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.

“It would be a shame if you did. I’ve gone through a great deal of trouble to arrange tonight.” Her stomach twisted. She hadn’t forgotten. The ink on that cursed contract had barely dried. She was his mistress now — for one year, bound to him by her own desperate choice. It was a deal she’d thought she could handle. A deal of survival. But the reality of it was finally sinking in. This wasn’t a job. This was Ethan Blackwood. The car slowed, pulling up to the private entrance of a luxury high-rise. The doorman immediately stepped forward, opening the sleek black door with a bow. Ethan exited first, extending a hand back toward her. For a moment, she hesitated. Then she placed her trembling fi

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.

Or had it been three times? No matter. Such friends were second to none! Inside, the brothel was noisy, crowded, and filled with smoke, but at the same time, sparkling with glitter and mirrors. There was also lots of female flesh. The girls were all but naked, dressed in semi-transparent patches of cloth and beads and long translucent skirts with such slits that I even started to think they were simply wrapped in fabric. Naturally, underwear was not a part of such outfits. The eponymous Mistress Eliza came out to meet us. She was a buxom woman in her fifties who wore a dumb expression on her painted face. Just a mask, I thought.

This is called the real win. “The truth about the identity of your mistress AKA Ms. Cecelia Sabella” Cecelia rose to her knees shaking her head in denial. She better do something before that bitch spouts nonsense. She shouldn’t let Master misunderstand her. “Ms. Wilson! I do not understand how you got this information but let me assure you, I would never dream of becoming the mistress. I am certain” Of course she is aiming for the queen position. Klara is well aware of her scheme but she’ll unmask her fully some other time. It’s enough to fool her once. Look at the astonishment on people faces. They are shocked to know the truth.

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

Her fingers brushed the leash clipped to Celeste’s collar, and with one firm tug, she forced her head back. “You’ve pleased him before,” she said, her voice low, firm. “But that means nothing to me.” Celeste didn’t speak. The gag silenced her. Mistress leaned closer. “Tonight, you obey me. And if I see even a flicker of hesitation… you’ll regret it.” She fastened the gag between Celeste’s lips. The lights above dimmed. The chamber darkened—except for the stage. Showtime. — Mistress stepped back, now holding a long leather cane in one hand. With her other hand, she snapped her fingers toward the side wall.

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