Penelope Pitstop is not a a traditional Superheroine, but she does fight wear a uniform... and fight a supervillain I also have a few readers on here that have been booted off of DA (@yc-batgirl & @batgirl1966), who would otherwise not have access to my stories. This is more of a steampunk adventure-spy adventure, and this forum could use some activity to help restore it, so I am posting it here.
As always, feedback and comments are welcomed and encouraged....
Luftschiff Pitstop (new Story)
Re: Luftschiff Pitstop (new Story)
Part 1
The General pulled up to the airfield and stepped out of his car. He motioned for his driver to park in the shade of the hanger and wait for him while he finished his business. His was a delicate mission and the fewer prying eyes and ears involved the better.
He puffed out his chest as much as he could muster. The idea of being sent to negotiate with little waif was somewhat galling. He had fucked secretaries older than her the idea that this girl was running around in trousers, just made it that much worse. This was the type of thing a captain or maybe a major could be tasked with, hell they might prefer talking to the little waif more than he would.
He pulled open the door to the hanger office and looked around. There was a single secretary sitting at a little wooden desk filling out invoices and manning a telephone in case it should ring.
“Excuse me, Major General Paine, to see Miss Pitstop?” Paine was expecting more. It was bad enough he was sent groveling to ask a favor of a debutante, by the War Department, but to find her office was just an enclosed corner of a dirty aircraft hanger was making his blood boil. He had two stars on his shoulders, this was beneath his rank.
The woman looked up at him, mild disdain in her expression. He wasn’t sure if it was directed at him or the fact that she, too, found herself the subject of an adolescent girl. She raised her fountain pen and pointed it at the door into the hanger.
Paine grunted and looked at the dirty green door. It was mottled with the smudges of a thousand greasy hand prints. “Thank you ma’am.”
“General. Don’t underestimate her.” The woman returned to her paperwork. “Those that do, usually regret it…”
He walked across the almost empty hanger. A cargo box sized tool chest sat next to a partially disassembled airplane. It was a single seated fighter twin hispano .303 machine guns pointed through the propeller. The engine cowling was off the biplane and parts of the two radial cylinders were dismantled on a table next to the plane.
Sticking out from the open cowling was a small and round butt dressed in tight pink leather.
General Paine stood back and waited for the girl to notice him. He could hear a torque ratchet clicking away inside the plane. Moving in time with the metallic clicks, the pink bottom shifted right to left. It was not an unpleasant sight and if this assignment hadn’t offended him so much he might have continued to enjoy it for a while longer…
“Ahem,” he cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Miss Pitstop?” He felt stupid for framing this as a question, he had never met any other females that worked on aircraft and as far as he knew, there were none that work pink flying leathers.
Her long thin legs extended down onto a wooden crate that allowed her to reach into the body of the aircraft. Her calves were clad in shapely white boots that fit to the curves of her legs and had heels that added a couple of inches to her diminutive height.
Penelope pulled herself out of the engine compartment. She was barely more than the waif he remembered from his earlier meetings with her. Even so, she was barely his height standing on the wooden crate and looked like a strong breeze would blow her away.
“General! What a pleasure to see you again.” Penelope smiled and hopped from her crate and stepped up confidently to shake his hand. Despite the smudges of grease on her face and scuffs on her form fitting flight jacket, Miss Penelope Pitstop exuded a smart savvy, coated in southern charm and a light layer of engine grease. Her blond locks were tied with a braid and a lavender ribbon.
“What brings you by on this very fine morning?” Penelope’s smile glowed. Paine was starting to understand why a junior officer was not being sent to deal with this woman. “Would you care to go for a flight? I’ll have the engine to this one back together in a jiffy…”
“That would be very exciting, ma’am, but I am here on some rather pressing news…” Paine was trying to remain unflustered by her disarming charm. A man twenty years his junior would have been climbing into the cockpit in a split second, unaware of the white knuckle experience that would follow.
“Very well, so what ya’ll interested in talking to little ol’ me about?”
“As you are probably aware, Miss Penelope, your uncle, Gustav von Schnellendor-Pitstop has been running the Pitstop Ghmb during the war. Like your part of the family, he has opposed building weapon systems that can be used to attack civilian cities….”
“The Pitstops are not in favor of bombing civilians. Ma’ dear departed father was emphatic about that and I know Gustav was cut from the same sturdy wood. We Pitstops, while doing our best to defend our respective countries, will not participate in the making of weapons to be used against cities…”
“Yes, but I am here to tell you that your uncle has been secretly having the Schnellendor-Pitstop Ghmb secretly developing massive war zeppelins that could rain down tonnes of bombs on cities like Rome, Paris, London and even Washington and New York. Not only that, they will be able to drop chemical weapons on those cities by the thousands.”
“My Uncle Gustav is doing that?” Penelope gasped at the idea of a Pitstop participating in such a ghastly act of brutality.
“I am afraid so. The Luftschiffbau Pitstop is the only factory capable of making such large zeppelins that could make trans-Atlantic flights with significant payloads to attack America.” General Paine looked at Penelope. “We need you to go to Germany and contact your uncle and convince him to honor the agreement he made with your late father. If the Kaiser starts the wholesale bombing of civilian cities, the US, Britain and France will be forced to do the same.”
“They have already started assembling some of these super-zeppelins in Friedrichshafen." Paine spread out a blueprint for a giant airship on the table ‘Graf Pitstop’ would be larger than any ship in the navy, armed with dozens of defensive guns and capable of carrying enough bombs to level a city.
Penelope looked up from the proposed airship. “When do I leave?”
“As soon as possible. The Kaiser has agents that will stop at nothing to prevent you from talking with your uncle and they are already mobilizing to stop you…” General Paine gave Penelope a serious look. “You must travel in complete secrecy, the Axis Forces are already anticipating that you might try to stop them from developing these city busters and spies are everywhere…”
Penelope snapped to attention, her perky little chest thrust out and gave the General a smart salute. “You can count on me, General.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++=
Part 2
Penelope, as the sole surviving Pitstop was the heir to the company and all its resources. Herr Doktor Sneakly was the Pitstop family lawyer in Germany when Penelope had last visited in the pre-war years. She had been just a teenager at the time and Herr Sneakly had taken a liking to the young Penelope and had made sure that she had the opportunity to see some of the great sights of Southern Germany at the time.
Her return to claim the business back in the midst of wartime chaos had caused a stir amongst the board of directors, but all of them had been hand picked from the most loyal engineers and trade unionists of the Pitstop Enterprises. That the Pitstop Luftshiff had been employed on bombing raids on many of the great capitals of Europe had distressed many, but worse when they had been used to deploy gas bombs that caused psychosis.
No longer were the Pitstop Airships being used to attack military targets, but they were now being employed to cause death and chaos amongst civilians. The desperation of the collapsing Empire was no longer to win, but leave sow as much death that winning will have no value.
Herr Doktor Sylvio Sneakly von Grossblut looked down at the paper. “So there is a Pitstop arriving from America? I didn’t think there were any left…”
“Just the one, Sylvio” Margret Magglethorpe handed over the telegram from Zurich. “Penelope, I believe you met her the year before The War. Her Parents were visiting the Schnellendor Pitstops. You were a junior partner at the time.”
“Oh yes. I had babysitting duties. She was 15 or so at the time. I had to drag her all over Southern Germany for a week. Blond hair, blue eyes. I bet she turned out to be quite the looker.” Sneakly looked over the scant information. Contained in the telegram. “When is the original letter going to get here?” Mail from his contacts had a long and tortuous route to avoid being read by war censors of either side. New York to Lisbon then Catalonia, Monaco then Zurich. Finally, a courier brought them into Germany.
“I believe in a day or so, Herr Doktor.”
“What do you think she is coming all this way for?” Being an American in Germany seemed like an excellent way to be shot.
“I assume because of the Zeppelin attacks on London and Paris.” Magglethorpe pulled up her stenograph, expecting a response would be needed. “The board members were all quite put out when they found out about the targeting of civilians. Maybe one of them complained, you-know board members… They love sausage as long as they don’t have to know how it is made… Some of them have been getting squeamish about the support of the war.”
“They weren’t complaining about that ten years ago. They’ve been fine with the war profiteering when it was artillery shells, airplanes and Zeppelins… Why are they getting upset about some city rats getting bombed?”
“It may be that with a real Pitstop taking charge again, they might not want to continue…”
“Magglethorpe, we kept a lid on the loss of the Pitstops von Schnelldors for ten years, it is a matter of National Importance to the Kaiser.” Herr Doktor Sylvio Sneakly leapt from his chair. “Do you think I am going to let some visiting debutante from America derail this?”
“She does own the company, Herr Doktor.” Magglethorpe stood her ground. “The only reason the company wasn’t nationalized was because we needed to keep the news of the Pitstop von Schnellendors’ deaths out of the Axis press.”
“And that is also the only reason you are Direktor.”
“Ya, well we may be able to resolve this whole ownership issue if Penelope were to find an unfortunate end…” Sneakly looked at Magglethorpe. “Maybe it is time for the Hooded Claw to come out of retirement. Are the Bully Brothers still available?”
“I believe they were killed while on a mission to Leipzig, the bomb they were planting blew up in their faces.”
“Premature detonation? Sounds like them. Not surprising, dumb as stumps, but very loyal…” Sneakly sat back at his massive desk. “Do we have some replacements?”
“Ja, Herr Doktor. I believe their widows are both quite good.” Magglethorpe had anticipated this question. She pulled out a folder. “Emotionally unstable, diagnosed sociopathic tendencies. They have a habit of getting a bit too enthusiastic.” Magglethorpe flipped through a stack of papers. “As my Mutti used to say, insurance is better than love…”
“Ja, how is your mother? Is she up for parole?”
“Five more years. She won’t tell them what she did with the others, but I doubt they have the manpower to find them all, what with the war and everything.”
“Yes. the war has brought many blessings.” Sneakly flipped through the file looking at the two widows. They certainly looked capable. Attractive Sueddeutsche, Dark hair, stocky farm types, yet attractive enough to talk their way past most men.
“Fraulein Pitstop, what do we have beyond fond vacation memories?” Sneakly looked back at the cable, as if expecting it to give him more details than it already had.
“We have a press clipping collection for her. One of our agents in New York has been tracking her as the last surviving Pitstop.” Magglethorpe handed another loose file of press clippings to her boss. “She studied at Vassar and has proven to be quite the Renaissance woman. Speaks German, French and Italian. Took up auto racing and has been quite successful at it. She is a certified pilot, parachutist. She has been using her car racing as a testbed for the American division of Pitstop Aeronautics. She has studied dance, archery, fencing and is also a crack shot…”
“And quite the looker…” Sneakly pulled out a studio portrait of the youthful Penelope. She was standing in front of a biplane wing. A tight leather jacket showed her athletic figure in a stylish light. A soft leather flying helmet with flight goggles was perched on her head, a mane of blond hair billowed from underneath.
“What do you plan to do?” Magglethorpe was a great secretary, but she was just as ruthless as any war profiteer.
“We can’t let Fraulein Pitstop get to the board of directors. The war has made their stomachs soft and she is the rightful heir to the entire Pitstop fortune, both here and in America.” Sneakly pulled his Pince-Nez glasses from his nose and after a brief inspection, cleaned them with a handkerchief. “If she never gets to the board, they won’t know she is the last Pitsop and Penelope won’t know that the Scnellendor Pitstops are no more.” He blew on the glasses and continued to clean them. “Of course, I will continue as Chief Executive of Pitstop Gmbh.”
“But sadly, the war cannot last forever, and Penelope will find out that the rest of her family is dead and she is the primary owner of Pitstop Global Enterprises. If she starts digging, she will discover the targeting of civilians in London, Paris and, hopefully, New York…” He mounted the small glasses back on his nose. “That would prove unfortunate.”
“Of course if she were dead, there would be no interference from America and even if the war ended, I will retain my seat at the head of Pitstop Gmbh.”
“And what if she gets married? Has children?” Magglethorpe was always a good strategic thinker.
“That would draw things out, wouldn’t it….” Sneakly looked down at the picture of the girl with her movie star good looks. “Perhaps, we might not wait for such a calamity.” He flipped through the papers. This was a girl of bold, quick actions. “I suppose her widower, whoever the lucky fellow is, would be quite rich. After the fact.”
Frau Magglethorpe gave a laugh, “Quite a bit richer than my Mutti after a lifetime of work.”
“Are you thinking of wooing Fraulein Pitstop for her money?” Magglethorpe was well amused at the idea of this foppish lawyer marrying such an accomplished and attractive woman a good fifteen years younger than himself.
“You don’t think I could make her fall in love with me?” Sneakly started to let his nebbish exterior slide.
“No one else has been able to get her down the aisle, so I give you the same odds as any of them.” She pointed to the stack of clippings which included the occasional society piece.
Sneakly reached down to the locked drawer in his desk and pulled out his masked “I think it might be wiser if the Hooded Claw were to come out of retirement for this,”
“Frau Magglethorpe, your mother, did she get all of those men down the aisle before they went under the floorboards?”
“Heavens No!” Magglethorpe gave a dismissive laugh. “That would have been far too much work. Most of the time she simply had a marriage license printed and additional insurance purchased. She would keep it in a drawer until she had the need for a pay-day and a smoldering cigarette would cause a fire or he would tumble under a tram… Those were for the middle of the road incomes. Her high-end husbands were the ones that went missing….”
“Do you think you could get me something like that?” Sneakly looked at his secretary, “I imagine the assistant to the owner of Pitstop Gobal Enterprises would be very well compensated….”
The General pulled up to the airfield and stepped out of his car. He motioned for his driver to park in the shade of the hanger and wait for him while he finished his business. His was a delicate mission and the fewer prying eyes and ears involved the better.
He puffed out his chest as much as he could muster. The idea of being sent to negotiate with little waif was somewhat galling. He had fucked secretaries older than her the idea that this girl was running around in trousers, just made it that much worse. This was the type of thing a captain or maybe a major could be tasked with, hell they might prefer talking to the little waif more than he would.
He pulled open the door to the hanger office and looked around. There was a single secretary sitting at a little wooden desk filling out invoices and manning a telephone in case it should ring.
“Excuse me, Major General Paine, to see Miss Pitstop?” Paine was expecting more. It was bad enough he was sent groveling to ask a favor of a debutante, by the War Department, but to find her office was just an enclosed corner of a dirty aircraft hanger was making his blood boil. He had two stars on his shoulders, this was beneath his rank.
The woman looked up at him, mild disdain in her expression. He wasn’t sure if it was directed at him or the fact that she, too, found herself the subject of an adolescent girl. She raised her fountain pen and pointed it at the door into the hanger.
Paine grunted and looked at the dirty green door. It was mottled with the smudges of a thousand greasy hand prints. “Thank you ma’am.”
“General. Don’t underestimate her.” The woman returned to her paperwork. “Those that do, usually regret it…”
He walked across the almost empty hanger. A cargo box sized tool chest sat next to a partially disassembled airplane. It was a single seated fighter twin hispano .303 machine guns pointed through the propeller. The engine cowling was off the biplane and parts of the two radial cylinders were dismantled on a table next to the plane.
Sticking out from the open cowling was a small and round butt dressed in tight pink leather.
General Paine stood back and waited for the girl to notice him. He could hear a torque ratchet clicking away inside the plane. Moving in time with the metallic clicks, the pink bottom shifted right to left. It was not an unpleasant sight and if this assignment hadn’t offended him so much he might have continued to enjoy it for a while longer…
“Ahem,” he cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Miss Pitstop?” He felt stupid for framing this as a question, he had never met any other females that worked on aircraft and as far as he knew, there were none that work pink flying leathers.
Her long thin legs extended down onto a wooden crate that allowed her to reach into the body of the aircraft. Her calves were clad in shapely white boots that fit to the curves of her legs and had heels that added a couple of inches to her diminutive height.
Penelope pulled herself out of the engine compartment. She was barely more than the waif he remembered from his earlier meetings with her. Even so, she was barely his height standing on the wooden crate and looked like a strong breeze would blow her away.
“General! What a pleasure to see you again.” Penelope smiled and hopped from her crate and stepped up confidently to shake his hand. Despite the smudges of grease on her face and scuffs on her form fitting flight jacket, Miss Penelope Pitstop exuded a smart savvy, coated in southern charm and a light layer of engine grease. Her blond locks were tied with a braid and a lavender ribbon.
“What brings you by on this very fine morning?” Penelope’s smile glowed. Paine was starting to understand why a junior officer was not being sent to deal with this woman. “Would you care to go for a flight? I’ll have the engine to this one back together in a jiffy…”
“That would be very exciting, ma’am, but I am here on some rather pressing news…” Paine was trying to remain unflustered by her disarming charm. A man twenty years his junior would have been climbing into the cockpit in a split second, unaware of the white knuckle experience that would follow.
“Very well, so what ya’ll interested in talking to little ol’ me about?”
“As you are probably aware, Miss Penelope, your uncle, Gustav von Schnellendor-Pitstop has been running the Pitstop Ghmb during the war. Like your part of the family, he has opposed building weapon systems that can be used to attack civilian cities….”
“The Pitstops are not in favor of bombing civilians. Ma’ dear departed father was emphatic about that and I know Gustav was cut from the same sturdy wood. We Pitstops, while doing our best to defend our respective countries, will not participate in the making of weapons to be used against cities…”
“Yes, but I am here to tell you that your uncle has been secretly having the Schnellendor-Pitstop Ghmb secretly developing massive war zeppelins that could rain down tonnes of bombs on cities like Rome, Paris, London and even Washington and New York. Not only that, they will be able to drop chemical weapons on those cities by the thousands.”
“My Uncle Gustav is doing that?” Penelope gasped at the idea of a Pitstop participating in such a ghastly act of brutality.
“I am afraid so. The Luftschiffbau Pitstop is the only factory capable of making such large zeppelins that could make trans-Atlantic flights with significant payloads to attack America.” General Paine looked at Penelope. “We need you to go to Germany and contact your uncle and convince him to honor the agreement he made with your late father. If the Kaiser starts the wholesale bombing of civilian cities, the US, Britain and France will be forced to do the same.”
“They have already started assembling some of these super-zeppelins in Friedrichshafen." Paine spread out a blueprint for a giant airship on the table ‘Graf Pitstop’ would be larger than any ship in the navy, armed with dozens of defensive guns and capable of carrying enough bombs to level a city.
Penelope looked up from the proposed airship. “When do I leave?”
“As soon as possible. The Kaiser has agents that will stop at nothing to prevent you from talking with your uncle and they are already mobilizing to stop you…” General Paine gave Penelope a serious look. “You must travel in complete secrecy, the Axis Forces are already anticipating that you might try to stop them from developing these city busters and spies are everywhere…”
Penelope snapped to attention, her perky little chest thrust out and gave the General a smart salute. “You can count on me, General.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++=
Part 2
Penelope, as the sole surviving Pitstop was the heir to the company and all its resources. Herr Doktor Sneakly was the Pitstop family lawyer in Germany when Penelope had last visited in the pre-war years. She had been just a teenager at the time and Herr Sneakly had taken a liking to the young Penelope and had made sure that she had the opportunity to see some of the great sights of Southern Germany at the time.
Her return to claim the business back in the midst of wartime chaos had caused a stir amongst the board of directors, but all of them had been hand picked from the most loyal engineers and trade unionists of the Pitstop Enterprises. That the Pitstop Luftshiff had been employed on bombing raids on many of the great capitals of Europe had distressed many, but worse when they had been used to deploy gas bombs that caused psychosis.
No longer were the Pitstop Airships being used to attack military targets, but they were now being employed to cause death and chaos amongst civilians. The desperation of the collapsing Empire was no longer to win, but leave sow as much death that winning will have no value.
Herr Doktor Sylvio Sneakly von Grossblut looked down at the paper. “So there is a Pitstop arriving from America? I didn’t think there were any left…”
“Just the one, Sylvio” Margret Magglethorpe handed over the telegram from Zurich. “Penelope, I believe you met her the year before The War. Her Parents were visiting the Schnellendor Pitstops. You were a junior partner at the time.”
“Oh yes. I had babysitting duties. She was 15 or so at the time. I had to drag her all over Southern Germany for a week. Blond hair, blue eyes. I bet she turned out to be quite the looker.” Sneakly looked over the scant information. Contained in the telegram. “When is the original letter going to get here?” Mail from his contacts had a long and tortuous route to avoid being read by war censors of either side. New York to Lisbon then Catalonia, Monaco then Zurich. Finally, a courier brought them into Germany.
“I believe in a day or so, Herr Doktor.”
“What do you think she is coming all this way for?” Being an American in Germany seemed like an excellent way to be shot.
“I assume because of the Zeppelin attacks on London and Paris.” Magglethorpe pulled up her stenograph, expecting a response would be needed. “The board members were all quite put out when they found out about the targeting of civilians. Maybe one of them complained, you-know board members… They love sausage as long as they don’t have to know how it is made… Some of them have been getting squeamish about the support of the war.”
“They weren’t complaining about that ten years ago. They’ve been fine with the war profiteering when it was artillery shells, airplanes and Zeppelins… Why are they getting upset about some city rats getting bombed?”
“It may be that with a real Pitstop taking charge again, they might not want to continue…”
“Magglethorpe, we kept a lid on the loss of the Pitstops von Schnelldors for ten years, it is a matter of National Importance to the Kaiser.” Herr Doktor Sylvio Sneakly leapt from his chair. “Do you think I am going to let some visiting debutante from America derail this?”
“She does own the company, Herr Doktor.” Magglethorpe stood her ground. “The only reason the company wasn’t nationalized was because we needed to keep the news of the Pitstop von Schnellendors’ deaths out of the Axis press.”
“And that is also the only reason you are Direktor.”
“Ya, well we may be able to resolve this whole ownership issue if Penelope were to find an unfortunate end…” Sneakly looked at Magglethorpe. “Maybe it is time for the Hooded Claw to come out of retirement. Are the Bully Brothers still available?”
“I believe they were killed while on a mission to Leipzig, the bomb they were planting blew up in their faces.”
“Premature detonation? Sounds like them. Not surprising, dumb as stumps, but very loyal…” Sneakly sat back at his massive desk. “Do we have some replacements?”
“Ja, Herr Doktor. I believe their widows are both quite good.” Magglethorpe had anticipated this question. She pulled out a folder. “Emotionally unstable, diagnosed sociopathic tendencies. They have a habit of getting a bit too enthusiastic.” Magglethorpe flipped through a stack of papers. “As my Mutti used to say, insurance is better than love…”
“Ja, how is your mother? Is she up for parole?”
“Five more years. She won’t tell them what she did with the others, but I doubt they have the manpower to find them all, what with the war and everything.”
“Yes. the war has brought many blessings.” Sneakly flipped through the file looking at the two widows. They certainly looked capable. Attractive Sueddeutsche, Dark hair, stocky farm types, yet attractive enough to talk their way past most men.
“Fraulein Pitstop, what do we have beyond fond vacation memories?” Sneakly looked back at the cable, as if expecting it to give him more details than it already had.
“We have a press clipping collection for her. One of our agents in New York has been tracking her as the last surviving Pitstop.” Magglethorpe handed another loose file of press clippings to her boss. “She studied at Vassar and has proven to be quite the Renaissance woman. Speaks German, French and Italian. Took up auto racing and has been quite successful at it. She is a certified pilot, parachutist. She has been using her car racing as a testbed for the American division of Pitstop Aeronautics. She has studied dance, archery, fencing and is also a crack shot…”
“And quite the looker…” Sneakly pulled out a studio portrait of the youthful Penelope. She was standing in front of a biplane wing. A tight leather jacket showed her athletic figure in a stylish light. A soft leather flying helmet with flight goggles was perched on her head, a mane of blond hair billowed from underneath.
“What do you plan to do?” Magglethorpe was a great secretary, but she was just as ruthless as any war profiteer.
“We can’t let Fraulein Pitstop get to the board of directors. The war has made their stomachs soft and she is the rightful heir to the entire Pitstop fortune, both here and in America.” Sneakly pulled his Pince-Nez glasses from his nose and after a brief inspection, cleaned them with a handkerchief. “If she never gets to the board, they won’t know she is the last Pitsop and Penelope won’t know that the Scnellendor Pitstops are no more.” He blew on the glasses and continued to clean them. “Of course, I will continue as Chief Executive of Pitstop Gmbh.”
“But sadly, the war cannot last forever, and Penelope will find out that the rest of her family is dead and she is the primary owner of Pitstop Global Enterprises. If she starts digging, she will discover the targeting of civilians in London, Paris and, hopefully, New York…” He mounted the small glasses back on his nose. “That would prove unfortunate.”
“Of course if she were dead, there would be no interference from America and even if the war ended, I will retain my seat at the head of Pitstop Gmbh.”
“And what if she gets married? Has children?” Magglethorpe was always a good strategic thinker.
“That would draw things out, wouldn’t it….” Sneakly looked down at the picture of the girl with her movie star good looks. “Perhaps, we might not wait for such a calamity.” He flipped through the papers. This was a girl of bold, quick actions. “I suppose her widower, whoever the lucky fellow is, would be quite rich. After the fact.”
Frau Magglethorpe gave a laugh, “Quite a bit richer than my Mutti after a lifetime of work.”
“Are you thinking of wooing Fraulein Pitstop for her money?” Magglethorpe was well amused at the idea of this foppish lawyer marrying such an accomplished and attractive woman a good fifteen years younger than himself.
“You don’t think I could make her fall in love with me?” Sneakly started to let his nebbish exterior slide.
“No one else has been able to get her down the aisle, so I give you the same odds as any of them.” She pointed to the stack of clippings which included the occasional society piece.
Sneakly reached down to the locked drawer in his desk and pulled out his masked “I think it might be wiser if the Hooded Claw were to come out of retirement for this,”
“Frau Magglethorpe, your mother, did she get all of those men down the aisle before they went under the floorboards?”
“Heavens No!” Magglethorpe gave a dismissive laugh. “That would have been far too much work. Most of the time she simply had a marriage license printed and additional insurance purchased. She would keep it in a drawer until she had the need for a pay-day and a smoldering cigarette would cause a fire or he would tumble under a tram… Those were for the middle of the road incomes. Her high-end husbands were the ones that went missing….”
“Do you think you could get me something like that?” Sneakly looked at his secretary, “I imagine the assistant to the owner of Pitstop Gobal Enterprises would be very well compensated….”
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lionbadger
- Legendary Member
- Posts: 827
- Joined: 15 years ago
Re: Luftschiff Pitstop (new Story)
possibly, thought the wacky raceland version is very post apocalyptic superheroine
also, if I might add
https://www.deviantart.com/lionbadger/a ... 1312192352
Re: Luftschiff Pitstop (new Story)
I did some early fiddling around with AI images. They were part of the reason that I conceived this story....
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- _0cfd4641-dd8d-405d-bf8b-5d81393874b6.jpg (123.85 KiB) Viewed 232 times
- _af806662-4d3f-469f-b708-9cc339a97b2d.jpg (193.34 KiB) Viewed 232 times
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- _583ae4bd-3e6f-48c4-831a-6fda5ad6b988.jpg (189.17 KiB) Viewed 232 times
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Re: Luftschiff Pitstop (new Story)
Part 4
Sylvio sat at his desk. Frau Maglethorpe had left his morning work aside so he could review the press work that went out with the morning post. It had been quite the flurry of paperwork over the past couple of days, but it was so rare that an American heiress would defect to the Kaiser and simultaneously elope with her family’s lawyer, fifteen years her senior…
He looked over the wedding announcement. It painted him as a dashing man of action and not so much the pale, nebbish bureaucrat he had become over the years. Despite forcing several rewrites, and a lot of creative license, he finally settled for a narrative the editors found acceptable.
The wedding picture of him in his ceremonial officer’s uniform and Penelope’s stand-in looked smashing. The girdle he wore during the picture session had left him barely able to breath, but he looked as good as he ever would. The edges of Penelope’s face had been cut out and glued over the head of her stand in were obvious in the originals, but it would be invisible in news print.
On one of the side chairs was a box of pink racing leathers and boots. More pictures weren’t really necessary, but the wedding stand-in had been such a striking likeness and the thoughts of what he had done to the real Penelope had excited his imagination. He would have his little tart dress up as her for some “honeymoon” pictures and a few romantic “weekend” adventures.
He looked at the wedding picture and his hand slipped down to his trousers. The thought of her surprised eyes and the thick gag played in his mind… Her petit body fitted snug into the heavy canvas bag, her wriggling around to and fro as the Widows slipped the noose over her neck and prepared the other end to be caught by the post catcher.
It had been years since he had worked as a field agent and this certainly had stirred memories of pre-War assassinations. The good old days of drinking, fucking and killing his way through the refined capitals of Europe.
Penelope was certainly a fine looking woman, and he was a little bit sad he hadn’t allowed her to make it all the way to Friedrichshafen, but military security around the heart of the aircraft and Zeppelin industries made her getting to the city unlikely. She would have been publicly executed as a spy and the opportunity to steal entire Schnellendor-Pitstop and Pitstop family fortunes would have been lost. Much better to be safe and insanely wealthy than sorry and sexually gratified…
Sylvio thought about Penelope. His dick hardened. How had she made it all the way to Germany on her own? Spies from every allied and axis power were crawling through every neutral country in Europe, just looking for an intelligence opportunity like her. An accomplished engineer, pilot, race car driver… loaded down with intimate knowledge of America’s defense industries.
If anyone ever caught her they would do whatever it took to extract every detail about the Pitstop defense companies from her before making her permanently disappear… He certainly would have enjoyed that assignment, if it hadn’t been for his own plans to cash in on her. He lifted up one of the several pictures of her that were on his desk.
He looked at it as he started to stroke his cock. He would have liked to find an opportunity to consummate his fake marriage to her, but every minute she lived added more risk to his plan.
His hand was running up and down his shaft as he thought about the shapely blond, her ubiquitous leather outfits, form fitting boots going almost to her knees. He was imagining that it was her soft little hand stroking his cock and his mind roamed back to some of the truly terrible things he had done in his youth and how she would have looked if he was doing them to her….
“Herr Sneakly?” Frau Magglethorpe’s voice crackled over the intercom from her desk. “Herr Sneakly?”
“What is it? I am rather busy…” His cock was rapidly softening with the interruption. This had better be good.
“”Ja, Herr Sneakly, a Fraulein Penelope Pitstop is here to see you.” Sylvio could hear the near panic in her voice. He sat bolt upright in his chair. He looked at the pressing clippings, news dispatches and photos strewn across his desk. Some announcing her marriage and some her untimely death. Cheese cake photos taken from American magazines and candid images from who knew where.
Without saying a word he pulled open one of his desk drawers and started shovelling the papers in it. His panic grew as he realized his collection would not fit and he opened a second drawer and forced the rest of it in a very unceremonious pile and tried to slam it shut. Eventually it closed and he stood up straightened his jacket and marched across his office to greet his very unexpected guest.
As he turned the door knob, he realized that his limp cock was still dangling from his trousers, a drop of pre-cum staging the cloth. He desperately pushed his cock back into his trouser as the door opened. He hurriedly buttoned his jacket to hide the open fly.
“My dear Penelope! I am so surprised to see you! We were expecting you days ago.” Sylvio extended his hand, still damp from his sweaty cock to his beautiful guest. “I was starting to worry you might have been waylaid by some ruffians or scallywags….” He motioned to Penelope to join him in his office. Penelope wiped the sweat from her hand onto the leg of her Leather pants.
“Well, yes Herr Sneakly, I was, as a matter of fact…” Penelope followed Sylvio into his office. Despite her still wearing the same leathers she had on when the Claw and the Widows had tried to kill her, Penelope looked her usual ravishing self. The salmon pink of her outfit had patches of dirt creating grey and brown smudging on different parts of her outfit, she still had a sharp sparkle in her eye and an easy smile that could charm anyone.
Despite the problems her continued existence created for him, deep down Sylvio was excited that she had turned up alive, if only temporarily.
“Let me fix you a drink, you look like you could use one.” He looked at her dirty state, “I’ll make it a double… and you can tell me your tale.”
“What is this?” Penelope held up the box that had been sitting on the chair. Sylvio had completely forgotten about the outfit for the fake Penelope…
“Err… I had… I… Uhm…” He struggled to find an excuse. In the meantime Penelope opened the box and saw a brand new leather jacket and pants inside.
“Herr Sneakly! You shouldn’t have! Ya’ll are sweeter than a Georgia peach!” She motioned to her current leather outfit. “This one is plum done for… and most of my luggage was lost along the way…”
Sylvio went with it. “Yes, I imagined your travels might have been taxing… So when I heard you were coming to Germany, I had something made for you…. I hope it fits.” He was trying to remember whether her double was shorter or taller than the real Penelope.
He handed her a tumbler of Schnapps and took a long swig off of his and quickly topped it off.
“So, you were waylaid? Were they ruffians or scallywags?” He sat down behind his desk. Penelope sat across from him.
“Ruffians, I would suppose. Two women dressed as nuns took me hostage on the train a couple of days ago and hustled me off to the mail car, where a man was waiting for me.” Penelope took a long sip off her drink.
“A man?” Sylvio leaned forward. “What did he want? Did you recognize him?”
“I don’t believe we were acquainted and I never did get a look at his face. His nose and mouth were hidden under a scarf and he wore a broad hat that hid his eyes..”
Penelope described how she had been cuffed and tied and the noose that was around her neck.
“How on earth did you manage to escape?” Sylvio was completely puzzled, he had watched her being yanked from the train by her neck. She was almost certainly dead of a broken neck by the time he looked out of the train at her dangling in the night.
“I had a small pocket knife in the cuff of my jacket and when the two nuns cuffed me and took me back to the mail coach, I tried to unlock the handcuffs, but fortunately, I failed” Penelope took another swig of her drink.
“When they put me into the mail bag and I realized what they had planned I started to try to cut my way out of the muff and then I was just able to cut the leather strap that held the bag closed. I was just able to reach for the rope that was going to be grabbed by the mail arm…” She took another drink and emptied her glass.
“Well?” Sylvio was fascinated, he was so sure that she was dead.
“Well,” Penelope stood up and went to refill her glass. She brought the decanter back to the desk and freshened Herr Sneakly’s drink before she sat down. “The mail arm on the station was lower than I would have expected and when I reached for the loop, it caught my handcuffs and yanked me out of the train.” She took another stiff sip of her drink.
“I swung around in the air for a good long time in the snow and cold…. Eventually, I was able to swing a leg up on the arm and unhook the rope and cuffs from the arm and drop to the ground. I had some money sewn into my jacket and I was able to make my way on foot to a farm and then paid to have the farmer take me to town and I made my way here.”
“My goodness, Penelope, that is an amazing story…” He put his glass down and looked at the little blond, she could certainly hold her liquor and was apparently much harder to kill than he had originally anticipated…
“What did you say the man was called?” Sylvio was wondering how much Penelope knew about her attackers.
“Oh dear… one of the women called him ‘Claw’” Penelope waited to see if that meant anything to Sylvio.
“Claw? The Hooded Claw?” Sylvio was excited to hear his old identity brought up.
“I suppose so, do you know who he is?”
“I don’t know who he is, but I do know of him… You are a very lucky girl indeed. Most who meet him don’t live to tell the tale.” Sylvio finished his drink and poured himself another. If he was smart, he would keep his mouth shut, but the topic was far too tempting to pass up.
“Whatever do you mean?” Penelope put her glass down and leaned forward in her seat. For two days she had been wondering who the man with the chilling laugh had been.
“I haven’t heard word of him in years. I assumed he was retired, in prison or dead…” Sylvio watched Penelope’s eyes widen. “He was a spy and assassin from before the War, one of the most feared in the Geheimpolezei, the Secret Police. He did political intelligence, counter espionage, counter-counter-espionage and counter-counter-counter espionage. He was what they called a ‘Fixer.’”
“He was famous for loving his job…” Sylvio was warming to the topic. He so seldom found an excuse to talk about the old days. “He was a sociopath, a sexual sadist, a pervert and a not very nice guy. He travelled across Europe ‘fixing’ things that needed fixing. A chamber maid that was listening at doors, a girl friend that was getting too chatty about things she shouldn’t know… He took great pleasure in his work and made murder into a performance art.”
Watching Penelope’s eyes widen as he told the young American about his old life. The recollections were making him very hard. One hand slipped under his desks as he leaned back in his chair. His hand reached into his unbuttoned trousers.
“You were very lucky to escape him. It is rare that his victims get a second chance.”
“Do you think he will try to kill me a second time?” Penelope swallowed hard.
“Almost certainly…”
“How exciting!” Penelope said breathlessly.
“Exciting?” Sylvio stopped mid-stroke.
“Herr Sneakly, as you know I am an aviatrix and car racer, I am afraid that I am a bit more of a daredevil than is proper for a lady of my station. If I listened to all my advisors, I would be back at home, sitting in board meetings and trying on clothes for the theater. Instead, I am testing airplanes, developing race cars, motorcylces, and presently traveling half way around the world to carry out a secret mission deep behind enemy lines.”
Penelope sat up a little straighter in her chair and put her empty schnapps glass on the desk.
“I am regrettably addicted to danger, I know there are more than a few people that would happily see me dead, but I rely on my wits to stay ahead of them. This man, The Hooded Claw, sounds dangerous, but I find that very exciting. I love a challenge and I will certainly try to stay clear of this cad, but I can’t deny I find this intriguing.”
“So Penelope, what brings you to Germany? Certainly not just the excitement of get hung or shot?” Sylvio was excited by other possible fates she might experience, if not those….
“I am here to talk to my uncle, Gustav Schnellendor. I hear he is in charge of the Schnellendor-Pitstop Ghmb.”
“Oh, I am sorry to tell you, Gustav passed away a few years ago. To keep the company from being nationalized, we kept his passing as a state secret. I am afraid you are the very last of the Pitstop line…”
Penelope sighed, she hadn’t expected this. “So who is running the company? Word reached America that they were building airships that could bomb any capital in Europe and even American cities. The Pitstops on both sides of the war have been resisting the use of airships that could be used to bomb civilian cities.”
“I am head of the board of directors and, obviously, have been resisting the War Office’s demands for long range ships. The America Bomber class of zeppelins have pressurized crew cabins and can fly higher than any current aircraft and ground based gun can fire.” Sylvio was rightly proud of his flying machines. “They can carry twenty times the bomb load of either high explosives, incendiaries or gas than any of the current zeppelins in the war.”
“Oh, dear.” Penelope looked aghast at the mention of poison gas being unleashed on civilians.
“I’ll tell you what, Penelope,” Sylvio’s mind was clicking ahead. “You looked positively exhausted, why don’t you go and get some rest and I will take you to dinner at my club. It is a very discreet place and no one will look twice at you. There is a test flight planned for the prototype tomorrow. You and I can discuss what might be done…”
“Are you sure it will be safe for me to meet you? In a public club?” Penelope was tired and a proper dinner would be most welcome. Food rationing, even this far from the front, had meant very bland and meager meals, even for someone with money.
“Don’t worry Penelope, my club will be as safe as anywhere as long as I am around…” Sylvio let out a little chuckle at the irony. “Where are you staying?” Life would be far simpler if he could save himself the cost of a dinner and skip right to desert…
Penelope gave Sylvio a knowing smile, “I would rather not say. The walls have ears, you know…” She touched the side of her nose and gave him a disarming smile. Sylvio at once was confounded on how she managed to slip into the heavily guarded city wearing tight pink leather pants and jacket, at least until he saw her smile. He realized her smile would defeat any guard under 60 and she probably rode into the city in the backseat of a staff car laughing at some general’s attempt at humor.
“Very well, I will meet you at this address at eight?” She took the paper, her boxed up new outfit and stood to leave.
“You are so kind, Sylvio….Just as I remembered you…” She gave him a smile and headed out of his office.
As he watched her ass swaying towards the door, he wondered why he didn’t I try to fuck her way back when. He also wondered what size of ball gag would fit her and if he could get one to match her lipstick
Sylvio sat at his desk. Frau Maglethorpe had left his morning work aside so he could review the press work that went out with the morning post. It had been quite the flurry of paperwork over the past couple of days, but it was so rare that an American heiress would defect to the Kaiser and simultaneously elope with her family’s lawyer, fifteen years her senior…
He looked over the wedding announcement. It painted him as a dashing man of action and not so much the pale, nebbish bureaucrat he had become over the years. Despite forcing several rewrites, and a lot of creative license, he finally settled for a narrative the editors found acceptable.
The wedding picture of him in his ceremonial officer’s uniform and Penelope’s stand-in looked smashing. The girdle he wore during the picture session had left him barely able to breath, but he looked as good as he ever would. The edges of Penelope’s face had been cut out and glued over the head of her stand in were obvious in the originals, but it would be invisible in news print.
On one of the side chairs was a box of pink racing leathers and boots. More pictures weren’t really necessary, but the wedding stand-in had been such a striking likeness and the thoughts of what he had done to the real Penelope had excited his imagination. He would have his little tart dress up as her for some “honeymoon” pictures and a few romantic “weekend” adventures.
He looked at the wedding picture and his hand slipped down to his trousers. The thought of her surprised eyes and the thick gag played in his mind… Her petit body fitted snug into the heavy canvas bag, her wriggling around to and fro as the Widows slipped the noose over her neck and prepared the other end to be caught by the post catcher.
It had been years since he had worked as a field agent and this certainly had stirred memories of pre-War assassinations. The good old days of drinking, fucking and killing his way through the refined capitals of Europe.
Penelope was certainly a fine looking woman, and he was a little bit sad he hadn’t allowed her to make it all the way to Friedrichshafen, but military security around the heart of the aircraft and Zeppelin industries made her getting to the city unlikely. She would have been publicly executed as a spy and the opportunity to steal entire Schnellendor-Pitstop and Pitstop family fortunes would have been lost. Much better to be safe and insanely wealthy than sorry and sexually gratified…
Sylvio thought about Penelope. His dick hardened. How had she made it all the way to Germany on her own? Spies from every allied and axis power were crawling through every neutral country in Europe, just looking for an intelligence opportunity like her. An accomplished engineer, pilot, race car driver… loaded down with intimate knowledge of America’s defense industries.
If anyone ever caught her they would do whatever it took to extract every detail about the Pitstop defense companies from her before making her permanently disappear… He certainly would have enjoyed that assignment, if it hadn’t been for his own plans to cash in on her. He lifted up one of the several pictures of her that were on his desk.
He looked at it as he started to stroke his cock. He would have liked to find an opportunity to consummate his fake marriage to her, but every minute she lived added more risk to his plan.
His hand was running up and down his shaft as he thought about the shapely blond, her ubiquitous leather outfits, form fitting boots going almost to her knees. He was imagining that it was her soft little hand stroking his cock and his mind roamed back to some of the truly terrible things he had done in his youth and how she would have looked if he was doing them to her….
“Herr Sneakly?” Frau Magglethorpe’s voice crackled over the intercom from her desk. “Herr Sneakly?”
“What is it? I am rather busy…” His cock was rapidly softening with the interruption. This had better be good.
“”Ja, Herr Sneakly, a Fraulein Penelope Pitstop is here to see you.” Sylvio could hear the near panic in her voice. He sat bolt upright in his chair. He looked at the pressing clippings, news dispatches and photos strewn across his desk. Some announcing her marriage and some her untimely death. Cheese cake photos taken from American magazines and candid images from who knew where.
Without saying a word he pulled open one of his desk drawers and started shovelling the papers in it. His panic grew as he realized his collection would not fit and he opened a second drawer and forced the rest of it in a very unceremonious pile and tried to slam it shut. Eventually it closed and he stood up straightened his jacket and marched across his office to greet his very unexpected guest.
As he turned the door knob, he realized that his limp cock was still dangling from his trousers, a drop of pre-cum staging the cloth. He desperately pushed his cock back into his trouser as the door opened. He hurriedly buttoned his jacket to hide the open fly.
“My dear Penelope! I am so surprised to see you! We were expecting you days ago.” Sylvio extended his hand, still damp from his sweaty cock to his beautiful guest. “I was starting to worry you might have been waylaid by some ruffians or scallywags….” He motioned to Penelope to join him in his office. Penelope wiped the sweat from her hand onto the leg of her Leather pants.
“Well, yes Herr Sneakly, I was, as a matter of fact…” Penelope followed Sylvio into his office. Despite her still wearing the same leathers she had on when the Claw and the Widows had tried to kill her, Penelope looked her usual ravishing self. The salmon pink of her outfit had patches of dirt creating grey and brown smudging on different parts of her outfit, she still had a sharp sparkle in her eye and an easy smile that could charm anyone.
Despite the problems her continued existence created for him, deep down Sylvio was excited that she had turned up alive, if only temporarily.
“Let me fix you a drink, you look like you could use one.” He looked at her dirty state, “I’ll make it a double… and you can tell me your tale.”
“What is this?” Penelope held up the box that had been sitting on the chair. Sylvio had completely forgotten about the outfit for the fake Penelope…
“Err… I had… I… Uhm…” He struggled to find an excuse. In the meantime Penelope opened the box and saw a brand new leather jacket and pants inside.
“Herr Sneakly! You shouldn’t have! Ya’ll are sweeter than a Georgia peach!” She motioned to her current leather outfit. “This one is plum done for… and most of my luggage was lost along the way…”
Sylvio went with it. “Yes, I imagined your travels might have been taxing… So when I heard you were coming to Germany, I had something made for you…. I hope it fits.” He was trying to remember whether her double was shorter or taller than the real Penelope.
He handed her a tumbler of Schnapps and took a long swig off of his and quickly topped it off.
“So, you were waylaid? Were they ruffians or scallywags?” He sat down behind his desk. Penelope sat across from him.
“Ruffians, I would suppose. Two women dressed as nuns took me hostage on the train a couple of days ago and hustled me off to the mail car, where a man was waiting for me.” Penelope took a long sip off her drink.
“A man?” Sylvio leaned forward. “What did he want? Did you recognize him?”
“I don’t believe we were acquainted and I never did get a look at his face. His nose and mouth were hidden under a scarf and he wore a broad hat that hid his eyes..”
Penelope described how she had been cuffed and tied and the noose that was around her neck.
“How on earth did you manage to escape?” Sylvio was completely puzzled, he had watched her being yanked from the train by her neck. She was almost certainly dead of a broken neck by the time he looked out of the train at her dangling in the night.
“I had a small pocket knife in the cuff of my jacket and when the two nuns cuffed me and took me back to the mail coach, I tried to unlock the handcuffs, but fortunately, I failed” Penelope took another swig of her drink.
“When they put me into the mail bag and I realized what they had planned I started to try to cut my way out of the muff and then I was just able to cut the leather strap that held the bag closed. I was just able to reach for the rope that was going to be grabbed by the mail arm…” She took another drink and emptied her glass.
“Well?” Sylvio was fascinated, he was so sure that she was dead.
“Well,” Penelope stood up and went to refill her glass. She brought the decanter back to the desk and freshened Herr Sneakly’s drink before she sat down. “The mail arm on the station was lower than I would have expected and when I reached for the loop, it caught my handcuffs and yanked me out of the train.” She took another stiff sip of her drink.
“I swung around in the air for a good long time in the snow and cold…. Eventually, I was able to swing a leg up on the arm and unhook the rope and cuffs from the arm and drop to the ground. I had some money sewn into my jacket and I was able to make my way on foot to a farm and then paid to have the farmer take me to town and I made my way here.”
“My goodness, Penelope, that is an amazing story…” He put his glass down and looked at the little blond, she could certainly hold her liquor and was apparently much harder to kill than he had originally anticipated…
“What did you say the man was called?” Sylvio was wondering how much Penelope knew about her attackers.
“Oh dear… one of the women called him ‘Claw’” Penelope waited to see if that meant anything to Sylvio.
“Claw? The Hooded Claw?” Sylvio was excited to hear his old identity brought up.
“I suppose so, do you know who he is?”
“I don’t know who he is, but I do know of him… You are a very lucky girl indeed. Most who meet him don’t live to tell the tale.” Sylvio finished his drink and poured himself another. If he was smart, he would keep his mouth shut, but the topic was far too tempting to pass up.
“Whatever do you mean?” Penelope put her glass down and leaned forward in her seat. For two days she had been wondering who the man with the chilling laugh had been.
“I haven’t heard word of him in years. I assumed he was retired, in prison or dead…” Sylvio watched Penelope’s eyes widen. “He was a spy and assassin from before the War, one of the most feared in the Geheimpolezei, the Secret Police. He did political intelligence, counter espionage, counter-counter-espionage and counter-counter-counter espionage. He was what they called a ‘Fixer.’”
“He was famous for loving his job…” Sylvio was warming to the topic. He so seldom found an excuse to talk about the old days. “He was a sociopath, a sexual sadist, a pervert and a not very nice guy. He travelled across Europe ‘fixing’ things that needed fixing. A chamber maid that was listening at doors, a girl friend that was getting too chatty about things she shouldn’t know… He took great pleasure in his work and made murder into a performance art.”
Watching Penelope’s eyes widen as he told the young American about his old life. The recollections were making him very hard. One hand slipped under his desks as he leaned back in his chair. His hand reached into his unbuttoned trousers.
“You were very lucky to escape him. It is rare that his victims get a second chance.”
“Do you think he will try to kill me a second time?” Penelope swallowed hard.
“Almost certainly…”
“How exciting!” Penelope said breathlessly.
“Exciting?” Sylvio stopped mid-stroke.
“Herr Sneakly, as you know I am an aviatrix and car racer, I am afraid that I am a bit more of a daredevil than is proper for a lady of my station. If I listened to all my advisors, I would be back at home, sitting in board meetings and trying on clothes for the theater. Instead, I am testing airplanes, developing race cars, motorcylces, and presently traveling half way around the world to carry out a secret mission deep behind enemy lines.”
Penelope sat up a little straighter in her chair and put her empty schnapps glass on the desk.
“I am regrettably addicted to danger, I know there are more than a few people that would happily see me dead, but I rely on my wits to stay ahead of them. This man, The Hooded Claw, sounds dangerous, but I find that very exciting. I love a challenge and I will certainly try to stay clear of this cad, but I can’t deny I find this intriguing.”
“So Penelope, what brings you to Germany? Certainly not just the excitement of get hung or shot?” Sylvio was excited by other possible fates she might experience, if not those….
“I am here to talk to my uncle, Gustav Schnellendor. I hear he is in charge of the Schnellendor-Pitstop Ghmb.”
“Oh, I am sorry to tell you, Gustav passed away a few years ago. To keep the company from being nationalized, we kept his passing as a state secret. I am afraid you are the very last of the Pitstop line…”
Penelope sighed, she hadn’t expected this. “So who is running the company? Word reached America that they were building airships that could bomb any capital in Europe and even American cities. The Pitstops on both sides of the war have been resisting the use of airships that could be used to bomb civilian cities.”
“I am head of the board of directors and, obviously, have been resisting the War Office’s demands for long range ships. The America Bomber class of zeppelins have pressurized crew cabins and can fly higher than any current aircraft and ground based gun can fire.” Sylvio was rightly proud of his flying machines. “They can carry twenty times the bomb load of either high explosives, incendiaries or gas than any of the current zeppelins in the war.”
“Oh, dear.” Penelope looked aghast at the mention of poison gas being unleashed on civilians.
“I’ll tell you what, Penelope,” Sylvio’s mind was clicking ahead. “You looked positively exhausted, why don’t you go and get some rest and I will take you to dinner at my club. It is a very discreet place and no one will look twice at you. There is a test flight planned for the prototype tomorrow. You and I can discuss what might be done…”
“Are you sure it will be safe for me to meet you? In a public club?” Penelope was tired and a proper dinner would be most welcome. Food rationing, even this far from the front, had meant very bland and meager meals, even for someone with money.
“Don’t worry Penelope, my club will be as safe as anywhere as long as I am around…” Sylvio let out a little chuckle at the irony. “Where are you staying?” Life would be far simpler if he could save himself the cost of a dinner and skip right to desert…
Penelope gave Sylvio a knowing smile, “I would rather not say. The walls have ears, you know…” She touched the side of her nose and gave him a disarming smile. Sylvio at once was confounded on how she managed to slip into the heavily guarded city wearing tight pink leather pants and jacket, at least until he saw her smile. He realized her smile would defeat any guard under 60 and she probably rode into the city in the backseat of a staff car laughing at some general’s attempt at humor.
“Very well, I will meet you at this address at eight?” She took the paper, her boxed up new outfit and stood to leave.
“You are so kind, Sylvio….Just as I remembered you…” She gave him a smile and headed out of his office.
As he watched her ass swaying towards the door, he wondered why he didn’t I try to fuck her way back when. He also wondered what size of ball gag would fit her and if he could get one to match her lipstick
Re: Luftschiff Pitstop (new Story)
Part 5
Sylvio paced up and down the sidewalk and looked at his watch. Penelope was running late and he smirked at the thought that someone else had gotten to her first. Lots of predators were lurking around Friedrichshafen, deserters, black marketeers, sociopaths for hire. With neutral Switzerland just across the lake the finest blackmarket goods were always available as were the most corruptible people to make sure they were moved easily and profitably.
With the war depleting the stock of available men, there were plenty of women available for what gangs of veterans, spies and deserters to choose from, but Penelope was a particularly fine specimen. Not knowing the city, she could be easily lured into any number of unfortunate situations…
Sylvio’s dick was hardening at the thought that somewhere, out in the city, a group of scoundrels might be making him a widower as paced back and forth, waiting for his lovely bride.
“Ah, the simplicity of life…” He spotted her coming up the sidewalk, her pink leather outfit covered in a drab wartime cloak.
“Gross Gott! Herr Sneakly!” Her German was excellent, but her charming Southern accent was unmistakable.
“Hello my dear!” Penelope gave him a peck on either cheek and turned to look at the building before them. “This is your private club? It doesn’t look like much.” Penelope read a small brass plack next to the door as they entered. “‘Fais ce que tu voudras’ Do what you will? What does that mean?”
“Ah, Penelope, my dear, it is the club motto… It simply means this place is a no judgement zone. Members and their guests may feel at ease to be themselves.” Sylvio took Penelope’s cloak and his coat and handed it to the scantily clad hostess that greeted them at the door. She was dressed in a bustier, panties, stockings and spiked leather collar. Another, similarly dressed hostess led them to Sneakly’s private table, just off to the side of a modest stage.
“No one will take a second look at your pink leathers here, and we can talk quite freely….”
“Are you sure?” Penelope looked around. Sylvio was right, her pink leather outfit did not stand out amongst the other guests, many of whom were wearing collars, corsets, flapper skirts right next to black ties and tales.
“Do you see that Priest in the black leather suit dining with the rather ugly lady in the silver evening gown? That is the Arch Bishop of Koln and the lady is actually an American from the Peace delegation across the lake in Switzerland…. I think his name is Hoover.” Sylvio offered Penelope a flute of champagne. “If they can be here on a date, I think you shall be fine…”
“If you are certain…. I would hate for that Hooded Claw fellow to show up again… Sylvio, what are we going to do about this new war Zeppelin you were telling me about? The one that can bomb New York? “ Penelope hesitated as a piercing wail came from outside, “What’s that noise, the siren?”
“That? That is an air raid warning… The French send Zeppelins over every night. They have tiny payloads and can only attack at night. They almost never hit anything. The American Bomber Zeppelins can fly higher than any airplane or gun can fire, so they can attack during the daytime. The Kaiser has ordered a fleet of one hundred to be built for attacks on America and England.”
“Oh, dear… And one is getting a test flight tomorrow?” Penelope brow furrowed. “I was told to either destroy it or to steal it. I can’t bear the thought of all the men needed to man a ship like that being killed, even if they are the enemy…” The tables vibrated with the shock waves of distant bombs.
“Then I guess we will have to steal it…” Sylvio had no intention of stealing his own baby. But Penelope didn’t need to know that. She wasn’t going to be around in the morning anyway…
As Penelope and Sylvio finished their meal, a tall and dashing man stepped to the edge of the stage “Ladies and Gentlemen, meine Damen und Herren, Mesdames et Messieurs,” he waved to the opening curtain and simply announced “For tonight’s entertainment….”
The curtain pulled back and revealed a man dressed as a jester and two lovely assistants dressed in colorful bodystockings and corsets. Their areola and nipples peeked out from the colorful red and black outfits. Each was wearing a theater mask, one for comedy, the other for tragedy. The man’s mask covered his eyes and depicted a furrowed, serious brow, which was at odds with the usually lighthearted tone of a jester. The nose protruded out into a long phallus.
Penelope was feeling a little lightheaded from the meal and the Champagne, which surprised her, she hadn’t thought she was over indulging.
Before Penelope knew what was happening the jester with the furrowed brow was leading Penelope on stage and turning her over to the two female assistants. They led her over to a large circular target that was on the opposite end of the stage.
Sylvio watched from his seat nearest the stage. He had enjoyed his effort to hang Penelope from the train and watching her plunge from 30,000 feet would be most entertaining, but an accident at a night club with him sitting in attendance was far less likely to draw attention to himself as a suspect in the demise of his new bride. Again, he was regretting not getting the opportunity to consummate his sham marriage. Maybe he would hire a blond hooker and dress her in some of Penelope’s leathers and fuck her brains out… along with a good choking…
Penelope was still groggily confused as the two Harliquins strapped to the large circular platform. Her legs and arms spread, a collar around her neck and a thick leather belt on her waist would keep her from struggling during the performance.
She was following all this preparation with a mildly confused detachment. She looked at the two masked women with a hint of recognition… she knew them from somewhere… recently… their eyes… the scent of perfume…. Penelope was connecting them with something recent….
Penelope connected the dots in her head and recognized the two nuns from the train. As she opened her mouth to call to Sylvio, a thick pink ball gag was shoved into place.
Suddenly, Penelope was fully awake, the situation was fully clear. The Hooded Claw had tracked her to the Hellfire Club and he and his henchwomen had switched out the evening’s entertainment. They had drugged either her food or her drink to make her more compliant while they lured her into a trap, right in front of the only person who knew the true purpose of her trip.
Sylvio sat at his table. He had added just the right amount of drugs to her champagne. She was tipsy and compliant and completely unaware the Widows were leading her to her execution. He would have like to have taken his place on stage, but at least he could appreciate the full scope of what was happening to his fake bride while ‘comforting’ himself from the sidelines….
His eyes were locked onto Penelope as she wriggled and squirmed on stage. He undid the fly on his trousers. He knew many of the men in the audience and more than a few women would also be doing the same… What none of them realized was that tonight’s show was going to go way farther than any other knife throwing act had at the Hellfire Club.
As Penelope squealed into her gag for help the masked Jester uncovered a table of weapons of varying sizes and types he picked up a bundle of ice picks, long thin metal stakes sharpened to a point. They were weightier than the usual hotel picks, more weight to throw with, hit harder with and penetrate deeper with… He flashed them around in front of the audience to indicate they were not just decorative props, but actual weapons.
With a deft motion of hand, wrist and shoulder, he launched one of the picks directly at the target. It struck with a resounding ‘thunk’ that immediately quieted the audience. It stuck solidly out of the wood just a foot to the side of Penelope's head almost midway between the center of her face and her cuffed wrist. With a lightening move, he fired a second one that landed perfectly in the same location on the other side of her head.
Before the audience had a second to react, he pitched the third pick down range it thunked hard and buried itself half way up to the handle between Penelope’s knees. As if to prove these were not flukes, the masked jester picked up another three and in rapid succession landing all three exactly half way between Penelope’s head and the earlier picks. The third and final pick landed halfway between Penelope’s spread knees and her leather clad crotch. The audience clapped approvingly as the Jester selected a series of knives from the clutter of the table.
Sylvio watched the Panic filling her eyes as the Jester lifted up his next set of blades. Penelope understood where this act was heading, even if the rest of the audience didn’t. Sylvio kept a hand wrapped around his own cock as he was watched each pick and blade moved closer and closer to the final separating moments of Penelope Pitstop and her vast family fortune.
The throwing knives alternated between each side of Penelope. First next to her ribs, then next to her slim waist. Sylvio had seen similar acts many times. Some of them were fakes with knives popping out of the targets. The real ones, the actually knife throwers would never land so many blades so close to a volunteer’s body,
He knew two things about this act. First, the knives were real, and second, the Jester had no fear of accidentally drawing blood. It was rather the point of the entire exercise… Four more knives bracketed the pretty blond target, each finishing on either side of long luxuriously leather clad legs. He lifted three more knives and aimed at the panting heroine’s face.
The fist hit so hard and so close to Penelope’s ear, that the sound made her ears ring. She glanced over only to find her nose almost touching the blade. The second hit just as hard as the first but on the other side. Switching from side hand to over hand, he landed the third blade just above her head.
The audience clapped appreciatively while Sylvio stroked his cock up and down beneath the table… This hired goon had been worth every penny. He was giving Penelope the show of her life. What a better way to end it?
For her part, Penelope was desperately trying pull her wrists free of the leather restraints. She could hear the laughter and clapping of the audience and Sylvio sitting at the stage side table watching her oblivious to her peril or the lethal intentions she was sure would eventually strike her down.
Coming through the blacked out windows of the club, Penelope could hear the whirring of Zeppelin engines and the whistling of bombs falling around the city.
She couldn’t be sure if the noise of the ship were actually closer or just the intensity of the moment made them seem so…
The Jester had cleared all the weapons from the table, except a collection of hatchets. They were the heaviest of weapons and Penelope also knew they would be the hardest to throw accurately. They would also give the most plausible deniability should one lodge in her head or chest.
Sylvio was stroking his cock fiercely under the table. He watched as the first hatchet struck hard under left armpit… Then he backed off slightly, wanting to save himself for the final moment of her life and the moment he was to become a very, very rich man…
The second axe hit hard under her right arm pit. His third and second to last hatchet whizzed perfectly straight down her midline impacting just below her spread womanhood. The rotation of the handle was so close that it actually thudded against her pussy while the sharp edge dug deeply into the wood inches away...
As the Jester picked up the final blade, Penelope closed her eyes and wondered where the killing blow would land. Center mass? Her heart? Or the center of her forehead? Would he kill her quick or leave her to bleed out from some massive wound? She kept her eyes closed tight to avoid seeing the killing move.
Sneakly couldn’t contain himself any longer as he watched the Jester take aim with the final axe. He felt himself ejaculating beneath the table. He gave his cock a couple of more gratifying pumps as his seed sprayed out secretly under the table, hidden from the other diners by the table cloth.
Sylvio paced up and down the sidewalk and looked at his watch. Penelope was running late and he smirked at the thought that someone else had gotten to her first. Lots of predators were lurking around Friedrichshafen, deserters, black marketeers, sociopaths for hire. With neutral Switzerland just across the lake the finest blackmarket goods were always available as were the most corruptible people to make sure they were moved easily and profitably.
With the war depleting the stock of available men, there were plenty of women available for what gangs of veterans, spies and deserters to choose from, but Penelope was a particularly fine specimen. Not knowing the city, she could be easily lured into any number of unfortunate situations…
Sylvio’s dick was hardening at the thought that somewhere, out in the city, a group of scoundrels might be making him a widower as paced back and forth, waiting for his lovely bride.
“Ah, the simplicity of life…” He spotted her coming up the sidewalk, her pink leather outfit covered in a drab wartime cloak.
“Gross Gott! Herr Sneakly!” Her German was excellent, but her charming Southern accent was unmistakable.
“Hello my dear!” Penelope gave him a peck on either cheek and turned to look at the building before them. “This is your private club? It doesn’t look like much.” Penelope read a small brass plack next to the door as they entered. “‘Fais ce que tu voudras’ Do what you will? What does that mean?”
“Ah, Penelope, my dear, it is the club motto… It simply means this place is a no judgement zone. Members and their guests may feel at ease to be themselves.” Sylvio took Penelope’s cloak and his coat and handed it to the scantily clad hostess that greeted them at the door. She was dressed in a bustier, panties, stockings and spiked leather collar. Another, similarly dressed hostess led them to Sneakly’s private table, just off to the side of a modest stage.
“No one will take a second look at your pink leathers here, and we can talk quite freely….”
“Are you sure?” Penelope looked around. Sylvio was right, her pink leather outfit did not stand out amongst the other guests, many of whom were wearing collars, corsets, flapper skirts right next to black ties and tales.
“Do you see that Priest in the black leather suit dining with the rather ugly lady in the silver evening gown? That is the Arch Bishop of Koln and the lady is actually an American from the Peace delegation across the lake in Switzerland…. I think his name is Hoover.” Sylvio offered Penelope a flute of champagne. “If they can be here on a date, I think you shall be fine…”
“If you are certain…. I would hate for that Hooded Claw fellow to show up again… Sylvio, what are we going to do about this new war Zeppelin you were telling me about? The one that can bomb New York? “ Penelope hesitated as a piercing wail came from outside, “What’s that noise, the siren?”
“That? That is an air raid warning… The French send Zeppelins over every night. They have tiny payloads and can only attack at night. They almost never hit anything. The American Bomber Zeppelins can fly higher than any airplane or gun can fire, so they can attack during the daytime. The Kaiser has ordered a fleet of one hundred to be built for attacks on America and England.”
“Oh, dear… And one is getting a test flight tomorrow?” Penelope brow furrowed. “I was told to either destroy it or to steal it. I can’t bear the thought of all the men needed to man a ship like that being killed, even if they are the enemy…” The tables vibrated with the shock waves of distant bombs.
“Then I guess we will have to steal it…” Sylvio had no intention of stealing his own baby. But Penelope didn’t need to know that. She wasn’t going to be around in the morning anyway…
As Penelope and Sylvio finished their meal, a tall and dashing man stepped to the edge of the stage “Ladies and Gentlemen, meine Damen und Herren, Mesdames et Messieurs,” he waved to the opening curtain and simply announced “For tonight’s entertainment….”
The curtain pulled back and revealed a man dressed as a jester and two lovely assistants dressed in colorful bodystockings and corsets. Their areola and nipples peeked out from the colorful red and black outfits. Each was wearing a theater mask, one for comedy, the other for tragedy. The man’s mask covered his eyes and depicted a furrowed, serious brow, which was at odds with the usually lighthearted tone of a jester. The nose protruded out into a long phallus.
Penelope was feeling a little lightheaded from the meal and the Champagne, which surprised her, she hadn’t thought she was over indulging.
Before Penelope knew what was happening the jester with the furrowed brow was leading Penelope on stage and turning her over to the two female assistants. They led her over to a large circular target that was on the opposite end of the stage.
Sylvio watched from his seat nearest the stage. He had enjoyed his effort to hang Penelope from the train and watching her plunge from 30,000 feet would be most entertaining, but an accident at a night club with him sitting in attendance was far less likely to draw attention to himself as a suspect in the demise of his new bride. Again, he was regretting not getting the opportunity to consummate his sham marriage. Maybe he would hire a blond hooker and dress her in some of Penelope’s leathers and fuck her brains out… along with a good choking…
Penelope was still groggily confused as the two Harliquins strapped to the large circular platform. Her legs and arms spread, a collar around her neck and a thick leather belt on her waist would keep her from struggling during the performance.
She was following all this preparation with a mildly confused detachment. She looked at the two masked women with a hint of recognition… she knew them from somewhere… recently… their eyes… the scent of perfume…. Penelope was connecting them with something recent….
Penelope connected the dots in her head and recognized the two nuns from the train. As she opened her mouth to call to Sylvio, a thick pink ball gag was shoved into place.
Suddenly, Penelope was fully awake, the situation was fully clear. The Hooded Claw had tracked her to the Hellfire Club and he and his henchwomen had switched out the evening’s entertainment. They had drugged either her food or her drink to make her more compliant while they lured her into a trap, right in front of the only person who knew the true purpose of her trip.
Sylvio sat at his table. He had added just the right amount of drugs to her champagne. She was tipsy and compliant and completely unaware the Widows were leading her to her execution. He would have like to have taken his place on stage, but at least he could appreciate the full scope of what was happening to his fake bride while ‘comforting’ himself from the sidelines….
His eyes were locked onto Penelope as she wriggled and squirmed on stage. He undid the fly on his trousers. He knew many of the men in the audience and more than a few women would also be doing the same… What none of them realized was that tonight’s show was going to go way farther than any other knife throwing act had at the Hellfire Club.
As Penelope squealed into her gag for help the masked Jester uncovered a table of weapons of varying sizes and types he picked up a bundle of ice picks, long thin metal stakes sharpened to a point. They were weightier than the usual hotel picks, more weight to throw with, hit harder with and penetrate deeper with… He flashed them around in front of the audience to indicate they were not just decorative props, but actual weapons.
With a deft motion of hand, wrist and shoulder, he launched one of the picks directly at the target. It struck with a resounding ‘thunk’ that immediately quieted the audience. It stuck solidly out of the wood just a foot to the side of Penelope's head almost midway between the center of her face and her cuffed wrist. With a lightening move, he fired a second one that landed perfectly in the same location on the other side of her head.
Before the audience had a second to react, he pitched the third pick down range it thunked hard and buried itself half way up to the handle between Penelope’s knees. As if to prove these were not flukes, the masked jester picked up another three and in rapid succession landing all three exactly half way between Penelope’s head and the earlier picks. The third and final pick landed halfway between Penelope’s spread knees and her leather clad crotch. The audience clapped approvingly as the Jester selected a series of knives from the clutter of the table.
Sylvio watched the Panic filling her eyes as the Jester lifted up his next set of blades. Penelope understood where this act was heading, even if the rest of the audience didn’t. Sylvio kept a hand wrapped around his own cock as he was watched each pick and blade moved closer and closer to the final separating moments of Penelope Pitstop and her vast family fortune.
The throwing knives alternated between each side of Penelope. First next to her ribs, then next to her slim waist. Sylvio had seen similar acts many times. Some of them were fakes with knives popping out of the targets. The real ones, the actually knife throwers would never land so many blades so close to a volunteer’s body,
He knew two things about this act. First, the knives were real, and second, the Jester had no fear of accidentally drawing blood. It was rather the point of the entire exercise… Four more knives bracketed the pretty blond target, each finishing on either side of long luxuriously leather clad legs. He lifted three more knives and aimed at the panting heroine’s face.
The fist hit so hard and so close to Penelope’s ear, that the sound made her ears ring. She glanced over only to find her nose almost touching the blade. The second hit just as hard as the first but on the other side. Switching from side hand to over hand, he landed the third blade just above her head.
The audience clapped appreciatively while Sylvio stroked his cock up and down beneath the table… This hired goon had been worth every penny. He was giving Penelope the show of her life. What a better way to end it?
For her part, Penelope was desperately trying pull her wrists free of the leather restraints. She could hear the laughter and clapping of the audience and Sylvio sitting at the stage side table watching her oblivious to her peril or the lethal intentions she was sure would eventually strike her down.
Coming through the blacked out windows of the club, Penelope could hear the whirring of Zeppelin engines and the whistling of bombs falling around the city.
She couldn’t be sure if the noise of the ship were actually closer or just the intensity of the moment made them seem so…
The Jester had cleared all the weapons from the table, except a collection of hatchets. They were the heaviest of weapons and Penelope also knew they would be the hardest to throw accurately. They would also give the most plausible deniability should one lodge in her head or chest.
Sylvio was stroking his cock fiercely under the table. He watched as the first hatchet struck hard under left armpit… Then he backed off slightly, wanting to save himself for the final moment of her life and the moment he was to become a very, very rich man…
The second axe hit hard under her right arm pit. His third and second to last hatchet whizzed perfectly straight down her midline impacting just below her spread womanhood. The rotation of the handle was so close that it actually thudded against her pussy while the sharp edge dug deeply into the wood inches away...
As the Jester picked up the final blade, Penelope closed her eyes and wondered where the killing blow would land. Center mass? Her heart? Or the center of her forehead? Would he kill her quick or leave her to bleed out from some massive wound? She kept her eyes closed tight to avoid seeing the killing move.
Sneakly couldn’t contain himself any longer as he watched the Jester take aim with the final axe. He felt himself ejaculating beneath the table. He gave his cock a couple of more gratifying pumps as his seed sprayed out secretly under the table, hidden from the other diners by the table cloth.
Re: Luftschiff Pitstop (new Story)
Part 6
Penelope clenched her eyes closed as she awaited the next, and final axe to be thrown. Her arms were exhausted after hanging from the leather manacles on the giant wooden target. She could feel axe hand pressed hard against her crotch. Knives, axes and ice picks surrounded her body. The recognition that the two harlequins strapping her to the wooden target had chased the drowsy fatigue out of her almost instantly. But there was nothing she could do but wait for the final, fatal blow to arrive.
Sneakly’s cock was still throbbing out cum as he waited breathlessly for the final coup de gras separating Penelope from her fortune and taking him to a new stratosphere of wealth.
As his dick pulsed quietly with last moments of pleasure and the wait for the last gasps of life from the woman he had only so briefly courted, there was another sound.
In an area behind the stage there was crashing as something large and heavy passed though the ceiling of the Hellfire Club. As soon as it penetrated the ceiling, it passed down through the floor. And continued straight past the diners, performers and wait staff. At the same instance the bomb reached the bottom floor of the building, the timed delay fuse exploded, sending a shock wave up through the building.
The Jester, who at that moment was in process of releasing his final killing axe, was blown off to the side. He and his aim were obliterated by the concussion of the blast.
Sylvio sat up from the floor of the club. His head was ringing and he was dazed and confused. He looked directly next to where he had been sitting. Most of the stage and the wall of the building were gone. The Jester was nowhere to be seen. The big wooden target was still covered in a variety of knives, and axes were now laying face up on the floor. Smoke was rising from the basement crater.
The two Widows were climbing out from under a pile of chairs and debris from behind where the backstage had been. They looked around dazed.
“Where is she?” Sylvio demanded. The two women, still dressed in their Harlequin outfits, stumbled around trying to find something, but they had no idea what it was or where it had gone.
“Where did she go?” Sylvio demanded again.
“Who?” The Widows asked in unison.
“Penelope, you ingrates! Penelope! Fucking! Pitstop!” Sylvio made his way over to the edge of the hole and looked down at the fire from a burning gas main.
Most of the guests and members of the Hellfire Club were stumbling out of the debris and quickly disappearing into the evening, eager to avoid the notoriety associated with nearly being blown up with the building.
The lone death in the building seemed to have been the knife thrower Sneakly had hired to take care of Penelope. A few bits of him were found in the surrounding streets. “Well, at least I won’t have to pay him for fucking this up,” was Sylvio’s only consolation.
“How are we going to find the girl?” Eva asked as she threw her shattered mask back into the smoking hole.
“We don’t know where she is staying, but at least, I think I know where she is going to be in the morning….” Sylvio chuckled unnecessarily, “At least I hope she will show up….”
++++++++++++++++
Sylvio stood in the gondola of the Luftshiff Schnellendor. He had a pair of binoculars as did his two female companions, the Widows. Both women were disguised as German corporals, ill fitting woolen uniforms. Their dark hair had been tied up and shoved under their capis. Fortunately for Sylvio, it was not uncommon to have female soldiers working as drivers this late in the war. He scanned the distance for signs of Penelope approaching.
“So why, Herr Claw, did you tell Fraulein Penelope that you would help her steal the Kaiser’s largest Zeppelin?” Sylvio lowered his glasses.
“Because, you stupid cunt, I thought she was going to be dead in fifteen minutes.” Sylvio put up his glasses and continued to scan the edge of the field for signs of the girl. “I need her dead to take over ownership of Schnellendor-Pitstop Ghmb and Pitstop Enterprises in the US. If the Geheime Staatspolizei get a hold of her, they’ll shoot her and I will be a bureaucrat running a state owned business until I am either purged or pensioned. If I can get rid of her myself, I will be the sole owner of the largest aircraft companies in Germany and America and everything else the Pitstops have ever touched….”
“I think she is coming!” Elsa pointed down the airfield. Eva and Sylvio directed their binoculars in the direction Elsa was pointing.
In the distance, a cloud of dust came up from behind a speeding motor cycle.
“Where did she get a motorcycle?” Sylvio wondered. He kept his binoculars trained on the little pink dot approaching at high speed.
“Probably the same place she got the gun!” Eva noted. Sylvio adjusted the focus of his glasses and could suddenly see Penelope leaning over the handle bars of her motorcycle, a knapsack on her back. Behind her were a pair of cars and two more motorcycles. Leaning from the windows of the cars were men with machine pistols firing at her.
Penelope reached around and fired back at them. A bullet struck the front of the nearest car and punctured the radiator. Steam billowed from the engine as the car slowed and fell back. One of the motor bikes was gaining on Penelope and as it pulled alongside her, she used her bike to bump him. After she made contact with him, her bike wobbled briefly while the other bike tumbled into the dirt of the aerodrome. Once she had regained control of her bike, Penelope accelerated and the front wheel of her machine lifted off the dirt runway as she surged forward.
Sylvio saw the other pursuers gaining on Penelope despite her best efforts.
“Herr Kapitan, prepare to cast off! As soon as our guest is on board!!” Sylvio jumped to one of the blister turrets on the side of the gondola and lifted up the twin anti-aircraft machine guns and started firing at the remaining pursuers.
As soon as machinegun fire started to erupt from the gondola of the Zeppelin, the cars and remaining motorcycle stopped short. They fired their hand guns at Penelope and the Zeppelin, but they were too far away to have any effect.
As soon as Penelope reached the ladder to board the Zeppelin, Sylvio let go of the machinegun.
“What are we going to do, Herr Claw?” Elsa and Eva pointing their guns at the gondola crew to make sure they did as ordered.
“It looks like we are going to America” Sylvio looked at the shocked faces of the Kaptain and his bridge crew. He pointed to his two hench women and said. “Get up to the crew quarters and lock yourselves in. Don’t let Pitstop see you and don’t shoot any of the crew…
Penelope climbed up to the bridge of the Luftschiff Schellendor. Sylvio tried to greet her as non-challantly as possible.
“Welcome aboard Penelope, may I introduce you to the commander of the Luftschiff Schnellendor, Herr Kapitan Otto Feigling. Herr Kapitan, may I present to you, Fraulein Penelope Pitsop, sole heir to the Schnellendor-Pitstop Fortune and owner of Schnellendor-Pitstop Gmhb, which includes this fine aerial vessel.” The young Kapitan gave a smart click of his heels and a curt bow.
“I am honored Fraulein. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” The Kapitan smiled at Penelope. Sylvio had guessed that Penelope would be the most effective tool in stealing the ship. She gave the Kapitan a warm southern smile, un-did her helmet and shook out her long flowing hair.
“I have been on a tour to inspect the Pitstop holdings across Europe and make sure that our enterprises are following the guiding principles set out at the beginning of the war by my father and my uncle.” Penelope didn’t need to be told how to handle the young officer. She had been raised to charm her way through life, hardly ever needing anything beyond her Southern drawl and a pretty smile to get what she needed.
“I do apologize for my late arrival. I was having some difficulties with some nice young men at the security perimeter. I decided I should borrow one of their fine motorcycles to make up for some of the lost time.” She smiled at the bridge crew, “I do so appreciate ya’ll waiting for me to get aboard before departing this lil’ ol’ aerodrome….”
“Think nothing of it, Fraulein. It is our pleasure to have the niece of Gustov von Scnellendor-Pitstop as a guest on our Luftschiff. I crewed on several aircraft for your uncle when I was younger. There was not a finer aviator in all of Austro-Hungary. I understand that you have had quite the distinguished career in aviation, also….” He offered his arm to Penelope and led her to the helm. “That was quite some riding I saw you doing. The Gestapo are always over reacting, especially with this blasted war dragging on and on.”
Sneakly was surprised that it went as well as it did. He expected more protests from the Kapitan after he started machine-gunning policemen. Despite having been running the largest Luftschiffbau in Europe, Sylvio could not keep up with detailed discussion of aeronautics between Penelope and the Kapitan. Realizing that he was going to be the third wheel on the tour of the Zeppelin and Penelope was already sweet talking the crew into changing their navigational headings south to pass over neutral Spain and Portugal, Sneakily decided he would seek out his two henchwomen and figure out what to do about Penelope once they were safely out of reach of land.
Penelope clenched her eyes closed as she awaited the next, and final axe to be thrown. Her arms were exhausted after hanging from the leather manacles on the giant wooden target. She could feel axe hand pressed hard against her crotch. Knives, axes and ice picks surrounded her body. The recognition that the two harlequins strapping her to the wooden target had chased the drowsy fatigue out of her almost instantly. But there was nothing she could do but wait for the final, fatal blow to arrive.
Sneakly’s cock was still throbbing out cum as he waited breathlessly for the final coup de gras separating Penelope from her fortune and taking him to a new stratosphere of wealth.
As his dick pulsed quietly with last moments of pleasure and the wait for the last gasps of life from the woman he had only so briefly courted, there was another sound.
In an area behind the stage there was crashing as something large and heavy passed though the ceiling of the Hellfire Club. As soon as it penetrated the ceiling, it passed down through the floor. And continued straight past the diners, performers and wait staff. At the same instance the bomb reached the bottom floor of the building, the timed delay fuse exploded, sending a shock wave up through the building.
The Jester, who at that moment was in process of releasing his final killing axe, was blown off to the side. He and his aim were obliterated by the concussion of the blast.
Sylvio sat up from the floor of the club. His head was ringing and he was dazed and confused. He looked directly next to where he had been sitting. Most of the stage and the wall of the building were gone. The Jester was nowhere to be seen. The big wooden target was still covered in a variety of knives, and axes were now laying face up on the floor. Smoke was rising from the basement crater.
The two Widows were climbing out from under a pile of chairs and debris from behind where the backstage had been. They looked around dazed.
“Where is she?” Sylvio demanded. The two women, still dressed in their Harlequin outfits, stumbled around trying to find something, but they had no idea what it was or where it had gone.
“Where did she go?” Sylvio demanded again.
“Who?” The Widows asked in unison.
“Penelope, you ingrates! Penelope! Fucking! Pitstop!” Sylvio made his way over to the edge of the hole and looked down at the fire from a burning gas main.
Most of the guests and members of the Hellfire Club were stumbling out of the debris and quickly disappearing into the evening, eager to avoid the notoriety associated with nearly being blown up with the building.
The lone death in the building seemed to have been the knife thrower Sneakly had hired to take care of Penelope. A few bits of him were found in the surrounding streets. “Well, at least I won’t have to pay him for fucking this up,” was Sylvio’s only consolation.
“How are we going to find the girl?” Eva asked as she threw her shattered mask back into the smoking hole.
“We don’t know where she is staying, but at least, I think I know where she is going to be in the morning….” Sylvio chuckled unnecessarily, “At least I hope she will show up….”
++++++++++++++++
Sylvio stood in the gondola of the Luftshiff Schnellendor. He had a pair of binoculars as did his two female companions, the Widows. Both women were disguised as German corporals, ill fitting woolen uniforms. Their dark hair had been tied up and shoved under their capis. Fortunately for Sylvio, it was not uncommon to have female soldiers working as drivers this late in the war. He scanned the distance for signs of Penelope approaching.
“So why, Herr Claw, did you tell Fraulein Penelope that you would help her steal the Kaiser’s largest Zeppelin?” Sylvio lowered his glasses.
“Because, you stupid cunt, I thought she was going to be dead in fifteen minutes.” Sylvio put up his glasses and continued to scan the edge of the field for signs of the girl. “I need her dead to take over ownership of Schnellendor-Pitstop Ghmb and Pitstop Enterprises in the US. If the Geheime Staatspolizei get a hold of her, they’ll shoot her and I will be a bureaucrat running a state owned business until I am either purged or pensioned. If I can get rid of her myself, I will be the sole owner of the largest aircraft companies in Germany and America and everything else the Pitstops have ever touched….”
“I think she is coming!” Elsa pointed down the airfield. Eva and Sylvio directed their binoculars in the direction Elsa was pointing.
In the distance, a cloud of dust came up from behind a speeding motor cycle.
“Where did she get a motorcycle?” Sylvio wondered. He kept his binoculars trained on the little pink dot approaching at high speed.
“Probably the same place she got the gun!” Eva noted. Sylvio adjusted the focus of his glasses and could suddenly see Penelope leaning over the handle bars of her motorcycle, a knapsack on her back. Behind her were a pair of cars and two more motorcycles. Leaning from the windows of the cars were men with machine pistols firing at her.
Penelope reached around and fired back at them. A bullet struck the front of the nearest car and punctured the radiator. Steam billowed from the engine as the car slowed and fell back. One of the motor bikes was gaining on Penelope and as it pulled alongside her, she used her bike to bump him. After she made contact with him, her bike wobbled briefly while the other bike tumbled into the dirt of the aerodrome. Once she had regained control of her bike, Penelope accelerated and the front wheel of her machine lifted off the dirt runway as she surged forward.
Sylvio saw the other pursuers gaining on Penelope despite her best efforts.
“Herr Kapitan, prepare to cast off! As soon as our guest is on board!!” Sylvio jumped to one of the blister turrets on the side of the gondola and lifted up the twin anti-aircraft machine guns and started firing at the remaining pursuers.
As soon as machinegun fire started to erupt from the gondola of the Zeppelin, the cars and remaining motorcycle stopped short. They fired their hand guns at Penelope and the Zeppelin, but they were too far away to have any effect.
As soon as Penelope reached the ladder to board the Zeppelin, Sylvio let go of the machinegun.
“What are we going to do, Herr Claw?” Elsa and Eva pointing their guns at the gondola crew to make sure they did as ordered.
“It looks like we are going to America” Sylvio looked at the shocked faces of the Kaptain and his bridge crew. He pointed to his two hench women and said. “Get up to the crew quarters and lock yourselves in. Don’t let Pitstop see you and don’t shoot any of the crew…
Penelope climbed up to the bridge of the Luftschiff Schellendor. Sylvio tried to greet her as non-challantly as possible.
“Welcome aboard Penelope, may I introduce you to the commander of the Luftschiff Schnellendor, Herr Kapitan Otto Feigling. Herr Kapitan, may I present to you, Fraulein Penelope Pitsop, sole heir to the Schnellendor-Pitstop Fortune and owner of Schnellendor-Pitstop Gmhb, which includes this fine aerial vessel.” The young Kapitan gave a smart click of his heels and a curt bow.
“I am honored Fraulein. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” The Kapitan smiled at Penelope. Sylvio had guessed that Penelope would be the most effective tool in stealing the ship. She gave the Kapitan a warm southern smile, un-did her helmet and shook out her long flowing hair.
“I have been on a tour to inspect the Pitstop holdings across Europe and make sure that our enterprises are following the guiding principles set out at the beginning of the war by my father and my uncle.” Penelope didn’t need to be told how to handle the young officer. She had been raised to charm her way through life, hardly ever needing anything beyond her Southern drawl and a pretty smile to get what she needed.
“I do apologize for my late arrival. I was having some difficulties with some nice young men at the security perimeter. I decided I should borrow one of their fine motorcycles to make up for some of the lost time.” She smiled at the bridge crew, “I do so appreciate ya’ll waiting for me to get aboard before departing this lil’ ol’ aerodrome….”
“Think nothing of it, Fraulein. It is our pleasure to have the niece of Gustov von Scnellendor-Pitstop as a guest on our Luftschiff. I crewed on several aircraft for your uncle when I was younger. There was not a finer aviator in all of Austro-Hungary. I understand that you have had quite the distinguished career in aviation, also….” He offered his arm to Penelope and led her to the helm. “That was quite some riding I saw you doing. The Gestapo are always over reacting, especially with this blasted war dragging on and on.”
Sneakly was surprised that it went as well as it did. He expected more protests from the Kapitan after he started machine-gunning policemen. Despite having been running the largest Luftschiffbau in Europe, Sylvio could not keep up with detailed discussion of aeronautics between Penelope and the Kapitan. Realizing that he was going to be the third wheel on the tour of the Zeppelin and Penelope was already sweet talking the crew into changing their navigational headings south to pass over neutral Spain and Portugal, Sneakily decided he would seek out his two henchwomen and figure out what to do about Penelope once they were safely out of reach of land.