[Author’s Note: This fictional story is based on historical facts. At the 1936 Berlin Olympic Games, Nazi officials set up a “Love Garden” adjacent to the Olympic Village. Its primary purpose was to be a romantic venue where suitable German and visiting athletes could breed with comely German maidens to produce genetically perfect babies. Yes, that really happened!]
Part One
The 1936 Olympic Games in Berlin were probably the greatest moment in my entire life. I am penning this memoir in 1995. I am now an octogenarian, but I was 21 years old when what would later be called “Hitler’s Olympics” took place. I am not going to identify myself except to say that in 1936 I was the reigning men’s high jump champion of my small country, which did not have much of a history of Olympic glory. That did not matter to me. As a national champion and an accomplished amateur athlete, that achievement earned me a trip to Berlin. I was thrilled to be a participant in the world's biggest sports festival. It was obviously the most important and prestigious competition I had entered or ever would enter.
Upon arriving in Berlin, my teammates and I went through the lengthy rigmarole of officially checking in and getting our Olympic accreditations as athletes. They were important documents, as they allowed us free access to anything to do with the Games and to the Olympic Village. When all the required paperwork was complete, we were escorted to our dormitories which were beyond our expectations. In fact, they were absolutely fabulous!
Germany had been awarded the 1936 Games in 1931—not quite two years before the Nazis came to power in that country. Hitler, who personally cared little about sports but clearly understood the value of propaganda, oversaw the construction of the Olympic village in Wustermark, which was situated on the outskirts of the German capital. The vast complex included state-of-the-art dormitories, dining areas, training facilities, and a spectacular swimming pool. It hosted some 4,000 athletes in luxury accommodations the likes of which had rarely been seen. Considering the Great Depression was wreaking economic havoc on most of the world in 1936, Berlin’s Olympic Village was thought to be unbelievably luxurious—especially by those of us who would be living there for the two weeks the Olympics lasted. Ironically, it was designed to portray an idyllic, picturesque image of a peaceful Germany to the world. The Führer even named the complex the “Village of Peace”, with its layout resembling a traditional village. Each hut was named after a specific German town. None of us knew, however, the intention from the start was for the German army to use the complex once the Games were finished. Accordingly, its design and construction were completely in the hands of the host country’s growing military.
Of course, the state-controlled German press gave the Village glowing reviews. The rest of the reporters from around the world, whether they liked the Nazi regime or not--and most did not--had to concur that Berlin’s Olympic Village easily surpassed any that had come before it.
There was, however, one aspect of the Olympic Village that got no publicity whatsoever in the press, local or otherwise. It was a park carved out of a beech forest. But it was not just any park. It was known as “The Love Garden” to the male athletes for very good reason. Decades later, sports historians Bruce Nash and Allan Zullo described the frolicking that took place there—with the blessing of the Olympic hosts:
“Obsessed with creating an Aryan nation, the Nazis used the Berlin Olympics to lure unsuspecting athletes to a human stud farm where they were seduced by winsome young maidens who tried to have their babies.
“To the Nazis, Olympic athletes were considered nearly perfect humans who would make ideal mating partners with the best of German womanhood. Unbeknownst to the rest of the outside world, the Nazis quietly set up the enthralling Love Garden. Athletes [from around the world] were enticed by alluring damsels handpicked by the Nazis.
“These tantalizing maidens were usually sports teachers or members of Hitler’s female youth groups who had passes to the Olympic Village so they could mingle with the athletes. They picked only those young men who, because of their good looks and strong bodies, made ideal breeding prospects. Chosen for seduction were Aryan types—white Americans, Scandinavians, Dutchmen and the like—and especially Germans.”
Of course it did not take much persuading the find cooperative males. The comely frauleins had little difficulty leading horny males to this little piece of heaven among flowers, shade trees and a romantic lake where nature took its course. I was one of them.
Part Two
I had been in the Olympic Village for only about a day. I was by myself, enjoying an enormous breakfast of eggs, potatoes, sausages and fresh fruit, when an extremely attractive blonde girl sat down beside me at a long table where I was eating. She impressed me with her very good English—which was my language—and began a pleasant conversation with me. I noticed she was not wearing the same credentials around her neck that athletes, coaches and officials were required to wear to gain access to the enormous cafeteria that had mountains of hot food available, buffet-style, 24 hours a day. She said her name was Magda and that she was 20 years old. I said hello and offered my hand.
Out of curiosity I mentioned her lack of Olympic ID. She showed me a special card that said she was a “guest of the organizers” and was free to go anyplace in the Village to talk to all the athletes. She also carried a notepad.
“Are you a journalist or something like that?” I logically inquired.
“No,” she stated with a mischievous grin. “I am here, on behalf of the state, to make sure strong, virile athletes like you have a good time while visiting Germany—a very good time, indeed.”
I was completely dumbfounded but fully attentive.
She explained there was a hidden, romantic park only a short walk away that she would be happy to explore with me once I had finished my breakfast. Just so I was perfectly clear about her intentions, she placed her right hand on my crotch and began to caress me in a certain delicate area. I gasped for a moment—a reaction which made her smile. She continued with her sensual touching—and I wasn’t going to stop her. “We can go to that park right now,” she offered. “There are many secluded places where we can be intimate together.” I wolfed down the final few bites of my breakfast before she could change her mind. I couldn’t help but notice she was writing down my name, nationality and ID number in her notebook. I didn’t bother to ask why—at least not yet. I had been told by my country’s officials that the Olympics would provide me with unforgettable experiences to last a lifetime. This one, if it panned out, would certainly be among them.
I took my tray, cutlery and dishes and put them in a designated receptacle to be washed. I made a quick trip to the men’s room to clean myself up as best I could to look presentable to this delightful young German woman who seemed to have no morals at all. I half expected her to be gone when I came back into the main area of the cafeteria. She wasn’t. Smiling, she took me by the hand and quickly led me out the building and toward the park. I’m sure I was smiling too.
We entered a forest, walked along a dirt pathway for about 100 meters, and came across a lovely greensward that had magnificent flower gardens and a man-made lake in which swans and ducks were happily swimming. I also noticed an unusually high presence of gendarmes. “Magda, dear, aren’t you afraid we might get in trouble with the police for doing what you want to do with me?” I asked her, somewhat concerned.
“You have it backwards, silly!” Magda corrected me with a laugh. “The police are here for a special purpose—to make sure no one interrupts us while we fuck.” Then she kissed me on my cheek. I returned the favor.
Indeed, Magda was greeted by several police officers as we strolled by them. She said something in German to one of them. He replied and pointed to a grassy area near the lake. I assumed that was where the policeman instructed Magda to take me for our coital romp. As we approached, another couple was coming from that direction. I recognized the male as a Finnish pole vaulter whom I knew vaguely from European track meets. He nodded at me. He seemed to be a very happy and contented fellow.
Magda took me to a sloping meadow near the lake where she laid down some rules I hadn’t expected. We were there to have sexual intercourse. Once I was suitably aroused, she would happily fuck me until I ejaculated. I had to come in her vagina; that was the main point of us visiting this park. Under no circumstances was I to pull out of her pussy until our act of intercourse was completed. Based on my limited sexual history, that was usually the exact opposite of what my sex partners asked of me.
To me, it all sounded very staged and businesslike rather than romantic. But if I was going to fuck a beautiful German girl, who was I to complain about a few formal details? We both began to disrobe. I was hoping to undress Magda. I liked to do that with my compliant girlfriends back home. Sexual foreplay was very much a real turn-on to me. But Magda seemed to be in a rush. While I was sitting down removing my shoes and socks, I noticed across the lake there were two other couples merrily having sex. Even from a distance, I was able to recognize one of my teammates, our javelin champion, being ridden by a meaty German girl with large breasts. They both seemed to be enjoying their get-together. This was certainly a most unusual park. To the best of my knowledge, there was nothing comparable to it back home.
Magda seemed a little bit impatient with me as I undressed slowly. “My vagina is waiting for your penis,” she said in a not particularly sexy way. It was if she had said, “Your taxi is waiting for you.” Be that as it may, I removed my last article of clothing and stood up. I turned around and saw Magda. She was quite fetching, standing before me completely and gloriously naked. She had fine, round breasts—the most attractive set I had ever seen--and an inviting vaginal area. My dick was well on its way to full erection status—and I hadn’t even touched this girl sexually yet.
Magda instigated the sexual touching. She immediately began tugging on my penis. To speed its growth, she began to kiss it and lick it. I enjoyed that! A few seconds later, she informed me. “Good! It is very hard now. Let’s begin our fuck!”
She promptly laid down on her back against an incline of perhaps 30 degrees—and she spread her legs. I pause for a moment, but she waved me forward. I wanted to play with her lovely breasts, but as I began to kneel, Magda grabbed my shaft and guided it into her waiting, tight pussy.
“You don’t waste much time, do you?” I noted.
I didn’t expect an answer, but she stated, “No. Please fuck me and come inside me.”
It was going to be easy to comply. Entering this healthy, young girl’s private part was a sensual delight. I placed my hands on her hips and began thrusting away. As I wanted to experience all Magda had to offer, I moved my hands to her breasts and caressed them vigorously. She must have liked it because her nipples hardened in a hurry, but she seemed obsessed with her ultimate goal—to receive a cum blast from me. “Make sure you come inside me,” she cautioned. “Remember: Don’t pull out—not even accidentally.”
For some reason I took that instruction as an invitation to be rougher with her than any girl I had ever screwed back home. I felt my dick become hard as iron and my thrusts inside her pussy became more animalistic by the moment. I started groaning louder as the fucking continued. This wasn’t romantic in the slightest, but it felt great! Finally, I shouted, “Magda...I’m about to come!”
“Good!” she announced and put me into a bear hug so there was no way I could pull out of her. I fired a load inside her, still thrusting as my semen came in spurts. I didn’t know when exactly I was permitted to remove my dick from her pleasure palace, so I just laid on top of her for several minutes, still thrusting until my penis was totally flaccid.
Still breathing heavily, I asked her, “Are we done, Magda?”
“Yes,” she replied. “You did what I wanted and you did well.”
I wanted to kiss her—and she allowed it—but she wasn’t much interested in my sucking on her beautiful tits now that she had been serviced by me. Despite the intercourse being a pleasurable experience, the emotionally detached attitude presented by Magda made it far less enjoyable and fun than it could have been.
Magda got dressed in a hurry, so I did too. We did sit and chat for a while at a cozy bench situated a few feet from the lake. I got the courage to ask her what this whole encounter was about. Magda explained that she had been orphaned at a young age. She was a ward of the state for many years. Because of her undeniably attractive looks, she had been offered a chance to be a “birthing girl” for the German government. Her job was to become pregnant with an appropriate father and give birth to an Aryan child. The child would be adopted by some German couple who, for whatever reason, was unable to have children of their own. During her pregnancy, she would be taken care of in luxury at a fabulous special home. “It’s all about increasing the population with the best offspring,” she said.
“I guess that’s a great compliment for you to be chosen to do this,” I suggested.
“Yes, it is,” she quickly agreed. “You should be honored, too. When you were checking in to the Olympic Village, without your knowing it, you were observed and selected as an ideal Germanic father-type. My meeting you this morning in the cafeteria was no accident.”
“So, is this the one and only time you’ll see me?” I asked her.
“Well, perhaps. I will be tested in about a week or so to see if I am pregnant. If I am, I will leave right away for a special home for the state’s expectant mothers. If you didn’t fertilize my egg, we will likely get a second chance to try again...but probably not a third chance.”
“Will I be informed if I am a father-to-be?” I asked. “That’s rather important to me.”
“No, not officially,” she stated. “What you just said is unusual. Most athletes here don’t care about the result of their trysts. They are just happy to have a fuck with a willing girl. They are typically unaware of why some strange German girls want to have sex with them—and they don’t especially care. Magda continued, “I’ll tell you this, though: If another girl approaches you in the Olympic Village who has the same type of special ID card that I have, that means our meeting this morning has succeeded. I am pregnant and you get to fuck another willing German girl before you head home. Not a bad deal, right?”
“If you say so,” I said. “This is all kind of overwhelming to me. I enjoyed fucking you, of course,” I added. “I hope you found me satisfactory.”
“Oh, certainly,” she said, “You have a nice firm penis and it pleased me. Let’s vacate this place and head back to the village. There are plenty of couples who will be sent to this same spot today to conceive beautiful Aryan babies.”
Part Three
The athletics competition at an Olympics is always held near the end of the Games as it is a popular climax. I finished tied for 17th place in the men’s high jump competition—which is about what I expected of myself. The medalists and the fourth-place finisher all cleared the bar at two meters or more. That was beyond my ability. I was now free to enjoy the rest of the Games as a spectator without having to buy a ticket. That has always been a perquisite given to all Olympic athletes.
However, one morning I experienced déjà vu. While eating the exact same breakfast I had been enjoying when Magda sat beside me, another German girl silently approached my table and did the very same thing. This was a wispy brunette who was much shyer than Magda had been.
She hadn’t even begun to talk to me when I asked If she possessed a special visitors ID and wanted to take me to a romantic nearby park.
Startled, she said, “Well...yes, I do.” Her English was very good too.
“Please let me finish my fruit and eggs and we can go for our fuck,” I told her. “You are quite beautiful so I know I will enjoy having sex with you.”
She told me her name was Clara and she was 18. We only chatted briefly as we walked to the lake in the park. I recognized the same policeman whom Magda had spoken with 12 days earlier. This time the cop directed Clara to go to the opposite end of the lake—the approximate spot where I had seen from a distance the javelin-thrower merrily fucking a busty German girl.
Having gone through this before, I figured I would be more of a lover and less of a stud service than I was with Magda. I insisted in undressing my lithe brunette. Clara was not nearly as busty as Magda, but her small boobs were a major turn on to me. I insisted on fondling them and sucking on them before I even got undressed. Clara didn’t seem to mind the delay at all. In fact, she was much more receptive than Magda to a bit of romance entering into her business. We kissed and hugged. I spent a few minutes licking her vaginal area. She even gave me a brief, cautious blowjob. “I’m not supposed to do this in case you come prematurely,” she said. “But I like you. Please don’t come in my mouth.”
“I promise I won’t,” I told her gently. “Will you let me give you a titty fuck too?”
That was a term and a sex act she was unfamiliar with. Nevertheless, she let me do it for about half a minute before saying, “I’m too afraid you will come outside of my vagina. Let’s start with the intercourse now, please.”
“Yes, Magda,” I said sadly.
“I’m Clara, not Magda,” she corrected me.
“You could have fooled me,” I said. “You sound just like her.”
For the sake of change, I insisted on fucking Clara from behind. She didn’t object to that either. That way I could reach forward and play with her perky little titties at the same time to give them the attention they deserved. It was great fun. Having not had sex for 12 days, I was a loaded pistol. I lasted just a few minutes before firing my load deep into Clara’s welcoming vagina.
“Don’t pull out yet,” she instructed me. “Keep your penis inside me and keep thrusting so I get every last drop of your semen. I’m sure you know that’s the whole idea.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “That means I can fondle your precious tits to my heart’s content! I like that, Clara!”
Epilogue
According to historians Nash and Zullo, “No one knows how many Olympic babies were conceived or how many athletes succumbed to Hitler’s crazy mating scheme.” I never knew if I had become a father once or twice or not at all.
Nine years later, in the spring of 1945, I was a member of one of the armies who were occupying Germany after the Nazi regime fell to the Allies. During my tour of duty there, I encountered plenty of German children who were around the age of eight that theoretically could have been mine. However, I never saw one who closely resembled me. That was just as well.