Petra boiled with humiliation as she desperately struggled, but Rolf had tied her up too well. She squealed. The napkin that British bitch Deverux had stuffed into her mouth was getting soggy and vile.
Lucille peered through her monocular and studied the bombers arranged over the Luftwaffe airfield as she pulled at Petra's uniform and adjusted the buttons. She smiled and smoothed back her short, dark hair.
"Beautiful view up here. They'll start taking off in about 20 minutes," Lucille estimated. "Perfect. Oh, and thanks so much for the uniform, Petra dear!"
"Mmmph!" Petra protested. The rattan chair Rolf had tied the lovely blond to creaked and popped as she squirmed.
"Oh, hush! At least you weren't chloroformed," Lucille chided. "I came up here ready to chloroform you and steal your uniform, but instead I find you all tied up and your uniform hanging on a rack! Awfully considerate of you!"
"Y' bit...Yu nebber edscop!" Petra grunted.
"All I had to do was gag that bitchy mouth of yours," Lucille remarked. "Oh, lovely knickers, Petra. Herr Kurzweil likes his ladies in black lingerie. I ought to know. He bought you those lovely shoes in Italy, didn't he?"
"Mmmp?!"
Lucille glanced at the Enigma machine waiting on a nearby desk. "Yes, the latest cogs...very nice...ah, they're revving their engines. There goes the first bomber..."
"Hep!" Petra squealed, almost falling over.
"You don't always need explosives to sabotage something, Petra dear. Changing coordinates will do the job. Those bombers should fly about 30 minutes or so before the crews realize that they're in the middle of nowhere. By then, Monty's columns will be well out of range. I ordered your pilots to maintain radio silence, too. That should cock up their mission."
Petra tried to look at the insufferable British bitch behind her. Oh, her and Deverux would be the same size!
Lucille glanced at the wine and waiting goblets. "All set for a romantic little game, weren't you? You and Rolf? He ordered you to strip down, and then he tied you up. Then he left you to wonder when he would return and start interrogating you. The anticipation must have been delicious."
Petra growled obscenities. Lucille laughed. "Remember that charming little cottage I had near Dunkirk before the war? One evening, Rolf came over and ordered me into the lovely new knickers and shoes he bought for me in Paris, tied me to a chair and, oh yes, interrogated me." Lucille sighed happily. "He has such wonderful hands, don't you think?"
"Mppp!" Petra squealed.
"And that wasn't our first game of cops and robbers! One day he grabbed me quite unexpectedly and took me for a drive in the country," Lucille merrily recalled. "A French copper pulled us over, and Rolf had to do some fast talking. Anything wrong, monsieur? What? Oh, that girl tied up in the back seat? Let me explain. And he actually talked his way out of it, believe it or not! Rolf's so clever sometimes."
"Mmp! Mmpa!" Petra shrieked.
"Rolf will probably leave you tied up whilst he figures out what happened," Lucille predicted as she finished dressing. "Well, I must be off! Do give Rolf my love!"
story by
scorpionlover42.deviantart.com…