Posted by TKDBB on June 02, 2001 at 13:03:09:
Cold Kill – Part 2 Another Alternate ending
Captain Ellen Shultz watched the gauges in the cockpit of her Junkers transport plane as the engines were warmed up. On the fight in, she had notice an oil pressure problem on engine two. Mechanics had just finished servicing all four engines and she needed to be confident before risking a long flight in darkness. She and her crew of three were preparing for the last leg of their re-supply run to the artic radio station. The plane was loaded to capacity with fuel drums, food, and two replacement radio technicians. Thirty minutes later the big plane lumbered down the runway and slowly lifted off.
Helga cooked a meal of sausage and flapjacks. She and Max ate together at the shack’s small table. The air between them was still tense and nothing much was said. Helga cleaned up after while Max removed the bolts from the German rifles and threw them into the snow along with the Walther pistol. Helga watched without showing emotion. She had expected as much and planned all along to use the 45 against Max.
When they had finished the tasks, Max sat Helga at the table and spent the next hour questioning her about the stations operations. Helga spoke freely about the German’s mission, hoping to convince Max that she was not a threat. She carefully avoided mentioning the frequency of re-supply flights. When Max ran out of questions, Helga supplied a question of her own.
“Are you going to keep this up much longer”? “I thought you would have raped me by now”. “Not that I would mind since I haven’t had a man in months.” “But first I got to pee.”
Her comments dispelled the remaining tension between the two enemy soldiers. While Helga relieved herself behind the curtain, Max removed his gun-belt and placed it on top of the ruined radios. He could hear the tinkle of her warm piss into the latrine and began to get aroused by the mental picture. Max sat at the table waiting for her return. When Helga came out, she immediately strode over to Max and sat on his lap straddling him. The hot-blooded vixen took his head in her hands and pulled him into a deep kiss. Her lush hips ground lazy circles on his thighs. Max’s cock strained to be free of his pants and impale the German tart. The American held the German with one arm while his free hand began to explore the wonders under her tight sweater. Helga moaned as he cupped and massaged first one soft breast and then the other. She lifted the bra from her boobs and the round orbs bounced free. Max caught one in his hand and felt the soft warmth of the Nazi’s naked flesh. Her nipple was a rigid nub between his fingers and each roll of his digits brought a soft moan from the busty blond. She freed herself long enough to pull the sweater and bra over her head then she cupped her right breast and placed it in Max’s waiting lips. Max suckled at her bosom while his hands roamed up and down the gentle curves of her side and belly. She, in turn, wormed her hand inside his shirt and caressed the hard muscles of his hairy chest.
The mutual upper body massaging continued for about ten minutes, then as if by some unheard but sensed queue; both stood up.
Helga backed up a step and with a shake of her lush loins, hooked her pants and underwear. As she had promised, her body was firm, trim and sexy. Max let his eyes drink in her ample charms as she busied herself with his belt. It didn’t take her long to have Max’s remaining clothes bunched up around his ankles. It took her even less time to engulf his rigid prick in her hot, wet mouth. The hot babe pushed Max back into the chair so she could kneel in front of him and work her oral magic on his male member. She nipped, sucked and licked him to the precipice of ejaculation twice before lifting her hot twat and slipping onto his throbbing tool. As her slippery pussy took the full length of his cock and ground against his pelvis, they both came. Helga’s “Mein Gott” blended with Max’s “Hot Damn” as she slumped against him.
Max took a moment to recover then he lifted the 120-pound girl and laid her face down over the table. He came up behind her and fucked her dog style. Helga regained her senses and grasped the table with both hands while thrusting her cunt back to meet Max’s powerful thrusts. In minutes she orgasmed again, throwing her head back and howling with delight. Max followed soon after, filling her waiting womb to overflowing with sticky jism. The erstwhile lovers retreated to Helga’s bunk where between short catnaps; they fucked away the rest of the day. The Nazi nymph took it between the tits, in her tight asshole and good old flat on her back style.
As evening fell, they had to tend to the generators and have another meal. They seemed completely at ease with each other. No one could have guessed that only that morning they had been bitter enemies. Or so it seemed. When they again curled up in Helga’s bunk for the night, she began to sob. Max did his best to comfort her. She grieved for her dead companions. Max expressed his regret that he had been force to slaughter the four girls. Soon they both fell asleep.
Two AM and Ellen’s flight still was four hours out from the artic station. Her eyes bore out into the inky blackness of the night. The dark shy blended into the icy waters of the ocean below her plane. She was flying by instruments and the stars, taking course correction instructions from navigator Therese Von Pelt. Ellen glanced over at her co-pilot. Anna Hacht, twenty-seven, short cropped light brown hair, slim and petite, seemed out of place in the cockpit. But Ellen knew the girl could fly as well as she fucked. The two had been lovers for over a year. Lately though, Ellen’s eyes had been straying. She had been smitten by Eileen; one of the two replacement radio operators in the back. The brunette was barely nineteen years old and on her first duty since completing radio school. Ellen had seen her the previous day, five foot ten in a tight fitting new uniform. A bust line that could turn heads at a blind man’s convention, full hips that swayed to her slinking gate, she was a dream girl for lesbian or straight. Ellen’s reverie was burst by the crackle of her head set.
“Sir, still getting no response from Artic Station”, came the call from flight engineer and radio operator Kelli Donguard.
“Keep trying, they must still be having transmitter problems.”
Max woke at 5:30 and realized he was alone in the bunk. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up, he became aware of Helga sitting on a chair facing him. She was buck-naked with her legs slightly apart. She also held the 45 trained on his chest.
“Good Morning Max, I thought you might like one last look at my pussy before I kill you.”
Max’s eyes danced between the girl’s golden bush and the steel blue barrel of the Colt. He tried to stall for time.
“Helga, you don’t want to do this.” “I can help you get out of here”.
“No Max, I don’t need your help.” “A plane should be here within the hour with reinforcements and supplies.” “When I report back to the Fatherland, they will probably give me a medal for killing you.” “This station will be back up within weeks”.
“But I could have killed you yesterday, we developed a bond”.
“You American fool, I did what I needed to survive”. “Those girls you murdered were my friends, one was my lover”. “You were a decent fuck but I’ve had better back in Hamburg”. “Enough talk, look into the face of your executioner, a member of the Aryan master race!”
Helga stood, legs apart holding the colt out with both hands. She aimed the Colt at Max’s heart and pulled the trigger.
“Kblamm!”
It was a big gun and she was a petite girl. As she pulled the trigger, the gun moved just enough that the bullet hit Max in the shoulder. The man was flung back into the bunk with his right arm dangling uselessly. Helga tried to steady the Colt and fired again.
“Kblamm!”
“Eeeiiiii!”
This time Max squealed like a woman. The slug had ripped into his groin and blown away one testicle.
“Damn it bitch, finish me”, he muttered between clenched teeth.
“Kblamm!”
The third slug finally found vital organs in Max’s chest. The American grunted and went limp. Helga spat on his dead body, and then found an orgasmic wave flooding through her body. She took the hot barrel of the gun and rubbed her clit. More aroused, she forced most of the barrel up her pussy. Wave after wave of lust washed over her and when she removed the gun, it dripped with her juices. She sat down in the chair and let herself recover. Helga checked the time and knew the plane was due soon. She got dressed in her full snowsuit even as she heard the Junkers engine throbbing in the distance.
“Ellen, something is wrong down there”, spoke Anna. She was surveying the horizon with a pair of high power binoculars. “Damn, there is an American flag flying, the bastards must have taken over the station”.
“No wonder we lost contact”, replied Ellen. “Have the crew man the machine guns”. “I think we can strafe them.
“Your not going to land”, queried Anna. “What if our girls are still alive”?
“Look again and tell me every thing you see out of the ordinary”.
Anna peered through the binoculars and reported again an American flag then she saw the tarp covered mound with the Nazi flag on it.
“There you are Anna, there are our girls”. ”The bastards have killed them”.
Ellen gave all four engines maximum throttle. She would make the slow transport double as a ground attack fighter if only for a few moments.
Helga strode from the shack just as the Junkers began a parallel flight to bring its side mounted machine gun mounts to bear. From several hundred feet away Kelli could not tell if she was man or woman. Not that it mattered. Kelli assumed the figure must be American. The twin 7.62mm barrels coughed to life spraying the loose snow with hundreds of deadly missiles. Bullets thudded into the frozen bodies piled near the shack. More tore through the shack itself. Hilda realized to late what had happened. A slug ripped through her thigh and she fell into the snow. From that angle she could see the flagpole.
“Oh no, that son of a bitch!”
As the plane banked around for the kill, Helga frantically crawled over to the pole and tore down the flag just as Therese’s guns came to bear.
“Hold your fire!” screamed Ellen into the ship’s intercom. “She must be one of ours”.
Ellen pulled the plane up and began an approach run to land.
“Sir, still no contact with our Artic operative.” The British Captain addressed his senior officer in the secret operations room shared by wartime OSS and MI6 operatives.
“What about the Antarctic operation?”
“Sir, Col. Olga Nikioff has reported success.” “Her operatives met light resistance and destroyed the enemy in a firefight.” “The installation has been destroyed and the force is inroute home”. “No casualties on our side”.
“See, I told you those Russian women were good”. “We should have used the other team instead of a single man.” “Damn that Monty for sticking his nose in.” “Well now we have no choice, send in the back up Russian force.”
“Yes Sir, consider it done.”
The Nazi aircrew, Helga and the two replacements tallied their losses while sipping hot coffee. Food was not a problem, however two girls could not man the station and Helga needed medical attention for her thigh wound. New girls could be flown in but the real problem was the radios. Both were damaged beyond the repair capabilities available. It was decided that they would abandon the station in the morning and fly back to Germany. New crews and equipment could be sent out later.
Ellen wanted the plane as light as possible for take-off so the girls spent the rest of the day unloading the planes cargo of food and fuel drums. They also searched out and repaired the weapons. Helga hobbled around the shack plugging bullet holes to keep the heat in. She cooked supper for the cold, hungry girls. Sleeping would be tight with only two bunks for seven girls. The aircrew would need more rest so those four girls shared the bunks while the three radio operators slept on the floor.
Helga had trouble sleeping. The wound in her thigh wasn’t hurting too much anymore but it was throbbing. She didn’t have much room to move around, sandwiched between Jan, the brunette amazon and Francine, a petite redhead. She was warm enough, absorbing the other girl’s body heat while giving of her own. It was very quite in the shack. Ellen and Anna’s lusty moans had stopped and now only the sounds of breathing wafted through the night air. Around two in the morning, during one of her short bits of sleep, Helga’s hand swung over and landed on Jan’s firm right breast. Jan’s eyes blinked open and she looked over at Helga’s closed eyes. Jan touched Helga’s hand as if to lift it off her tit, instead she pressed it harder. The brunette moaned a low, lustful growl. She slipped the warm hand under her cotton top and pushed to her bare tit. Still asleep, Helga non-the less began to rub the firm flesh mound. Jan’s nipple hardened to the size of a small grape. She let the blond caress her boob while she trailed her hand down Helga’s torso until she found the blonde’s golden triangle. When Jan’s finger parted Helga’s pussy lips, the blond woke. Nazi blond stared at Nazi brunette for a few seconds then the two girls locked in deep tongue kiss. Jan pushed her finger deeper into Helga’s warm snatch and added a second. Helga had a tit in one hand and Jan’s tight ass cheek in the other. Their hot mouths were still locked tightly together but their equally hot bodies were writhing in ecstasy. It wasn’t long before Francine was awakened.
“Hey guys, I’m trying to sleepppmmmmm”.
Helga broke her kiss with Jan, rolled over and planted one on the startled Francine. The blond had completely forgotten about her sore thigh.
Francine fought the kiss for a moment then accepted Helga’s advances. The little redhead moaned softly as Helga chewed ever so lightly on her pert left tit. Straddled by the bigger blond, Francine grasped blond hair as her nipples were gnawed and her pussy explored with deft fingers. Not to be left out, Jan reached into her duffle bag and strapped on a nine-inch dildo. Helga bucked like wild bronco when Jan took her from behind and rammed the plastic dick deep into her wet pussy. The blond dropped on the redhead and Francine reached around her and drilled her finger up Jan’s ass. Countless orgasms later, the three sluts collapsed into a sweaty, naked heap and slept till the next fateful morning.
Sigorney Smirnoff made a last minute check of her troops before the airdrop. The six female assault squad would be dropped into the sea several miles off shore to avoid detection and swim to the coast with the aid of an underwater battery operated craft. The Soviet girls wore specially designed insulated rubber wetsuits that would protect them in the cold water and on the two-mile march to the station. Each girl was armed with a submachine gun wrapped in a waterproof pouch and a spear gun for use in emergencies. At twenty-eight, Sigorney was the oldest of the group. All the girls had been born or spent much time in Siberia. All had friends, relatives and family die by Nazi hands. They looked forward to the mission and the opportunity to extract a small measure of revenge on the Nazi sluts. At almost the same moment Jan was stuffing the dildo into Helga’s cunt, the Soviet team was dropping into the cold, blue water.
Dawn broke sunny over the Artic station. Ellen woke early and rousted her crew. She had a little trouble waking the three radio operators. Last minute preparations to leave needed to be done. First on the list was getting fresh water for the flight. Ellen told Therese and Francine to gather snow to be melted while Helga made coffee and eggs. It was a warm morning with the temperature around 25 degrees so the two girls only dressed in boots and coats. They started a fire with diesel fuel and began melting snow in a large iron pot. When Francine thought she saw a shape in the distance, the two girls assumed it was a seal. With thoughts of fresh meat on their minds, they took their rifles and went hunting. The Nazis had just crested a rise when they realized to their horror they had made a fatal error in judgment. Ivana Metloff had seen the Germans approach and signaled the rest of the troop. They lay in the snow in wait. Six lethal spear guns pointed at the rise the German girls must traverse. The Nazis barely had time to swing their rifles before the spears impacted their soft bodies. Francine screamed in mortal agony as a cold aluminum shaft burrowed into her crotch followed in milliseconds by one in her belly and a third between her small tits. Her rifle dropped soundlessly, unfired into the fluffy snow. Therese grunted obscenely as a spear thudded into her right breast. A second flew wide allowing the staggered Nazi to get of a shot at her attackers. It was pure luck that caused the bullet to smash into Ivana’s face and blow the big blonde’s head open. Therese tried to turn and flee but the last spear caught her low in the back and ripped through her kidney, ending up protruding from her stomach just below the navel. She fell forward into the snow and lay limp as Alexandra Kruskof pulled up her head and slit the Nazi’s throat.
The shot alarmed Ellen who looked out in time to see a tall woman stand over a fallen one. Ellen caught the glint of the knife blade in the sun as it torn open soft tissue.
“Shit! Get the guns! We’ve got company!”
The five remaining Russians were running as fast as the snow would allow toward the shack. They tore open the coverings from their machine guns as they ran. They approached from a direction not visible from the shack’s single window so the Nazi babes had no choice but to run outdoors to meet them. Ellen, Anna, Jan and Kelli burst out the door and into the snow drifts. Helga used the doorway for cover. This time the German’s first volley caught the Soviets flat footed. Natasha, the butch dyke of the group, spun more gracefully in death than she ever had in life. Anna’s 7.62mm bullet took the big Russian dead center in her left tit. As she gasped for air, Anna put another bullet into the dyke’s guts. With Natasha face down in the snow, the other Russians quickly found cover and opened up on the German positions. The rapid firing machine guns soon swung the battle in favor of the Red Army girls. Ellen cursed and spit blood as the slugs traced a path across her position with several lodging in her chest. Anna saw her lover die, fired one last shot that drilled Petra in the upper belly, and ran to Ellen. She was cut down by a burst that ripped through her body at hip level. The shorthaired blond stared dumbly at her guts as they spewed out in front of her. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she dropped into the gore stained snow.
Kelli died next. The Russian girls laid down a withering burst of fire as they burst from their positions and charged the shed. Little geysers of snow erupted all around the Nazi girl and she panicked. She stood and waved her arms in a frantic attempt to surrender. The Soviet girls were not in the mood to take prisoners. Alexandra and Svetlana’s machine guns tore open dozens of holes in the staggering German’s buxom body. Her brown leather flight jacket dripped with blood and smashed bone as the dead girl twitched under continuing impacts. Helga was taking relatively light fire and she had time to drill one of the Russians. Svetlana, a statuesque blond amazon in her own right; arched up to her full five foot ten inch height. Her machine gun flew skyward as both her hands clawed at the 7.62 bullet hole that pierced her wet suit and ripped into her navel. She gave a last curse, spun around and fell on her back. The Russian girl’s arms flopped out and she died with a gurgle of blood dripping from her mouth.
Helga dropped her empty rifle and hefted the dead American’s 45. She fired at Alexandra and a poorly placed shot smashed the Russian in the crotch. Alex’s pussy was brutally raped by the hot lead load. She cried out like a wounded animal. The Russian girl stood frozen from shock, bewildered eyes not believing her fate. Jan finished her off, putting a bullet into the heaving mound of the girl’s left breast just off center and below the nipple. The slug burrowed through the soft breast tissue and tumbled off a rib ripping open her lung and left ventricle. Blood sprayed from her torn wetsuit as she tumbled down.
Jan didn’t get to savor her kill. Sigorney swung her burp gun around and laced the busty Nazi right across her bountiful tits. Jan stumbled, choking on her blood. She held her riddled orbs as the pain twisted her face into a grimace. As she crumbled into a dead heap, she gasped out Helga’s name. Helga had her own problems. Sigorney swung the gun at Helga and as the last Nazi ducked back into the shack, the last Soviet shredded the doorframe where Helga had just stood. One slug clanked off the 45 knocking it from Helga’s grasp. It slid across the floor. Helga went after it. She had picked it up and was turning back when Sigorney burst into the room with her finger squeezing the machine gun’s trigger. Nothing happened. For the second time in as many days, Helga won a respite because of an empty gun. As Sigorney threw the gun in disgust and reached for her field knife, Helga squeezed the trigger of the 45. Instead of a booming report, she met a stuck trigger. The safety had been activated when the gun was shot from her hand! Helga frantically fumbled with the safety as Sigorney readied her knife. The Russian was six feet away when both women played their last cards.
“Whoosh!”
“Blaam!
“Oowwwwwww!”
“Eeiiiiiiiiiiii!”
Helga’s plaintive moan as the knife buried itself in her taut upper belly blended with Sigorneys’ squeal when the 45 slug punched into the pout of her lower belly. Both women looked down at their bleeding bellies then up at each other.
“Well Nazi, it looks like we all die here today”, Sigorney gasped.
“Yah, Ruskie, we die in this God forsaken place and no one will care”.
“Mmmmm, it hurts so bad.” Sigorney squeezed at her ruined belly. The shiny red blood oozed between her fingers and down the black suit.
“This chunk of steel in my belly doesn’t feel real good either,” gasped Helga, “ but at least I wasn’t killed by a man.”
“Dah, those pigs think we are only there to be fucked, then they start this damn war and we pay the price!”
The girls stumbled together, dropping to their knees, each supporting the other.
“Sorry”.
“Yah, me too.”
Russian and German embraced in a final peace treaty. They kissed deeply, warmly, with no lust or hate, just the co-misery of two defeated pawns. Then they fell to the side and died; Sigorney first, Helga a few minutes later.
The End