JOSEF'S FORGE - 5
Copyright 2006 by Carl Mason with Ed Collins
All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without the written permission of the authors. However based on real events and places, "Josef's Forge" is strictly fictional. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. As in real life, however, the sexual themes unfold gradually.
If you would like to read other Mason-Collins stories, please turn to the listing at the end of this chapter. Comments on all stories are appreciated and may be addressed to the authors at carl_mason@comcast.net.
This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both adults and teenagers. As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature, adults. If you are not of legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral dilemmas in your life, please leave. Finally, remember that maturity generally demands that anything other than safe sex is sheer insanity!
CHAPTER 5
(Revisiting Chapter 4)
The large group of prisoners sat and stood as if frozen to the ground. Several had ugly smirks on their faces as they contemplated the sweet revenge that seemed about to take place. Josef suddenly glanced at his buddies - and took off running for the truck, his Squad members at his heels. The guards were too far into shock to react. Climbing up on the lumber truck, they stabilized the log that was threatening to topple and got a chain around it. Once it was secure, they climbed down and approached the jumbled logs that trapped the two young guards who were sobbing and white-faced with fear. At this point, the guards recovered an, along with the Squad and several of the other prisoners, freed the trapped boys. The leg of one was pretty well torn up and bleeding heavily, but they got the bleeding stopped. The other youngster came out of his brush with death with little more than heavy scratches and a few abrasions. As an empty truck approached, the head guard sent the prisoners who hadn't been involved in the rescue back into the forest. He then ordered the two guards - and the body of the dead boy - lifted onto the truck. The Squad and the few other prisoners who had belatedly helped were told to climb aboard. They left immediately for the camp.
(Continuing Our Story - No Free Lunch)
The prisoners were taken to the guards' duty room in the administration building and fed their first good meal since they approached Stalingrad. As they sat down to their meal, the head guard (an old pro) came in from somewhere, probably to see his men. Not unkindly, he told them that the rich food could do a number on them if they weren't careful. Borscht dripping down their chins, eying a platter of sausages and potatoes that had just been placed on the table, and holding pieces of rough bread, several of the boys grinned and bobbed their heads in thanks. (They decided that the stomach upset that might follow was well worth the pain!)
In the barracks that night, they received some criticism from several of their fellow prisoners. Josef told them frankly that he hadn't ceased being a human being when he donned the Wehrmacht uniform, or when he was sent to this camp. Somewhat facetiously, he added that he'd do the same thing for them! No one was willing to tangle with six young guys. Simply staying alive takes most of your energy.
After roll call the next morning, Josef was ordered to report to the Commandant's office. Standing in front of the Major's desk, Josef snapped to rigid attention. "Stand easy, Sergeant," the officer said quietly. Relaxing, Josef interrupted uneasily, "Sir, I'm not really a sergeant. The guys..." "You're a sergeant by me," the Major snapped, ignoring the interruption. "If you were one of mine, I'd be pinning a medal on you!" "Thank you, sir," Josef replied, blushing.
"For several reasons," the Commandant continued, "I'm thinking about instituting a new program. It would have to begin with the oldest men...and the youngest. Truth is, I need a test case to see if it would really have a good effect on morale and on production." ("My superiors aren't very forgiving," he added wryly.) "Would you be interested in serving me and your fellow prisoners further...honorably...as a German soldier?" "Sir!" Josef said firmly, snapping to attention. "Relax, young man," the Major said with a slight smile. "You Germans..."
"The idea goes something like this," he continued. "The oldest and youngest prisoners would be given a half-day's assignment at tasks for which they have some competence. My Sergeant of Guards and the officer who supervised your assignment would jointly advise me on the quality of your work and its contribution to my...responsibilities. In your case, your men have all had some education - several on the collegiate level. Despite all you've been through, you're still fairly presentable - and you all speak and read at least some Russian. I think your assignment would be in my Records office, right here in this building. If you succeed, I will be able to expand the program to include other men. Do I still have your interest?" Josef scarcely knew whether to shout with joy or give way to the tears that were backed up behind his eyelids. He kept his composure and said simply, "You have my full interest, Comrade Major, and my pledge to do everything in my power to make the program a resounding success!" "Good," the Major breathed with satisfaction.
"When the lunch break is announced tomorrow, you and your men will report back to camp on the double, shower thoroughly, and report to Lieutenant Voroshilo in the Records Office. You will be provided with lunch after you reach his office. Have you any questions?" "No, Sir!" Josef answered. "Very well...Sergeant. Dismissed!" Snapping to attention, Josef wheeled and headed for the door. "Hold, young man," the Major's voice called out. When Josef again faced him, the officer continued, "Thank you for what you and your boys did yesterday. Both my wife and I are close personal friends of the family of the young man whose leg was badly hurt." "Is he ok?" Josef interrupted. "Yes," the Major responded, again letting the interruption pass. "Thanks to you and the guard who was in charge, he reached us in time. The doctors tell me that he will regain full use of his leg." "GOOD!" Josef exclaimed, grinning widely. Hesitating, clearly on the verge of again dismissing him, the Major rose, walked over to the boy, rubbed the stubble on his head, and said, "Come with me down the hall and meet Lieutenant Voroshilo."
After a short hike down the corridor of a building that Josef found was maintained at an uncomfortably warm temperature, he stood face to face with Voroshilo, a relatively short, rotund man in his later 30s. While not unpleasant, he appeared to be very much the "apparatchik" [functionary]. In addition to having Party responsibilities, the Records Office was clearly his fief, and even the Major treated him gingerly. After the Commandant had departed, he spoke with Josef for a few minutes, indicating that he welcomed the assistance that the Squad might bring to his operation. Rather than return to the barracks for a cold-water shower, Josef and his men could enter the building through a door that led directly into the large room next door. There they would find hooks for outside clothing, work dress, and a table with benches. By 1:15, he expected them to have showered, dressed, finished lunch, and reported for duty. (The mention of a shower with hot water brought a grin to the handsome young sergeant's face.) The Lieutenant nodded impassively and ordered him to return to his forest duties.
When released at noon on the morrow, Josef checked with the head guard whereupon he and the rest of the Squad took off running for the camp. It was already 12:20 when they forced their way into the room through the outside door that had been pointed out by Lieutenant Voroshilo. Though an ample (and rather appetizing) lunch was already on the table, Josef ordered the boys to strip and enter the decent-sized shower room. They could scarcely believe the hot water - or the guards' soap and shampoo that were readily available. Though Gerd, Thomas, and Wolf looked on with some disdain, Erich and Heinz were actually doing a little jig as they generously soaped each other's roughly shorn scalps. Josef finally pried the others - not to speak of himself - away from a luxury that they had never been completely sure they would ever again experience.
Quickly drying themselves, they beheld their "work dress" that had been piled on one end of the table. "Good thing that it's as hot as hell in here," Thomas muttered as he held up a pair of the cheap cotton, one-size-fits-all gym shorts. No one was any happier when they pulled them on and tied the waist cord, for the light gray shorts were REALLY short and had no liner. Thus, especially on the larger and more generously endowed lads such as Gerd and Wolf, they left little to the imagination. Happily, their eyes immediately fell upon the generous lunch that was soon dispatched!
Josef noticed that the office clock read 1:10 pm when he lined the Squad up in front of Voroshilo's desk, snapped to attention, and said firmly (in near perfect Russian), "At your command, Comrade Lieutenant!"
After perhaps 30 seconds, their new supervisor looked up from the papers he had been rather ostentatiously shuffling and said quietly - with just a note of threat in his voice - "Thank you, Sergeant."
His face absolutely expressionless and saying not a word, Voroshilo's eyes carefully examined each of the Squad members in turn. Finally, he drummed his fingers on the desk and said, "Well, I have seen worse." He then asked each boy a few questions in Russian. Gerd and Heinz stumbled a bit, but they all managed to answer the questions that were asked in passable Russian. He then gave each young man a small piece of paper and asked him to provide two or three sentences on how he thought he might best contribute to his new assignment. Collecting the papers, he examined each in turn, occasionally mumbling, but finally tossing them into the wastepaper basket with a somewhat reluctant grunt of acceptance. Josef mentally wiped his brow and thanked the gods that he had insisted that Erich conduct a final language review the night before. Work begun so long ago - in the holding camp east of Krasnoslobodsk - may have just given them an opportunity to survive!
The three young "Blue Caps" (NKVD personnel) who had been working in the Records Office spent the rest of the afternoon instructing their replacements in the Lieutenant's copying, filing, and final record entering procedures. Not a personal word was spoken; indeed, the Blue Caps seemed to avert their eyes whenever possible. As six o'clock approached, Voroshilo told them to report to the head guard for new assignments and dismissed them with nary a word of thanks or other change in his impassive, distant demeanor. Turning to his new staff, he said coolly, "I prefer that my assistants be well groomed. Starting tomorrow, I expect that you will keep your bodies shaved below the eyebrows. You will find that your dinner has been delivered next door. After enjoying it, you may use the showers and the shaving equipment for your grooming. As long as I have your full cooperation, this procedure will be repeated weekly. You are responsible for daily maintenance. The duty guard has been informed. Dismissed!"
The boys had no sooner pushed through the door leading from the Records Office into the Ready Room than everyone seemed to want to talk at the same time. Signaling for silence, Josef might have encountered some resistance, but the smells coming from the large covered food trays proved irresistible. Baked potatoes! And, oh God, that had to be...that just had to be...MEAT! As they polished off the last scraps and sopped up the juices with chunks of fresh bread, Josef and Thomas looked at the shaving equipment and at each other, shrugged, and proceeded to do as they had been ordered.
However wary about the well being of his men, Josef's fears did not seem to materialize. Lieutenant Voroshilo was clearly a cold fish. He was also a perfectionist, but the Squad realized the situation into which they had stumbled and, to a man, performed well. They even received relatively little flak from the other men, for the word had gotten around that this was a pilot program and, if successful, might be extended. True, they weren't privy to ALL of the details. For instance, they were not tortured with the full menu that continued to put muscle back onto the Squad. Nor were the boys ABOUT to admit that they rather liked the feeling of smoothly shaved skin once they had gotten used to the idea - and it was so much easier to control the body vermin. It was also the case that the Lieutenant did exactly as he said he would do. At noon they ate the same food given the guards; they still couldn't believe the hot showers. The first dinner - and thorough shaving session - had been followed by two more. After Voroshilo had actually complimented Erich and him on the final ledger sheets for two full weeks, Josef was wondering whether he could work one more weekly dinner! Unfortunately, he forgot that there's no such thing as a "free lunch" - or dinner.
"Twas the end of their first month in the new assignment. They looked forward to their fourth dinner that very night, as well as that weekly session in which they could really enjoy the hot water and soap. It was perhaps 4:30 when the Lieutenant called Gerd to bring over some new "green-tag" files. Explaining that he wished these rather rare files to be kept in the large bottom drawer of his desk, he moved over slightly for the large dark blond youth who knelt before him. How different the sight from the one that had greeted him only a month before. Gerd had always been the best built of the boys in the Squad. Now the extra food coupled with the hard work in the forest was turning his body into something rarely seen in the gulag. Wide shoulders tapered down to a solid waist; his torso was thickening again; the entire top of his crack and his muscular thighs were exposed by the skimpy shorts. Taking one file off the rather large pile, the supervisor rubbed it against the youth's bulging bicep until he noticed. When the hunky blond turned slightly to take the file, he showed him how to place a coding mark on the label and place it immediately behind the folder he had just filed. "Nice work, Gerd," he whispered. The lad grinned with pleasure, replying boyishly, "Thank you, Comrade Lieutenant."
The grin faded as Gerd felt a hand slowly work its way down his lower back and onto his buttocks, kneading and flexing as it went. A probing finger actually brushed his anus. Partially hidden by the desk, the young German rose up on his knees. Without pausing, the hand quickly untied the cord and explored his lower stomach. "Uh...uh...uh... Sir," the youngster whispered in feverish distress. "Relax, my boy," Voroshilo murmured. "You don't want to spend the rest of your days at hard labor on the road." The fingers of the hand played with the veins that arched across Gerd's tight lower stomach - before reaching deeper and scooping up his heavy balls. Slowly, he toyed with them as if they were beads on a rosary. Reaching up, he freed the blond's heavy shaft from the cheap fabric. It was as hard as a piece of Krupp steel, a river of precum seeming to flow from the slit. With an abrupt movement of his fingers, Voroshilo fully exposed the boy's fat mushroom-shaped head and swirled precum over the shiny, reddened flesh. A slippery finger dropped down to play with the frenulum.
As the youth gasped and stiffened, the expressionless supervisor bent down with a file in hand, telling the desperate lad that he was to pull himself together, gather the green- tag files, and wait for him in the Ready Room. "Oh, sir...please," the muscular blond whispered, one step away from sobbing. "If anyone realizes what is going on," the low voice continued in a deadly tone, "you and the rest of your friends will be stripped and working on the road in the snow within the hour. I doubt that any of you will live out the night." Steeling himself, Gerd did as he had been ordered. No one noticed. The supervisor's desk was some distance from the other boys who were working hard at various stations in the relatively large Records Office.
After perhaps five minutes or so, Voroshilo joined Gerd in the Ready Room. Still in control of himself, the youngster sat slumped at the table. Raising his tear-splattered face, he softly cried out, "Please, Comrade Lieutenant... I'm straight. I've never..." "You have a choice, you German swine," Voroshilo grated out between his teeth. "Give me noise or a disturbance and you're dead in the snow. Your life - and your friends' lives - for your ass... Not a bad trade, yes?" His hands reached down and pulled Gerd to his feet, then tore the shorts from his body.
Fashioning a rough gag from the rags, he pushed the lad down onto the table on his stomach. His eyes wide with lust, Voroshilo kicked the blond's legs far apart and reached under the trembling body for his swollen genitals. His tongue in league with his fingers and a smallish, heavily lubricated hand opened the virgin lad. Despite himself, the muscular Gerd eventually began moaning and thrusting against the pressure. Evidently counting that a minor victory, the Lieutenant then rammed his cock into the boy's gaping hole and viciously raped him until a bloody froth escaped from his torn anus.
No more than a half hour had passed since Gerd had returned to the Office when Josef looked up from a particularly painstaking task. (Operating in a situation where Russian wasn't his native language - and where there was something less than zero tolerance for errors - did demand concentration.) Eventually, his eyes fell on Gerd who had returned to cabinet filing. Immediately, he knew that something was wrong...seriously wrong. He jumped as Thomas, who had been copying a report, dropped his pen and bent down to retrieve it. As Thomas returned to his stool, he was able to give Josef a quick glance that could not be seen by Voroshilo. He had seen that glance before - and, on more than one occasion, it had saved his life. Freeze... All senses at high alert, but do nothing, at least for the moment...
As the boys filed into the Ready Room less than 20 minutes later, everyone realized that Gerd was in trouble. Indeed, the Office door had no sooner closed than he collapsed. As they worked to bring him to, the fantastic dinner on the table went untouched. Though seemingly unable to make a sound, tears poured out of his eyes as he slowly came regained consciousness. Tossing his head to and fro, he was sweating so heavily that the stubble on his head was actually plastered to his skull. Strangely, when his eyes first focused on Josef, his entire body began to jerk in terror. Quickly, the sergeant stepped back, asking Thomas to hold their friend. Within moments, he began whispering clear orders: "Shorts off; into the showers; let Gerd know that he's our buddy and we're with him; Erich, get that clump of cotton batting out of Gerd's hole and gently help him clean up. If he can sit on the can and empty himself, all well and good - but don't push it. Wolf, use the bag on the table and gather as much of the food as you can. We can't talk here. It's back to the barracks as soon as we've got it together and are dressed." As the Squad prepared to depart the Ready Room, Josef's last action was to move over to a fast reviving Gerd. Holding a nice chunk of roasted pork against his lips, he growled, "Eat." When Gerd play-snarled and snapped at his fingers (before accepting the morsel!), Josef grinned and lightly slugged him on the arm of his heavily padded winter coat. The remainder of the rich meal was placed on a table alongside the regular nightly ration and distributed to all in the barracks. "Raided the guards' trash on the way home," mumbled Josef to the older soldier who was responsible for distribution that night. Not everyone got a bite, but those on whom Lady Luck smiled spoke about the taste for years!
When the boys finally gathered between their two bunks, the air was thick with tension. Gerd seemed ready to tear up again; no one was in good shape. Finally, after a couple of false starts, Josef sat back as Thomas asked if he could say something. "Got something to say, mates," he began, "and it's not going to be pretty no matter how I say it. So I'll just spit it out. The new assignment gives us a chance to survive. Without the time away from the trees and out of the weather, without the decent food...I just don't know. It would be harder. Mark my word, Voroshilo will get his. Believe that, but don't expect it to happen tomorrow, or the next day, or even this month. Until then - and this is so damned difficult - I say we put up with it so we can live. You can live if you're raped; you can't live if you're worked and starved to death. We're all in the same boat. My guess is that rape is just as terrible for one guy in here as it is for the next - but it needn't kill you." Not really wanting to get involved in this conversation any further than he had to, Josef only added tersely, "Voroshilo is a political officer with some connections in Moscow." "I don't think we can force a direct confrontation between the Commandant and him. Gotta go round the barn a little on this one." The debate was heated, but the final vote was 6-0 in favor of Thomas' suggestion. Later on, Josef would give a few suggestions on how to make "taking it" a little easier.
The atmosphere in the Records Office on the next day was cool - but, then, the boys had never had a "personal" relationship with the supervisor. The facts remained: The work was usually completed without error. From the young men's perspective, the work was only demanding mentally - when it was demanding at all - and the food and showers kept coming. Oh, the Commandant stopped by a couple times during the next month. Just stretching his legs, he told the Lieutenant as he smiled at Josef.
During the second month following Gerd's rape, the Lieutenant took Erich; one month later, Thomas. Discipline held, though it nearly snapped when Voroshilo put Heinz in the hospital a month later. A rough branch torn off a tree can do that to a guy...especially in the hands of a sadist. The little redhead was still in the infirmary when an armed guard - one of the older men - appeared in the Records Office and occupied the supervisor's desk until the end of the day. That night, the boys heard what had happened. Walking from his office to a nearby barracks, Voroshilo had been shot and killed. (He, too, had apparently forgotten that there's no such thing as a free lunch!) A guard in one of the watchtowers - a man who had previously worked in the Records Office - was arrested. Subsequently, a court martial refused to convict him. The word was "Insufficient evidence"...or something like that. Rumor had it that the Commandant had him immediately transferred to an NKVD unit on the liberated Crimea. "Nice beach duty - and it's warm," a straight-faced Josef had grunted enviously, though Erich was almost positive that he had seen the beginnings of a grin! When the Squad entered the Office on the next day, a new lieutenant was in charge. Although it took him several months to warm up to his young German staff, he knew his business and he was a fair man. Who could ask for more?
(To Be Continued)
DATES OF LAST POSTING IN NIFTY
Archived in Gay/Historical Unless Otherwise Noted
OUT OF THE RUBBLE (32 Chapters): 10-22-04. CASTLE MARGARETHEN (9 Cs): 12-24-04. THE PRIEST & THE PAUPER (12 Cs): 3-10-05. HIGH PLAINS DOCTOR (12 Cs): 4-25-05. FOR GOD AND COUNTRY (9 Cs): 6-13-05. HOBO TEEN (12 Cs): 8-23-06. YOUNG JEREMY TAYLOR (9 Cs): 9-25-06 (posted in Sci-Fi/Fantasy). STREETS OF NEW YORK (10 Cs): 12-06-06. JOSEF'S FORGE (10 Cs): Posting.