Britain under the Nazis Jack Boot part 3
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I awoke to his stickiness on my groin and lay there fully enjoying it, purring like a kitten. The Colonel seemed oddly zealous, perhaps even fervent using two fingers inside my rectum while the others kneaded my testicles that laid nested in his palm. The other hand held the base of my saliva slickened shaft that his mouth and tongue ravished until I sounded a blasphemy of words that had my aunt heard, would surely have earned me a slap and a mouthful of soap.
It wasn't but a few minutes of eagerly performing my duties in returned favor, when the familiar twitch gave way to several throbs ejecting his half-ounce of warm bitter milk. The hand on my head was again applied but only lightly to tousle my hair after his orgasm. I surmised that he was assured that I knew my place by then, the gesture signified a job well done.
Afterward, we dressed. Sensing my insecurity, he took my hand to walk out into the kitchen to face my uncle, whose feet I saw were wrapped in gauze. Our eyes locked briefly, his expressionless face spoke volumes, there was not a hint of remorse, only hate did I see. I wished that I had kept the German's ejaculate in my mouth and spit it in my uncles hypocrite face. The difficult part was facing my aunt, if she only knew what her husband had attempted to do to me that led to his scorched feet.
Again, The Colonel took me with him to the base camp and to what must have been his office. A tall man rose from the desk and saluted, making way for the Colonel to sit. It was a shift change, I assumed, whatever rank the tired-looking man held must have been of importance, perhaps a level lower than the Colonel and to oversee the night activities. He was younger and quite tall with handsome features, his bright blue eyes scanned over me and a friendly smile beamed which I graciously returned. The men conversed and laughed conspiratorially. He ran a hand through my hair and down my cheek. I had picked up several German words and blushed when I understood him say I was a pretty boy.
Coffee was delivered and the two men became engrossed discussing what I assumed was military business. Afterward, the men rose and saluted, I thought the man was reaching to politely shake my hand good bye, but he held it and pulled me out of my chair. I was bewildered and looked to the Colonel who motioned for me to accompany the man.
He led me to the rear of the tented structure and opened a flap exposing another room; I saw that we were in the sleeping quarters and I realized was expected of me. Two cots and lockers on either side of the small room were the only furnishings. He began to undress and hung each item of his uniform with meticulous care motioning me to take off my clothes as well. I was disheartened by the fact that the Colonel was sharing me once again.
I stood naked covering myself and watched him fuss with his uniform. He paid no attention to me until he had stripped naked and turned to me with a broad smile. He had a very nice muscular body, hairless except for his groin area. His penis hung flaccid and very fat, but oddly short in proportion to his physical size. His testicles were no larger than my own. He laid flat on the cot and motioned me between his legs. No further instructions were necessary, I knew what my role was to be. The mass of foreskin amused me. Even once he stiffened to full tumescence in my mouth, the length extended by only a mere few more centimeters and the skin remained remarkably fluid. I could lodge the chubby shaft full to the base without gagging, his pubic hair tickled my nostrils.
The man displayed no emotion, no audible murmurs, he just lay there with a hand resting lightly atop my head. He occasionally caressed my hair. One very stiff jaw and very long time later he finally spilled his semen in my mouth. It had a sweeter taste than that of the Colonel, I noted. Tolerable. I realized then that all males must taste uniquely different.
I wondered why he wanted me naked if bumming me was not on the agenda. But he did look pleased to see that I was erect and made me stand beside the cot and masturbate myself in front of him. It took me a long time to reach orgasm, self-conscious as I was, but he was insistent that I do so. That strange fetish would become a daily routine thereafter.
He dismissed me and I dressed. Standing at full attention near the exit to the tent was a teenage soldier. He was blond and blue-eyed like myself. His uniform hung loosely from his slim frame and his utility belt of armory seemed to weigh him down. I judged him to be sixteen or seventeen. The Colonel smiled at my presence from behind his desk and instructed the boy soldier.
His name was Jon, he spoke perfect Polish and informed me that I was his charge for the day. It was a great relief to communicate with someone and Jon would soon become a confidante and friend over the weeks but not before sheer dread had me trembling when he said he was taking me to the beach. I fully anticipated being thrown to the wolves, despaired that I just another village boy to be used and abused by his men by day, and his personal bed boy by night.
My nervous behavior didn't go unnoticed by Jon on the walk down the ravine but he made no comment, just a puzzled look on his face indicated his awareness of it. I tried not to stare at boys huddled in the shade; the Germans apparently were not quite finished punishing the villagers.
I was grateful when we walked on by and I sighed in relief when Jon told me that I could go swimming and enjoy the water until lunchtime when we would be expected back at camp.
It was sweltering hot, more so than the previous day and I didn't hesitate to undress and frolic in the cool lake. Nothing had changed from the previous day. Men came and went and naked boys huddled together. Later, I would learn from Jon that the boys of my village were returned after dark and dropped in the town square, the fresh herd of lambs to the slaughter had been abducted from another nearby village early that morning.
I watched Jon sitting upon a log in shade. His focus seldom strayed from the goings-on at the forest's edge. When I joined him, he occasionally surveyed my body squatted naked in front of him, then return his gaze down shore. Several times he slyly adjusted his discomfort within the confines of his ill fitting trousers. I wondered if he desired me, or wished that he could use one of the other boys, if he hadn't already joined in the previous day's mayhem.
He was sweating profusely and I asked why he didn't go for a swim, he replied that he was on duty and would be punished severely. Most of the men on the beach were his superiors. Several times we were interrupted by those angry-voiced men. Jon explained to me that they questioned our distance away from the common area, some even wanted to take me for themselves, but when they learned I was the Colonels' boy, and under Jon's charge, they sheepishly apologized and retreated. Jon seemed to relish in the fact that he held that power over his superiors.
I liked him a lot. I learned that he was almost seventeen and the son of a German industrialist. His mother was Polish which accounted for his fluency in the language. He had been conscripted by the army that very spring, and had not joined by choice. Because of his second language, he was placed in military intelligence. This amounted to little more than his being a gopher and servant to the Colonel, whom, he did like and apparently the man treated him kindly. We talked about his home and mine, our likes and dislikes, and soccer, discovering a mutual love for the sport.
I had so many questions to ask him, and my being of somewhat celebrity status, I didn't hold back. Asked if homosexuality was part of his homeland culture, he replied with a laugh that, no, it wasn't a common practice, but in war-time certain moral standards were overlooked. I knew he went out on a limb when he added that homo-sex within the ranks was not unheard of.
Enlisted men never refused sexual advances of their superiors, that, he claimed was taught early in the Nazi Youth Program, a sub-military recruiting and training organization. Jon stressed that it was all justified in the name of war, because men had basic needs that couldn't be met as they had been at home in the company of their girlfriends and wives. I didn't realize it at the time, but the Nazi commanders had brainwashed the children. Perhaps sexual activity remained clandestine, but the ultimate pedophile manipulation with military sanction was alive and well.
Jon was hesitant when I boldly asked, but admitted that he had indeed slept with many men, including the Colonel, who had been quite fond of him before my arrival. I detected a note of jealousy in his voice, his scan of body done so with a glimmer of envy before he abruptly stood and told me to dress, it was time to go.
We enjoyed lunch in the officers mess. Stiff-hatted chefs carved legs of lamb and hams at a table in plain view while others prepared the final plates for the wait staff that was as efficient as any fine restaurant. Others hovered around and decanted wine. Another chocolate mousse dessert, my first taste of the deliciousness was granted me when our waiter saw me licking the dish clean like I used to do with the bowl when mother finished icing a cake.
We sat with the obese major from the beach, along with the man with the small fat penis that I suckled that morning. Three other men with whom I was not familiar ignored my presence at the table. Their talk was boisterous and sounded angry but was generally followed with laughter. A harsh, strange language was German, I surmised. I was disappointed that his boy, Geoff was not present
Under the watchful eye of my young guardian, Jon, the rest of the day was spent climbing atop and inside tanks and aboard rocket launchers that were hauled behind trucks. He let me drive the jeep around the compound, first, with me sitting between his legs learning to master the vehicle, then the thrill of a lifetime, driving solo on the highway under strict instructions not to tell the Colonel.
Traveling down a dirt road simply to see where it led, we discovered a secluded beach situated at the lake head. We stripped off our clothes, Jon taking longer to shed his gear and uniform which he carefully hung on a tree branch.
Jon had a beautiful body, despite being so pale that his hands stuck out in contrast to the rest of his sun deprived body. Hairless except for a dark blond trail from his navel that flourished above his manhood that was coddled between two flared, fully packed pink testicles.
It concerned me that I was suddenly appreciative of males' anatomy, especially when my mind played weird subliminal games in my head and I became aroused. Jon noticed, smiled and complimented my body. Embarrassed, I ran to the water and submerged myself. Jon followed in hot pursuit hooting and hollering, a chance to be the boy that he was, away from the strict code of conduct of military life.
We tried in vain to catch the minnows swarming around us for no other reason than because they were there and the pleasure of it. We dove for freshwater clams, dared each other to eat the contents, both with an open shell to our mouths, we grimaced as we sucked the gross slimy meat into our mouths and swallowed so as one didn't have bragging rights of outdoing the other. Both of us gagged and retched.
We splashed and dunked each other, got into a wrestling match that escalated to groping, groping initiated erections, and erections initiated mutual masturbation. Even in the cool water, his hard cock was warm in my hand. We never let go of the other as we made our way and dropped to the sand. Jon took control and we lay on our sides at opposite ends.
The moment was surreal when I took him in my mouth and he took me into his. I was blissfully content, Jon's mouth was eager to please as was mine. We were equals, neither held any superiority over the other nor were we relentless in efforts to please the other.
I was on the verge of explosion, my balls complained in ache as I squeezed my groin muscles tight trying to prolong the inevitable. Jon's cock began to throb on my lips. Each pulse thereafter was accompanied by a volley of sperm felt hitting the back of my palate and I let myself go.
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Fetish Porn SitesAbsinthe 2: The Absinthe of Malice By Morpheus The flight from Seattle to Boston had been extremely long and uncomfortable, even with the two hour delay in Chicago where I got to stretch my legs and change flights. My book had given me something to do during the countless hours in the air, though admittedly, Collin had been my largest savior from boredom. The two of us had ended up talking for over half the flight, and by the time we finally landed, I was even starting to consider...
After tea on the Friday evening Thelma stopped me as I was going into upstairs to my room. Her eyes looked wild and her breathing was heavy. “I’m going to a party,” She said in a low voice, “do you want to watch me getting undressed?” I nodded like a puppet. “Wait in my room…I’ll be up in five minutes.” I skipped up the stairs two at a time! I nervously let myself into my sister’s bedroom. I’d been in many times before – borrowing her dirty knickers and stuff to use...
Harry and Rob sat in the local pub in their usual spot in the corner by themselves. They were having a discussion about what to do with Ethel. Rob has been adamant that he wants to hang Ethel by her ankles and butcher her. Harry strongly disagrees with him. Harry is convinced that if he talks to Ethel he can persuade her not to go to the authorities and they will be able to use her the same way the other men. Rob agrees to try Harry's way first but he says" if she wants to argue I'm going to...
kEthel sat with her tits nailed to the work table. Her tits were swollen to twice their normal size from the beating they had received from Harry and Rob and the axe handle. Ethel sobbed both from the pain and the feeling of despair and hopelessness. She knew she would not be able to sweet talk the men into letting her go without anymore abuse. Harry and Rob arrived and again Ethel begged and pleaded with them to let her go. The men laughed and told her they still had a few more things they...
Note : This story is completely fictional!In nineteen forty six Thelma Lou Anderson was married with three kids. Linda was the oldest. She was sixteen. Guy and George was ten and Guy seven. Thelma owned a beauty shop in Kansas City. She suspected her husband Lawerance was cheating on her again. She followed him one day when he thought she was at work and saw him go into a house. A woman opened the door and he went in. That was all the proof she needed. She went home and packed her suitcase and...
IncestThelma was 22 and like all of the young women at that time was still living at home with me and our parents in rural Kent; even though she had a good job in local Department Store. I was 15 and had just left school. The summer of 1965 was particularly fine so it wasn’t uncommon for me to sit around our secluded garden reading a Detective novel when my parents were at work. The difference today was that Thelma was on the first day of her annual holidays and had joined me wearing a very...
Ethel hung by her wrists while Harry and Rob left to get some rest. She nodded off from time to time but the fog of her mind cleared she realized that other than when they punched her she actually enjoyed the way they that fucked her so hard and so brutally. She enjoyed the helpless feeling as they ravaged her body. She believed that she could talk to the two men and they would release her without too much more abuse. She was wrong.As Harry and Rob drove back out to the warehouse they talked...
Ethel hated her name. She was born during the tenure of I Love Lucy. The beloved Ethel Mertz from the television show was the bane of the real life Ethel's existence. There were the jokes about her having to marry Fred. There was only one Fred in her high school class. He wasn't her type; not even if he was the last man on earth. Ethel was every bit the epitome of her name. At five feet even her looks, dress and vocabulary mimicked the character she despised. Although she fought to break the...
Ethel's Pa was telling a story. "A man comes into the garage wanting a new horn for his Dodge. The old bulb was torn. Well, we have horns; but they don't fit his brackets..." "What did he want with a horn?" Ma asked. "Dodge cars don't need them. They have 'Dodge, Brothers' written clearly on the front." "Oh, Nellie," Pa said, but -- at least -- he dropped the story. Ethel couldn't decide which was worse, Ma's jokes or Pa's stories. Pa was fascinated by anything mechanical,...
Damn Katherine and her classy fashion sense... Once again my Mother-in-law had a new skirt suit which would work for brunch, mother-of-the-bride or some other fancy occasion, it was simply lovely. Tonight was one of those other occasions. The suit was perfect for the work awards dinner that my wife Veronica has dragged me too. Katherine, on the other hand, who was looking just so, was all too happy to attend. Katherine's suit is simply irresistible to me. The color, the style,...
Let me say right up front that Gunther was definitely not a young man.I knew he had been around the Santa operation at the North Pole long before I arrived with my bright ideas for cost reduction. I was called in to promote increased toy production by the easily distracted Elves. Those little imps preferred being silly rather than busy little workers focused on their quotas like dedicated employees. As a small-sized human male, I was able to relate easily to the female Elves because they liked...
Fantasy & Sci-Fifrom my supernatural~romantic novel set in Regency England from the diary of Betsy Corning, Darlington, England, September 1815 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I am undone! I have given into temptation and trod the left-hand path. I did not tarry there long, I yet have a semblance of a conscience. But little good will it do me – I will be punished for it sooner or later. But oh, should any ladies read this, perhaps you, at least, will understand what provocation I had endured and grant me some...
When we entered the dining salon, all conversation stopped. I had changed from my travel clothes earlier, but was still in black. Esther was in a peach colored evening gown. As I said before, she was ravishing. Martha and Hatty walked behind us in their evening gowns. It was plain that everyone wondered who this girl was with the Royal Executioner and the Guild Master for companions. Certainly most of the apprentices and the other Guild members had not met, or been introduced to Esther. None...
“Are the statements, that the Lord Executioner made, true?” the Village Chief demanded sternly. “Yes, Un ... Uncle,” the young man finally answered very quietly. “A week in the stocks,” the Village Chief pronounced, “and the same for those two friends of yours.” The Village Chief then turned to me to apologize. “I am sorry I doubted you, Lord Executioner. It would appear that I need to pay closer attention to what is going on with the workers in the fields.” “An excellent idea,” I replied,...