"She was a striking woman," the memoir reads. "She was tall and slender, her hair jet black, her blue eyes shimmering under dark eyebrows. She wore a man's SS uniform, black with red and silver trim, the SS insignia on her collar. Her black boots reached above her knees, and she carried a riding crop everywhere she went."
The memoir describes the winter party as a "black evening" in a dark hallway lit by candles with a small quartet of strings playing in another room. It was a haunting party with beer and wine pouring freely and partners pairing off into the cold darkness, the sounds and smell of female sex filling the air.
A heavy snow had continued through the evening, and the party apparently lasted all night, the women all held hostage by the weather, all in drunken states of sexual depravity and ending in a ceremonial scene of ritualistic bedding.
"The woman, whose name we were not told, appeared at one point in the evening carrying a candlestick and pulling a companion by a chain," the memoir reads. "It was Eva, who was collared and half-dressed, barefoot on the cold, stone floor, her hair pulled back tight, a gossamer nightgown showing her hard nipples and a long protrusion below.
"She was wearing a strap-on, an iron maiden the size of a small pony. She leered at her black-booted lover pulling her into the middle of the room where a small mattress was supported by four tall bedposts. It was then we saw the man for the first time, the SS officer we'd seen at the Berghof when the Fuhrer was in residence. He walked toward the woman in black and began to undress her, revealing impossibly white skin under the black and leather, perfect breasts, a small waist and a perfect black triangle of hair between her legs.
"She was stripped bare then booted again, the long black boots then tied to the bedposts, her wrists tied also with black scarves. The woman was helpless yet in control, Miss Braun drooling at the foot of the bed, her eyes rolling back in her head as if drugged and in a trance. There was total silence. The music stopped and only the sound of Eva's heavy breathing was heard in the massive hallway.
"She mounted the snow-white woman in a slobbering, animal-like way, sliding the massive iron penis into her slowly but without passion, slamming it deep into her as the woman gasped, arched her back and took it all in. We watched in amazement as Eva devoured her like she owned her, making her cum over and over, screaming out loud in a strange Bavarian dialect, words we didn't understand, until she collapsed in a puddle beneath her."
That was the real story of Snow White, not the fairy tale we would see on the movies screens, not the child-like cartoon with happy dwarfs and a "happily-ever-after" ending.
The memoir had no other description of the party or the "snow-white woman," but stories passed down through the years in the Bavarian Alps tell of a Nazi couple seen roaming through the forest after the war was lost, tales of "fiery ceremonies" deep in the woods, elaborate dancing among the supposed descendants of the dwarfs long ago slaughtered at the Nazi whore's direction. The dwarf descendants, the rumors told, had been forced to play out the original scene in the cottage, raping the "snow-white woman" repeatedly before they too were slaughtered in dark winter ceremonies, one by one.
Their names are lost to history, but they certainly weren't Happy, Bashful, Grumpy et al.
The last known sightings of Hench and Snow White were them riding on horseback, away from the smoldering remains of White Castle, burned to the ground and left to deteriorate in ice-covered ruins.
The officer rode in front, holding a long chain locked to a collar around the woman's neck. She was dressed in black, a riding crop sensually caressing the rump of her horse, which strode erect, into the dark forest.
