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Der Meißel der Seele	By : Wertiyurae Category: G through L > Hogan's Heroes Views: 1600 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the television series that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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- 7
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“You can get dressed now, Wilhelm.”
It took a moment for Klink to realize he’d been spoken to. He felt dazed, as though he was seeing and hearing everything from under layers of cotton. The same could not be said for the aches he felt in his back and stomach or the pain in his rear - he could feel those quite well.
“I said you can get dressed, Wilhelm,” General Adler repeated in a tone that could have been mistaken for caring or tender by someone who didn’t know what kind of man he was and what he was capable of.
Unfortunately, Klink did know what sort of man he was and he wasn’t fooled for a moment.
Klink opened his eyes and bit back a sigh. When was this going to be over? With more effort than he thought it should have taken, he stood up straight again, feeling his back protest the movement. He was only grateful that he wasn’t facing General Adler. That beast’s face was the last thing Klink needed to see after he’d -
‘Don’t think about it.’
Doing his best to ignore the pain in his backside, he bent down and pulled up his pants. Buttoning them, he noticed that his hands were shaking. He tried to make them stop but they seemed to be beyond his control. It seemed that no part of his body was listening to him tonight.
“Turn around; let me look at you.”
Reluctantly, Klink did so. In the dim light, he could see that General Adler had already dressed and that he was wiping his hands on a handkerchief. His stomach lurched at the silent reminder of what he’d done.
“You look almost presentable again,” the General chuckled as he put the handkerchief in his pocket. Then he grinned, showing too many teeth.” See, Wilhelm? I told you that you’d enjoy yourself, didn’t I?”
Klink glared at him but said nothing. What was there to say? He didn’t want to give the swine the satisfaction of a ‘yes’ answer but . . . He could hardly deny it, could he? Not when he ejaculated into the General’s hand. All he could do was wonder when he’d become the sort of man who got pleasure from being hurt. The sort of man who enjoyed being molested by someone he despised.
“Didn’t I?”
There was an edge to General Adler’s voice but Klink could not bring himself to care very much about it. He was far too busy trying to steer his thoughts in a less distressing direction, so as not to vomit, to care about the General’s growing displeasure and what would happen once he lost his temper.
It hadn’t taken long. Klink watched impassively as the General brought his hand back and slapped him again. The force of it made his ears ring but it saved him the trouble of having to turn his head to look away. Had to stay optimistic.
“Answer the question!”
Klink closed his eyes. ‘Might as well give him what he wants,’ he thought tiredly. It wasn’t as though he had much to lose now by answering, did he? It wasn’t as though he’d be losing any self-respect - the General had already done a fine job of taking most of that away already.
It was a little late to worry about denying General Adler any satisfaction.
And he knew the sooner he answered the question, the sooner the General would leave. Seemed like a fair trade for what pride he’d managed to salvage after his experience. “Yes.”
“Yes what? Be precise.”
‘Just give him what he wants. Just give him what he wants and he’ll leave.’ “Yes, you said that I’d,” Klink’s stomach lurched again and he swallowed hard. He didn’t have very much self-respect left (an understatement if anything) but he had enough that he didn’t want to be sick while the General was still here. There hadn’t been much he’d been able to do tonight, but he thought he’d be satisfied if he could just do that much. “I’d . . . enjoy m-myself.”
General Adler reached out his hand and grabbed Klink’s chin, forcing Klink to look at him again. “Don’t worry, Wilhelm,” he said with a compassion that was betrayed by the cruel pleasure shining in his eyes, “it will be easier next time, you’ll see.”
The General leaned in to kiss him again but Klink pushed him away, his panic over the phrase ‘next time’ and what that might mean giving him enough desperate courage that he didn’t care what General Adler’s reaction might be.
“Next time? Wh-what do you mean next time?"
For a split second, the General looked like he was going to do something violent before he smiled an oily smile. “The use of your body for the safe keeping of your secrets, remember?” Not waiting for an answer, he pinned Klink against the desk again, placing his hands to either side to stop him from slipping away. “You are mine,” he hissed, bringing his face so close that Klink’s nose touched his. “You are mine until I decide I’m done with you.” His voice became a dangerous whisper. “Understand?”
Klink suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. Dear God. This wasn’t over. This wasn’t over. It’d never be over. It’d been bad enough when he’d thought that it was just going to be this once - to do this again and again? To let that, that fiend defile him over and over? He’d rather die! He’d rather -
No! What was he thinking! He wouldn’t rather die . . . would he?
General Adler seemed genuinely confused. “No? What do you mean no?” Then his voice became as sharp as the glint in his eye. “You better have a good answer, Klink.”
Realizing what had happened, and not anxious to be hit again if he could avoid it, Klink waved his hands frantically. “No, I wasn’t talking to you, General! I was talking to myself. I was just thinking out loud!”
“Really?” The General didn’t look as if he quite believed this but he shrugged. “Very well, Wilhelm, I will take your word for it.” He smiled. “Now, then, I do have other things to attend to.” After giving Klink a quick kiss on the lips, he went to the door and unlocked it. Then he turned back and bowed his head slightly. “Until tomorrow, Wilhelm.”
Once the door shut behind him, Klink limped over to the chair on the other side of the desk and fell into it, wincing as the movement jarred his sore backside. Now what was he going to do? He hadn’t been prepared for any of this before; he felt even less so now.
‘Next time.’ How many next times were there going to be? How many times would General Adler make him pay? How long would it take for him to decide that he was ‘done’? Weeks? Months? Years? Would he have to do this for the rest of his life? Would he -
Finally, Klink’s long suffering stomach rebelled. It was only a matter of luck that he’d managed to vomit on the floor rather than on himself. His stomach emptied quickly (by virtue of the fact there hadn’t been much in it in the first place) and, once the heaves stopped, he sat back in the chair, breathing in great gulps of air and trying to hold back his growing panic. He had to be calm. He had to be calm. He had to be -
Oh, who was he trying to fool? He had a hard time being calm when the stakes were small; there was no way he’d be able to be calm about something like this. Besides, being calm wasn’t going to make General Adler change his mind about ‘next time’. It wouldn’t make the General tire of him any sooner. And it wouldn’t keep the General from calling the deal in as many times as he wished.
‘But why are you getting so upset about it?’ a dark side of him questioned in a nasty tone. Hadn’t he enjoyed what General Adler had done to him? Wasn’t he the sort of man who found pleasure from being degraded and in pain? The General’s hands had felt like worms on his skin and he’d still lost control. Clearly, he was a sick, sick man.
In all the years he’d been old enough to care about such things, Klink had thought that he’d come to know himself quite well. Come to know who he was and what he liked. Who he liked. And now? Now it turned out that he’d been lying to himself the whole time. It turned out that he was nothing but a deviant with a disgusting fetish.
Maybe he would have been better off with the Gestapo. At least with them, he could have died believing that he was a man instead of whatever it was that he was now. Maybe it would have been better . . .
He shook his head with a sigh. No, couldn’t believe that. He couldn’t think that he’d be better off dead than where he’d found himself. He simply couldn’t. If he did, then what was the point in having done this in the first place? Klink couldn’t bear the thought of enduring this much humiliation for nothing. He had to believe that his life still held some value.
And he did believe . . . it just seemed as though his life had held more value in the afternoon than it did now.
Klink felt tears dripping down his face and he swiped at them without much conviction. Some part of him was scolding him, telling him that he shouldn’t be letting himself cry like this - what sort of man blubbered like a baby? - but he felt too exhausted to worry about something so petty right then.
Instead, he surveyed his office. Even in the dim light, he could see that it was a disaster. A complete disaster. And he knew that there would be questions in the morning if he didn’t at least attempt to do something about it now. Slowly, mindful of his aches, he stood and limped his way over to the switch for the main lights. He wanted to be able to see what he was doing.
On his way, he heard a crunching sound as he stepped down. Carefully bending over, he picked up the cold, round object and saw that it was his monocle. He stared at it for a moment before deciding that it was probably a lost cause. Fortunately, he had spares for just this sort of occasion.
Of course, he’d have to make sure to take off the new monocle himself next time or else he’d be libel to run out of spares . . .
He resisted the urge to slap himself with difficulty. With everything he had to worry about, he was worried about running out of spare monocles? He could see where monocles were much higher on the priority list than, say, the fact that there was going to be a next time in the first place. Yes, that certainly made sense!
Laughter came out of nowhere and it took Klink a second or two to realize that he was the one that was laughing. His thoughts didn’t really warrant any kind of laughter, but he decided he didn’t care. Laughing hysterically felt a lot better than crying even if the laughter didn’t sound quite sane.
At the same time, he changed direction and limped towards his quarters instead. Honestly, he thought he had more important things to be concerned with than the cleanliness of his office. Who did he think was going to ask questions, anyway? No one would care.
Besides, Klink felt filthy and he wanted to try and wash as much General Adler off his skin and out of his body as he could. Maybe then he could go to sleep and forget for awhile just what sort of mess he’d managed to get himself into. In his opinion, that was much more important than cleaning an office.
After all, the things on the floor were perfectly capable of taking care of themselves until morning.
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- 7
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Der Meißel der Seele