Posted by Ay-Wun on October 07, 2006 at 22:42:47:
He lay in his bed after two AM feeling old. He lay there thinking of Wiesbaden. Wiesbaden forty-three years ago. Wiesbaden and Renata. When he was young, and she was young, and doing as the young do. One week of R&R in Wiesbaden one week of wonder. When they were young.
It had been an IM, of all things that brought it all tumbling back to the forefront of his mind, from wherever those things go to hide. Renata and Wiesbaden and a cold December week of love and wonder. And of wondering now how it all went wrong. How had that magic been lost?
His SAC Wing was doing a TDY (Temporary duty) assignment at Upper Hayford, England. Having completed a difficult, but successful modification to their assigned B-47s, the C.O. had rewarded Jerry, Blake and he with an R&R to Wiesbaden, Germany. They had finished in less time than the other teams had, in easier weather back home.
The flight across was uneventful, and in Wiesbaden they got a hotel room and went out to see what was what. They saw shops set up in lean-tos in the facades of bombed out buildings. They found the Airmen's Club that had set up shop in the lavish building that had been a casino, and they saw a little bakery, and feeling hungry went inside. And he saw Renata, and Renata saw him. And something serendipitous clicked. While Jerry and Blake were looking at cake, he was looking at lovely Renata. Somehow, his usual shyness took a vacation, and he talked with Renata. She with her moderate command of English talked with him. Magic was happening in that shop, for in the short time it took for his buddies to buy a cake and some cookies he had made a date to meet her when the shop closed at seven PM.
The guys were astonished when he told them but were happy for him, and jealous as hell. He was there at six-thirty, and waited. She had seen him from inside, and rushed out as soon as she could. Then the real magic began. She showed him her town and he took her to the A. Club where they danced, though he was no dancer. That very first night she stayed with him at the hotel. Under the thick eider quilt they made love. And every one of those seven days when she wasn't working they were together. When she was at the shop he felt lost.
But the magic abruptly ended, he had to fly back to England. Renata and he exchanged adresses, both sure they would soon be wed, as they tearfully said farewell. He considered going AWOL as they rode to the air base, but the gooney-bird took him back to Hayford. Then tragedy struck, the six by six taking them off the plane hit a spot of black ice and overturned, spewing them all on the tarmac. Jerry had a broken arm and lots of scrapes and bruises, Blake just had some bruises. But he had a broken collar bone and a fractured skull, he didn't wake up for nine days.
When he woke, it was in California, at the hospital on their home base. He couldn't write for a month, and when he did, the letters all came back. The address he'd given her was the APO in England. If she wrote, he never recieved her letter. After recovery he tried to get leave to go to her, but couldn't get free for six months. When he finally got leave, he flew back to Wiesbaden, but she wasn't there. He went to where her home had been, but it was now an open space between two buildings. At the shop only one girl still knew who she was, and she, in very broken English said she had left two months before, looking very pregnant. Though he tried everything he could, she was not to be found. World War Two was still hanging around in 1953 and many records and addresses were very iffy. He never saw or heard from her again.
Then last week, in 2004, he recieved an IM at the forum he posted his stories, came from Germany. Her forum alias was Britta-Maus, and she wanted to be in one of his stories. She asked him to write of her being cooked and eaten in some way, to fulfill her fantasy. He asked her to tell him what she looked like, so he could describe her in the story. In her broken English writing she said she'd do better than that with the next IM there was an attachment, he clicked on it. It was super slow loading, so he went to pour a cup of coffee. He was taking a sip as he turned back to the screen, and nearly choked on the coffee, spilling some from the cup on the floor.
It was Renata. Her golden blonde hair was shorter, and styled differently, and she wore a mini-skirt, but it was Renata. "How could it be?" he thought, "She'd only been a year younger than he." But it was Renata. He stood there, not moving, as the past rushed back, and tumbled about him. It was Renata, he stood numbly with the coffee forgotten in his hand staring at the screen. Slowly his mind began to function again.
Britta-Maus said she was nineteen, that would mean she was born in '84 or '85, if her mother was 31 0r 32 when she was born, Britta could be..... Britta must be, his grand daughter. Wait, she could have had other children. Britta had said , when he answered her first IM and jokingly said, he'd been in Germany many years before, and was old enough to be her grandpa, that she'd never known her grandfather. He knew that, come hell or highwater, he had to go to Germany and meet her.
Cautiously he coaxed her little by little into telling him where she lived. During this coaxing she told him, the reason she wanted him to write her into the story was because she was in a Dolcett Club, and had been chosen for it to really happen a week from now, and she wanted to read about it ahead of time. Fortunately, he had enough money, and nothing to tie him down. He booked a flight on Lufthansa out of SFO and IMd Britta to meet his plane at the airport near her home in Schleswig-Holstein. So he flew to her hoping somehow to disuade this lovely girl from carrying out her cherished fantasy.
As he cleared customs with the small bag he'd brought, there she was at the gate, a beautiful vision to his eyes, but instead of the golden hair he'd expected, she wore what looked like a black wig just like the avatar picture. but he knew it was Britta, and she came into his arms as a young man with her took the bag from his hand. Her lips met his at first in a maidenly touch, then it quickly became a thing full of passion and lust. He was stunned as she finally broke off that kiss and looked up at him with a twinkle in her eyes and an impish grin on her face,
"Welcome opa," she said.
They led him to a car, and she pulled him into the back seat, and cuddled with her opa as she kept calling him, while the young man, who she introduced as Kurt drove. He tried to persuade her, as they rode, that this fantasy of hers was unreal, but she just giggled and shook her head with a pixie smile on her lovely face. The car suddenly stopped and she cried,
"Here we are opa dear."
He looked up to discover that they were parked in front of what looked like a night club, and as he was hustled out of the car she said,
"It's all been moved up to tonight in your honor, doesn't that thrill you, I know it does me."
So he wasn't even to have a decent opportunity to talk her out of it. Events kept moving at a rapid fire pace, as they went inside to applause from a crowded room. Reaching the front, they stepped on to a slightly raised stage, and as they did, Britta unbuttoned the dress she was wearing, and shedding it showed that underneath she wore a facsimile of the costume her avatar icon had worn. The sexy red stockings and the silly little jacket that somehow framed her small perfectly formed breasts. She pulled him toward a small satin covered cot and purred,
"You must come into me now dear opa."
He protested, "I can't."
Britta smiled as she pointed to the bulge in his pants,
"Oh, but that tells me you are ready and able."
As he let her unbuckle and take down his pants, as if he had become her robot. She backed onto the cot pulling him with her then guided him willingly into her warmth. She was moist and he, at first, easily slid in, then suddenly, surprisingly he met resistance. But Britta was not to be denied, she forcibly pulled him into her. The barrier gave way as he thought,
"My god, she was a virgin."
She pulled him into a wonderful sexual union, and though it took a while, it seemed in no time, they both were cumming together.
Strong hands pulled him to his feet, as others gently lifted Britta from the cot and carried her to a trapeze like structure. A framework of black bars suspended by cables with the lowest bar resting on the floor. As the two men carrying Britta set her down, she backed up placing her feet on this bar, two clicks were heard as her ankles were locked from behind. As Britta crouched on the bar, her arms were secured to the bar her back was resting on. A fearful look came to her face as a man approached with what looked almost like a grease gun with a needle at its tip, and injected something into her breasts, and her lovely B cups became swollen to twice their size.
That fearful look crossed her face again as the cables then lifted her high in the air, and brought down further back where, now it was revealed, a long, sharp spit was standing mounted in a socket bolted to the floor. And down Britta came onto the spit perfectly aligned with her pretty vagina. It entered her and gravity moved it a foot or more into her recently virgin cunt. For a moment then there was a pause, and for that moment he realized, Britta looked exactly like that avatar icon that had represented her on the forum.
This lasted only a moment as two men took hold of the frame and skillfully eased the spit through her beautiful body. Another man came up behind, and tilted her head back with exact timing as the spit rose out of her lips. The cables were quickly shifted then, and Britta was brought horizontally now across the stage to where the coals were waiting, and lowered into the chocks.
The cables were removed, and Britta began turning on the final phase of her fantasy. He suddenly blurted out,
"They didn't remove the stockings and vest." And someone said,
"They are made of a spun sugar like substance, much like those edible panties, they will melt into a wonderful glaze."
As Britta turned on her spit he could see what can only be described as a happy gleam in her eyes, and her squirming body twitched now and then as if in orgasm. She didn't really last very long over the coals, and soon her eyes closed as if she slept, and her body became still.
All at once, The stockings, jacket and wig reached their ignition point, bursting into momentary flame, then dying, leaving behind a red-gold glaze on her shapely legs and arms, while what had seemed like black shoulder pads and wig, transformed into a golden glaze over her head, shoulders and back. As Britta magnificently turned over the coals, he was torn between being happy and heartbroken for her. Suddenly, from behind him, a voice said,
"Isn't she the most beautiful thing you've ever seen Gene?"
Slowly he turned, her hair was silver now not gold, and the face he loved was lightly lined by the years,
"No," he answered, "But she is the second most beautiful thing I've ever seen, Renata."
They came together then and held each other tightly. It was as though all those years had never been. They dined that night on sweet delicious Britta.
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