Chapter Fourteen
Martha sat at the kitchen table listening to the rhythmic smack of hazel rod on bare flesh wishing it were her and not Mila and Nina. The deeper trouble was that Martha’s lovers were back in Paris and there on the farm she had no one to satisfy her s****l needs, and they proved persistent and intolerable. And when the screwing failed, her mind turned to other forms of sensual appeasement.
The punishment stopped at twelve and then resumed, presumably on the other girl. Whipped for f*****g the soldiers it seemed. Martha could do with both.
Having waited for nigh on an hour for him, Erich finally bounded down the stairs. He lit the gas under a kettle then settled opposite Martha at the kitchen table. “You English like tea don’t you?”
“Verpiss dich!”
Erich continued in Fr
