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Soviet female soldiers 

The old man lay in bed. The ranchers from the nearby farm had just left; some called him Uncle Julio, others Grandpa Julio. They had come to see him off. Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps in a week, he would die. The cancer had spread throughout his body—brain cancer, liver cancer, and prostate cancer—all primary. His life was nearing its end.
Maria, the 60-year-old cook, her back still as thick as a barrel, gently entered the room and said, "Sir, what would you like to eat?" Julio shook his head and sighed. "Bring me the injection." The syringe contained two milligrams of morphine. The old man skillfully injected the medicine into his vein, closed his eyes, and savored a moment of bliss. Was there anything he couldn't let go of? All the real estate had been distributed to the villagers, all the cash to Maria. Childless and without children, he could rest in peace, taking all his secrets with him as he went to hell.
The doorbell rang. Oh, right, he had one last meeting with a stranger, an American female writer. He didn't know why she insisted on visiting him, a nobody Argentine farmer, but he liked her voice. "She must be a blonde beauty in her late twenties," he thought, hoping to arrange this meeting at the end of his life. Dying while looking at a beautiful woman and having a warm conversation seemed fitting for a lieutenant colonel medic in the Third Reich's SS.
"Hello, Mr. Carlos, it's good to meet you." Sure enough, he saw a young woman whose beauty surpassed even her voice. A crisp gray suit, cream-colored stilettos, and flesh-colored stockings. "They must be pantyhose," the old man judged based on his experience.
“Hello, Miss Smith, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I hope I’m not the best look you’ve come to expect.”
“Well, you look better than I expected.”
“Haha, you flatter me. Please have a seat.” The old man, panting, said, “Miss Smith, what would you like to drink?”
“Coffee. You can call me Anne.”
“Maria, bring me a pot of coffee. Don’t come in unless I ring the bell.”
“What would you like to know?”
“I’d like to show you a video before my formal visit, is that alright?” Anne said, casually turning on a small tape recorder.
The old man nodded.
Anne opened her portable laptop, inserted a CD, and the screen showed a withered old woman speaking Russian, with German subtitles at the bottom. Through tears, the old woman repeatedly said, "They say we're traitors, but how could we be traitors?"
Anne paused the recording. "Mr. Carlos, do you know her?"
"What language is she speaking? Is it Slavic? I'm sorry, I don't know why you're showing me this." Anne didn't speak, but clicked the mouse to continue. The screen then showed a photograph of a female soldier, or more precisely, a Soviet Red Army sergeant—young, simple, and smiling. No one would connect her to the old woman from before, yet they were indeed the same person.
Julio. Carlos almost fainted; before collapsing, he pointed to the injection with his left hand.
Anne administered the injection, and Julio couldn't utter a word, as if having an epileptic seizure.
“Mr. Carlos, oh no, Mr. Schulz, your reaction says it all.” A hint of smugness played on Anne’s lips. “You can rest assured, I’m not a Mossad, CIA, or FBI agent, much less a special agent of the NKVD. I’m just a writer, and I only want to know the truth.”
Schulz took a long time to catch his breath. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
“Where to begin?” The old man pondered. “Alright, I’ll start from before the war.”
Schulz licked his lips. “I graduated in 1938 with a doctoral dissertation on human genetics and reproduction. I then found a job in Berlin. In 1939, I joined the National Socialist Workers’ Party. You must know, Miss Anne, at the time I didn’t entirely agree with the NSP’s propositions, but everyone else had joined, and I had no other choice. In September, the war broke out, but I always felt it was far away from me. I was an obstetrician, my mission was to assist life in coming into the world, and it had nothing to do with killing in war.” But in February 1941, a conscription notice was placed on my desk. I was ordered to report to the conscription office within 72 hours. At the end of April, our entire field medical battalion was assigned to the 11th Army of Army Group South.
The commander of Army Group South was Field Marshal von Rundstedt. Our mission was to attack Kiev and annihilate the main Soviet forces in Ukraine west of the Dnieper River. Our opponents at the time were the Soviet Southwestern Front, part of the Bryansk Front, and the right wing of the Southern Front stationed in Ukraine, commanded by Field Marshal Budyonny, Commander-in-Chief of the Southwestern Front.
The war was extremely brutal. I clearly remember the fighting, especially in September, when the Soviet troops almost escaped our encirclement. Often, after the encirclement was broken, we would organize an even larger encirclement. There were several such encirclements and counter-encirclements.
I will never forget the scene of the Red Army cavalry division wielding sabers and hacking at our tanks. Those cloaks were really beautiful!
On September 19th, the Red Army's supreme military commanders, Budyonny and Timoshenko, along with Nikita Sergeyevich, the supreme leader of the Ukrainian Bolshevik Party, escaped Kiev by plane, leaving behind nearly a million besieged Red Army soldiers. As the attacking side, our reserves were almost exhausted. I followed a machine gun company to the front lines. The Red Army installed loudspeakers on the front lines, constantly broadcasting Stalin's voice. I later learned he was saying, "The invincible banner of Lenin protects you, Red Army soldiers, forward, forward!" Battalions of Red Army soldiers charged towards our machine gun positions with bayonets fixed. Our company lost 17 machine guns that morning alone.
The war transformed me from a doctor into a soldier.
At dusk, the battle was nearing its end, with only small groups of enemy soldiers still putting up resistance. Our company was responsible for clearing a circular defensive perimeter. Besieged was a Red Army communications company, with only about 30 female soldiers remaining, but they refused to surrender.
I had advanced to within 20 meters of them in a shell crater when we brought in heavy mortars. The mortars were very accurate; the first shot hit the center of the circle.
But then an unexpected thing happened: a leg flew out and landed on my shoulder.
You see, Miss Anne, it was September, and the Red Army female soldiers were still wearing skirts. It was a snow-white leg, all the way to the groin, with even a few pubic hairs. I stood there, frozen, until a bayonet pierced my abdomen; I felt no pain. The female soldier who stabbed me had very blue eyes, like lake water. I watched as her body was swept in two by a submachine gun.
In that battle, we annihilated over 1.1 million Soviet Red Army soldiers.
Anne: "You seem very proud!" Carlos's eyes shone, as if all his pain had vanished in an instant. "Yes, of course I'm proud. This was the largest encirclement battle in human history, and one that will never happen again. I'm honored to have been a part of the victors."
Anne smiled and stopped arguing with him. "And then?"
"Later, due to aftereffects, I injured the nerves near my spine, and I had to leave the combat unit. Ah! It was a bit hard to leave. Before the war, I only received a week of bayonet fighting, shooting, and grenade throwing training. When I left, I was already an expert in infantry small arms."
—"Isn't your main job battlefield medic?"
“Yes, yes, but I’ve had a lifelong love for weapons, and I’d tinker with them whenever I had free time, plus a bit of talent, I suppose. They promoted me to captain, and in early November, I arrived at Auschwitz concentration camp in southern Poland. My direct superior was SS Lieutenant Colonel Mengele, the medic.”
“His main task at the time was to increase the population growth rate of the Germanic people, specifically, to conduct research on multiple births. He was very pleased with my arrival. In fact, he already had a complete research plan, and he didn’t lack funding or experimental materials; the main problem was the lack of experts.
—” What did “complete plan” mean? Did “experimental materials” refer to the Jews in the concentration camp? “Yes, to successfully conduct a multiple birth program, it’s impossible without a detailed understanding of the human reproductive system, especially the female reproductive system, including sexual function, ovulation, menstruation, conception, pregnancy, childbirth, lactation, and menopause. We all needed detailed data, all of which we could only obtain through experiments, and war gave us an opportunity that would be impossible in peacetime.” "Initially, Dr. Mengele did intend to use young Jewish women, but it was later said that Himmler stopped him. How could the lowest-ranking Jewish women possess the same physiological characteristics as pure Germanic women? Later, we had to use second-ranking Slavic women, Scandinavian women, and other white women." "Were there German women, that is, Germanic women?" "
Yes, but not many. We generally didn't conduct pregnancy experiments on them, only sexual function tests." "What kind of people were chosen?" "
It's simple. First, we needed healthy experimental subjects, and second, a certain level of intelligence. Dr. Mengele had a strange theory that the intelligence of a fetus was directly influenced by the mother's intelligence. Therefore, our main experimental subjects were female prisoners of war of the Red Army, especially female officers. Others included captured resistance fighters in occupied territories and within Germany, including their wives and daughters. Their ages ranged from eleven or twelve to over fifty, encompassing all age groups, and their professions included female lawyers, female musicians, female engineers, and female university students." “Since the topic of conversation was female reproduction, Anne blushed a little: ‘Mr. Schultz, you just mentioned conducting fertility experiments on them. I’d like to know, where does the sperm that fertilizes them come from?’ ‘Oh, well, we mainly select young men aged 17-19, prisoners of war, or upper-year high school students, after they have violated wartime regulations and been arrested. Beforehand, we test their sexual function, checking for sexually transmitted diseases, impotence, and sperm quality. I remember there were two standards: one was that the length and diameter of the erect penis had to exceed the average by 30%, and the second was the ejaculation volume. Within an hour of the start of the test, we used electric shock to make them ejaculate four times, with a total ejaculation volume exceeding 20cc. Of course, later in the war, due to malnutrition, we lowered the standard, requiring only three ejaculations exceeding 15cc.’—What was the final fate of these people? ‘
Generally speaking, the sexual function of male experimental subjects deteriorates three to six months after entering the experimental stage, because we arrange for them to mate five to seven times a day.’” Once they're no longer useful, we castrate them, since they're excellent sources of testosterone. Female experimental subjects are generally used for a longer period, but we consume them in larger quantities. For example, in the conception experiment group, we arrange for 40 women to become pregnant at a time, but only five make it to the pregnancy group; the others are immediately transferred to the sexual function group after miscarriage. Of course, we also have a special group where women live longer, but once we deem them no longer useful, we send them out of the experimental area and back to the concentration camp. "—" What are the tasks of the special group? "
Oh, mainly special conception experiments, such as mother-child conception, brother-sister conception, father-daughter conception, and human-phalloid conception experiments… How about it? Miss Smith, are you frightened?" Anne could no longer hide her embarrassment, not so much because of the disgust at the experiment itself, but because she could tell the old Nazi was provoking her. Deliberately avoiding an answer, Anne continued, "Since you just said the subjects were Red Army officers and members of the resistance, would they willingly cooperate with your experiments?" "Of course not. At the beginning, we had no experience. We were just an experimental center, not a torture chamber, and all the interrogations had already been conducted in the POW camp. So, besides whips and handcuffs, we didn't even have electric batons. Initially, we had the guards discipline them. We usually picked out three to five of the highest-ranking officers, stripped them naked, handcuffed them behind their backs, and then four of our guards would slap them repeatedly. The other female prisoners were forced to watch. We usually slapped them forty times at a time, then they were gang-raped. We didn't use the gang-raped prisoners anymore; they were all sent directly to the crematorium." "—" Was it effective? "
It didn't work. The first batch of experimental subjects consisted of about 120 people, but only about 20 cooperated with our experiments. There was even a riot, and the other 90-plus were wiped out by machine guns." "Later, we found the right method. We discovered that only by completely crushing them mentally could we get them to cooperate, especially through personal humiliation, which was the most effective. Sometimes we could also use the mutual care among their comrades to subdue them." "—For example?" "Miss Smith, are you so interested in the details?" "Shameless." Anne cursed inwardly, "...Hmm! ...Yes, I said I wanted to know everything." "Well, for example, we would force them to perform some shameful actions and film them, like spreading their genitals with their fingers, all of these shots were close-ups, or we would secretly film them masturbating. Of course, we would give them aphrodisiacs beforehand. Some were individual photos, some were group photos, and then we would show these photos to them, or threaten to show them to their subordinates. Miss Anne, would you like to know more?" Anne blushed even more: "I have another question, Mr. Schultz. According to what you just said, the female subjects you selected for your experiments are all very outstanding, and especially in an environment like a concentration camp, did you have any other relationship besides that of experimenter and subject?" "You mean to ask if we had sexual relations with them, is that right?" "Yes, Mr. Schultz."
"Yes, we have a central club. Generally speaking, many of the Red Army's junior officers and other selected young women are still virgins. These women are given priority to be sent to the central club. There are also women who are not virgins but are very beautiful, but there's a rule: anyone who provides us with sexual services in the club, regardless of gender, cannot stay for more than three months. You know, people are very fragile; if you spend too much time together, feelings will develop. This was Dr. Mengele's suggestion." "You just said regardless of gender?" “
Oh, yes, there were homosexuals and bisexuals among the medics and officers in the concentration camp.
” Schulz’s face showed pain again. He pointed to morphine, and Anne handed him a vial. After injecting it, the old man became happy again: “Her name was Demiseskaya.” The old man pointed to the computer. “Her companions called her Tonya. She was one of my two favorite bed partners. The other was Veranika. They all called her Sister Vera. They were sent to the experimental center in November 1942.
They were both captured during the Battle of Stalingrad. Vera was a captain, a sniper. Before the war, she was an engineer in a factory in Leningrad. After her parents and son were killed, she enlisted in the army. Because of her excellent performance in the university shooting competition, she was ordered to become a sniper. She killed a total of 66 German soldiers, including 13 tunnel warfare experts. For this, she was awarded the Order of the Red Banner.” Her capture was entirely accidental. A building near her ambush point collapsed, and she was hit by two falling tiles, losing consciousness. When she awoke, she was our prisoner.
Tonya was a sergeant and a listening officer in Chuikov's 62nd Army's listening post. Before the war, she was a third-year student in the German Department of Moscow University. Because the listening post was located too close to the front lines and was poorly disguised, she was captured during an assault by our street warfare experts.
Vera's former factory had a lot of machinery imported from Germany, which is why she had studied there for a year. However, I thought her German was excellent. When we were together, I asked her if she had been raped in the POW camp. She said no. Tonya was a virgin during her physical exam, so she definitely hadn't been raped, but Vera's case couldn't be confirmed. I asked Tonya, and she also said Vera hadn't been raped. They were captured in the summer, fifty people crammed into one room, it was worse than a pigsty, and the guards kept their distance. "—" Could you describe the details of the events from the first time I saw them to the last? "It was early November. I was on duty that day. Two trucks brought them, along with forty other women, to the center. There were 32 Red Army soldiers, the rest were Polish and Yugoslavs. Vera was quite tall and was near the front. When I walked past them, everyone lowered their heads, except her. She had black hair, a very beautiful face, and a quiet fearlessness." Tonya was also in line, but I was completely captivated by Vera and didn't pay her any attention.
The 42 women were divided into six groups for medical examinations. Vera and Tonya were in the first group, meaning they were under my control. Without exception, they were handcuffed, taken to solitary rooms, and subjected to the humiliation of medical examinations and photographs. Vera was the third. As she was led into the solitary room for her examination, the woman before her had just been taken to the adjacent photo booth, and she saw the woman's naked back. The guard twisted her hands behind the blanket. She glanced at the boots lying on the floor in the corner and the two torn military uniforms, and calmly said to me, "I'll take them off myself…" She looked at me again, "I'll take them off myself," and I nodded as if possessed.
The examination room wasn't large, and two bright lights were placed in it for close-up shots. Vera slightly turned her body as she undressed. After all, exposing oneself to three strange men was no easy task. She then stood naked in front of a wall with markings indicating her height was 1.68 meters. She was in her thirties, the prime of a woman's life. Except for her slightly thin upper body due to malnutrition, her hips, breasts, and feet all displayed the beauty of a mature female. Her slightly sagging breasts and wide hips suggested she had given birth. She lacked the fear and embarrassment of the previous two women; her arms rested calmly at her sides. The photographer, the guard, and I were all stunned. "—" Was she really that beautiful? Do you have any photos of her? "No, we destroyed all the photos later. We were only awakened by a woman's scream coming from the next photography room. Carl took two full-body frontal nude photos, then ordered her to turn to the left and right for side profile shots. The
next steps were to weigh her, take her blood pressure, do blood tests, and measure other parts of her body. Then I ordered her to lie on the gynecological operating table." As the support holding her legs apart, her most precious private parts were exposed. Carl aimed the light at her inner thighs, and we raised the support so her anus was also exposed. When he pressed the shutter, Carl deliberately included her face in the shot.
Because of the raised support, her legs were also sticking up high. At that moment, I smelled a mixture of dead fish and rotten fruit, the smell coming from her feet. Her blackened soles had scabs from healed blisters, but there were still two or three festering blisters. I always knew that prisoners of war were treated badly, but I never imagined it would be like this. I almost vomited and quickly put on a mask.
I saw that she, who had insisted on pretending to be indifferent while having her genitals photographed, suddenly turned red and then turned her head to the side. This was typical of educated women; sometimes they would rather be raped than show their ugly side to others.
At this point, Carl also stopped taking pictures. He shouted, "God, her vagina is too smelly, I can't stand it." "It was then that I realized her underwear was so dirty it could stand upright on the ground, like it was made of cardboard.
Actually, the first two female prisoners we examined had been captured less than two weeks prior, while she had been there for over two months, especially since it was summer. I later used this to tease her and Tonya.
To continue the work, I had to wipe her feet and genitals with alcohol swabs. Like all the female prisoners, she had fingernail scratches on her vulva, a result of itching. Her pubic hair was normal in color and thickness, but dried vaginal secretions had clumped it together.
Then, I used instruments to open her vagina, and as I expected, there was excessive vaginal discharge. This was a result of poor hygiene.
The following examinations were purely designed to humiliate the female prisoners. We used special dilators to measure the limits of her vaginal, anal, navel, oral, and nasal cavities. These dilators were not cleaned during the measurement process, and when inserted into her mouth, they often contained the prisoner's own feces."
Vera endured the pain except for two cries during the anal dilation. We then removed her from the operating table.
After Carl was switched to the camera, we ordered her to squat on a tiled platform, about waist-high, and placed a large glass under her buttocks. The lights and camera were pointed at her lower body. We told her this was for a urine test; two other containers of urine were placed in front of her. She knew she had no other choice, but after struggling for a minute, urine finally overcame her shame and flowed from her urethra.
Perhaps unaware that her back was already drenched in sweat, the container overflowing with urine—the bottom half a thick yellow liquid, the top half foamy, like the finest German beer.
At this point, an even greater humiliation was inflicted upon her: we ordered her to defecate in front of the camera. She stood up and cursed us as beasts. We then brought in a naked male prisoner whose genitals were ulcerated. We told Vera that this was late-stage syphilis, and if she didn't do as we said, we would force them to have sex.
A few seconds later, Vera squatted down again, positioning her anus and vagina towards the camera. She wriggled her anus in shame. Three minutes later, the camera began recording the entire process of her anus contracting and the emergence of dark brown feces from her anus. Because Vera hadn't defecated for two days, the feces were dry and thick. Vera kept taking deep breaths, but the feces were still stuck at her anus.
I opened a bottle with a small spoon on the cap, quickly scooped out a small piece of the feces, put it in the bottle, and then signaled to Vera that she could stand up and finish.
At this moment, the hard, dry feces were stuck at Vera's anus. I ordered her to stop now. It was even more embarrassing than making her defecate earlier. She could no longer maintain her noble dignity. She covered her face with her hands, tears sliding down her cheeks, but she still didn't cry out. She wanted to squat there, but I gestured to Fritz to pull her up by the shoulders. To preserve her last shred of dignity, Vera did something none of us expected: she used her thumb to push the protruding clump of feces back into her anus.
Karl faithfully carried out his recording duties, photographing Vera's excretory organs and facial expressions, including film reels and close-ups.
I knew that the humiliation the female prisoner suffered during the physical examination was like heaven compared to what she would endure in the photography room later. Vera was, in any case, the strongest woman I had ever met, and I was particularly curious about her experience in the photography team. So I took one last measurement: the diameter of her nipples, with Fritz assisting me.
We played with Vera's nipples; I remember her nipples were 1.7 centimeters in diameter when flaccid and 2.1 centimeters when erect—both very large.
Throughout the entire physical examination, we didn't handcuff or shackle her; she kept her hands at her sides, enduring our humiliation.
She was then taken naked to the next photography room, and Karl, Volitz, and I followed. The young men in the photography team gave her a minute and a half to take a shower, and then gave her a small makeup kit to put on lipstick. Because of her shame, her face was already very red, so she didn't need to put on makeup.
There was a double mattress on the floor, with a large pillow on it. We used two cameras and one video camera in total. Then we ordered her to pose in various positions, such as holding her breasts with both hands, spreading her legs, inserting her fingers into her vagina, and sometimes we ordered her to thrust rapidly in and out repeatedly. We also ordered her to spread her vulva with both hands to expose the tender flesh inside. What humiliated her the most was that we made her insert her right middle finger into her anus and then lick it clean. Her whole face was distorted with shame, and tears streamed down her face, her chest covered in her clear snot. The filming room also had some special equipment that we designed ourselves. For example, we had a nipple cuff that could cuff a person's two nipples together, or cuff two female prisoners face to face, or cuff a group of female prisoners in a string or a ring. I remember making her bend her left leg, then pressing her body down, and cuffing her left little toe to her right nipple. Of course, these were all solo photos. Then we added the first two female prisoners, making them lie head-to-toe on the mattress, licking each other's toes, and even biting off their long-untrimmed toenails. "Anne was so shocked she couldn't speak. She wanted to tell this old Nazi that the methods they used over fifty years ago were still being used in the Brazilian jungle." "So, why did you choose Tonya?" "Because she was clean, she was young. I still can't explain how a girl could be so clean after two months without bathing." "What was she like during her physical exam?" "She resisted fiercely and even kicked me. We had to use handcuffs and shackles to complete the exam and the photoshoot.
When they left the studio, they were all in varying degrees of mental instability. One of the Yugoslavian partisans in the second group went insane. They were then led naked into a large hall with glass walls, where we made them run and squat jump naked, regrouping them based on their running posture and the movement of their breasts. Next, we handcuffed and shackled them again and made them kneel." At this moment, the hall door opened and three naked male prisoners entered. They were young and handsome. Three mattresses were placed in the center of the hall. Then, three female officers in Soviet uniforms were brought in—two majors and one captain. They stood behind the mattresses and began to announce their names, ranks, and unit numbers one by one. Afterward, they stripped off all their uniforms, leaving only their boots. At this point, despair appeared in the eyes of the kneeling female prisoners. The appearance of the three female officers and their fluent Russian indicated that they were indeed female officers of the Red Army, and this despair was exactly what we needed.
Then, the three female officers began to masturbate in front of their comrades. At this point, some of the kneeling female prisoners began to stir. The young men of the guard platoon hit them a few times with the butts of their rifles, and they immediately quieted down. The only sounds in the hall were the sounds of thrusting and the cries of the female prisoners.
After the three women reached their first orgasm, the male prisoners lying in front of them couldn't help but get erections. I told them, "Three minutes, twice," meaning the three female prisoners had to do everything they could to make the male prisoners in front of them ejaculate twice within three minutes.
The three female prisoners immediately and recklessly straddled the male prisoners, inserted their penises into their vaginas, and began to move their bodies. Fortunately, all the male prisoners ejaculated for the first time within forty-five seconds. After the first ejaculation, the three female prisoners used different methods: one used her mouth, one her hand, and one even used her anus—this was, of course, our rule. The first one to complete it had three choices, while the last one had to perform anal sex.
Three minutes were up. The one who used his mouth completed the task within the allotted time, and we castrated him on the spot in front of all the female prisoners. Two lit light bulbs were inserted into the vaginas of the two female prisoners who hadn't completed their tasks, and then we heard their loud screams
. The psychological intimidation in the hall ended, and the virgins were gathered together. I called Vera out as well. I marked Vera and Tonya's upper right buttocks with a marker, even though they belonged to everyone, comrades are generally considerate of each other. Because we had to wait for the test results, and because they needed time to recover, I wouldn't be able to use them for another week.
During that week, we mainly focused on their physical recovery training, providing them with good food and hygiene. But the psychological trauma continued. We made them wear only boots and military caps, and issued each of them a standard Soviet rifle, forcing them to practice drills naked. It was a Saturday night when I led them to my room. They were already naked, their hands cuffed behind their backs. There was fruit and wine on the small dining table, and music was playing from a gramophone. Vera knew what was about to happen and said to me, "Can we do it one at a time?" Her eyes pleaded; she didn't want Tonya to see her being raped, nor could she bear to see Tonya lose her virginity. I refused her. I tied her to the bed face up, her legs spread 180 degrees along the edge of the bed. Then I made Tonya lie on top of her, her legs spread in the same way. Nipples were handcuffed together, deforming their breasts. Their vulvas were very close together. I ordered them to kiss and make noises. Then I raped them both.
For the next three months, they belonged solely to me. Because of my success at work, no one competed with me for them. Vera never spoke to me first. If I asked her a question, she would answer, but never say a word more than necessary. She never laughed, nor did she cry. When she couldn't bear it anymore, she would turn her face away and silently weep. When I wasn't around, she would quietly sing a few Russian songs; they were very beautiful. What she found most unbearable was that she would sometimes experience orgasm during her rapes. At these times, she would moan uncontrollably, and clear fluid would gush from her vagina. However, this didn't happen every time we had sex. She felt ashamed of having orgasms. Furthermore, ordering her and Tonya to perform same-sex intercourse in front of me was like entering hell for her.
Tonya's personality was the opposite of hers; she would fiercely resist. At first, I would hang her in extremely unbearable positions. Once, I even raped her anus, but she still resisted relentlessly, kneeing me more than ten times. Later, I stopped punishing her and instead tortured Vera in front of her. Once, Vera was menstruating, and I put a piece of bread into Vera's vagina and made her eat the bread soaked in menstrual blood. After that, Tonya resisted much less, but she would still sometimes go against me. For example, she would replace the sugar in the sugar bottle with salt, and sometimes I would accidentally drink a sip of salty coffee. At these times, I usually didn't get angry; instead, I liked her even more.
Soon the three-month period was up. I didn't want them to become the kind of "female beasts" in the breeding station; the thought of male prisoners dominating them made me unhappy.
I assigned Tonya to the sexual function testing group. She belonged to the third group, mainly testing the effects of sustained orgasms on physical fitness and sexual function.
Their group consisted of six female prisoners. Two received normal sexual stimulation, meaning they engaged in continuous normal male-female intercourse, 30 to 60 times a day each. The other two used devices for masturbation, such as vibrators or low-flow electric shock devices. The remaining two masturbated purely manually. Tonya was one of the last two. She accumulated almost six hours of masturbation each day, experiencing over 100 orgasms. As a result, in less than two months, she aged almost ten years, and apart from manual orgasms and strong electric shocks, no other method could produce an orgasm for her. As for Vera, I assigned her to a special observation group. There were six people in her group: one 10 years old, one 26, Vera herself 32, a 44-year-old Polish pianist, a 57-year-old primary school teacher, and a 62-year-old university professor. They would all be assigned to have sex with a male prisoner of the French Resistance. We would observe the effect of maternal age on infant health. Although two of them were quite old, they both regained menstruation thanks to our advanced technology. This way, Vera wouldn't have to have sex with so many people simultaneously. Due to Tonya's rapid aging, we no longer needed her after obtaining the data; she would be sent to the crematorium. To save her, I transferred her to my special group. However, death might be more bearable for her. "—" What did you do to her?
"I performed the sex reassignment surgery on her. After the surgery, I kept her in a coma until the wounds were completely healed. When she woke up and found this large lump between her thighs, she was almost driven to a mental breakdown. Two months after the surgery, she was finally able to have an erection; the genitals belonged to a Dutch university student. We used medication to concentrate male hormones near her genitals, while simultaneously injecting female hormones into other parts of her body so that her body could regain its former suppleness. Her genitals were completely transplanted into the Dutch university student's body. I then arranged for them to have sexual relations until the student became pregnant. Vera's situation was also not good; after six months..." She had miscarried twice, a harbinger of her being sent to the crematorium. I transferred her here as well. When the two women reunited six months later, they embraced and wept bitterly.
In the lab, they undressed, and Tonya exposed her male genitalia. I ordered them to have sex, but Tonya resolutely refused. I shocked her nipples with a powerful stun gun, but she still resisted. I then shocked Vera's soles, nasal cavity, and armpits. Tonya still refused. Usually, I could make Vera submit by torturing her, but this time she wouldn't agree no matter what, shouting, "Shoot me! Our comrades will avenge us! You fascists will be hanged one day!" I had no other choice but to tie her to the bed and inject one milligram of dilute hydrochloric acid into her scrotum. Tonya screamed in agony. Vera climbed onto the bed, crying, and hugged Tonya tightly… Once there was a first time, there would be a second. By the fifth time, I no longer needed to tie Tonya up. She pressed Vera beneath her, swaying her hips and thrusting into Vera's vagina. Forty days later, Vera became pregnant with twins, two daughters. At the end
of 1944, the Red Army approached the Polish border. I used my authority, and also took advantage of the chaos, to let them escape. I gave each of them 50 gold coins, a watch, stockings, and cigarettes. At that time, paper money had no value. I never saw them again.”
Schulz was immersed in his past memories: “How did you find her? What about Vera?”
—“Tonya married that Dutch university student. Of course, they had reconstructive surgery in Paris.” She died two years ago. Vera was a party member, firmly believing in her ideals. After the war, she returned to the Soviet Union, was detained for three months in 1946, re-arrested in 1950, and executed in Siberia in 1952 for being a traitor to the motherland and an enemy of the people. A tear suddenly fell from Schultz's eye. "Could I get another injection?"
Anne stepped forward, and just then she noticed a dark gun barrel pointed at her. "You know, Anne, sometimes memories make things clearer. You're not a writer at all. You should be the third? Or the fourth generation? Your eyes look exactly like Vera's. Where is Mengele?"
Anne held up her hands, not daring to move. "Yes, I should be considered the fourth generation. Anne Smith is my real name, and I'm also a PhD in genetics. His Majesty Mengele is in Brazil now." "His Majesty?" "
His Majesty the Emperor of the Free Kingdom of the Third Planet."
Schultz looked bewildered. Anne continued, "After more than 50 years of effort, we have been able to create new humans who are superior to ordinary humans in both physical and intellectual abilities. We already control 10 percent of the world's white governments. We are currently creating superior yellow and black people, and we also have a plan to create a super race that combines the advantages of all races." "
You want to control the world? Short, ugly yellow people? Is it necessary to create them? Where are the experimental subjects?"
"Yes, we do want to control the world, but this is to save humanity, not enslave humanity. Future humans should be stronger than current humans in every way."
"Since the 1950s, we've had special channels to obtain Asian women. We got experimental subjects during the Korean War, the Vietnam War, and later the Sino-Vietnamese War. And their height has been steadily increasing. For example, during the Korean War, we obtained four female prisoners of war, with an average height of 1.56 meters. By the 1990s, we had obtained 16 female anti-drug agents, with an average height of 1.71 meters. They have delicate skin, high intelligence, and are hardworking. If we're talking about advantages, they have more than Caucasian women."
"I'm already a dying man, what's the point of telling me all this?"
"Cancer may be incurable for others, but for us… Mr. Schultz, may I put my hand down?"
"Yes, but slowly."
"We completely solved cancer in 1990, and we discovered that cancer is actually a key to extending human lifespan tenfold." "His Majesty greatly needs your wisdom. We only recently learned of your whereabouts. If you wish, I can arrange your funeral tomorrow, and you can arrive at His Majesty's palace in Brazil in 72 hours."
Having struggled for more than half a year at the end of his life, Schultz had long since seen through life. A loathing for a life of suffering and a yearning for the unknown struggled within him. Five minutes later, he raised his head: "Unless you grant me one condition."
—"You say."
"There are two people. If they join me, I can go with you. One is named Carlos Sandro. He's a paleontologist and botanist."
—"Is he the great man who published 'The Brontosaurus and the Violet'?"
"Yes."
—"And the other is—?" "
When a woman steps on its head, it bites her heel."
—"I know who you're talking about."
Anne handed Schultz a box of medicine: "Mr. Schultz, I will find them as soon as possible. Please take the medicine according to the instructions." Schultz smiled and nodded. "
Annie, if you haven't found them, or if they're unwilling to come, then the new race project is over. If they're willing to participate, then this memory is just the beginning."
—"I understand, Mr. Schultz."
[The End]

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