From Blushes 7
A German provincial town. The year is 1936. In the square the flags flutter briskly in the clear May air: red, white and black, and the swastika emblems, insignia of the Brave New World. Insignia of a nation strong and sure of itself, and prepared to go to war if necessary for its perceived rights. A nation strong and disciplined.
In an office in an imposing building fronting onto the square, that message of discipline was being repeated this bright May morning by a State doctor to his young visitor. ‘Discipline, Fraulein. There will be much discipline for you in the Reich Girls. But discipline is good: you must accept it willingly, for yourself and for the State.’
The Reich Girls, or more formally the Reich League of Girlhood, was the elite State girls’ group and Dr Streicher’s visitor, Margit Hoffman, had two days ago received an invitation to join. She was just 16, tall for her age and of pure blonde Aryan appearance: a pretty girl with two thick golden plaits reaching almost to her waist. It was this impeccable German beauty which had now resulted in her invitation to become a member of the Reich Girls — that impeccable appearance and also her impeccable record from school. For only a carefully chosen few ever received, at 16 or 17, that cherished invitation to join.
It was quite simply the highest honour a German girl could hope for and naturally Margit, and her parents as well, had been overjoyed when the letter with the invitation had arrived. The letter had contained as well an appointment to see Dr Streicher, because a full medical examination was first necessary before the invitation could be made final.
Margit’s clear blue eyes met those of Dr Streicher. ‘The discipline will be a privilege, Herr Doctor. As you say it is all for the good of our State.’
The doctor, a middle-aged man in a white coat with sharp eyes behind rimless spectacles, was obviously pleased with the girl’s positive response. ‘Good, Fraulein Margit! You will do well. And now please remove all the clothes. Except you may retain your knee socks.’
The members of Reich Girls had to be perfectly formed and in perfect health: they were after all the very flower of German maidenhood. So the fact that she had to be examined did not come as a surprise to Margit. With a slight flush to her pretty cheeks her hands went to her hip, to the fasteners of her grey calf-length skirt. She stepped out of it, then unfastened the little mother-of-pearl buttons down the front of her pink blouse. The blouse came off; then her white slip and her shoes.
Now in only brief white bra and knickers and her white knee socks she glanced at the doctor.
‘And the rest please, Fraulein. A full physical examination is necessary for all new Reich Girls.’
Pink-faced, Margit slipped off the bra, to reveal firm high pink-nippled breasts. Then with a deft movement the white knickers were slid down. She stepped out of them, then made herself stand straight with hands at her sides. She was nude now except for the white socks — and very conscious of her bare breasts and that neat blonde Aryan bush down below.
The doctor stepped forward. Margit gave a gasp as a hand reached out and took hold of her pussy. He squeezed it briefly, then told her to turn. Gratefully she did, to present those thick blonde braids hanging down her dimpled back and, below, the tightly-buttocked backside. The Doctor’s hand took hold of one firm bottom-cheek, squeezing again.
‘Yes Fraulein: very good. And this part of you, as you will know, this fine young German bottom, will be receiving the discipline that I spoke of. Girls in the Reich Girls always have plenty of discipline on the bottom. Although I should say also the backs of the thighs as well; that is an area which some of the instructors prefer to work on. Have you in fact experience of the cane before, Fraulein?’
‘No, Herr Doctor.’ Margit tried not to shiver.
‘Ah, then as I say, you will have to learn to welcome it. The cane and the strap are essential in the training of a Reich Girl.’
The hand let go of her bottom and then both hands came round and took hold of Margit’s breasts. Fingers and thumbs rubbed and tweaked the soft pink nipples, and she flushed red as they became firm and turgid.
‘Yes, young lady, you have indeed an excellent body. I can see no problem. But now we must examine the orifices. Turn again please.’
Margit turned to face him, and was made to open her full-lipped mouth wide while Dr Streicher peered inside. Then his fingers went in. Fingers with a rather unpleasant antiseptic taste which probed and prodded. Finally Dr Streicher expressed satisfaction with that, and Margit was told to get up on his examination couch. On hands and knees and with her legs spread.
Margit got up into position on the table. In front of her the doctor put on a white rubber glove and then spread cream over the middle finger. He moved round behind…
‘Keep calm,’ advised Dr Streicher, with his other hand in the small of her back holding her still, ‘but we must check everything, of course.’
After some little time the finger came out and Dr Streicher removed the glove. And then his hand came back, in between Margit’s legs from behind again but this time after something else. He took hold of her pussy, stroking it, then opening the lips. And then the finger, this time not gloved, was again up inside Margit. Once more, sweating, she gritted her teeth as the finger explored… and again slid in and out…
At last this second ordeal was over. She could climb down.
‘Very good!’ Dr Streicher was somewhat pink in the face. ‘Everything is satisfactory and you are of course a virgin. Naturally only virgin girls can become members of Reich Girls.’
Margit, still hot and flustered from what he had done, looked hopefully at her clothes piled on a chair, but the doctor had not quite finished.
‘As you have not had the cane at all, Fraulein, I think I might give you a little preliminary initiation in that regard. Yes, I think that will be a very good idea. And we can see what a brave and disciplined German girl you can be.’
Margit was told to stand behind the straight-backed chair which held her clothes, and bend her nude body forward on the back, with arms and head down in the seat. Trembling but obedient, she complied… as Dr Streicher fetched a three-foot rattan cane from his cupboard.
He ran his hand over the bare outthrust bottom, then tap-tapped the cane across it. A pause… and then a desperate biting sting as the cane whipped viciously down in a juddering THWACK! There was no particular display of discipline as Margit let out a gasping cry, with her bottom jerking and dancing.
‘Keep the position, Fraulein!’ barked the doctor’s precise voice. The pale bottom now displayed a pair of close parallel bright red lines transversely across its centre. There was another pause… and then another THWACK! A second viciously stinging impact. Another gasping yelp with accompanied desperate writhings.
There were six altogether. Leaving six of those tightly parallel bright red stripes on Margit’s soft pale bottom. Eyes gleaming, Dr Streicher stood the shaking girl upright and turned her to face him. She was crying, her body trembling. He put an arm round the slim shoulders.
‘Do not worry, my dear: I am sure you did your best. And proper discipline will of course come with training. But now you are a Reich Girl, a very very special German girl. And therefore we will now have a glass of our incomparable German wine to celebrate this notable day.’
Dr Streicher fetched a bottle of Rhine wine and two glasses. Wiping her eyes, Margit sipped the cold white wine still dressed in only her white socks and still with the six red stripes on her bottom. She was given a second glass. The smart in her bottom became somewhat less, as the wine got to her.
And then, somehow, with her head spinning, she was sitting on Dr Streicher’s lap. He was telling her about the marvellous life of a Reich Girl — as his hand caressed and stroked her bare breasts. And then, still talking, softly, hypnotically, his face rather red, his hand went between Margit’s legs again.
After the unaccustomed wine it was as if it was all happening at a distance, but Margit could feel her body responding. She lay back, against his arm, legs apart, as the hand between her thighs rhythmically stroked. Automatically her hips started responding, rocking in a rhythmic counterpart to the hand…
Half an hour later, demurely dressed again but still dazed, Margit walked back out into the bright May sunshine. She glanced up at the flags still snapping briskly against the clear blue sky, and took a deep breath. She was now what all German girls dreamed of: A Reich Girl. But for the moment it was difficult to take in.
What had happened in Dr Streicher’s office had been quite overwhelming: the awful caning which she knew she had not stood up to in the correct disciplined manner, and then what he had done afterwards on his lap. She would have found that utterly shocking, except that he had explained it was to relieve her tension and he was doing it simply as a doctor. Yes, the whole thing was overwhelming, but then to suddenly find yourself a Reich Girl was bound to be overwhelming.
By the time she got home, 20 minutes later, the fresh air had more or less cleared Margit’s head. Her mother greeted her excitedly. Had it gone all right?
‘Yes Mother,’ said Margit, smiling. ‘I am now a Reich Girl.’
Frau Hoffman hugged her daughter ecstatically. It was like a dream. Naturally she desperately wanted to ask all about it but knew she must not. Once a girl became a Reich Girl that part of her life must remain strictly confidential; secret in fact. Not even her family were permitted to know any details.
Margit went up to her room, to lie on her bed and think about it all. About what Dr Streicher had done. About the training she was going to have to undergo. The cane and the strap. She shivered but then thought: whatever is required is for the glory of Germany.
----//----This story, fully illustrated with photographs of precisely the kind of girls the Reich Girls hierarchy would have loved, is continued in Blushes brand new Blushes Supplement, the first sparkling issue of which will be on the bookshelves by the first week of February. Don’t miss it!