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threw the toothpicks away and reached for the bone darning-needle. He flourished it about in the air, licking his lips and winking at his two “boys,” who chuckled and winked back. Helga Nordheim dug her nails into her sweaty palms, arching her body, stiffening all her muscles, whimpering pathetically.
    The bone needle dipped down towards the coral fissure of her tender asshole. The sharp point prodded the other lip now, then gave it two or three quick little prods, and then suddenly slipped between the lips to enter the rectum itself.
    Helga Nordheim's head flung back, her mouth gaping in a raucous shriek: “OUUUUUUUUUU!!! EEEEEE ARRRRHHHH!!! TAKE IT OUT, TAKE IT OUT OF ME. I'LL TRY TO TELL YOU, OH MY GOD THE PAIN, TAKE IT OUT—OH PLEASE TAKE IT OUT—I'LL TELL YOU!!!”

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    At the same time that poor Helga Nordheim was undergoing the depraved and viciously scientific tortures of the Gestapo, her husband and the young student Kathy Flichtsen were meeting in the basement of a ramshackle house in the poorer section of Berlin, near the Platz Rittersted.
    There were two young men present also, and their two girl friends, and all of these five young people were students in Professor Kurt Nordheim's class.
    It was a kind of council of war, for what Helga Nordheim did not know was that her husband was actually the editor of the forbidden underground newspaper, Till Eulenspiegel. And it was to be poor Helga Nordheim's misfortune that her husband inadvertently left the latest issue of that illicit publication where she had found it... and it was this piece of evidence which the Gestapo chiefly relied upon in subjecting this gently bred and beautiful young matron to the fiendish and demeaning tortures which we have just witnessed and which, we may add, had only just begun....
    Professor Kurt Nordheim was thirty-six years old, about five feet eleven inches in height, with curly brown hair, and a Vandyke beard. He had pleasant blue eyes, his cheeks were rather angular and his eyes seemed to be hollowed because of the pronounced prominence of his very shaggy brows and the planes of his cheekbones. He had a Roman nose with rather sensuous nostrils, and his mouth was firm and yet a trifle fleshy, betraying a somewhat hedonistic temperament.
    He had been married to Helga for exactly nine years and eight months, and she had been a virgin indeed when he had married her. He had always led an academic life, but the brutal war and Hitler's manipulation of the German people had inflamed his sense of rectitude. He had an older cousin who fought in the French Resistance, and a letter had been smuggled in from the German border to reach him explaining what the Maquis was doing to counteract the brutalities and terrorism practiced by the Nazis. Professor Kurt Nordheim did not want to involve his beautiful and somewhat ingenuous wife. It had been his sorrow that she had never been able to give him a child, but what he did not know, or Helga either, for that matter, was that she was sterile. Still, that was no great matter at the time, for in the midst of this all-out war which Hitler was waging virtually against the world, there was really no place for babies and young children. And the older children were being taken into the Hitler Jugend and corrupted to testify even against their own parents and to denounce even their friends and schoolchums to the Gestapo.
    So, a year ago, when he had taken his class to Dresden on a lecture tour, he had been contacted by a member of the Maquis, a German-born young man whose sympathies were with the French and the Allies. This man had suggested that he as a leading professor with wide influence over the impressionable teenagers and future citizens of Germany, could wield great influence for good. The agent had suggested the publication and dissemination of a satirical leaflet or paper. Out of this suggestion, Professor Kurt Nordheim had created Till Eulenspiegel.
    But the Professor had gone one