The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

In true military fashion, the MP’s lined up the prisoners and searched them for weapons and anything of military interest. Although being British Military Police, they refrained from stealing small items of value.

There were just four more female prisoners, three in uniform and one, a stern looking brunette, dressed in ark professional-looking civilian clothes. When the Sergeant signalled that it was safe to approach, Lieutenant Weaver escorted her colonel over to begin questioning them. Virginia Howard recognised one of uniforms as being that of another Red Cross nurse but the other two were new to her.

Odd, why have they separated the pair in the lighter grey uniforms? The colonel wondered. As she got closer she recognised that they had diamond-shaped SS badges on the breast pockets of their single-breasted uniform jackets. Obviously the MP’s distrust of the SS also extended to its female auxiliaries.

The women looked scared all except for the brunette who wore civilian clothes—she looked more annoyed than anything. “Find out who she is.” Ordered Howard.

Weaver gave one of her cold, ghostly smiles and rattled of a a string of German phrases at machine-gun speed.

The woman looked stunned then gave Weaver an equally cold smile before enquiring. “Sie sind Deutsch?”—You are German?

“Am I fuck!” The Lieutenant retorted sounding more amused than annoyed.

The German woman gave her a puzzled look but continued in English. “But you have a Berliner’s accent—Sankt Pauli unless I am mistaken.”

The Military Police Sergeant chose that moment to step forward and interrupt. “If you don’t mind, Ma’am, I’ll leave one man on guard while the rest of us do a more thorough check of the building.” He glanced across at the two girls in SS uniforms. “I’ve got a nasty feeling about this place now that I know they’re involved.”

Lieutenant-Colonel Howard nodded her assent and waited for the sergeant to leave before beginning to question the woman herself.

“I take it that you are Elsa Bergen?” She asked recalling the name that the first nurse had given them.

“Doktor Elsa Bergen at your service, Frau Oberstleutnant!” The woman answered, professional pride causing her to emphasise her title.

Howard nodded and then demanded. “Why are there SS here if this is a red cross establishment?”

The doctor glared for a moment. “This is a Lebensborn research facility and that is an SS... ” She searched for a word... “Program. They’re here as administrators, that’s all. Those two are secretaries, they are not important.”

Before Virginia Howard could continue, Lieutenant Weaver interrupted. “Just five of you in a place this size? Where’s everyone else?”

Doctor Bergen gave her a dirty look. “Evacuated! We would have been gone in another twenty minutes if you Britishers hadn’t arrived! There is just us and the boy guarding the gate.” She shrugged. “We were packing the last of the research records for transit.”

Bingo! Thought Howard. Now to find out exactly what they are up to.

Much to her surprise the German women were very cooperative, possibly the presence of Military Police NCO was making them nervous, Howard didn’t know why. But by the time that the sergeant returned from his search, she had a pretty good idea as to what had happened here.

Half an hour later both herself and Weaver were standing in Bergen’s office, where much to her surprise, the Doctor had explained the function of the Institute.

“Let me get this straight,” Howard stated by way of a recap, “you are concerned with treatment of premature babies, yes?”

The Doctor gave her a perfunctory nod. “That is what I said and breast milk is the key to this which is why we are engaged in research into its production. You have the scientific training to understand what we are doing?”

Howard nodded. “I have a PhD in Biology—physiology to be precise.”

“Ach!” Bergen exclaimed. “Frau Oberstleutnant Doktor Howard: das ist gut!”

“Why is it ‘good’?” Virginia asked, mainly for want of something to say.

“Because you will be able to follow what I am saying and understand what we are doing here.”

Suddenly Weaver interrupted. “Hold on. What do you mean when you say that you are engaged in the production of breast milk? Are you making it or something?”

Bergen looked as if she had been slapped. “I was speaking to your colonel, lieutenant. How dare you interrupt?”

Howard froze. “I was wondering that myself, so kindly answer Lieutenant Weaver’s question.” She instructed in a slow, quiet voice voice.

Doctor Began gave them both an icy stare. “I have nothing more to say.”

Howard and Weaver exchanged glances then the colonel nodded. Weaver’s face suddenly split into one of her menacing grins. “Look, love, either you talk to us now or you’ll be talking to the war crimes investigators tomorrow. Those lads outside are military police, not boy scouts. How long do you think it would take them to work out that you are up to no good? Coppers aren’t stupid and they understand crime.”

Bergen suddenly looked frightened. “It would be easy to misunderstand what we are doing here.”

“Try me!” Virginia said quietly.

Elsa Bergen seemed to slump in on herself as she sank onto one of the wooden chairs that were located in front of what, until recently, had been her desk. “We were just planning wet-nursing on a large scale—nothing more.”

“You were milking the women, weren’t you?” Weaver stated evenly.

Bergen looked surprised but then nodded slowly.

“Concentration camp prisoners?” Weaver asked.

Bergen nodded again. “But they were well fed and well cared for.” She added by way of what she hoped was an explanation.

“I’m very relieved to hear it.” The lieutenant said dryly.

“Women only produce milk of suitable quality and quantity if they are properly looked after and not stressed.” Bergen was almost gabbling at this point.

“Where are these women now?” Howard demanded.

Bergen shrugged. “I don’t know. The SS took them away when my Institut was closed down. I’m not SS—they don’t let women join.”

Howard glanced at Weaver who said. “That’s true, Ma’am. The Nazi’s don’t believe that women are as good as men—bastards!” Weaver then pointed to a black, red and white swastika badge pinned to the woman’s lapel. “She is a party member, however.”

Dr Bergen shrugged removed the black, red and white swastika badge and tossed it over to Howard. “A souvenir for you, Fräulein Oberstleutnant, it means nothing to me. Party membership is necessary for anyone who wants to advance themselves in my country.”

Virginia Howard seated herself on another of the wooden chairs and leaned closer to Elsa Bergen. “Tell me a bit about your methods.”

Then, while Weaver poked around the desk, Howard listened to the German doctor’s story.

When she had finished she tried to meet Virginia’s gaze but found that she couldn’t. “We did it for the best of motives: I just wanted to save babies’ lives!” She sobbed theatrically.

“The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.” Weaver quoted without looking up from her search.

Virginia reached across and place her arm on the woman’s shoulder. “How would you like to continue your work in England?”

“What? Work for the British war effort?” Bergen scoffed. “You are my country’s enemy.”

Howard gave Elsa Bergen an annoyed look but whatever she was about to say was interrupted when Weaver muttered. “Krieg ist schieß!”—War is shit.

When the other women looked up at her she just shrugged before continuing to rootle through the paperwork on the desk muttering. “Fucking war’s all but over and good job too!” As she did so.

“With in a couple of weeks there’ll be no war effort for either of us to work for.” The colonel said quietly. “I’m asking you to come and help save more babies’ lives. That’s what you say you are were planing on doing isn’t it?”

Dr Bergen gave her a perfunctory nod. “That... Is what we do here, yes.”

It took a little under an hour to load everything up into the two German ambulances ‘everything’ included several large metal containers packed with drugs removed from the institutes pharmacy: Bergen had supervised the packing of the containers in person while Weaver had checked that no weapons or explosives were included. After a snatched meal the small convoy begin the drive back towards the rear area where the Military Police handed them over to divisional staff.

Howard produced her letter once more and used it to bemuse the divisional commander. “Look, Colonel,” the Major-General had said, “this is highly irregular. I can’t just send you and your prisoners back despite what it says in that letter. I just don’t have the authority.”

“Sir!” Howard had snapped. “May I request that you get authority? There are verification details on the foot of the letter, all you need to do is to send a signal.”

The General glared at her, he wasn’t used to being spoken to in that way by a mere lieutenant-colonel and a female one at that. He shouted for his signals officer who scurried in, listened and scurried out again with instructions to send the signal as ‘flash’—the highest priority.

It took Lieutenant Weaver about an hour to organise a meal for her party and for the prisoners and to get the jeep and ambulances refuelled. The task was barely completed when a staff officer came looking for her and thrust a wad of documents into her hand. “The General says that these will give you clearance as far as the channel coast. He suggests Antwerp and says good luck and God speed. I don’t know what the hell your Colonel said to him but I’ve never seen him move so fast!”

The rest of the journey proceeded in a similar manner with drivers and an escort being provided for the two captured German ambulances as they were passed back from unit to unit. By the end of the second day they were in Antwerp where, by now, the damaged port facilities were more or less functioning. Although if it hadn’t been for Virginia’s ‘magic letter’, they might well have been stuck there. After a couple of arguments with senior officers, the three vehicles were grudgingly loaded onto a tank landing ship that was returning to England with a cargo of damaged equipment.

It was an overnight crossing which Lieutenant Weaver celebrated by getting drunk and making advances on one of the German nurses who didn’t seem to object to the attention. As dawn broke they were in sight of Southampton and home.