Chuck and Petra lived in our leased housing building in Neckargartach, a suburb of Heilbronn, Germany. Chuck was a surveyor in an artillery unit, one of those "low density" jobs. That means he was the only person with that specialty in his unit. He was a small guy with an average build, and very meek, almost submissive.
He married a German girl named Petra, who was his personality opposite. She was a stone cold German bitch. She had a hair trigger temper, and a mouth to match. How Chuck ever married her was the subject of much speculation. Most of us wondered if she was the only person who he had ever had sex with.
Chuck bought Petra a toy poodle for companionship when he was in the field. She would take this poor dog outside to do its business. If the little guy didn't go quickly enough for her, she would lean over and yell at the dog, "Shit, damn you! Shit." Eventually he learned to bow up and crap. She was a serious ball breaker.
Chuck and Petra occasionally came to our apartment to play cards or just party with us. Petra spoke excellent, albeit heavily accented English, and we wondered if Chuck was her escape to America, since she was not close to any family and had no German friends that we could perceive. She played the German bitch to the hilt.
Petra, when she didn't have her mouth screwed into a scowl, was cute, about 5'2" with a very narrow waist, nice C-cup breasts which she didn't strap down very often, a "just the right size to grab," pleasantly rounded butt, and the obligatory natural blond hair. Her attitude just made her ugly though. She could piss a person off just by looking at them.
Several of our friends had commented to Mandi and I about what a bitch she was, and generally avoided talking to her lest she suddenly begin a 10-minute rant about whatever seemed to piss her off. Chuck would usually just sit there, casually smiling in his "Gosh Gee Whiz" sort of way. He never seemed to want to get into the mix and try to cool her out.
One evening though, when several of my subordinates were at our apartment partying, she got her first comeuppance. She burst into one of her typical rants, bitching about who knows what, generally making life miserable for anyone within earshot, when one of my guys came over to me and quietly asked, "What should we do with this bitch to pay her back?"
I wasn't sure what he had in mind, and asked, "You got any ideas?"
He gave me a leering grin and said, "Let's strip her naked and make her sit here with us until she stops her fucking bitching!"
I wasn't sure how Chuck would handle this, but considering that he was a milk toast kind of guy, he probably wouldn't do anything about it. It could also be advantageous because they might decide not to hang out with us so much.
I told my guy, "Let me talk to Chuck and see what he thinks."
I eased over to Chuck, who didn't appear to be feeling any pain after several Stuttgarter Hofbrau beers, and told him that some of my boys were pissed at Petra, and were wanting to shut her up for a few. I added that they intended to strip her naked, and not give her clothes back until she quit her incessant bitching. To my surprise, he just smiled and nodded his consent.
I looked over at my boy and nodded to him, and it was on. Four of the guys casually strolled over and around where Petra sat on the end of my Cleopatra lounger (a wonderful piece of furniture for sex, I might add). With little less than a wink, one guy grabbed her beer from her hand and they grabbed her arms and legs and proceeded to quickly but carefully strip her clothes off.
Petra screamed and cursed in English and German, cursed Chuck, but all to no avail. They had her naked within seconds, handing me her clothes. She was livid, and once they released her, she stood in the middle of the living room floor, screaming about her vile treatment. I took her beer and handed it back to her.
Petra snatched the beer from me and took a long swallow. As she finished, I began to talk to her quietly, saying, "Would you please listen to me for a minute." She just looked me defiantly, and began cursing again. In the mean time, Mandi had casually ducked out of the room with one of the wives of another of my guys.
Petra demanded her clothes back. I have to say she looked fine naked. She had really nice breasts, with little sag. While they weren't as big as I originally thought, more a large B-cup, they had small areole and cute, fully erect nipples. Her ass turned out to be well shaped, just right for grab and grip. She had blond, almost sparse pubic hair without any obvious signs of barbering. Typical of many German girls, she also had light blond armpit hair.
I tried somewhat futilely to not stare at her body, without much luck. I spoke to her quietly, though, and told her she wouldn't get her clothes back until she shut up and didn't bitch about anything or anyone for 10 minutes.
Petra glared at me with a look that had her ripping my cock and balls off. She swallowed the last of her beer, started to speak, and then turned toward Chuck with a look that said his were the cock and balls that would soon be liberated. He cringed as she turned back toward me.
"So, you think you can just get away with this?"
I chuckled and replied, "I'm not sure what I am getting away with, but you have to understand this: You will not get your clothes back until you shut up and not say anything nasty, or bitchy, for 10 minutes. After that, you can put them back on."
During all this, after the initial struggle, she didn't seem the least bit perturbed about standing stark naked in the middle of a bunch of hard-boned, muscular military guys. Frankly, her nipples told another story. I noticed this but kept it to myself.
She sputtered a bit, and then told me, in an almost subdued voice, "I need another beer."
I pointed toward the door to the balcony and told her, "You know where they are."
"But I have to go outside," she whined.
"Then you don't drink more beer," I whined back.
Considering that our apartment was at the very top of an 8-floor apartment building, there was little chance of anyone seeing her on the balcony, especially since there were no outside lights. She finally glared at me, shrugged, and casually strolled out onto the balcony and got another beer. She grabbed an opener, popped the cap and sat back down on the end of the Cleopatra lounger.
She sipped her beer, and I pointed at my watch and told her, "9 minutes now."
Mandi and her friend came back in the room, chuckled about Petra sitting there naked but quiet, and started talking to some other people there. I put some more tunes on the stereo and sat in my single chair. The conversation picked back up, and no one was giving Petra any obvious undue attention.
Chuck got a refill, and sat back down. Petra followed him across the room and back but he refused to look at her. As she sat there, though, she finally caught my eye, and almost imperceptibly, spread her legs so I could see her pussy lips quite clearly. After glancing around, she casually slid her finger between her pussy lips, and pulled the finger back out and licked it.
No one else saw this, and I was quite interested, although I was also wary of a trap of some sort. While I was looking, she also rubbed one of her nipples with the beer bottle, and it responded by getting tautly erect. I couldn't believe she was putting on this show for me.
Before I could react too much, she tapped her wrist to ask the time left on her punishment. Looking at my watch, I told her, "Three minutes."
She smiled demurely, and nodded, quickly taking a long draw from her beer.
A couple of the guys had been ogling her for a while, but she ignored them. She sipped her beer casually and watched me. After time was up, I looked at my watch, got up and gave her clothes back to her.
"You can dress now, and we all thank you for your silence."
Some of the guys saluted her with their beers, and she returned their salute. Petra sat her beer down and took her clothes, and began to sort them out on the end of the lounger. She separated her jeans and t-shirt, then her underwear. Her undies were plain white, generic.
I sat down and grabbed my beer, watching her begin to dress, or not quite start. She knocked her plain white panties onto the floor, and with a casual look over her shoulder to see if I was watching, bent over to pick them up. She was slow and methodical in her motion, and I caught a glimpse of her little anus as her butt cheeks spread from the motion.
She slowly dressed, taking her time with her underwear. I honestly thought she enjoyed the not so surreptitious ogling she got from some of the guys. Once she slipped the jeans and t-shirt on, she looked normal again. She had lost the perpetual scowl, and as she picked up her beer, she looked at Chuck, who studiously avoided her gaze.
She walked over to him and whispered in his ear. Chuck turned blood red in the face, but also lit up a leering grin on his face. I had no idea what she told him but I figured she had gotten turned on and planned on punishing him in some sexual way that he liked. I had a mental flash of Petra in boots and a whip, flogging poor Chuck until he screamed for mercy and then she would grind her pussy into his face until he almost smothered him while she spewed juice from a gut wrenching orgasm.
They had one more round of beer and then casually said goodbyes, never mentioning the stripping incident. Petra was calmly quiet the remainder of the evening until they casually strolled out to return to their apartment.
A couple of days later I ran into Petra outside, walking the poodle. She was extremely laid back, letting the poor little guy do his business at his leisure. She smiled at me as I approached, and I waved hello. She was wearing a thin t-shirt with no bra, and some thin pajama pants that left no doubt she wasn't wearing underwear.
I asked how she was doing, and she casually put her hand on my arm, saying, "Very nice, thanks."
I was stunned and taken aback by her attitude. I half expected to have her try to claw my eyes out. Her gentle touch was a pleasant surprise. She asked me if I would stop by her apartment for a minute. Not sure what to expect, I agreed with some trepidation.
She picked up the poodle, cradling him against her breasts, and we went in and grabbed the elevator. We rode the short trip up to her apartment in silence, with me casually petting the dog, scratching behind his ears. He licked my hand appreciatively.
Petra quickly opened the door and went in, leaving me to shut the door back. She sat the dog down and headed toward the living room. Her apartment floor plan was a duplicate of mine. As I entered the living room, she picked up an open beer and sipped it slowly. After a moment, she looked at me.
"I guess you think I am going to try to kill you or something."
"The thought crossed my mind," I quipped.
"I just wanted to tell you I was sorry for being so bitchy. I didn't realize how many people were pissed at me. I can't seem to help myself sometimes, and Chuck is no help at all. He is such a wimp," she complained.
