The Mistress Of Auschwitz Novels & Stories

Alicia POV The heel on my stilettos made a sound each step I took on this cold tiled ground. I held my breathe from taking in the stench of all these criminals that were being thrown into jail for some particular period of time. I went straight to the officer who had arrested Beatriz an hour ago or two.... Somewhere there about, was to busy laughing to had even realize the time she was arrested. "I'm here to see Mrs Beatriz" I said, flashing those teeth that I had just got whitened for this particular reason.... Smiling actually makes you younger.

Nirvana's reply was nonchalant and her body was relaxed. Laura thought to herself that she didn’t look like someone whose name and face was trending as a mistress. “But you were labeled the mistress,” Laura protested, but Nirvana only waved her words away with a smile as she picked her lunch. The scent of spaghetti hung in the air, but it was the intensity of stares that unsettled.

As I enter the dining room, I see Austin sitting at the table reading over some papers. Taking in the view of him dressed immaculately in a white button down shirt and black slacks I sigh a little. There could be worse things than being this man's mistress I think. As I enter, my heels clacking on the floor, he raises his head and looks me up and down. He gives a slight nod of approval before indicating for me to take a seat. I open my mouth to greet him but before I can speak a word he holds up one finger, indicating for me to wait. Biting my tongue I do as he asks. He continues to read before setting the papers to the side.

She sobbed in happiness to have me back. Dear God. I missed my little girl so much. What would have happened to her if I hadn’t survived the accident? I fought back tears with all my strength. "This is Gillian, our daughter and this is my mother, Ruth. This is Sofia, our housemaid." Derrick tried to remind me of everyone. But Ruth's face was clearly unfriendly to me. I had to stay calm, pretending not to know anything. Luckily, the surveillance camera in this house was still functioning well. And no one knew about it.

She asked, looking up at her in surprise. “Do you have any clue what that psycho did to her? What he actually does to people he deems not worthy of his time or unnecessary? Maybe you haven’t heard the stories but let me enlighten you on how your precious master treats people.” She growled with contempt. “We work for a mad man who holds people hostage right here at this very fucking mansion. I say people because he does not give two shits about anyone unless they can give him pleasure or a profit! He beat her. He raped her. He tortured her! God knows what else he did to her. I’m glad she got the fuck out of there. Delilah, if I were you I would stop trying to work your way into the “master’s

NIGHTINGALE ** The person Destros knew who worked for the butcher was a woman in her mid forties who was in charge of the prostitutes at the bar the butcher owned. These prostitutes, both male and female, were here of their own free will. They got paid for their services, but this establishment was just used to cover up his real business of selling human beings off as sex slaves. Madame Doris was the woman’s name, and she wore more makeup than was necessary. Her voice was hoarse from years of substance abuse, and she had a frown that seemed permanently etched on her face. Apparently, she owed Destros a favour after helping her clean up a mess aa while back. But she still wasn’t willing to ri

While I scraped her floors and polished her windows, she was sharing meals and memories with her son’s mistress. “Dinner is ready, Madam,” the butler announced, leading the way to the dining hall. Standing, Julia held out her hand. “Come, Mavis, sit by me.” Misha clenched his fists, but he didn’t stop her. He just stood there, watching as his mother guided his mistress into the main dining hall, to sit in a seat I was told I didn’t deserve.

His voice broke. A knot twisted in my chest. I leaned forward. “Go on, Robert.” He nodded slowly. “We never stayed in one place for long. The labs kept moving. Every few days, they'd transport us—blindfolded, drugged. The woman in charge… She called herself the mistress. She ran everything.” I froze. My eyes narrowed. “Mistress?” He nodded. “Yes, my Lord. She gave the orders. Everyone obeyed her.” That single word sent something sharp slicing through me.

"Mistress is expecting you. Follow me please." She was a little on the heavier side, but not unpleasing to look at, so I happily followed her to the rear of the house. Her bottom was streaked with red welts; seven or eight, she was moving too quickly to count. She opened a door to a large room with subdued lighting, with a number of cages, posts, and furniture I couldn't guess the purpose of. There were whips hanging on the walls, rods or canes neatly organized in little bins, shelves filled with dildos and vibrators of nearly every description. There was a male in a tiny cage on the floor, lapping up some food off a plate, a bowl of water beside it. There was a lovely, very naked young woma

“Please pick up the folders, Ms. Escobar.” I bent down. My hands trembled as I picked up the folders and put them on his table. There was a long silence between us. Lifting my face to look at him, I saw him watching me intensely like I was some movie that piqued his curiosity. “You’re too young. Did you enjoy being my father’s mistress?” he asked with a blatant tone. I felt dismayed at his accusation. He was no different from the people in this school. “You ruined my family.”