/lit/ - Literature

>>21477365
>it's terrible minus one book

Somewhere in the German-occupied Netherlands…

one early September morning, 1944

Peter van Pels felt himself be jerked back into consciousness. He felt his head pounding, as his felt himself trapped in a blur, only one thing went through his mind. What had dared to wake him from his slumber.

A fraction of a second later, he got his answer. As his ears opened up to the world once more, he was greeted by an incessant drone, aircraft engines. How strange he thought, Allied aircraft rarely flew in the countryside low enough to be heard. Then he heard an even more unmistakable sound, gunfire. The bangs came one after another, machine guns, they weren’t loud enough to be nearby, but close enough to alarm him nonetheless. Although the bursts of gunfire nearly obscured it, Peter recognized the sound of screaming in the distance.

It suddenly clicked in his mind where the commotion was coming from, the house of the pastor who had given them shelter was just two kilometers away.

They had to get out. Now.

Peter yanked off the blanket and turned to Anne. There she lay, completely naked, with a spare pillow nestled between her legs. One hand covered a breast, with the nipple sticking out between her fingers, the other lay on her round swollen belly. Even in slumber, the baby moved around, causing her stomach to ever slightly change shape with every movement.

Peter had always been a light sleeper, but Anne remained sound asleep. She hadn’t gotten a proper night’s sleep in several days.

After a moment’s hesitation, Peter poked her in the shoulder and quietly whispered “Anne”. But she remained completely undisturbed to the outside world. Peter poked her again, “Anne, wake up”. The only response he got was a small twitch in her hand. Starting to hear the rumble of an approaching engine, Peter gave up on trying to be courteous. He grabbed her by her shoulders and shook as hard as he could.

“ANNE!”

The first thing Anne Frank felt was her neck jerking back and forth, a pair of hands digging into her shoulder, and an incessant calling of her name. At first she, thought she was back and the Annexe and that it was Dumkopf waking her, she wanted to scream in sheer annoyance, but then she felt her memories flood back. Those hands, that voice, Peter’s.

She heard him quietly cry out again “ANNE WAKE UP!”

“P-Peter, I’m sleeping” she growled. She couldn’t believe it. An entire day of sexual passion in that field, and once more just before she passed out from sheer exhaustion, and Peter wanted more? He had slammed into her so hard the last time that she still felt sore in her pelvis.

“ANNE, WAKE UP! WE NEED TO GO!”

It wasn’t even dawn yet and Peter wanted to go back to the field for yet another round.

As much as Anne enjoyed their lovemaking, as much as it drove the terrifying thoughts of Nazis, family squabbles, and impending motherhood from her mind, she wasn’t in the mood for it. She needed her beauty sleep.

>>16687855
>>16687860
>>16687862
>>16687886

What do you guys think about an erotic novel featuring a nine month pregnant Anne Frank as the protagonist?

What’s the best piece of Holocaust-related fiction out there.

Please no /pol/-tier answers like Anne Frank, if you really feel the need to shitpost, just post exceptionally bad works of fiction such as Boy in the Striped PJs

>>15661472
>Confessions of Nat Turner
>Frederick Douglass' photograph

>>15608539

Plans on marriage yet? Does she want human babies to pet someday?

>>15394679

Cringe

>>15369819
>>15369941

Religion is one of the noteworthy themes in this about pregnant Anne Frank story I'm drafting. Anne is initially somewhat flippant about religion and privately ridicules her sister's excessive devotion to Judaism but that changes after she becomes pregnant in late 1943. Increasingly overcome with fear for her unborn child and a sense of helplessness, Anne experiences an epiphany and becomes increasing religious over the course of 1944, constantly praying for the safety of herself and the new life growing inside of her. With Peter more or less cynically forsaking the Jewish religion, Anne start to pray on his behalf. Eventually, she begins praying to Christ, Allah, and even the Pagan gods that the Nazis seem so fond of out of sheer desperation. Pleading for something, someone, anyone, to help the three of them, to save from the Hell of Nazi occupation.

At the same time, as her womb grows larger and larger with each passing day, Anne's hormones and Peter's budding pregnancy fetish go into overdrive and the two literally can't keep their hands off each other, spending nearly every waking moment of the day having the most intense sex imaginable, filling Anne with a mixture of joy for the intense physical passion she experiences, but also shame with her newfound religiosity making her feel sinful as well.

>>15359961

Just imagine how'd she look heavily pregnant. Waddling around with her petite frame barely able to support her huge round belly. Her feet becoming so swollen that she's forced to go barefoot most of the time.

>>15356844

That’s not a novel though

>>15346433
>What book presents the best role model for a traditionalist female wife?

My story about Anne Frank. He knows how to cook, clean, manage a household, is deeply in love her beloved Pete-

lmao just kidding, she’s an emotional trainwreck who can’t do any of those things and argues with Peter constantly

She is barefoot, pregnant, and extremely horny though so that makes up for it.

>"A man and a woman had a relationship, and after a few months the woman's belly was getting disturbingly big. Then, the man called a doctor who said: 'It's just air, Mrs., just air!!!" The man replied: 'I am not pumping air, am I?'

What did she mean by this?

>>15180011
>September 10th, 1944
>somewhere outside Eindhoven, the Netherlands
>a column of German trucks sped past an abandoned chapel, completely oblivious of the occupants
>Anne Frank quietly eyed through a hole in the covered up window
>when they had arrived back in July, Germans seldom traveled this road, now they drove by ever more frequently
>at first they were heading South, but now, most headed North, away from the Allies, back towards Germany
>the sight gave her a small degree of comfort, it reminded her how close to the end they really were
>this terrible war, that had robbed her and countless others of the flower of their youth and innocence would be over, soon
>her mind drifted to the news the pastor had given them when he stopped by a few days ago, Paris had been liberated
>in happier times, Paris wouldn't have been even a day's travel away, the Allies were so close that she could almost taste the freedom with her own tongue
>if they could just stay hidden for a few more weeks, a few more days even, then all of them would be safe
>it wasn't long before she felt her other "reassurance"
>she felt the tortured skin on her stomach abruptly expand as the baby kicked, hard
>the impact was so hard that she gasped for air
>"You okay Anne?" came a familiar voice
>Anne stumbled, "I-I'm fine Peter."
>"Are you sure? Looks like you got the wind knocked out of you."
>"It's nothing."
>"I think you need to have a seat."
>Peter gently took Anne by her hand and guided her as she waddled to the nearest bench
>after nine months, her stomach become so round and so huge that she could barely walk
>"There. Stay right there.”
>Peter soon returned with a cup, “drink”
>Anne tasted the cold liquid (neither of them dared use the small stove in the center in the day), it was sweet with vanilla, milk and apples, just the way she liked it
>ever since she had become pregnant, Anne’s sweet tooth had exploded, she craved it constantly
>it made her feel guilty, to be demanding sweets in a time when even the most basic essentials were in short supply
>she managed to utter out a “thank you” in between sips
>when the cup was halfway empty, Anne lowered the cup her mouth, now partially stained with something stick
>”H-How did you make this?”
>”You’re not the only with her head buried in books.”
>Anne shot him an annoyed glare
>she knew he was only teasing, but she wished he would take her diary more seriously, her writing at improved so much over the last year
>”What have you been writing lately in that thing anyway?”
>Anne decided to be honest, “not much, there’s so little to write about. And when I do try to write, I just can’t… concentrate. I’ve just been editing it mostly.”
>”Well let’s hope this helps your concentration.”
>Anne took another sip, she saw as Peter eyed her taking a gulp

Continue?

Is Amy actually Anne?

>>15157671

Anne Frank hated her mother with a passion.

>tfw no pregnant Anne Frank gaining newfound appreciation for her mother and being forced to admit to herself that she was wrong.

Imagine being Little Anne

Imagine being nine months pregnant and cooped up in an attic for so long that you start to forget what it’s like to be on the outside.

Imagine being horny and hormonal every waking moment of the day.

Imagine your diary being devoid of entries for days on end as pregnancy brain prevents you from forming a cogent thought in your head.

Imagine having to go barefoot all the time because your feet are too swollen for your shoes and socks to bear and having to listen for the constant threat of creaks as you waddle about the cold wooden floor, feeling the splinters dig into your toes.

Imagine being plagued with nightmares at night and desperately wishing for some kind of escape.

Imagine being in there with Peter, they boy who fathered your baby, no more ready for fatherhood than you are for motherhood.

Imagine seeing him contort his pants with discomfort whenever he looks at your growing belly.

Imagine knowing what he really wants.

Imagine waiting until everyone falls asleep and then poking Peter awake, quietly gesturing him to follow you.

Imagine sneaking through the darkened corridors Opekta plant and onto the roof.

Imagine stripping off your dress that’s a few sizes for you and making Peter do the same.

Imagine making Peter lie down and climbing on top of him.

Imagine inserting him inside you because he’s too nervous to do it himself.

Imagine riding Peter like a horsey for what seems like an eternity, with only the moonlight to illuminate his face.

Imagine the sheer ecstasy of of having your insides filled with Peter’s hot and sticky goo.

Imagine looking up at the night sky with Peter and seeing the moon blocked out by chemtrails as armada after armada of Allied warplanes streams overhead on their way to Germany to take the fight to the Nazis’ backyard.

Imagine being reminded that soon, this terrible war will be over and that with any hope, you, Peter and the baby will to see the end of it.

>>14794411
>What does it mean?

She’s probably into pregnant Anne Frank rp

>>14568545
>>14568619
>July, 1944
>Anne opened her right eye, peering her darkened room
>finally the dummkopf was asleep, his snores giving it away
>slowly and methodically, Anne pulled the covers off her aching body
>the night air was unusually warm, perfect
>Anne slowly pulled herself up, it was harder than she thought
>she put her hand on her belly and ran her hand along the curve
>where there was once slim and soft flesh, a hard round bump had replaced it
>it was heavy, and made sleeping on her back unbearable at times
>according to Margot, she was "only" seven months along, but Anne already felt ready to burst
>she was the size of a planet, and she still had another two months to go? Between her changing body and the non-stop quarreling, it made her life unbearable
>her diary had been devoid of entries for days, her mind too scattered by other thoughts to focus
>of course there was one thing that would make it bearable, to drive away the fear and shame her mind, if for just a few brief moments
>getting up onto her feet, Anne felt the bitterly cold wooden floor touch her toes, the splinters dug into her
>but she did not even bother trying to put on socks let alone shoes
>shoes made noise, and her feet were too swollen for anything to fit anymore
>half waddling, Anne crept towards her door, each creak sending a shiver up her spine
>resting herself against the door, Anne slowly pushed it open
>the Annexe was deathly quiet, apart from dummkopf's snoring and the pounding of her own heart
>Anne slid out of her room into the crammed hallway (made more so by her massive distended womb), carefully closing the door behind her
>she waddled about the hall towards his room
>at last reaching the door, Anne slowly pushed it open with her finger and peered inside with one eye
>she could see him lying fast asleep on a couch that was too short him
>Peter, the boy who had fathered her baby
>he was no more ready for fatherhood than she was for motherhood

Should I continue?

>>14193835
>implying there’s anything abnormal about wanting to save a cute little pregnant Jewish girl

>>13952249

Is this a pregnancy fetish thread?

>>13565061

I HAVE FOUND IN THIS PLACE