“He gets around,” Dr. Braunshnout shrugged. “Funny, though, how he alvays has a Police Gazette reporter with him. Do you suppose Goebels could have arranged it? For propaganda purposes, I mean?”
“What difference?” Gall shrugged. “Like all great leaders, like myself, he was surrounded by idiots. I am weary of you now. Of all of you. Leave me. I wish to be alone with our guest.”
They obeyed, filing out of the room. When he was alone with Penny, Gall turned to her with a gleam in his eyes. “I have plans of domination for you, my dear,” he said mysteriously. “Sexual domination. But wait. You shall see. First I must relax. I must relax all my muscles.” He knelt down on all fours in the center of the room. “Bring that over here,” he said to Penny, indicating a large globe of the world standing opposite her.
She hefted the globe and found it quite heavy. The effort of bringing it over to him left her panting.
“Now, put it on my back, between my shoulders,” Gall instructed.
Penny did as she was told.
Gall raised his hands so that his weight was on his feet and his arms were dangling in front of him. The globe rested between his shoulders as he performed a series of exercises in this position. He was quite adept and managed to keep the globe in balance despite his movements.
“That’s very good,” Penny remarked.
“It’s symbolic,” Gall told her. “Notice how I carry the weight of the World on my solders whilst I obtain the gratification of physical exercise.”
“It’s remarkable. Doesn’t the weight bother you?”
“Not at all,” Gall shrugged. He shouldn’t have shrugged. The globe tumbled from his shoulders and smashed into several fragments on the hard rock floor. “Damn! I lose more damn worlds that way!” Gall told Penny ruefully. “Well, no matter. Now it is time for me to indoctrinate you, anyway.” He approached her ominously.
“What are you going to do to me?” The frightened young girl shrank away from him. ,
“I am a man and you are a woman. I am going to take you. By force! It’s the only way. It’s the way I take all my women. It’s part of the philosophy of GRABB. The most delightful part.”
“You mean you’re going to rape me?” Penny sounded relieved.
“Brutally!” Gall assured her. “Savagely, as a man should take a weak Woman.”
“Oh, goody!” Penny squealed, allowing Scarlett’s mink to part so that her quivering ivory breasts with their quivering bright red tips were quiveringly revealed.
“You mean you don’t mind?” Gall paused.
“Oh, no!”
“You want to be raped?”
“Oh, yes. But please, won’t you hurry it up?”
“Wait a minute! Wait a minute!” Gall’s face was dark as a thundercloud. “You actually want me to rape you? That’s what you’re saying. Damn! Then I can’t do it, of course.”
“But why not?”
“I never have sex with a woman who’s willing. It would go against everything GRABB stands for.”
“But please! I’m begging you. I want sex so bad it hurts.”
“Well, that’s something,” Gall sighed. “If not having sex with you makes you feel pain, then my course is clear. I must dominate you with non-sex. Do you really feel pain?”
“It’s subsiding.” Penny pouted.
“That’s too bad. But, wait! I have an idea.” He strode over to Penny and slipped the riding crop from her wrist.
Penny, who had forgotten it was even there, watched him curiously. “Now what?” she asked.
“Stand up,” he said. “Ah,” he looked at the riding boots she had on, “that is good. Better if they had high heels, but no matter. Take off your coat.”
Penny obeyed quickly. “Have you changed your mind?” she asked hopefully.
“Not at all. I am going to whip you, that is all.”
“Oh, no!” Penny pulled her coat back on and backed away from him.
“But why not? After that, I might even rape you. If only it didn’t give you too much pleasure. You see, pleasure has to be paid for with pain. That’s a platform in GRABB’s constitution. If you want to join us, you must realize that everything in life has its price and the price must be met.”
“Then I don’t want to join you,” Penny said firmly.
“Nonsense. You don’t know what you’re missing. Here, let me show you.” Gall stripped off his buckskin shirt, handed her the riding crop and knelt in front of her. “You whip me. Go ahead.”
“I don’t want to.”
“If you don’t, I shall call Pungent and have him whip you. Go on, now.”
Reluctantly, Penny raised the riding crop and brought it down on Gall’s bare shoulders.
“Harder!” he ordered.
Penny struck him harder.
“Again!”
She hit him again. And again. Harder each time. Soon she found herself caught up in what she was doing. She broke the skin on Gall’s back, and the stripe of blood incensed her so that she beat him even more energetically. She stood over him like an Amazon, the mink jacket flying out behind her, a statuesque nude figure in boots, breasts straining with her exertions, nostrils aquiver, hips and belly undulating with a strange, sadistic, sensual pleasure at the punishment she was inflicting on the man before her.
Gall lowered his buckskin pants and indicated that he wanted Penny to whip him on his bared buttocks. She complied, and the sight of his aroused manhood when she attacked this portion of his anatomy in turn aroused Penny to even greater heights of sadism. She slid quickly around in front of him and before he could protect himself, she had delivered a series of blows on this most vulnerable member.
“OWEE!” Gall screamed. He sprang to his feet and wrenched the rising crop from her hands. He tore the mink jacket from her body and tried to strike her. But Penny was too agile for him. She got the couch between them and kept it between them as they circled.
“No,” she said. “I don’t want to be beaten.”
“All right.” Gall paused. “Then we’ll do it the hard way. Pungent!” he called. “Pungent, get the whip and come in here!”
The giant Sikh came through the door. In the crook of one arm nestled a wicked-looking cat-o’-nine-tails, its lash curled and waiting.
“Grab her,” Gall ordered.
Caught between the two-of them now, Penny was captured with ease.
“I’ll hold her,” Gall told Pungent. “You give her thirty lashes.”
Penny felt herself grasped firmly and bent over the back of the couch. Pungent moved around behind her and raised the whip. A second later the lash whistled through the air sliced into the plump roundness of one of Penny’s plumply round buttocks.
Penny screamed aloud. It was like the slash of a red-hot razor. “No! Please!” she begged.
To no avail. The whip came down again and a rivulet of blood spread over the creamy white surface of the trembling, creamy white orbs.
The pain made Penny scream again. It hurt something fierce. And yet the darling girl couldn’t help feeling the sexual excitement of it too. Thus was she trapped between the agony of the whip and her own uncontrollable lust.
Pain. Terror. Lust. What else had Fate in store for Penny?
CHAPTER SEVEN
IT was just after the moment that Penny admitted to herself that sexual masochism has its points that the door to the room was flung violently open. Dr. Werner Braunshnout stood there with a rare, hand-carved British Mauser held firmly in his hand. But it was a much transformed Dr. Braunshnout. The little Charlie Chaplin moustache was gone. His bangs were combed back into a sleek pompadour. He stood erect and tall and the single-breasted midnight-blue cashmere suit he was wearing was a testimonial to the excellent tailoring in which he indulged himself. He was the very picture of self-assured suavity.
“Unhand that gal, Gall,” he drawled in cultured, upper-class Welsh tones. “And you drop the whip while there’s still time to spare the ribs, Pungent,” he instructed.