; his eyes were wide but mostly showing a timid disposition. How one could speak like that to thousands of people for hours at a time and feel inhibited in front of a single person, Jilly could not imagine. She approached him, terrified herself, "I only speak English myself, but I have no other way to express what you mean to me…"

He smiled, flashing his sugar stained teeth. Only Jilly would find this display endearing. "Ist fine, I can speck enough to talk vit zoo." Adolf held out his hand and shook the girl's with strength and vigor, amused at the power she returned. The two went off together, talking and laughing. They were like old pals content to merely be in one another's lost presence. Though the emptied stalls and doorways, along the halls and broken macadam, Jilly and Adolf had reached his Mercedes. Scores of black shirted SS troops had hands on the handle of their guns perchance the oddly dressed dyke might try and harm their Führer. They went on like birds, squawking and laughing until Adolf reached the car door.

"Mein Führer! Would you like to invite the lady to your next speech? It is time we left." One particularly tall SS solider shouted.

"Nein! Ich ave serched var too long fir dish Jill who undershtandz vhere I come vrom."

"But Führer …" The soldier waved a hand over his forehead and then to his underarms. "You should be getting home, no?"

Germany's Leader was drenched in sweat. No doubt he reeked of body odor as he always did after hours of speaking. Turning a shade of red Jilly had not observed before, Adolf took off in another direction. He ran as if he carried a double secret message and the fate of the Reich was in Field Runner Hitler's hands. Jilly furrowed her brow and mumbled an expletive or two before hauling ass after him. When she finally caught up, he was well and truly out of breath… and so was she. The two stood looking at the ground. It was at least five minutes before they spoke again.

Adolf was enraged, as the world had often witnessed. She stood back and permitted him. It must have reassured the man in some way, to feel bold and honorable. To take thunderous authority of the situation. To her amazement, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her toward him. Pressing his lips with vulgar energy to hers, Adolf kissed the mystified lesbian with an infatuation she had never imagined in any of her masturbatory overtures. He pulled at the collar of her ragged "Lola's: A Pirate's Life" T-shirt, and exposed her tattooed chest. When she would remember this deed, she'd always think first of how warm his tongue was. How it seemed to cover a large amount of skin in such a short amount of time.

They stood in silence. Kissing. Fumbling. Touching varied body parts with exploring hands. It wasn't until the next day that Jilly found the courage to tell anyone about the dream. She was awakened with such an affectionate feeling of bliss. And after telling a select few, she realized just how fucked up her pals thought she really was.

What will always be remembered with fondness and lust would always be mentioned in jest.