OUT OF THE RUBBLE - 10
Copyright 2004 by Carl Mason
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 author. Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the author at carl5de@netscape.net.
This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between a young adult male and young male teenagers. Nevertheless, "Out of the Rubble" is neither a strictly "suck and fuck" exercise nor is it a story that focuses on the "love of adults for the young"...often without sex or with the mere suggestion of sex. If you are looking for these types of erotic fiction, there are fine examples of each on Nifty. Something slightly different is required here.
However based on real events and places, "Out of the Rubble" is strictly fictional. Any resemblance to actual events, or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Further, this 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!
PART 10
(Revisiting the End of Part 9)
As Andreas waited - the canoe unpacked - the only storm that he sensed was a weight that pressed increasingly on his heart. What had he done? He had pursued another human being whom he had sensed was gay. He had offered that human being his love. Despite all the pain and fear that it entailed, that love had been accepted - accepted by a young man who was just coming out of his own "valley of the shadow of death." The "simple truth," however - whatever his feelings for Rolf - was that he loved Sam. Seventeen year olds...
(Continuing Our Story : To Do No Harm)
As they washed up on the morning following the boys' return to Tieferwald, Andreas asked if he might speak with Sam at some length and privately.
"Problems, Big Guy?" Sam had asked.
"Yeah..." had come Andreas's typical adolescent reply...and then more atypically, "I need to talk. Can we get together soon?"
Affectionately blowing lightly on his ear, Sam replied, "Well, baby, you know that when it comes to my time and energy, you're first in line. Why don't you join me for lunch today? I'll tell my secretary that I might be a little late returning to the office. Is that ok?"
His sunny grin reflected in the bathroom mirror , Andreas replied, "I like it when you call me 'baby,' Sam. Yeah, that's fine." With that, Andreas twisted his neck and bent backwards, giving him a quick kiss before he headed for one of his favorite rooms...the kitchen.
As he ambled across the City park shortly after 1200 hours (12:00 pm), Andreas spotted Sam sitting in one of his favorite spots, the ruined old shell where his lover had first discovered him so many months before. Leaning back against the pillar against which he had once leaned, Sam raised his arm in greeting and motioned for the youngster to join him.
"Some day we're going to restore this park, Andreas...the trees and flower beds and walkways, maybe even the statue that once stood here. I can see it filled with happy people, strolling in the sun, pushing baby carriages...little kids chasing puppies. But that's not what you wanted to talk to me about, is it?" his Captain asked.
Shyly nodding in the negative - and eagerly accepting the sandwich that Sam proffered - Andreas immediately launched into a story of his Uncle Erich. It seems that although Uncle Erich had been a history professor at the University in the heavily German city of Pressburg [today's Bratislava, the capital of Slovakia], several of his friends had been medical doctors. In their never-ending arguments about ethical questions, they had often talked about the "Hippocratic Oath" which binds physicians to do no harm to their patients. Andreas allowed that he saw that as a pretty good idea, but that it didn't seem to a sufficient rule to live by.
"Why's that, Stud?" Sam had asked.
On saying that he felt a man ought to leave the world a little better place than he had found it rather than simply avoid harming anyone, Andreas's face suddenly grew sad. He looked...almost old. Suddenly, the youth stopped and looked beseechingly at his mentor. If 17 year old males found it easy to cry, he would have been sobbing on Sam's shoulder. As it was, all of the pain that he had experienced - and given - on his wondrous canoeing adventure in southern Bavaria poured out in a torrent of words. He told Sam that he had known that Rolf was having a hard time adjusting to civilian life after his experiences as an SS Panzer soldier and that this was made harder by having a devil on his shoulder. That is, he had suspected from the beginning that Rolf was gay. Remembering how admitting that he was himself gay had just about torn him apart, he could not believe that he had pushed Rolf into gay sex during the trip. He had WANTED him so badly that he BURNED! Tears in his eyes, he recounted Rolf's reactions - even though the boys were now talking again. Worse, he added, he had made love to him at the same time that he loved Sam. Instead of avoiding harm and, perhaps, making things a little better, he had hurt all three of them...Rolf, Sam, and himself.
"I'm still a real Scheisskopf [shit-head], Sam. Worse, I don't know what in hell to do now!"
Realizing that he had an actual problem on his hands, Sam immediately dropped his earlier "light" approach and spoke seriously with his charge. Looking into the youth's eyes for a moment, he said, "You're no Scheisskopf, Andreas; you never were, and I doubt that you ever will be. You've already taken the first two steps in cleaning up this mess. In fact, you may already have a plan."
In answer to the expected "How's that" question, Sam went on to point out that Andreas was already being honest with himself and with him. Further, he had admitted that he didn't know what to do about the problem. "That's the beginning of wisdom," he said with a smile. "Now you're ready to do something about it! What do you think? What's possible? Anything that SHOULDN'T be attempted?"
Andreas, who obviously had been wracking his brain over the problem, immediately suggested two things. First, he probably shouldn't push Rolf sexually, at least for the time being. Things were too unstable. Later on? Well... Secondly, he didn't think that Ehrhardt should be involved, at least at this time. They were War buddies - and the SS and the HJ held a very narrow attitude about "fooling around." There was no way of knowing whether Ehrhardt would be as flexible with Rolf has he had been earlier with Andreas. If Ehrhardt began exploring why Rolf was upset and Rolf said the wrong thing, the results could be disastrous...for everyone concerned.
Nothing that he tended to agree as regards Ehrhardt - though they should probably both keep their eye on Rolf for the time being - Sam asked if Andreas were saying that having sex was bad.
"No, of course not!" Andreas asserted vehemently. "It only BECOMES bad when you hurt someone else - maybe by"using" them - or hurt yourself. There's another problem, Sam. I really do love Rolf. It's just that I don't love him the way I do you. What about that?"
"Before I answer, are you open to a suggestion?" Sam interjected. On being told to go ahead, Sam noted that the two boys had a lot in common, for example, outdoor activities, physical fitness, and sports. Just because they had gotten their fingers (or something like that) a little singed on the canoe trip, Andreas shouldn't back off. "If you ARE his friend, BE his friend!" he advised.
As regards the earlier question they needed to talk about a little distinction between "loving" and "being in love with." Unfortunately, Sam had a big-wig coming in from Nuremberg and needed to get back to the office. If it were ok, they'd continue their discussion tonight. Sam paused and added, "Damn, Big Guy! I DO love you so!"
Andreas grinned and simply replied, "Me, too, Sam."
The discussion in question was held during the evening. Later, shortly after they had stripped and slipped into bed, Sam drew Andreas's body closer to him. Nibbling on the back of the neck and grinding his crotch into the boy's backside, he said seductively, "I was talking to a pretty girl this afternoon and have something kinda fun to show you. Interested?"
Needless to say, Andreas immediately rolled over and, giving Sam an "I know you've kidding, but I'll bite" stare, sarcastically asked, "Y-E-A-H ?"
Sam rose, came over to Andreas's side of the bed, and roughly seized the boy's cock (already at half-mast!) which he used to "help" him to "rise." "Come over here with me!" he commanded, using the teen's stiff eight-incher to lead him over to a large, overstuffed chair by the window. "Turn around and bend over!" Picking up a conveniently placed jar of lubricant and heavily lubing both his cock and the boy's anus, he then sat down, telling Andreas slowly to back up between his widespread legs and begin to sit down on his lap. "Daddy wants baby to sit on his lap," he crooned in a comical sing-song voice. Placing his hands on the sides of Andreas's hips, he guided the boy down and to the very tip of his erect cock. As the youngster's anus contacted his rock-hard, dripping sword, Andreas gasped and managed to choke out, "God, I've got to meet that girl!" He then enthusiastically positioned his hands on the heavy arms of the chair and slowly, athletically lowered himself until he felt Sam's pubes beneath him. Leaning slightly forward, Sam ran his tongue over as much of the boy's spine as he could reach. Simultaneously, he repeatedly raked his finger nails over the muscles of the lad's powerful thighs which were expanding and contracting as he rode Sam's cock. Sensually, he raked them across the boy's tight stomach before forcefully twisting his nipples. To add insult to injury, Sam suddenly bit down hard on Andreas's right trapezius muscle! "AH, SHIT, SAM!" the boy howled, "AH, SHIT!" Harder and harder, faster and faster, he rode Sam's sword which was matching him thrust for thrust. As Sam began literally slamming the lad's hunky body down on his cock, Andreas's face and the swelling cords in his neck gradually tightened and turned a bright red. Finally, able to stand no more, his mouth open and gasping for air, he threw his thick neck backwards and screamed, AH-H-H-H-H-H, SAM! YES! YES! OH, Y-E-S! Both young men held on for dear life as their bodies spasmed repeatedly and Sam's cum was propelled deep up into his lover's body.
When their pounding hearts no longer promised to tear their chests apart, Sam helped the boy to rise and stand immediately before him. Steadying a still very shaky young man, his hands tightly grasping the boy's beautiful cheeks, he lovingly licked the remnants of a massive orgasm from a cock that was still as hard as steel!
"Hell, Sam, I've really got to meet that girl!" Andreas panted.
(Photo Shoot)
The Newest (Oldest?) Game in Town
"Have you ever met the delightful 'Herr Schmidt, Rolf?" Andreas asked as the boys kicked a ball back and forth on the back grass.
"Nah, who's he?" Rolf responded.
"He's one of three or four photographers around town who are making a lot of money taking pictures and selling them to the military and rich old farts up in Frankfurt. He tried to sell them in Cologne, but the Brits kicked him out of their Zone. Ha! It's one of the few 'growth industries' in Germany!"
"What kind of pictures?" Rolf persisted.
"You know," Andreas leered, "THOSE kind...boys, girls...HOT!"
"Oh," Rolf responded with a disgusted look. "Who would do something like that - and why? I sure as hell wouldn't!"
"You don't have to, Rolfie! No one HAS to. Let me grab a couple of Cokes from Sam's private stock and I'll tell you about it."
We rejoin the boys who have put away the football and are seated under one of Tieferwald's rare trees at the back of the grassed area. Swigging their Cokes, they've been talking for several minutes. Andreas is speaking.
". . . and, you know, it helps to have a few Marks in your pocket! Besides, I don't mind if it's a nude shoot. It kinda turns me on and, besides, I like to show off my build. It may not be as fantastic as yours, but Schmidt says I'm his best model. Actually, I think I am," he added, grinning. "Since I am valuable to Schmidt, he doesn't say a word when I say I won't be photographed with girls - or other guys. It's strictly 'solo' work for me - no sex, no recruiting, and no work with kids. I agree with you on that one: It's disgusting - and just plain wrong! I team up only with guys our age and some in their early 20s. A few of the soldiers who have returned are really built!"
"But, Andy, you say you only work alone. How about the 'Dead Kraut' pictures?" Rolf asked.
"Well, there's big money in those shots and, besides, the other guys in the pics are just there. Nothing sexy is going on. Schmidt found three burned out tanks way back in the forest that the Americans haven't picked up - a monster of a Tiger II and a couple of those puny Shermans. Soldiers who weren't in combat will pay a pile of money to have a picture that includes them with a Panzer Faust [bazooka - an anti-tank weapon operated by one or two soldiers] and some 'dead Krauts' hanging out of the turret and lying on the ground. The only bad thing about it is having to get into those bloody uniforms, but...you know..."
"Ok, Andy, but what about posing in the nude? How in hell can you stand people looking at you...that way?" Rolf persisted.
"As I told, you Rolf, it's money and it turns me on. Besides not all of the work is in the nude. I've posed in some super sportswear and some FANTASTIC clothes that they brought in from Paris and the States! Man, I would have given my right nut to have walked out of there with a couple of the shirts and a pair of those jeans!"
"You mean that you have a choice of working clothed or in the nude," Rolf asked...with just a trace of a hopeful note in his nervous voice.
"No, not really," Andreas answered, a bit reluctantly. "Unless you have something that I don't know about, the clothes usually come with your first or second shoot. Then the pressure is on to pose in the nude."
Grimacing, Rolf yawned conspicuously and asked, "Do you really trust Schmidt?"
"Nah, he's a pervert! I once gave him permission to clip a little hair out of my crack and he ended up pawing my balls! I yelled at him and he hasn't done it again. That's all I ask."
"You spoke about a lot of money. Do the models get it?
"Ha!" Andreas exploded derisively, "No way, but I get my fair share. I'm his best!" he bragged. "Most of the money goes to the fat cats who make everything happen. You know... You have to have cash, equipment, and safe locations for filming. Schmidt has several - a shelled-out village south of here, a couple of places in the Steinerwald, and some places where the MPs [The Military Government was the legal authority in Germany at this time.] just don't show up -
some ruins in the city, a couple of houses, and a few places along the river. I guess they get paid not to."
Going right for the jugular - the point that was really disturbing him - Rolf reminds Andreas that he has said that people are free to say "No" to the whole business and just walk away from it. "That may be true for me, Andy," he argues. "I have a nice place to live, good food, and decent clothes." Looking directly at Andreas, he adds, "And I have some great friends!" He continues, "Going to school, I even have some hope that a dumb SS-jock can learn how to spell 'cat' and get a job in the Germany that's coming. Still, it doesn't seem to me that it's true for most people in this town. Come on, Andy! Those few Marks that are 'nice to have in your pocket' mean having a thin soup on the table for most Germans. How are they 'free' to turn down a handful of coins - when it means doing things that they find disgusting? You said that most of the models are straight...just like everybody else. What happens when they're told to fuck another guy?"
Without speaking, Andreas looks at Rolf intently for a moment...with newfound respect. 'Maybe I - and some other people - have been selling this guy short,' he thinks. Clearing his throat, he answers honestly: "I've thought a lot about that question, Rolfie - and the truth is that I don't have a really good answer. If I were in their place, I guess that I would do what I had to, at least most of the time. Maybe they're not REALLY 'free' to say 'No.' As I see it, much the same is true when we're talking about providing kids for sex with really OLD officers, Military Government types, or big coal men up in the Ruhr. But are we going to deny ALL people the opportunity to put that 'thin soup' on the table just because some people find one act or another 'disgusting'? I just don't know. Sure, some laws are necessary...like laws against murdering people. I DO think, however, that the Fuehrer was dead wrong. It's not up to the group to decide the questions we've been talking about. It's up to the individual."
"Tell you what, Rolfie," Andreas continues, I've got a couple of photo shoots next week. Would you like to come along - as my friend and strictly as an observer...just to see what's happening? Maybe, that would help you better make decisions for yourself, whatever they turn out to be? And, say, friend, it's perfectly ok by me if you say, 'No thanks.'"
"Man, you sure don't talk like an SS Sargent!" Rolf answers. "Yeah! Ok! You're my friend, Andy - and a damned good one. It's nice finding someone who...respects you. You know...doesn't just put you down because you wore a certain uniform. I don't think modeling is for me, but I'd like to see more...from the inside...as long as I don't have to DO anything!" he adds with a grin. "Just tell me when."
'Well, Rolf's going to get a good look at the game,' Andreas thought. 'Schmidt's got a 'Dead Kraut' plus 'character study' shoot lined up with an American, and there's a rich German who wants to see me in a simulated dungeon shoot. I won't do the real thing, but I think I can give him some stuff that he can beat off to. So...'
On with Business
Shoot #1. On Monday afternoon, Herr Schmidt picked the boys up at Sam's house and drove them to a clearing in the Steinerwald by roads that Andreas and Rolf never knew existed. The camouflage had already been removed from the burned out hulk of a monstrous Tiger II tank. ('If only we had more of them,' Rolf thought, 'but they were wasted in the Battle of the Bulge. My God! Am I actually criticizing the Fuehrer?!' He shuddered.) As they stepped into the clearing, Rolf's eyes just about bulged out of their sockets! Two naked couples were being photographed while engaged in gay sex; one, in straight sex. One beautiful, if somewhat effeminate, young man was being photographed in the nude by a clearly aroused older man with a camera that was more than he knew how to operate.
Walking over to the Tiger, Andreas greeted two other young men whom he seemed to know and was introduced to an American PFC by Herr Schmidt. The Germans climbed into battle torn and stained uniforms and boots, Andreas omitting the tunic and undershirt, but wearing a Death's Head cap and ear phones . After he had been dabbed with some artificial blood, the youth promptly climbed up on the tank and posed as if he had been machine gunned as he attempted to flee the turret. His magnificent torso and arms gleamed...spectacularly. The other two men sprawled out on the ground...grotesquely. The Private (First Class!) slung the bazooka on his shoulder like a rifle and smiled...fiercely. Several pictures were taken by Herr Schmidt's photographer who complied with small changes suggested by the American. (One involved the PFC's resting his boot on the back of one of the "slain" soldiers.) The PFC expressed thanks and great delight, saying that "Dad" would be pleased. That was it. Part A of the first shoot was finished. Herr Schmidt, Andreas, and Rolf piled into Herr Schmidt's car and left immediately for the river. Rolf looked at Andreas, raised his eyebrows, and blew air out through his lips. Andy only grinned.
Arriving at a secluded copse directly on the River Main, our trio discovered that "Daddy" had been kept waiting and was fuming. (Both Andreas and Rolf immediately smelled an officer, probably inexperienced and very full of himself.) He loudly commanded Andreas to strip and ordered that he be rubbed down with a light oil. When Andreas was ready, the officer rather lost it. (Rolf was almost in hysterics - and Andy wasn't far behind!) Fumbling badly - on occasion, actually drooling slightly - he set about exhaustively "inspecting" the young German, managing to touch every part of him that could conceivably be touched. Barking imperially that he would take the pictures personally, he grabbed the photographer's Technicolor-capable camera that probably cost thousands (of U.S. dollars) on the Black Market. Herr Schmidt nearly fainted. His "character study" consisted of about 50 pics of Andy set against trees and the river - a few straight shots, most mildly pornographic. (He was so stressed that he even forgot to order Andy to become erect!) After Andy had toweled off and dressed, the car was loaded and roared off in the dust. Part B of the first shoot was history. When they reached home, slightly richer for their investment of time and artistic energy, both boys cracked up...thoroughly.
Shoot #2: The second photo shoot was quite another matter. Scheduled for Thursday evening at "Herr Otto's" estate near Frankfurt, Herr Schmidt picked the boys up in the late afternoon. Having had to wear a large butt plug since Monday night, Andreas shifted uneasily on the car seat. Cautioning the boys to be discrete, the Director informed them that they would soon meet Baron Otto von Hofsberg, the head of a family that stretched back into the mists of German antiquity. For instance, it was believed that his ancestors had fought with the German tribes under Arminius (Hermann), a Cheruscan prince. In the famous Battle of the Teutoburg Forest (A.D. 9), Arminius had attacked and annihilated three Roman legions that had attempted to pierce the German heartland. Some years ago, he had stood with the Kaiser in World War I; today he was an immensely wealthy German industrialist courted by the officials of all three western occupying powers. They were about to have an "exhilarating" experience.
As the late afternoon light waned, Herr Schmidt's decrepit auto approached massive iron gates set into a high stone wall. As the portals opened automatically, they proceeded onto a winding drive that finally led them to the front of a princely mansion. It was exactly 1800 hours (6:00 pm). As they climbed the stone stairs, the massive front door opened and they were greeted by a liveried servant. Following the servant, they were guided to the great library were they were graciously greeted by "Herr Otto" himself. (Rolf later noted that he could have been a close relative of former President Hindenburg.) Over coffee and cakes, he chatted quietly with his guests, treating them as if they were representatives of some combination of the Pope and General Eisenhower. (Neither General de Gaulle nor former Prime Minister Churchill appeared to merit his attention.) Finally, he regretfully put his coffee cup down, thanked them profusely for sharing their views with him, and commented that all pleasures must finally come to an end. Now it was time for business. From a thick sheaf of papers, he removed the contract that Herr Schmidt and Andreas had signed when the photo shoot had been arranged. Slowly, he read down the list, assuring himself that Andreas remained willing to undertake each of the photographic assignments listed. When every item was read and checked, he removed his reading glasses. Eyes twinkling, he looked over at Andreas and said, "You are a very handsome man, young Andreas. I am delighted with your professional attitude - and your patience with an old man. I hope that this will be the first of many mutually rewarding experiences." Andreas quietly nodded his thanks. "We have agreed, have we not, that tonight's photo shoot will include only those items agreed to and will give no pain whatsoever to you?" When Andreas again nodded his agreement, the old Baron rose, a servant immediately appeared to lend him support, and the entire company retired to the "dungeon" below.
Once in the deep basement, enormous steel doors opened as if on ball bearings to reveal the Baron's playroom. As Andreas and Rolf gasped, the Baron and Herr Schmidt smiled genially at each other. The effect of the great room upon young models no longer carried any surprises for either of them. Guiding them about the room, the old man pointed out large panels that held the tools of torture, some of them obviously ancient and probably of immense value. He cherished considerable attention on the great stone slab in the very middle of the room. Made of a shining granite, it had originally belonged to an Inca chieftain who used it as a ceremonial alter where he removed the beating hearts of young victims as sacrifices to the gods. (Andreas and Rolf looked at each other doubtfully.) The lighting and sound systems were stunning. The finest movie lot in the world could not touch their capacities. Wagner played softly in the background. Flickering candles, dripping in sconces along all four walls, provided the only light. Incense burned in braziers, wafting a smoke into the air that the boys found curiously addictive. Statues of knights, kings, a dragon and other strange beasts stood in several niches built into the stone walls. A large medieval rack, beloved of the Inquisition, stood on one side of the immense room. Several other objects - some of them quite tall and/or bulky - stood covered by sheeting. No explanation was given for any of them.
"Well," the Baron finally said with a smile, "our work calls. Herr Schmidt, I have placed a flask of a 'very nice' brandy and a box of Havanas that I think will please you on a table in the smoking room. Are you ready to enjoy this small reward for your service in discovering such glories?" As the Director nodded in agreement and departed, the Baron turned to Rolf. "And what of you, young Rolf? Where will you be most comfortable, and what may I provide to help you wile away a few hours?" Alarmed, for his agreement with Herr Schmidt called for the Director always to be present during a major shoot, Andreas politely interrupted. "Herr Otto, Rolf is my dear friend to whom I am deeply indebted. My art depends on his presence. May I impose on you?" Although a slight glint came into his eyes, the Baron immediately recovered and graciously agreed to Andreas's "small request." Turning to Rolf, he commented that he had a "knightly advocate" and pleasantly asked him neither to move unnecessarily nor speak during the shoot. A servant quickly positioned a comfortable chair at the side of the room and placed a small table next to it that held a flask of what appeared to be a white wine, a glass, and a plate on which rested a few small, exquisitely decorated pastries. (Rolf commented later that he had never tasted anything so delicious.) And now for you, young Andreas. A servant will lead you to the dressing rooms where you may prepare for the shoot. When you return, simply step up on the posing platform that you see immediately to your right." A servant entered with a tray holding three small glasses of white wine. In turn, he offered a glass to the Baron, to Andreas and to Rolf. Raising his on high, the Baron said simply, "To life and beauty!" Repeating the toast, the boys quaffed their wine and returned the glasses to the tray. Another servant appeared and led Andreas through a side door.
Two others, magnificently muscled and burly, entered the room and stood at attention behind the posing platform. (Behind them stood a large frame on which was stretched a screen of light gray fabric.) Both men had heavy, coarse black hair, were unshaven, and were dressed identically in black...full head masks, full leather harnesses, leather mini jocks, leather bands at both the biceps and wrists, and boots. A third man, probably in his late 30s, dressed in conservative everyday clothing entered with a glorious old Zeiss Ikon camera that Rolf estimated must have cost a fortune. 'Big and heavy,' he thought, ' but with that lens he could catch both the blink of an eagle's eye as it soared through the sky and every detail on the faces of a full company of infantry!' Andreas soon returned with his personal servant who lifted a luxurious white, crested robe from his shoulders as he stepped, naked, onto the posing platform. Given a flick of the Baron's hand, the leather duo moved in front of Andreas with a tray containing a variety of items. Silently and without wasted motion they attached them to the boy's body: black leather wrist cuffs equipped with heavy rings; black leather ankle cuffs also with heavy rings; leather bands at the biceps; a heavy, wide, highly polished cock ring of gold; and a 3-inch leather ball stretcher with a ring on the end to which weights could be attached. Their work completed, they returned to their position at attention behind the posing platform.
The Baron now approached the youth who stood proudly erect, his muscle taut, his chin slightly elevated, and a pleasing expression on his handsome face. "Young Andreas, I give you the first of two gifts that you will enjoy tonight." A servant approached with a tray upon which rested a heavy gold neck chain. "You will never wear the slave's spiked collar in this house, young Andreas. Rather, I welcome you into my home as a beloved guest. I welcome you as the most beautiful young man upon whom I have ever laid my eyes. I welcome you with this gold chain." As Andreas inclined his head, he placed the heavy chain around his neck. "Are you German?"
"Jawohl, Herr Baron!" the dumbfounded youngster barked.
"In this house, you will address me as "Herr Otto," the Baron gently corrected the now nervous boy.
"Jawohl, Herr Otto! Vielen Dank!" ["Yes sir, Herr Otto! Many thanks!"]
"Excellent! You are a worthy representative of the Aryan race!"
Grasping and hefting the boy's long scrotum, his testicles now driven towards the bottom of the sack by the ball stretcher, the smiling Baron went on to explain that he would now add several weights, one at a time, to the stretcher. If at any time, Andreas experienced pain, he was to call out and the weight would immediately be reduced. Slowly, he tried one lead weight after another until the boy's scrotum sagged slightly. Looking into Andreas's eyes and seeing neither sign of pain nor of stress, he added the next heaviest weight, examined the now visibly longer scrotum, and stopped. "Brave lad," he murmured.
"Brave Andreas! I shall now give you a 'safe word.' Your safe word is 'cowardly.' If at any time during our work, you feel pain, you will call it out and the exercise will be stopped. Do you understand?"
"Jawohl, Herr Otto!"
"Very well, the Baron exclaimed. "Let the work begin!"
The Baron's photographer immediately moved in front of Andreas and with quiet, highly professional directions guided him into a variety of poses: front, back, right side, left side, profile left, profile right, head (face smiling, serious, joking), head and neck, head with neck and shoulders, full torso, and so forth and so on. Occasionally, the Baron would move in, smiling and positive, to slightly adjust some part of the boy's body. On one occasion, he laughed softly, offered a few whispered words, and lightly slapped the boy's rump. The shoot went on: poses standing, sitting, crouched on haunches, crouched on heels, legs widespread in front of his body, legs lifted into the air, reclining - on his back, right side, left side, stomach; from the rear legs together and legs apart, cock flaccid and cock erect., and so on. It was easily the most intense posing session that Andreas had ever experienced, though it was also, by far, the best directed. The personal support of the Baron was also a major asset. While Herr Schmidt had remained in the immediate area during previous shoots he separated himself from their emotional and physical flow.
Chains were connected from ring bolts set (slightly wider than the span of the boy's shoulders) in the ceiling to the rings on Andreas's wrist cuffs. In like manner, his feet were spread wide and short chains tightly connected the rings on his ankle cuffs to ring bolts in the floor. Slowly the youth's body was winched upwards until he was forced to stand on his toes. Immediately, the sweat began to stream down his body, highlighting every muscle in his glorious physique. A variety of photos were taken from different positions.
Finally, though they had been taking short breaks now and again, the boy began to tire to the point where he was missing a few directions. He even found it difficult to keep his cock erect when so directed. Again, the Baron moved in. Placing an arm around Andreas's shoulders, he gently kissed the side of the young lad's head. "Brave Andreas, you have worked long and hard and I have yet to hear your safe word. We shall soon be finished. Would you like me to help you slightly to surmount your present hurdle?"
"Yes, sir, I would very much appreciate your assistance - and I do thank you for your great kindness," Andreas replied. For just a second, the weary adolescent felt a sharp twinge of pure terror. He knew that he actually WANTED the Baron to take charge of his will and of his life. How pure one's freedom once won. How difficult and frightening its constant defense.
The Baron reached out his hand and began softly and sensually to masturbate the youngster. "Do not cum," he cautioned. A short stretch of road still lies before us."
A fully erect Andreas finished that set, and the Baron called a halt to the shoot. Congratulating him heartily, the leather-clad assistants helped him over to the granite slab where he could catch his breath.
"You have completed your contract with honor and with excellence, young Andreas," the Baron continued. "Normally, I would say no more. In your case, I am going to offer you one optional activity. I assure you on my honor as a German officer that there is no blame if you refuse. Are you interested in hearing the details?"
"Jawohl, Herr Otto! Zum Befehl!" ["Yes, sir, Herr Otto! I await your instructions!"] responded the fast-recovering youngster.
The Baron motioned for the sheeting to be removed from one of the objects on the floor of the great room. Both Andreas and Rolf gasped as they beheld a giant phallus forged in highly polished stainless steel and thrusting a good 12 feet (3.66 meters) into the air. It was easily 2 feet (61 cm) in diameter at the base, narrowing to two inches (5.08 cm) in diameter before it further narrowed to the tip. "After you had rested and only after your body had been properly prepared, you would slowly be lowered and impaled on the phallus. I assure you that you would feel no pain. In fact, you would probably feel little discomfort. Following proper preparation, most of my models have found this to be one of the more simple of my standard challenges. As an honorarium, succeed or fail, I shall personally give you 100 U.S. dollars (a princely sum in the Germany of 1946!). Note that I would give this to you directly rather than through Herr Schmidt. Would you like some time to consider my offer?"
Andreas glanced over at Rolf, but received no response of any kind. Quickly, he made up his mind. "I should be honored to accept your challenge, Herr Otto. I am honored that you would even consider me worthy of offering it!"
Moving over to Rolf's table, he received a steely glance and an outraged whisper: "What in hell are you doing, Andy? That damned thing is as big as a tree! You said that you never actually 'did' this stuff! It was all going to be 'simulation'!"
"Common, buddy! The money is fuckin' unbelievable! Besides, the 'Master' doesn't know that Sam and I perform this 'stage act' all the time. And, Big Boy, he's bigger than you are!"
Rolf rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. Gradually, however, his outrage collapsed into mumbles and grumbles. In about a half hour, the Baron came over to the table. After inquiring if Andreas still wished to attempt his challenge - and if the boys desired anything extra at the table - he suggested that Andreas retire to the back work rooms to remove all hardware and to receive three special enemas plus other preparation. Experience had shown that they would go far towards ensuring that the act would be relatively pain free. His staff had long been involved with this challenge - and, in any case, enthusiastically hoped that he would surmount it. He also guaranteed that an experienced medical doctor would be in attendance. Andreas clapped Rolf on the shoulder, rose, and left for the work rooms.
Andreas began his preparation with a sitzbath [a therapeutic bath in which the individual sits in a tub with water covering his or her thighs and hips]. Additionally, a softening compound was added to the water. He then proceeded to the enemas. Unfortunately, although their timing is vital, it cannot be specified here, for it is a patented, closely guarded industrial secret. The first enema involved an herbal preparation developed at the Baron's industrial medicine facility in Koblenz on the Rhine. It acted quickly and gently to clear waste from his entire anal canal and colon. The final two enema solutions were used after moderate warming. Enema #2 was based on the Baron's own wine and served as a mild, short-lived desensitizing agent. Though not a drawback for wine lovers, it did leave a slight taste in the mouth for several days. Enema #3 was a rather heavy solution of several kinds of oil that Andreas later complained coated his interior from his anus up to his Adams apple! Fortunately, it disintegrated and dissipated within hours. Additionally, the tip of the steel phallus was heavily coated with an industrial grease that had been scientifically demonstrated to cause no ill effects to life. The Baron's expert attendants then used fingers, dildos, and sheer experience to thoroughly stretch the anal muscles and the lower colon. Finally, Andreas was taught how to manipulate the Baron's innovative shoulder sling, a sling manufactured in Switzerland from adjustable, neutral-colored leather and seatbelt nylon straps with velcro, industrial-strength snaps and clips, and thick, soft fleece. Specially manufactured glass cables - both transparent and non-reflective - connected the sling to the winch. In the theater lighting of the Baron's dungeon, it was nearly as impossible to distinguish the sling from flesh as it was to see the glass cable connecting the sling to the winch. Portable ramps allowed the photographer to choose his locations at will. By all standards, the resulting pictures would be erotic and photographic classics.
Andreas reentered the dungeon to the genteel applause of all those who were privileged to experience the courage of this new Teutonic knight. The only decoration on his body was the heavy gold chain given him by the Baron. First fitting Andreas securely into the sling and double-checking all connections, the sling was then connected by cable to the winch. Andreas and sling were then winched high above the tip of the phallus before being slowly lowered. Inch by inch, the youth's anus approached the heavily greased tip. As they touched, Andreas instinctively tried to clamp down. As he quickly discovered, however, the extraordinary lubrication plus his preparation including the sitzbath, enemas, and vigorous anal exercise had so loosened the muscles that he was essentially powerless to resist. He groaned as he felt a steely fulness threaten his gut, consciously relaxed, and then grunted loudly as his sphincter snapped open for the aggressive monster. The youth sighed as he felt a wave of warmth surge through his bowels to engulf his rock-hard penis. The Baron's staff worked the winch gently to make sure the youth was fully opened up before establishing a fucking motion, repeatedly raising the boy slightly and then gently lowering him. Additional grease was constantly added to the steel phallus to keep the fucking smooth and deep. Whimpering, moaning musically in an absolute fog of passion as he submitted to the foreign invader, Andreas responded to the deep stimulation, pushing his hips downwards to take the penetration deeper and deeper. The Baron's doctor (a renown surgeon and professor of medicine at the University in Heidelberg) finally called, "Enough!" and it was over.
But it wasn't over! In a move worthy of an Olympic gold medal, Andreas suddenly flung his arms over his head and backwards, his legs forward with his feet slightly tilted. In the lighting of the dungeon, the boy's magnificent body appeared to be floating horizontally at the very top of the giant phallus with his anus balanced on the tip. In reality - albeit for a limited time - he was held securely by the glass cables, the swing, and by the fact that he was indeed impaled on the steel. Never before had his soft light hair, his deep chest, his sturdy shoulders and powerful arms, his imposing buttocks and majestic thighs, and his rounded muscular calves shown to such advantage. His own phallus, now a brilliant red in color and obscenely swollen, throbbed as it stretched longingly for the ceiling. Every penile structure was wet with flowing precum and so sharply defined that it could be distinguished from below. As the Baron's photographer wildly clicked his camera's shutter, a gigantic surge of cum erupted without warning from Andreas's urethra and was caught in the lights focused on him from below. The framed color photograph of the orgasmic moment sent to him by the Baron was never far from his sight. The scene was one of wild, barbaric, even diabolical, splendor, only heightened by the strains of Wagner heard in the background. All in the room - even Rolf - burst into wild cheering and applause.
Before the trio left for Tieferwald, the Baron settled his financial obligations and delivered his second gift for Andreas, a gift concealed in a beautifully wrapped box. (On arriving home, the youth found that it contained four contemporary American sports shirts and two pairs of authentic jeans. They were perfectly sized.) He also promised Andreas five hundred U.S. dollars for each and every time he took part in one of his future photo shoots. As he saw them off on the steps of his mansion, the Baron encountered an almost forgotten member of the company. "And what of you, young Rolf?" he asked affectionately. Reaching into the pocket of his smoking jacket, he pulled out his own gold cigarette case engraved with the family crest, glanced at it, and handed it to the startled former SS-jock. "Here, brave German soldier. Hopefully, we shall meet again."
(To Be Continued)