The Dominafuhrer - THE GODMOTHER

Episode 70 - Just Desserts For Juanita

Norfolk, November 1956

“You slept with an English Spy?” I asked accusingly.

“Excuse me, “Miss Spiteful sniffed,”but I seem to have forgotten which regiment of the German Army that Herr Major McNair served in.”

Suitably chastened, I looked at the big brass clock and sighed. There was only a couple of hours until what passed for dawn in this God forsaken, rain soaked county and there was barely a glass each left in the third bottle of wine. We were both quite drunk and Miss Spiteful was passing through one of her weepy phases, usually about once every bottle. During her description of her night of passion with Forbes, which was lot a more graphic than my version above, she had sobbed and the tears had rolled down her cheeks.

She was silent for a little while, nearly twenty years and two hundred kilometres away from our time and place, before looking up and giving me a sad smile.

“You have not masturbated for a while Storm, have I lost my attraction?”

“No mistress,” I shook my head. “I’m just very tired now.”

Miss Spiteful sniffed again and sipped at her glass. “Oh dear, well I’ve almost finished. This wine is very good. Is there any more?”

“Not without going downstairs and breaking into the win cellar,” I lied boldly, determined that she should not have the one remaining bottle that I had stolen for Kelly and me.

“Ach, wie schrecklich! Never mind, where was I? Oh yes, it all went nearly to plan after that. Finch-Wardle was arrested red-handed with all his drugs and, when he found out that these Policemen were not going to be bribed, almost fell over himself to accept the deal that Forbes offered him. He wrote out a confession, naming his suppliers and his distributors, agreed to acknowledge Sugar’s baby as his and to set up and contribute to a trust fund for her. What we had not counted on was the Luftwaffe dropping a bomb on him and with two of the fund’s trustees, Forbes and me, out of the country the other trustee, his lawyer, connived with the Finch-Wardle family to make sure that his estate was nil and no more money went into the fund. I got back at them after the war though; I sold my copy of his confession to the News of World and put the cheque into Sherry’s fund. The family were furious when the story was published because they were trying to make out that Jeremy was a war hero who had died in defence of his country when everyone now knew that he was really a former drug dealing, draft dodger who had been killed in a whore’s bed. Revenge is so sweet and there was nothing that they could do about it. Now I just have to get my hands on that lawyer for letting Kurt find out about Sherry. In fact I could kill both of them!”

Intoxicated as I was, a shiver went down my spine at those words but Miss Spiteful was continuing with her story.

“Sugar moved in with me and I gave her short domination course for pregnant novices, which she picked up very quickly and was working with me in the dungeon in a matter of weeks. As I have said before, never underestimate the male taste for the bizarre or the repulsive; a tall muscular and very pregnant black dominatrix virtually had them virtually queuing at the door for a session when the word got round. Of course the money was nice but we both had to work very hard and I had to cope with her morning sickness, food fads, depressions and tantrums. As you well know, she is almost as wilful as me and definitely stronger and, at times, our living together was not good chemistry. Juanita made sure that he was never around to do any of the clearing up or helping me out and when Sugar’s time got closer my life got harder. I thank God that I have never had children and you should be grateful too. Then, typically, she could not even give birth easily. I spent nearly two days on a hard bench outside the maternity ward at Saint Mary’s Hospital with every one coming out to look at me and then back in at her before the baby finally spewed out. And do you know what the black bitch did when I got in to see them? She made me pick the baby girl up, said that I was to be her Godmother and me swear to look out for her for the rest of her life.

Forbes had found a nice young couple in Barnet, to the north of London, who could not have children of their own to adopt her and they agreed to keep the name Sherry that Sugar had given the baby. I have never seen Sherry from the day that I handed her over until yesterday, although I got all the reports and photographs, except during the war of course.”

That brought on some more tears and the last drops of the third bottle were tipped into her glass.

 “Forbes kept his word about keeping my involvement quiet. Until this morning, Bradshaw never knew that it was me who gave the British the key to his coded despatches. That’s something else I have to thank Kurt for! During the war, Walter Schellenberg showed me the list of Britons that they had compiled from Bradshaw’s reports and asked if I knew any of them. He said that Heydrich was puzzled as to why none of these people had made a move to oust Churchill and request an armistice. Well, there were some very prominent names on that list and most of them are alive today, as are those on the other list that Bradshaw contributed to of Britons to be arrested and eliminated when the Nazis took over.

Apparently Bradshaw’s orders were, if he was in danger of arrest, to go underground and contact our spy ring in England. What the SS and the Abwehr did not know was that they had all been rounded up by the time war was declared. Bradshaw and the others were all in Wandsworth Prison and told to send back false reports written by the British or be hanged.

The Nazi death list was found after the war but Hoover told me that during the darkest days of the war for Britain; after Norway, Dunkirk, Crete, Singapore and Tobruk, Churchill used the other list to seize and then hold on to power. Those on it were told to support him or be exposed as traitors; the British Government is probably still using it today because its existence has never been revealed.”

Miss Spiteful paused for a sip of wine and I lit another cigarette. I also counted how many were left in the packet and decided that I would have to buy some later today, especially if Kelly was coming back.

“Forbes must also have kept his promise about writing to the FBI because the US Embassy in London suddenly came up with all my entry and work permits. So, once Sherry had been born and handed over, I was able to book my passage to New York and start closing down my business in London. Of course, Sugar and I had been talking over what she could do next since she had now qualified as a Dominatrix. Once I had obtained permission from the London Dominafuhrer, we held a small graduation orgy; inviting a few of the local Doms that we had made friends with and some of our best clients like Sir Hartley, and she chose to use the name Sugar. I had expected her to stay on in England or move back to Holland but I never imagined what the stupid black bitch would finally decide to do……….” 

London September 1938

 “You really are mad!” Miss Spiteful shook her head. “Look, there is still time to change your mind. Bring your bags back in; Sir Hartley can get the landlord to extend the lease for another six months and by then I should have fixed a temporary permit for you to come and join me in New York.”

It was Sugar’s turn to shake her head. “No, it is too late. I cannot turn back now; I must do this.”

They were standing, wearing their coats, in the lounge of Miss Spiteful’s Bayswater apartment which had been cleared of all except its rented furnishings. Miss Spiteful’s cabin baggage was stacked by the front door, the rest having already been picked up by the shipping line and taken on ahead to Southampton. Sugar’s luggage was currently being loaded into a taxi in the street outside by Juanita who, despite having been paid off the week before, had turned up with a willingness to work that had he never shown before. The contents of Miss Spiteful’s dungeon that she could not take with her had already been sold off to other Doms and removed.

“But of all the places to go, why choose Germany?” Miss Spiteful’s voice rose in exasperation. “For God’s sake, don’t you know that Schwarzers get treated worse there than the Jews?”

“And America welcomes Blacks with open arms; gives them all good jobs, homes, votes and justice?” Sugar replied sarcastically.

“But there is going to be a war!” Miss Spiteful almost pleaded. “This Sudetenland business is going to blow up any day and I hope that British and French do not start fighting Germany before my ship gets into United States waters. I’ve no wish to end up in an internment camp. ”

“I’m Dutch and neutral,” was Sugar’s curt reply as she moved to the window to see if Juanita and the cabbie had finished loading her cases aboard the taxi.

“That’s not going to help next time,” Miss Spiteful declared. “An Admiral in Berlin told me that the British blockade in the Great War was so successful because they just had to close off our ports on the North Sea and the Skaggerak.  Even before Hitler, they had decided that in future we needed a longer coastline to get ships in and U-boats out and that means Norway, Denmark and Holland. So when war comes, and mark my words it will, you will be in it too!”

Sugar blinked and did not reply but she had difficulty holding the flame of her lighter steady to ignite the end of her cigarette. She blew smoke into the air and then began to pace up and down in front of the window.

Miss Spiteful changed tactics. “You are doing this to punish yourself for giving up Sherry. You have chosen the worst possible option because you feel guilty and going somewhere or doing something that will make you happy would be unforgivable. You could stay here, go home, come with me or go to any other country in Europe but, oh no!  You, you big nosed, cock-eyed, stupid, black bitch have to be a martyr and go the one country where you will be despised and persecuted because of the colour of your skin. The Nazis might not like Jews but the whole of Germany hates blacks. You’ll soon find that out and you’ll love every minute of it. Why don’t you save all the bother and just join the Carmelites; that way you can deny yourself all pleasures of the flesh and flagellate yourself at the same time.”

Sugar stopped and hung her head for a few moments before turning to face Miss Spiteful with tears welling in her eyes.

“You are partly right and you are also completely wrong. There has not been a day gone by that I have not thought about my daughter and regretted giving her up but I know that it was the right decision for her. I’d like to stay here but there are too many unhappy memories and there is always the possibility that Sherry and I would run into each other. The poor girl has got enough going her against in this world without the burden of having me around. Amsterdam would be just the same; I cannot face my parents and sooner or later mine and Jimmy’s paths would cross. My French is little better than yours and I don’t like the Parisians either; don’t tell me that Italy is not going to be in the next war and Spain already is. The rest of Europe is either crap or too cold. I speak excellent German and, despite your remarks, I know that I am fucking beautiful. My fantastic body will soon be back to normal and with the craft that you have taught me I know that I can make a living. What I need to do is to stop moping, start thinking about myself again and learn to live on my wits. What better place than Germany? Besides, I can’t live with you any more. I’m in love with you, you arrogant, carrot topped, German cow, but we are too much alike in temper and wilfulness. We would end up killing each other. Neither of are really lesbians either; it’s been fun making love with you but we both prefer having a man’s long cock up inside us. You carry on looking for your perfect man; I’ve still got to learn to trust before I can love a man again. I just hope that he is not German.”  

Miss Spiteful had instantly regretted her own outburst and could not stop the tears rolling down her own cheeks as Sugar finished speaking. They flung themselves into each other’s arms and kissed, hugged and sobbed silently together for some minutes.

“You’ll be fine,” Miss Spiteful sniffed. “Sapphire has promised to settle you in and look after you in Berlin. She’ll probably fall in love with you too so let her down gently; that girl has a permanently broken heart. I’ve written to Walter Schellenberg; not only would he know which Berliners are most likely to avail themselves your services but he can also you offer you a measure of protection against official persecution by the Nazis. It’s not guaranteed but the more powerful clients that you get the better chance you have of keeping out of trouble. I know that there are plenty who will want to pay to be dominated and abused by someone that they despise.”

A tooting from outside signalled that operations in the street had been completed and they held each other’s tear stained faces in their hands for one final kiss before parting.

“Safe journey,” Sugars voice was thick with emotion. “I really love you and cannot thank you enough for all that you have done for me.”

“And the same to you,” Miss Spiteful replied, her voice equally husky. “Give my love to Sapphire and Berlin.”

Miss Spiteful, dabbing at her face with a handkerchief, watched from the window as Sugar’s cab drove away to be replaced at the kerb by another one energetically flagged down by Juanita.

“Right, the coon’s off to the Liverpool Street Station and your cab for Waterloo is downstairs. I bet you are glad that I came in today, aren’t you?” Juanita paused at the door with a suitcase in each hand to give Miss Spiteful a fawning grin. “I do hope that you’ll take that it into consideration.”  

Miss Spiteful suddenly realised that Juanita’s appearance and efforts were an attempt to get the substantial tip that had not been forthcoming when he had been paid off at the weekend.

“Oh, yes of course,” Miss Spiteful’s lips twisted into a thin smile. “I think that you will find that I can be very generous in the circumstances.”

“Oh smashing!” Juanita whooped. “I knew that you Krauts aren’t all bad.”

Miss Spiteful’s eyes narrowed as she heard Juanita thumping her suitcases all the way down the staircase to the front door. She flipped opened the portmanteau that contained her personal and travel documents and lifted out the riding crop that she kept in one of the back pockets. Miss Spiteful took a couple of practice swipes and then, satisfied that her coat would not obstruct her swing, called out in a sweet voice as she heard her former maid re-ascending the stairs.

“Oh Juanita! Come in here; I have something for you.”



To continue this story, click I Wanted To Be In America



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