By Rob Loveboy
Much to my surprise, the base wasn’t our morning destination as usual. It was the Inn. No travelling tourists or businessmen occupied the premises as one would normally have expected. Instead, men in uniform milled about. The Innkeeper had obviously made up for the wartime shortfall in clientele, although I highly doubted the Nazi’s were full paying customers as the business and tourist sectors had been.
The ‘Inn’ was not really an inn as conjecture would have it, more of a small hotel. A quaint stone structure on which ivy had thrived and flourished over many decades encompassed the twenty-room, three story building situated on what once must have been a manicured lawn with cherub fountains that had long since stopped peeing in the now moss covered basins. Whatever the name of the establishment on the sign high above the main entrance was, it was obscured by a huge Nazi flag.
The interior lobby was tastefully ornate in dark teak wood. Scenic paintings adorned the walls and sculptured busts of men and women unknown to me were scattered about on shelves and tables. A huge fireplace wall allowed a view into what was obviously a dining room on the other side, decorated in much the same wood finishing as far as I could tell.
From behind the front desk, a very obese man dressed in a starched white shirt and black bowtie greeted the colonel and his entourage of us young boys. Obviously the proprietor had spent better days welcoming better guests who entered through his front doors. Even I saw through the phoniness and fear that the man tried to mask. His survival, and maybe that of members of his family depended on his extended courtesy. As lame as it was he reminded me of my pathetic uncle who had lost everything in spite of his groveling before this officer.
Checking the colonel in, he gave him a key as if all was a normal transaction. He rang a bell and a youth of about sixteen appeared. I recognized him as a busboy from the base camp’s officer’s mess. Claus knew him of course and the two exchanged greetings in German. I was the only person with ‘luggage’ and felt a little uncomfortable when he tossed my duffel-bag over his shoulder and escorted us into the lift which took us to a third floor suite with two double beds.
The visit to the Inn was no side trip, I realized. It would be home indefinitely for the colonel. His uniforms hung clean and crisp in the open closet, the bellhop also showed the man his socks and underwear in the chest-of-drawers. Clearly prearranged by the colonel, someone had been ordered to transfer his effects from the base to his new residence. The only explanation I could reason was that he had had premeditated intentions on vacating the farmhouse that day. I wondered if his original plan was to leave me behind with my family, or if the unforeseen circumstances had forced his conscience to take me along. Sadly ironic, had he known, my uncle had only one more night to endure his nemesis’ presence in his household.
At either end of the common hallway was a toilet, bathtub, and of course, running water. A luxury I hadn’t seen since leaving home in the city. As if things couldn’t be better, Claus directed me to the window. Below was a swimming pool that appeared well maintained above all else on the neglected property.
We enjoyed a fine breakfast in the dining room. No surprise that the fat proprietor would not be able to economically maintain a staff, German soldiers and the valet youth substituted. I would learn later that that was a security precaution, eliminating spies as much as possible in what was accommodation for powerful men who apparently came and went regularly. Yes, Claus was no stranger to the Inn, privy to much of its goings-on; a good ally for me to have.
The colonel left for the base, leaving us four boys to enjoy the hot, humid day in the swimming pool. Claus was first to strip naked, none of us had a bathing suit or shorts or even a pair of underpants. Alex refused to strip, still very sullen and at odds with his treatment by Claus and I. Some of the men lazed around in towels or swam naked. Three naked developing youths drew plenty of spectators not only from those men, but also a few uniformed passerby’s who found sudden excuse to linger about to enjoy a poolside coffee and chit-chat amongst themselves. They didn’t blatantly gawk, however I would have to have been an idiot not to feel their eyes stealing lustful glances at us repeatedly as we used the diving board.
Claus strutted like a peacock, taking a few more bounces on the springboard than was necessary causing his genitals to flop about. I followed his example whereas Damon remained modest and covered himself as best he could whenever out of the water. There was no doubt in my mind that he was fighting off his inhibitions in order to humor Claus’ opinion of him. At the same time Claus berated Alex who sat on the deck hugging his knees unyielding to the peer pressure from the one boy to be reckoned with if he had any good sense of his own well-being.
Most of the crowd had dwindled, the men having whatever business to tend to, unable to steal more time enjoying the view. There were only a handful remaining who I assumed had the day off. Claus meandered his way to a man whose towel loosely covered his lower extremities as he sprawled like a beached whale on a lounge chair, one hand provocatively hidden beneath the terrycloth.
A towel in hand only used to dry his hair, Claus straddled himself at the foot of the lounger with his legs spread wide and they chatted and laughed a short while before rising. The man nervously looked around as he adjusted his towel around his waist from which jutted his unmistakable erection below his robust belly, bade the teen a rather loud overemphasized good morning and waddled his way indoors. Claus waited several moments, wrapped himself in his towel and made his way behind the man, swiveling his head to give us a devilish smirk and a wave of fluttering fingers. Why Claus chose that man to rendezvous in a tryst when he could have had a choice of a few better looking men who were ogling him was beyond me.
During his absence, Damon and I tried to console the withdrawn Alex. He was steadfast in being obstinate and whiny, sneering at me and pulling away when I tried to place my arm around his neck. I couldn’t apologize if that’s what he wanted, nor would I. He was a victim no different than any of us. As a victim, he was just like the innumerable other boys that I witnessed enduring much worse treatment, not to mention his own orphan pals that he had been spared the living nightmare of. I tried to relay that in no uncertain terms but he seemed unable to grasp the reality. In disbelief, he told me to fuck off. I even questioned whether Damon took me seriously or not. I gave up in frustration and went for a swim.
Claus arrived back about an hour later looking smug, the kind of upside down smile that one wore when he had something of importance to reveal while awaiting inquiry from the very curious observer. He kept me in suspense a long while to enhance the intrigue before giving up his coveted secret.
The man he went with was none other than an SS officer, he explained for my simple-minded benefit, as the Fűhrer’s hand-picked elite police unit was called. Obviously he held a rank more powerful in the Nazi hierarchy than even the colonel or his superiors, having the ear of the fuehrer himself. In Claus’ over enthusiasm, he described to me what would be the colonel’s extreme delight when he learned that the man was a confirmed homosexual, although a married man with five children who not only sucked Claus’ cock, but got the boy to fuck his ass hard.
Claus had gained personal information and then seduced the man’s weakness albeit, unsure what would happen in the man’s bedroom. Luckily he struck the man’s weakness. I had no idea what all this meant, of course, however Claus was ecstatic and in such a good frame of mind with the outcome that he hardly bullied Alex all the rest of the day. Frank, the teenage bellhop, provided us with a soccer ball which we kicked around the front yard dressed only in trousers and barefoot. Even Alex participated in our two against two match.
Late that afternoon the colonel’s jeep could be seen stirring dust from the crest of the long windy road to the basin. Claus couldn’t keep his excitement in check. He attempted to run up the dirt road to greet his mentor. However, the sharp stones under his feet persuaded him to gingerly retreat back to the parched brittle lawn until the vehicle pulled into the circular driveway. We all laughed as Claus again danced, his feet burning on the sun-baked cement before hopping in the jeep. I was well aware of the information he had to so frantically tell the colonel even if I still did not understand the significance of it. The colonel looked intently at Claus showing no emotion as he was told the information Claus had for him. Afterwards he disembarked from the jeep hauling Claus like a sack of potatoes under his arm to the safety of the cooler lawn.
He asked Claus if we were given lunch. Satisfied that we were provided sandwiches at the pool, he led us upstairs, undressed and lay naked on one of the beds. His cock left no question of what he desired. Claus instructed Alex and Damon to tend to the colonel’s needs. I wished that he had chosen me, but I was more than excited when Claus shed his trousers and lay on the other bed beckoning me between his legs with a smile. Claus thought of it as a certain privilege or reward that he felt deserved to lie as the colonel lay if not showing off his equality to us submissives.
Although I wished to swap places with Alex and Damon, Claus’ cock was every bit as rewarding. Placing my envy aside to please the second-in-command, the unappetizing faint odor of scat reminded me where his cock had been hours earlier. I dared not complain when Alex wasn’t living up to his due role. The colonel relayed his displeasure to Claus who, in-turn, screamed at the sniveling boy who had placed his burden onto Damon who didn’t complain for having to make up for Alex’s apathetic approach if only to protect his friend. I admired Damon for that loyalty to Alex. Still, he remained stubbornly defiant.
With one vicious shove of his foot, the colonel sent the boy flying off the foot of the bed to crash on the floor where he cowered and sobbed uncontrollably. Damon flinched in momentary reaction to tend to his downed friend, wisely prudent was his reconsideration of making that move that would have placed both his and Alex’s position and ultimately their lives in jeopardy. I had little doubt that Alex’s fate was sealed by then. I felt sorry for his foolishness, but pleased that he hadn’t brought Damon’s wits down with him.
A knock on the door was the next disturbance. The colonel yelled for the intruder’s identity, finding it was Frank who had an important message to deliver. Entry granted, the bellboy blushed at the scene and hesitated, his hand still on the doorknob as if ready to withdraw, perhaps misunderstanding the colonels muffled order to enter, he apologized. The colonel beckoned him in, stepping over whimpering Alex which must have been an added peculiarity. The naked Nazi still receiving a blowjob asked Frank to recite the note which read that the SS officer requested his presence at dinner to discuss internal matters brought to the attention of the Schutzstaffel.
The blood curdled in my veins. After what Claus had told me about the SS, I feared that the colonel was in grave trouble. It could only be the assassination of the two criminal soldiers that brought the fat investigator to town. Although Claus had pre-warned him, the colonel showed just a quiver of concern upon his lips now pursed in a ghost smile as he sat up in bed.
It was Claus who dismissed Frank, a liberty I thought astonishingly presumptuous when he instructed the bellboy to take Alex with him and detain him pending final orders from the colonel. The colonel raised his hand and halted Claus. He instructed him to advise the SS man that he would be honored to meet him at dinner and for Frank to arrange with the maitre’d a terrace table closest to the swimming area with no other diners within fifteen feet of the two powerful men. My mother often said that she could see the wheels turning in my head when I was absorbed in something, I could see those same phantom wheels spinning in the mastermind’s head.
Sex was no longer on the agenda, the mood stymied by the strategic need for planning in a hushed conversation with Claus as Damon and I played a game of checkers. Both of us could sense the tension rising from across the room. I wasn’t wrong in my summation that a wolf was in our midst. A wolf much larger and meaner than the evil one that presided unchallenged over his pack; the supreme ruler in his vast den of iniquity; the very man that finally showed a weakness to another man though it was well masked.
Earlier, I had wondered about Claus’ random decision to go with the vile looking man and if he had truly been randy. I also continued to wonder why that man and not others that he could easily have seduced. I almost felt stupid and then laughed under my breath at how naïve I was. I’d known the answer all along. Claus’ role had been to ferret out potential adversaries of the man that he … well, loved; the man who was his guardian. Claus was no fool. He saw the SS officer as a threat as soon as he discovered the man’s status and sudden presence being more than a bit of coincidence.
The Schutzstaffel didn’t usually make house calls to war bound encampments preferring, instead, to stay well clear of field operations.
The colonel dressed in his finest uniform complete with medals strung on his tunic that I had not seen displayed before. He was handsome as ever. Looking in a mirror, he placed his cap perfectly on his head as Claus fussed and spit shined his leather boots before pulling each over and up the man’s calves tying them tight just below the knees. I caught the man’s eye, smiled and clapped in a little girl-like manner. I was smitten in a way that I felt a pang of shame wondering what the hell possessed me to do such a foolish thing. He smiled down at me, chuckled with an amused look and, with his leather gloves in hand, he led his wolf cubs obediently trailing from the room.
We couldn’t resist having a little fun in mimicking the goose step all over again as we had tormented our chaperone the day before. Our bare feet slapping the tiled floor of the hallway gave us away rather quickly. He abruptly turned and caught us red-handed, sneered, then smirked and gave us the Nazi salute. We returned the salute while, at the same time, desperately trying to keep straight faced despite our muffled giggles. Now being well behaved, we carried on walking in step behind the colonel. We bypassed the lift in favour of taking the stairs down.
Claus and the colonel exchanged glances as we paused in the ground floor stairway before he made his way into the lobby. Claus held me and Damon back for several minutes. Claus then peered around the lobby area making certain it was safe from whatever might be lurking about. He then led us quickly to the pool area and, once at the threshold, he cautioned us not to look for the colonel who would be seated for dinner. A three-foot lattice fence separated the dining terrace from the poolside leisure area.
Inside, the dining room was rife with patrons, however only a handful occupied tables on the terrace while half a dozen men opted to linger around the horseshoe-shaped bar that served both indoor and outdoor common areas. As we sat at a patio table, I found it impossible not to steal glances at the colonel and his dining partner engaged in what could be construed as an intense conversation on the part of the SS officer if his red face was any indication. The colonel elbows rested confidently on the table; his fingers were steeped to his nose and chin in a bemused sort of way although he was listening politely.
When I heard mine and Claus’ name called by the colonel waving us over, I willed my wobbly legs up and forward to the lattice fence unsure what role might be expected of me. Claus signaled Damon to remain seated. When the SS man saw Claus’ face, a look of sheer dread froze upon his red face turning quickly to a deathly pale. The colonel made formal introductions.
He noted that Claus was a loyal member of the Nazi Youth program, handpicked by the colonel himself as personal protégé and assistant to bravely accompany the colonel to the Polish front as part of the young man’s officers’ training.
The obese man’s jowls quivered, his brow sieved sweat that he mopped profusely with his napkin, falling deep into the colonels deceit. The colonel next introduced me as his personal valet, a true Aryan, but of lower class parentage, but an aspiring infantryman. He mentioned that I was the boy who had also been raped at the same time as the brave young soldier who had been assigned guardianship during a granted leisure day’s picnic at the beach. The colonel went on to say that both the young soldier and I were given the reward for exemplary service to him.
The colonel had the full attention of his near-close-to hyperventilating adversary. He went on telling his concocted version of events, saying that I was distraught at Jon’s murder and afraid of telling the truth of prior circumstances leading up to his demise. He further stated that I had finally sought out Claus to reveal the horrible encounter that Jon was afraid to say anything about and had forbidden me to tell anyone after threats were made by the men and we took very seriously because of rifles fitted with bayonets held to our throats.
The colonel finished his well thought out accounts and for emphasis, leaned across the table and venomously reminded the man that homosexuality within the Nazi regime was an abomination of military ethics. He also reminded his listener how especially hideous was the raping of the Motherland’s children not to mention the Fuhrer’s own valiant young men fighting for the future that he, the Fuhrer, was counting on to uphold the Nazi vision of European superiority and dominance. He looked away from the man and spat at the ground.
Composing himself, he then took a serious chance and offered the investigator his own private interrogation of me for his records if need be. An offer, that if accepted, would highlight my lack of the German vocabulary and would have certainly raised some suspicion in the man’s mind as to my Aryan status. The SS man never called the colonel’s bluff. He had been smacked down in his own private shame and wanted nothing more than to close his case without fanfare.
The SS officer probably took some comfort in thinking that Claus was also a homosexual and stood to lose his dignity and respect by his mentor, the colonel, thus, unlikely that the boy would expose him. The possibility of both of them being shot point blank by the man who so obviously hated homosexuals clearly indicated that it was time to shut up.
What a grand play of mental warfare the maestro had carried out to protect himself from the druthers of the protocol of a military investigation. I learned later, the SS often over-reacted in fearsome ways, often unfounded; and were very adept at manufacturing true facts of events in order to pompously strut their importance to intimidate and discredit weak minded individuals who may or may not have had anything to hide. The officers serving in each branch of the military feared the protocol involvement and meddling of the Schutzstaffel in their command affairs.
The common enlisted soldier would have had very little interaction with the Schutzstaffel whose existence was to maintain law and order of the officers corps, not the peons whose illegal actions usually fell under the responsibility of their own Geheime Feldpolizei (Secret Field Police) or GFP, which was the secret military police of the German Wehrmacht until the end of the Second World War.
The fat officer complained of a sore belly, shook the colonel’s hand and assured him that his investigation was closed. His report would be conclusive and state that the colonel acted rightly in accordance to military law dealing with homosexual rape. Case closed. He rose to his feet, nodded to me and gave Claus an extended, appreciative look and walked away. As far he as was concerned his homosexual secret was still safe. The colonel never had to use that against him as a last resort, but I was confident he was prepared to do so as hypocritical as it would have been.
It was easy to see how the colonel managed to have young boys of his choosing brought along to the front by having the Hitler Youth Organization fast-track his beautiful boy-toys into the army and taking civilian youth under the guise of valets. He called in favours through blackmail of high ranking pedophiles that he had arranged interludes with to enjoy the forbidden Aryan boys. He also used Claus to seduce and weaken the morals and resolve of men who otherwise wouldn’t have normally entertained the thought of homo-sex but by weakened inhibitions through alcohol or sheer emotional loneliness, maybe even peer-pressure during one of the colonel’s ‘so called’ sex parties. I could even imagine that a few generals unfortunate enough to have passed out drunk at the colonel’ residence would be too irresistible a target. They would wake up only to find themselves in bed with a naked Claus and provocative photographs to prove what the man never did.
One way or another, they fell into the pedophile’s arena and the colonel was somehow aware that the Nazi party was rife with homosexuals. He had done his homework well and he had become invincibly powerful. Claus was in the colonel’s favor again. I wondered how many times the scenario had been replayed, Claus, the dutiful envoy behind the scenes, always keen to potential threats against the colonel.
A feast of lamb chops, chicken and beef along with fresh vegetables adorned our table where the maitre’d, an obvious stiff-collared hanger-on of the of the Inn’s staff, displayed an air of panic as three tatter-clothed, barefooted boys crawled over the fence into his coveted dining domain. The colonel’s sneer at the pompous man was enough cause to back off and he reluctantly set the table for his additional guests.
The pool side of the bar was gaining popularity and a rather jovial mood was developing. Men were singing boisterously while clanging mugs of beer that foamed and spilled over each other. The haggard barman did his best to keep up as men continued to flow in. It was a party I guessed; a celebration that brought officers from the base in numbers. German soldiers didn’t need much of an excuse to revel it seemed; I soon learned that the celebration was in honour of Father’s Day.
That realization made me heart sore for my home where I would spend weeks crafting a Father’s Day card with ribbon and crepe paper. I would quill a beautiful poem in my finest penmanship on the inside, practicing the difficult scroll text several times the difficult scroll text on paper before daring to chance a misspelled word or an ink blotch. We would always go to my grandfather’s summer house where almost all my relatives gathered to honor the family patriarch. I wondered if that was where my parents were right now and thinking about me. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever even see them again.
The drunker the men got, the louder they became. Many had shed their uniforms to swim in the pool. Some were clad in their underwear whereas others were naked. Apparently, a Nazi Officer party just wasn’t a good party unless they had some entertainment on hand. Eight scared young faces, barefoot and topless, were being welcomed on their return to the Inn for another night of pleasure—boy duties—but to a far lesser degree of brass decorated men. Somehow, I wanted to believe their predecessors would have been far more gentlemanlike than the pack of wolves present.
Utter chaos ensued. Outnumbered by five men per boy, they were being manhandled and groped, passed around like potato-sacks and inevitably stripped of their trousers. It was all in fun at first, the soldiers didn’t appear any more physically aggressive than slapping asses. Any man who wanted a blowjob didn’t have to ask because the boys had been well versed. They went from man to man, and in German asking, ‘Kann ich suagen ihre schone Deutsche penis fur ihre Vatertag?’ (May I please suck your beautiful German cock for your Father’s day?), and there was plenty of cocksucking to be seen from our table as we awaited the delivery of our strawberry parfait dessert. While we waited, Claus made Damon and I rehearse the phrase until we got it perfect.
No doubt, we would be joining the festivities in due course. Soon another troop carrier arrived. I wasn’t at all afraid. If the colonel wanted all his men to be sucked off, I would happily oblige his wishes. I just prayed that oral would be the only expectations of the ever growing drunk and disorderly crowd; a crowd that seemed content on getting blowjobs while standing around talking. The boys were on their knees in front of men fully dressed with their cock’s exposed through unbuttoned flies, sharing a warm mouth between them as if it was as natural as sharing a bowl of pretzels atop the bar. Other men lay on loungers or sat in chairs serious about using a mouth to get off promptly. But by and large, not a single man seemed overzealous abusers, however, the night was still young, and I was no fool.
The colonel told us to join him for dinner. An obvious stiff-collared hanger-on of the Inn’s old staff displayed an air of panic seeing three tatter-clothed, barefooted boys crawling over the fence into his coveted dining domain. The colonel’s sneer at the pompous man was enough cause him to back off and he reluctantly set the table for his additional guests.
After a dessert of strawberry-mousse, Claus looked around at our empty bowls and, with a nod from the colonel, he summoned men close by the fence and Damon and I were eagerly passed along overhead by many men. When we reached the bar area, we were naked, shirts and trousers discarded somewhere along the way by what were many rough and gentle hands that either tickled or squeezed and hurt my balls. As we were passed around by almost every man present, the echoes of ‘pretty boy’ sounded in my head like warning bells that frightened me.
I managed to raise my head and see Claus sitting beside the colonel with his arm around the man’s shoulder, Frank had joined them, all laughing at me or perhaps I was imagining it. Regardless, Claus still had his man and had reinforced that fact with me. Much too valuable was he to the colonel and much too smart was he to let any potential threat of the likes of me interfere with his and the colonel’s relationship. I was simply another expendable boy-whore.
I looked over at Damon who was now on his knees servicing a young Feldwebel or Staff Sergeant. As I neared the moment when I, too, would join the other boys on their knees servicing these soldiers. I wondered about the six-hundred or so Aryan German men under the colonel’s command who, because their wives and girlfriends remained back at home, were strongly encouraged to abuse the local Polish boys or, for that matter, boys of any other overrun country that they had previously set foot in. All sanctioned by their leader. as acceptable wartime behaviour and without conscience so long as it is not mutual contact, meaning it’s okay to get sucked by, or fuck the enemy, just don’t return any favours.
But what came rushing into my thoughts was the fact that Claus and Jon were not like me. They were not Polish. They were young Aryans; blond, blue-eyed Germans; members of his own race; young men he had somehow manipulated the system of red-tape and shepherded them through it. Could it be that Claus and Jon, and now perhaps even Frank were not the only ones in his private, secret stock of young Aryan Germans brought along for his carnal personal preference during his indefinite stay in Poland? I remembered Jon hinting that he had been intimate with the man, but he never elaborated, and, are there other young Germans back at base he is secretly fucking? Was this a monster preying on the youth of his own race against his own military rules? He was a shrewd man.
‘Kann ich suagen ihre schone Deutsche penis fur ihre Vatertag, Heir Offizier?’ I knelt and asked the shy looking young officer. He freed his hard cock from the confines of his trousers, and began pulling my head to his organ. Just as he slipped the dripping head between my lips, I could not help but feel hurt and even anger as I came to the realization of the colonel’s dark ambitions but, what was even scarier, was that it was a plan that was only now all making sense. Knowledge is power, but I wouldn’t know what to do with anyway!
to be continued . . .