Bill aka Storyguy

Soldiers and Boys in Wartime

Story 1
The Cooking Fire

The two Macedonian infantrymen sighed with satisfaction, their bellies full. The lamb carcass that was impaled on a spit above the campfire was nearly-consumed, and the other members of their mess group had already walked off in search of some evening entertainment. Draco stood up and carved one last slice of leg meat. Niklo sat back against a log, patting his full belly.

"We've been camped here for more than a dozen days, and every night we've had food as good as any I've eaten since I joined up," said Niklo, licking the grease off his fingers.

"Yeah," said Draco. "I'm surprised we haven't moved on yet, but I'm sure not complaining. One thing's for certain, though – we'll be gone by the time the food runs out."

Alexander's army of 40,000 men was encamped outside the Persian city of Aspardana, which they had thoroughly looted and partially burned for the offense of refusing the Macedonian king's surrender terms. Every man and boy of fighting age who hadn't fled was put to the sword, and the women and children were left destitute after the army had confiscated all of the livestock and stored grain from the city and nearby countryside.

"I'd say it's time to go into town and find a whore," said Niklo as he got up. "Do you think I should get wide-hipped bitch with big tits, who can appreciate a nice long fuck from my huge cock," he boasted facetiously; "or maybe a skinny young girl with a nice tight cunt who'll wrap her legs around my waist while I fuck her standing up? Decisions, decisions! So; are you with me?"

"No; you go ahead," said Draco. "I have my eye on that boy who's been watching us from the shadows over there. See him? Cute one, huh?"

"Bah! There you go with boys again. If I didn't know you, I'd think you were an Athenian!" The Macedonian soldier gave a hearty laugh as he dished out the insult. Although Athenian soldiers were part of Alexander's army, the men of the formerly-powerful city-state were stereotyped as effeminate and besotted with romantic love for boys.

"Watch your tongue, you little shit, or I'll slice it out of your mouth," said Draco, as he punched his comrade's bicep and laughed as well. "And remember… everyone says our commander takes boys to his bed, but nobody accuses Alexander of being an Athenian. You go ahead and spend your money fucking a worn-out pussy in some burnt-out building. I'll shoot my load in a nice tight boy-hole for the price of a few scraps of meat, without leaving the campsite."

"Alright then. See you in the morning."

Draco looked over at the boy, who had already taken a few steps closer to the circle of light cast by the fire. "Come here," the soldier called out in the local language, using one of the few phrases that he had learned. He sliced off another piece of lamb and held it out, gesturing the boy forward. As the lad got closer, his appearance became clear. Draco guessed he was about 12 years old, with a self-confident bearing that contrasted with the cringing fear of so many of the local children. Judging by the fine cloth of his tunic, he had been the son of a prosperous man… or else a highly valued slave. But his tunic was now dirty and torn, and the boy's face had a hungry look.

The soldier gestured again, holding up the morsel of meat, and the boy came closer. He's damned good-looking, thought Draco; just the way I like them. The man popped the meat into his own mouth, and the boy gasped audibly with surprise and disappointment. But Draco pointed to the lamb carcass, then to the boy, and then pantomimed eating. The boy smiled as he nodded his head and moved closer yet. Draco grabbed at his own tunic and pantomimed pulling it off, then pointed to the boy. The youngster understood immediately, and in a few seconds he stood before the soldier, completely naked.

The boy looked reasonably fit; not at all malnourished. Draco looked him up and down, paying particular attention to the lad's immature penis. Very nice, he thought to himself, studying the slender finger-length dick with its short foreskin, and the slightly dangling sack holding balls that were just beginning to develop. Without any prompting from the soldier, the boy lifted his penis with his fingers and skinned back the foreskin to display his cute little acorn of a cock-head. Draco smiled and nodded to acknowledge his approval. The boy turned around and bent at the waist, showing off his beautifully shaped butt, before turning back around to face the man.

"Ah; you know exactly what your meal will cost, don't you!" said the soldier. The boy's expression made it clear that he didn't understand a word the man was saying. Draco ran his hands quickly over the boy's smooth slender body, caressing his chest and arms and back, then down to his firm butt… then around to the front, fondling his balls and the cute little dick, feeling it stiffen as he slid the foreskin back and forth across the cock-head. The boy didn't resist or even flinch during this intimate examination. The soldier leaned down and nuzzled the boy's neck, inhaling the light musk of boy-scent. In a time and place where bathing was infrequent, the unwashed lad smelled ever so much sweeter than the soldier's comrades.

Draco carved off a good-sized hunk of meat and held it up to the boy's mouth. The lad made a grab for it, but the soldier slapped the hand away. "I'll feed you," he said, pointing to himself and then bringing the food to the boy's mouth again. The youngster lunged again, this time with his mouth, trying to get as big a bite as possible. Draco pulled the meat back, and the boy's teeth clicked together. "Eat slowly. Better for an empty belly." The boy didn't know the words, but he understood the order. This time he bit just a nibble off the hunk and chewed.

"Mmmmmm!" he purred, and his body gave a little tremble of pleasure.

The soldier held the meat to the boy's mouth again, and he took a normal-size bite. Draco's free hand reached down again to resume its fondling of the boy's genitals. As the boy took another bite, the soldier felt a small hand slide beneath his short tunic and encircle the man's half-hard cock. It became fully erect in just a few moments as the youngster jacked it up and down with a skillful touch, causing the man to moan with pleasure.

The mutual masturbation lasted a minute as the soldier continued to hand-feed the boy. When the piece of lamb was gone, Draco held his fingers to the boy's mouth. "Lick." The boy understood, and he licked and sucked each finger, as if fellating them, as his eyes gazed sensuously up into the soldier's face. "Let's see if you can suck something bigger," said the man. "I wonder if I'll have to teach you."

He walked over to the lamb carcass and pinched off a small morsel. Then he came back to the boy, lifted up the front of his short infantryman's tunic, and balanced the bit of food on the tip of his stiff 6-inch [15 cm] erection. "Eat it!" he said, laughing at his play on words.

The Persian boy quickly sank to his knees. Before retrieving the piece of lamb, he ran his tongue-tip delicately from the base of the shaft to the top of the cock-head. After his lips plucked away the food, he sat back on his haunches like a trained dog, smiling up at the soldier, and looked over at the carcass, hoping to play the game again.

"Suck me first," said Draco as he pointed to his cock, then put the finger in his mouth, and then pulled the boy's head closer with his hand. "After that, you'll have more food," he added, pointing to the lamb.

The boy didn't hesitate. He opened his lips in a wide "O" shape and dove onto the broad cock-head. His mouth slid half-way down the shaft in that first plunge. His small tongue danced all around the glans and the shaft as his head bobbed up and down, taking more and more of the man's boner into his mouth… and then into the entrance of his throat.

"Gods! You sure DO know how to give a suck!" gasped Draco. He took the Persian boy's head in both his hands and thrust his hips forward, penetrating the boy's mouth to the hilt. He drew his hips back and thrust again. The boy took it without a whimper, and without gagging. "Yeah!" the soldier grunted, as he began thrusting his cock into the boy's throat again and again. "Oh, shit! That's so good!" he moaned. But then he stopped suddenly. "I want have a fuck first. Maybe I'll let you stay around, and you can give me a blow-job when I'm ready for seconds."

The Macedonian pulled the boy's face away from his cock, with an audible 'pop'. The erection glistened with saliva and pulsed with tumescence. The boy was breathing hard, with snot running from his nose and spit down his chin.

"Mitunam ye meghdaar goosht daashteh baasham?" said the boy, asking for more meat and pointing to it.

"Sure," said Draco. "And then a nice fuck." He reached down and fondled the boy's ass, pressing his finger against the hole briefly. The boy not only didn't resist; he flexed his anal muscle open for the intrusion. "Yeah. Then we'll have a REALLY nice fuck!"

The soldier sliced off a big hunk of fatty meat, glistening with grease and the herb-infused olive oil with which it had been basted, and the boy stared at it with an expression of ecstasy. Again he let the man hand-feed him, being careful not to anger Draco by taking big bites.

When he was finished the piece, the boy didn't ask for more. Instead, he knelt down on the ground with his chest resting on a sitting-log and his ass raised up. Looking back over his shoulder with a sultry expression, he murmured "man o bokon", meaning "fuck me."

The soldier didn't understand the words, but there was no mistaking the invitation.

Draco rubbed his greasy fingers over his cock, lubing it for the fuck. Then he knelt down behind the boy and wiped the rest of the grease on the boy's ass, sliding a finger, and then two, into the puckered flesh.

"Here it comes, kid!" He positioned his stiff penis at the entrance and pushed his hips forward. At the same moment, the boy dilated his anal muscle, and the fat cock-head plunged in. The boy clenched his fists and gritted his teeth during the penetration, but then relaxed as the man eased his cock further in with gentle thrusts.

"Ahhh; nice and tight!"

When he was in to the hilt, the soldier drew his cock back slowly, almost all the way, and then plunged back in fast and hard, grunting as he forced his stiff penis as far as possible into the boy's rectum. The lad grimaced, but didn't utter a sound. The man's cock pulled back and again slammed home, accompanied by another hearty grunt. He immediately established this as his rhythm, slowly drawing back on the out-stroke and then a fast thrust back inside. It was his favorite way to fuck, whether in a boy's asshole or a girl's cunt. And he could usually keep it going almost indefinitely, making minor adjustments in speed as he approached orgasm so that he could keep himself right on the edge.

The young Persian boy quickly adapted to the rhythm. Just like the countless other times he'd been fucked, the initial discomfort faded, replaced by the familiar warm fullness, and the tingling pleasure in his anal nerves. With this soldier, as with some of the house-guests to whom his master had lent the boy, he also felt the powerful emotional pleasure of submitting completely to the dominance of a strong, potent, and skilled young man.

To show his appreciation, the boy worked to increase the man's pleasure by contracting his anal muscle during each thrust in, then easing up during the out-stroke.

"That's the way, boy!" said the soldier, breathing heavily, just before slamming his cock home with a grunt. "I'll wager you [grunt] were some rich man's [grunt] fuck-boy slave. [grunt]"

"Hey Draco!" came the voice of someone approaching the camp fire. "That looks like fun. Can I have him next?"

"Yeah!" said another voice. "Maybe I can get a suck from the boy while you're working his back."

The two soldiers each had a wine goblet, and one held a pitcher.

Draco didn't miss a stroke, but he was clearly annoyed by the intrusion. "Hey, shit-heads. [grunt] Can't you see I'm busy here?" He kept right on fucking. There was no taboo in Alexander's army against being observed while coupling with a boy.

"Yeah; sorry," said the first man. "We just thought you wanted some company. Come on, Jason; let's go down to the next fire and leave Draco to his fun."

The interference had gotten him off his stride, though. He speeded up his fucking to get back to the wonderful plateau of near-orgasm. But in doing so, he took it too far, and felt himself rushing to the point of no return. Rather than fighting against it, he ran with it. Wrapping his arms around the boy's body, and bringing one hand down to hold the boy's penis and balls, he bucked his hips at full speed, with rutting lust, fucking hard and fast.

The boy bore down hard with his ass muscle continuously, making his hole as tight as possible for the man.

"Oh yeah! Oh, shit… YEAH!" Draco cried out as the first spurt of cum blasted from his cock, deep in the boy's guts. The brutish thrusts continued as the waves of climax rushed through the man, and bursts of hot semen continued to spew.

Finally, he was still. The soldier hugged the boy tight; the beating of Draco's heart thumping on the boy's back. His cock, still imbedded inside the boy, trembled with little aftershocks of orgasm, and the boy squeezed his anus rhythmically in response. Then the man pulled out, uttering a contented sigh, and stood up.

He reached down and pulled the boy to his feet and clapped him on the back. "A good fuck, lad! Now let's get some more food for you. Tell you what…" said Draco as he was cutting off hunks of lamb and handing them to the boy. "Let's get a plate of this meat, and then we'll see if any of the nearby cook fires have some barley mush left over… and get you a goblet of wine too!"

Though he didn't understand a word, the boy smiled joyfully and rubbed his stomach.

"You'll sleep in my tent tonight, and we'll have us some more fun. I have at least two more cums in me before I sleep."

The boy gave the man a hug, as a trail of fluid leaked out of his well-fucked asshole and down his thigh. He pressed his face against the soldier's chest and prayed silently to the god Ahura that this strong young foreigner would allow him stay for the night and give him a morning meal… and maybe even become his new master, now that his old master was dead.

Story 2
The Knight Takes a New Page

"… et lux perpetua luceat eis." Sir Gualter of Hexham closed the small prayer book from which he had been reading aloud, and he watched as two of his vassal yeomen tamped down the fresh dirt on Toby's grave. Death was all too familiar to any man who had seen war, and a quick end to young lives came as often from disease in the encampment as from encounters with the enemy on the battlefield. Gualter's page had been a healthy 14-year-old lad one day, had sniffles and a fever the next, was on his deathbed struggling for breath the day after, and in his grave the day after that.

The knight hadn't grieved over Toby's death, nor would he. His thoughts were instead focused on the need to find a suitable replacement, as it was almost time for the assembled army to set sail for France… and from there journey to the Holy Land to fight against the Mohammedans. Toby hadn't been much to look at, but he'd been a good page… diligent in carrying out his official functions, and discrete (so far as Gualter was aware) regarding the unofficial personal duties that the knight required of him.

There was no time to send for a boy from one of the vassal families on Gualter's manor in far-off Northumberland, so he was greatly relieved when the local baron generously agreed to let him have his pick of the local boys for the duration of the crusade. It would be a peasant boy, of course. Sir Gualter was too low in the feudal hierarchy to have a noble-born lad as his page… and his status and wealth were insufficient to take on a squire (a wellborn older youth, age 15 to 20, apprenticed to become a knight). But Toby had been a peasant too, as were the four other pages who had served Gualter in the dozen years since he had simultaneously come of age at 21, attained knighthood, and became lord the manor.

The word spread quickly in the town of Dover and the nearby villages that Gualter would pay 10 shillings up front to the parents of the boy chosen. The page would be returned after the military campaign was over – perhaps as short a time as a single year. Ten shillings was quite a substantial amount for a peasant family in 12th century England, but Gualter figured it would bring him the best of the lot from which to choose. And judging from the crowd of boys and parents who gathered the next morning outside the knight's tent in the encampment, the offer had succeeded all too well. The knight sent for Old Jim, the most sensible of the five yeomen he'd been required to bring from his manor to provide manpower for the crusading army, and gave him instructions to reduce the number of candidates.

"Send away any boy who is too young or too old. I'll take one old enough to be a squire, but I'll not have a page with whiskers sprouting on his chin or upper lip. And I need a boy who's strong enough, so turn away any younger than 13 years… no; make it 12. Talk to each of them briefly, and send away any dolts. Those who are left, send them for a run around the perimeter of the encampment. I'm not necessarily looking for the swiftest, but rather those who do it in good time, but without ending up exhausted. And it wouldn't hurt to have a page who is comely in appearance," he added. "Use your judgment, and send them in to me one at a time, the best of them first."

Old Jim seemed to favor brawn over cleverness and looks in his selections. After rejecting the first four boys sent in, Gualter was despairing of getting a page with the right combination of qualities. He might have to settle for one who met all of his needs… but not all of his desires.

As one boy left the tent and the next boy entered, the knight's eyebrows lifted. The new boy was comely indeed! Not very tall. But his face… there was no other word for it than "beautiful".

"Come here, boy, and stand in front of me." Gualter was seated in a sturdy armchair and spoke in the Saxon dialect. He was almost as conversant in the peasants' tongue as in the Norman French dialect that all of England's aristocracy still spoke.

"Yes sir!" replied the boy, as he walked forward with a self-assured manner.

"What do they call you?"

"Tom, son of Ned, sir."

The boy's voice was just beginning its change… wavering erratically between the sweet treble tones of boyhood and the lower range of a mature youth. But Sir Gualter was entranced by the sound, thinking to himself that it sounded perfect in its imperfection.

"Alright then, Tom. I'll start off with some questions to test your knowledge and cleverness. Tell me the months of the year." For an illiterate peasant boy, it wasn't an easy question, but Tom rattled off the months correctly.

"Can you name for me the books of the New Testament?"

"Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Acts of the Apostles…" The boy recited them all flawlessly, even doing a reasonable job of pronouncing the difficult Greek-derived names.

"Now let's see if you have a head for numbers. If you were tending 18 cows and you were given 13 more to tend, how many would be in the whole herd. Answer quickly, and don't use your fingers."

"That's a lot of cows for one boy to tend, sir!" said Tom with a cheerful smile. He looked up at the tent's ceiling for a few seconds and scrunched his face. "I think it's 31, sir."

"Exactly so," said the knight. "Tell me what tasks you are good at. What do you do in a day?"

"Well, sir; I gather firewood from the forest, and tend the family garden, and I'm right good at setting snares to catch food. I go down to the sea to get mussels off the rocks. I know how to swim too, and go into the ocean every day that the air's warm. And I serve 2 days a week on the work crews to tend his lordship's fields and castle."

"Have you ever worked with horses?"

"Why yes, sir! I've worked many a day in his lordship's stables… shoveling out the stalls, brushing the beasts. The head groom even let me walk his lordship's best steed a few times!"

So far so good, thought Gualter to himself. "Now take off your tunic, and let me see how sturdy you are in your chest and arms."

The barefoot boy began untying the rope that cinched the waist of his simple knee-length garment, and then paused. "I haven't any britches underneath, sir," said. "Is that alright?"

The man made a bored-looking expression and gestured with his hand to wordlessly convey: "Just hurry up and do what you're told."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." The tunic slipped over his head, and Tom stood completely nude, his body surprisingly clean for a peasant boy.

Gualter kept his face impassive as he stood up to inspect the boy, but his heart began to beat faster in his chest, and he felt his cock twitch. Though he was short in stature – -3 handbreadths shorter than the knight – -Tom had sturdy shoulders, a healthy-looking chest, and a tight belly. What especially interested Gualter, however, were the boy's shapely buttocks and beguiling genitals. His penis was very pleasing in form and more mature than the man had anticipated, with the suggestion of a handsome cock-head beneath its sheath of foreskin. And his plump balls, over half-way to maturity in size, dangled in a soft sack. Though there was no public hair other than the softest blond fuzz, Tom's sexual parts had clearly started their adolescent growth spurt ahead of the rest of his body.

The man stood directly in front of the boy, looking down on him. "Flex the muscle of your right arm," he instructed. The boy flexed his bicep, and Sir Gualter felt it with his hand. There wasn't much bulk to it, but he could feel its wiry strength. The man then ran his hands across Tom's chest, along his shoulders, and down his back… stopping just before he reached the firm butt. "You seem to be reasonably fit. Tell me Tom… do you truly wish to be my page, or was it your parents' choice for you to come here this morning?"

"Oh, I do sir! It was me that heard the news yesterday, and I ran to ask them if I could do it. I'd very much like to be your page, sir, and go off on an adventure!"

"Adventure there will be, but there will also be danger, and more often days of drudgery. My page is my personal servant, tending to all my needs, including dressing me in the morning, and undressing me at night. Could you do everything I require of you and not waver or complain?"

"Yes, sir!" said Tom proudly, feeling for the first time that he might actually get selected. "I will do whatever I'm told and never complain."

"Very good. Now… do you know what chain-mail is, boy?"

"I think so, sir."

"That bundle in the corner there holds my suit of mail. It is a coat and hood made entirely of small metal rings, and it's heavier than it looks. I'll be wearing it whenever there is even the slightest chance of conflict. Go over and pick up the bundle and bring it back here."

As the boy walked to the other side of the large tent, Gualter studied the enticing manner with which his slender rounded butt moved. The man's attention turned to the swaying of Tom's downward-pointing penis as the boy returned carrying the 45-pound bundle of chain-mail wrapped in canvass and tied with a cord.

"As a test of your strength and endurance," said the knight, "hold it over your head – arms straight up – as we continue to talk."

"Yes, sir."

As the lad hoisted the bundle above his head, wobbling only a bit to balance it, Gualter's hands returned to the boy's lean body. "I am pleased with you, Tom," he said, as his left hand slid down the boy's straining arm, across his hairless armpit, down his back, and cupped the curve of his smooth butt cheek. The right hand went directly to the boy's crotch, cupping Tom's balls as if weighing them, and then rolling them in his hand.

"How old are you, boy?"

Tom flinched slightly at the intimate touch, and his voice caught for a moment as he tried to speak, cracking as he said "I'm 13, sir."

"Your eggs have dropped down nicely, and you're well on your way to becoming a man. Yes; I think you have the potential to be my page." The knight's fingers moved up to toy briefly with the end of the foreskin, pulling it forward and rolling the soft warm flesh with his fingertips.

Tom's sharp inhalation of breath made a soft gasp, and his face flushed, but he didn't waver from his task of holding up the bundled suit of mail.

Then Gualter's hand wrapped around the boy's penis, which had already begun pulsing itself erect with the urgency typical of boys in early puberty. As casually as if examining livestock, Gualter retracted the foreskin. The sheath rolled back smoothly and fully to reveal a rosy cock-head, its ridge slightly broader than the cock-shaft. When the man let go, the boy's cock was completely stiff, pointing straight up; and it looked… exquisite! Shaped like a smaller version of an older youth's cock, its foreskin staying back to proudly display the handsome glans, it was almost 5 inches [12 cm] in length and nicely filled out in girth. Now Tom's face was blushing a deep red from embarrassment. "I'm sorry sir! I didn't mean to get the horn like that!"

"You needn't be concerned. It shows you're a good healthy lad – just the kind I'm looking for," said Gualter calmly. "I'm going to ask you some personal questions now, and you must answer truthfully and completely. I can tell when someone is lying or holding back information. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," said Tom nervously, his muscles trembling slightly from holding the weight above his head.

Gualter did indeed have a knack for reading people's faces, and he believed that peasants were particularly incompetent when it came to disguising their lies… all the more so when under stress.

"Do you wank your cock, boy?"

"Why sir! I would never…"

The man put his index finger against the boy's lips, cutting short the denial. "Remember. I can tell if you are lying." His voice was calm and kind… but firm. Sir Gualter's hand returned to the lad's rigid erection, squeezing it rhythmically with his fingers as his thumb glided delicately across the exposed cock-head. The man noted with satisfaction that a small bead of fluid was forming in the slit, and he rubbed it around with his thumb.

"Y-yes, sir. I-I-I s-sometimes w-wank it, sir." Tom was struggling with the triple ordeals of his embarrassment, the growing strain of holding up the heavy bundle, and the intense sexual stimulation of the man's fondling hand. Sweat was beading on his forehead.

"Does your cock spurt seed when you wank?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Do you wank in the company of other boys?"

Tom had a pained expression on his face as he nodded his head up and down.

"Tell me what you and your friends do when you are naked and randy together." Gualter was smiling warmly and knowingly as he asked this, and that seemed to ease some of the boy's embarrassment.

"We… we sometimes feel each other's stiff parts, sir." He paused to see if the knight's face would express disapproval. It didn't. "And wank off all together-like. Me and my best mate, Bob… we sometimes trade off wanking each other's cocks til they spurt off."

"You're doing very well, Tom. Just a few more questions and then you can let the bundle down. Have you ever taken a stiff cock in your mouth, or had it done to you?"

Tom looked at the knight with honest confusion. "In my mouth, sir? Why, no sir!" Gaulther could tell he'd honestly never heard of such a thing.

"Have you ever been buggered… or done it to another boy?"

"Oh, no sir!" said Tom emphatically.

Too bad, thought Gualter. He would just as soon take a boy who was not a total virgin with his mouth and ass. But in all other respects, Young Master Tom Ned-son was ideal. At least he knew what "bugger" meant. That was something.

"Alright. You can put the bundle down now." The knight released his hand from the boy's erection and settled back into his chair.

Tom was breathing heavily and sweating profusely as he let the chain mail down onto the ground, but he felt exhilarated. He looked at Gualter expectantly, awaiting his next instruction.

"Get dressed," said the man. "You'll start your service as my page this evening, after you've had a chance to say your farewells. Go find your parents and bring them to me. Quickly now!"

That evening, well after darkness had fallen…

The knight and his new page-boy made their way back to the tent after feasting at the castle of the local baron. The assemblage of knights, each with a page or squire, had been too great for the banquet hall, so tables had been set up outside, lit by torches, in the warmth of the mid-summer evening.

Tom now wore a tunic of fine cloth, held at the waist with a belt of well-crafted leather, which had belonged to his predecessor, Toby. Earlier in the day, before Tom returned to the encampment, the knight had seen to it that a competent tailor altered the garment to make it smaller.

The boy had heard about the feasts at the castle, but had never been assigned to serve at one. And now, as a guest, he had eaten better than at any time of his life. Sir Gualter had urged him to drink the French wine being poured… with a much stronger kick than the thin ale to which the boy was accustomed… and it made him pleasantly tipsy. As they listened to the music and watched the jugglers and jesters, Gualter's hand had slid up along Tom's inner thigh, under the table, to play with the boy's balls and feel his penis as it pulsed to an instant erection. Prior to this day, Tom had never had his cock fondled by anyone but his young friends. But the good feelings produced by the manipulations of nobleman's hand made it quite easy to grow accustomed to the experience.

Once they were back inside Gualter's tent, the knight's interest was single-minded. "Undress me, boy."

"Yes, my lord." Tom carefully removed Gualter's surcoat, ankle-length tunic, and under-britches, as the man stood passively. Though he tried to politely avert his eyes from the man's naked body, Tom couldn't help but admire the knight's broad shoulders, his powerful arms and hairy muscular chest… and the large flaccid cock nesting in thick, dark pubic hair.

"Shall I get you a nightshirt, my lord?"

"No. I'll be naked on a warm night like this."

"Will I go to the yeomen's tent now to sleep, my lord?"

Gualter laughed. "No, Young Tom! There is still plenty of service that I need you to provide tonight, and your sleeping place will be in my bed tonight… and every night, unless I tell you otherwise." He reached out and took the boy's hand, simultaneously pulling the boy closer to him and drawing the hand to his crotch. "Feel my cock, boy. Make it stiff."

Tom hesitantly brought his hand around the man's organ, giving it a few tentative strokes, and looked up into Gualter's face as if to ask if he was doing it right.

"Keep going, boy. That's it. Make the horn of it."

Tom's hand moved faster, jacking the skin back and forth over the cock-head, pretending he was stroking his friend Bob's much-smaller dick. In a minute, the man's erection stood up almost 7 inches [17 cm]… thick, dark, and veined.

"Ahhh… that's good! Now you'll get on your knees and learn how to suck a man's cock… and then how to take it in your bum."

Gualther unbuckled the boy's belt and let it drop to the floor. "Raise your arms up," he said, and he pulled the boy's tunic off, leaving him naked. Taking both of Tom's wrists in his hands, the man backed up a few steps, pulling the boy with him. He sat on the edge of his bed and pressed down on Tom's shoulders. "On your knees, page, and serve me with your mouth."

Tom had a worried look on his face. He truly had no idea what he was supposed to do as he stared at the manly erection that was now inches from his face. The knight's hand went behind Tom's head and pulled it closer, pressing his mouth against the hot, musky shaft.

"Suck it," he ordered in a soft but deeply resonant voice.

It was an order that Tom dared not refuse. He opened his mouth wide and took in the exposed cock-head, sealing his lips behind the broad ridge. Not knowing better, he suctioned his mouth, like a calf feeding at an udder. Additionally, he rested his teeth on the sensitive flesh as he sucked even harder.

Gualter grabbed a handful of the boy's shaggy light-brown hair at the back of his head and pulled. The cock-head popped out of Tom's mouth.

"You're doing it all wrong, boy!" said the knight in an irritated voice. "Why couldn't you have learned the skill with your little friends first?" he mumbled, almost to himself. "Alright then; get up and we'll switch places. It's easer to show you than to tell you."

Tom didn't quite know what was happening, his senses still clouded from the wine. But he quickly found himself seated on the bed, with the 33-year-old knight kneeling on the ground between the boy's splayed legs.

"The first thing to remember is never to use your teeth, at least until you are far more skilled." The man's fingers lifted the boy's soft penis up, and his face came down to it. It smelled delightfully of the sea and of boy-musk.

Tom gasped as the entire shaft was enfolded in wet warmth. As Gualter's lips pressed against the base of Tom's penis, his tongue danced over the stalk, tasting the sea salt. Sliding his lips slowly back up, lapping aggressively as he went, the man felt the wonderful sensation of a boy's cock pulsing to erection inside his mouth. After running his tongue around Tom's shapely cock-head, Gualter slid his lips up and down the shaft several times in quick succession.

"Oh!" moaned the boy. "My lord… it's so… it's so… aaahhh…" His voice trailed off in a groan of pleasure.

The man's mouth slid off the boy's penis, now completely stiff and glistening with saliva.

"I won't be demonstrating this again for your education after tonight, boy," said Gualter, looking into Tom's eyes; "so learn well this time." He ran his fingers over the handsome boy-boner as his other hand fondled the lad's sexy ball-sack. "You can pleasure me nicely by using your lips and tongue on just the crown of my cock… like this." The knight's pursed lips began a rapid assault on the top third of the boy's erection, his lips concentrating on the ridge of the glans, while his tongue stimulated the tip and probed into the slit.

Tom fell back on the bed, clutching at the bedcovers, arching his back, and thrusting up his hips.

"But it will please me more," said Gualter, after lifting his face up again from his sucking, "if you can take it deep." He took several deep sucks, pressing his lips each time to the base of the cock and feeling the tip of the glans at the entrance to his throat. Then he took several more long plunges along the entire shaft in quick succession, not pulling off until Tom's body was so tense with building pleasure that it was almost levitating off the bed.

"Oh yes! Keep sucking me!" the boy pleaded. Then he instantly realized the impertinence of his demand and added "That is, if it pleases you, my lord."

"It will please me, boy, for you to learn the proper way to suck my cock. Don't expect me to be taking it in my mouth again after this. It's your job to pleasure me, not the other way round."

"Yes, my lord," said Tom, still lying on his back and panting. "I'll try my best."

"Since I've gone this far, boy, I might as well finish what I started. Pay attention to what I do, and then you'll use the knowledge to pleasure my cock."

"Yes, my lord."

As Gualter let the rigid boner slide back between his lips, he knew that he'd be doing it again, notwithstanding what he'd just said. It was such a visceral thrill to suck off a boy! But he needed to trust the boy more before he'd do it regularly. Page-boys could be terrible gossips when in each other's company, and Gualter's reputation might suffer. A knight who was away from his wife was almost expected to take his pleasure by fucking his page or squire, or having the boy suck him. But a man who enjoyed giving blow-jobs to boys… that was a serious negative reflection on his masculinity.

He couldn't help it, though… couldn't help the ecstasy he felt as his mouth worked methodically on the perfect-sized young boner… couldn't help that being on his knees for a boy brought him nearly as much pleasure as he was giving the boy.

Sir Gualter knew the boy was close to orgasm, but he was determined to slow things down and make it last. As his ears delighted to the sounds of coos and moans emanating from the boy's throat, Gualter's mind drifted back to his own youth. He'd been sent off to Bamburgh Castle at age 11, after the death of his father, to be page to a knight in the retinue of the Duke of Northumberland. He thought of how he'd been instructed in the ways of sexual pleasure that very first day at the castle by the same knight's 15-year-old squire, a "late-bloomer" whose cock that was no larger than Tom's here… how the knight had enjoyed bedding both his page and squire, often at the same time, when the three of them traveled across the Channel to fight the nearly continuous on-and-off war between England and France… and then of being assigned to teach the new 10-year-old page in the ways of pleasing men, when Gualter himself had graduated to the rank of squire.

"My lord! It's coming! I'm near to making the spurts!"

As the man's concentration snapped back to the present, he reached up his arms to feel the boy's body… his belly, his hips, his shapely butt… feeling the muscles tensing and straining. There was no holding it back, thought Gualter, so he decided to finish him off with quickly. He combined bobbing sucks and maximum stimulation by his tongue, letting the boy's cock-head graze along the roof of the man's mouth.

Then the first spurt… the taste of sweet boy-cum… and several more, as his tongue felt the little convulsions within the stiff penis. How he loved this! And how infrequently he allowed himself to do it!

There wasn't all that much spunk, as to be expected with a 13-year-old, but Gualter happily swallowed it all, stroking his own cock to supplement the psychic pleasure of bringing off a beautiful young boy with his mouth.

"Oh, thank you, my lord! Thank you!" gushed Tom as the two switched places. The man's erection was even stiffer than before, as Tom lowered his mouth over the glans, licking at it and moving his lips up and down over the ridge. He added the additional touch of twisting his mouth back and forth, swirling around the cock-head as his lips and tongue worked feverishly to pleasure his new master.

"That's it, boy. Polish my knob! But not so fast. Slow it down and make it last." Gualter's hands went to the boy's head and pulled his mouth down onto the cock more; then brought it up; then down again, a little deeper. "Yes; that's better. Up and down… and keep going with your tongue… mind your teeth, now! Yes… good!"

The boy was a fast learner, and eager to please, doing everything the man suggested, and understanding the message of the hands holding his head, as they guided the pace and penetration. But when Gualter's cock penetrated to Tom's throat, the boy gagged.

"Try again, boy. Take it slowly this time."

"Yes, my lord." His mouth went down again. Again he gagged, to the point of retching, but he kept trying, over and over, to take the thick phallus into his throat.

Gualter finally pulled back on the boy's head. "That's enough for now."

"I'm sorry, my lord!" Tom looked ill from fighting to hold down his dinner and ashamed that he had failed at his duty.

"You have many a night to perfect your skill, and it will become easier much sooner than you imagine. And now for another duty that is difficult at first, but quickly becomes easy. Get up on the bed, face down. Put that pillow beneath your hips to raise up your back-side for me to bugger."

Gualter got into position behind the boy, spit on two fingers, and rubbed them around the tender flesh of Tom's virgin anus. Then he pushed them in, a bit too impatiently, and the boy yelped softly.

"Relax lad. My cock will hurt going it, but then you'll be fine."

Spitting again, he added it to the saliva already on his cock-head, mixing it with the fluid seeping from the slit. Positioning it, he thrust, trying to enter quickly and get it over with. The boy's hole clamped down tight, and he cried out like cat in heat. Gualter thrust again, and again failed to penetrate, eliciting by an even louder wail.

"Won't be any secret what's going on in my tent, will it?" said the knight sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, my lord! I couldn't help it!"

Gualter reached down and picked up the boy's thick leather belt from the floor. Some masters in his situation might use it to beat a boy who was resisting his duty. But Gualter doubled it over, with the rough unfinished side out, and held it in front of Tom's face. "Bite down on this when it hurts. And by God, try to keep from screaming so bloody loud!"

"I'll try, my lord. Thank you!"

The knight added more spit to his fingers, probed with them into the boy's hole some more, and then tried again. With Tom far-better muffled this time, the man persisted in his assault until his thick cock-head popped through the boy's tight circle of muscle.

"Ahhh; nice!" moaned the man, as he began rocking his hips, pushing deeper into the wonderfully tight passage. If only his wife's cunt could be as tight as a page's ass, he thought to himself… maybe he wouldn't be so eager to go off to war. He was intentionally oblivious to the pain of the boy beneath him. Peasants are a hearty breed.

Tom was trying his utmost to do his duty. His teeth were clamped tight on the leather belt, and he gripped his fists so tightly that his fingernails dug into his palms. It hurt so much! Like a red-hot iron searing his guts! Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he was determined not to cry out

And then the thrusting stopped. The knight paused motionless above Tom's prone body, and the burning pain dissipated slightly into a intense throbbing ache.

"I'm all the way in you, Young Tom. It gets easier for you from here on. And tomorrow night, when I bugger you again, the entry will be easier too… and easier yet the next night." Gualter's hands massaged the boy's shoulders as he spoke. "All of my pages found that they enjoyed this duty, and you will too. Here we go now."

Gualter began to move his hips in a slow rhythm, making short strokes at first, and gradually lengthening them until he was fucking in an easy rhythm of long wonderful thrusts of his cock. Yes; the new lad is a good one, he thought to himself… a smooth pleasing ride, hot and tight… and he's so damned pretty besides!

As the man fucked him, Tom was finding it increasingly tolerable. The belt slipped from his mouth, and his fists unclenched. His lordship was right! It WAS becoming easier!

As his hips pumped energetically into the boy's ass, Gualter decided to slow things down and make it last. Without a word, he rolled them both onto their sides and bent Tom's upper leg toward his chest. Yes; that was better, thought the man as he resumed fucking. He could go a nice long time in this position without tiring. And there was another advantage too. His hand went to Tom's crotch, fondling the boy's balls and flaccid penis. Tom's cock began to rise up in erection as the knight's fingers slid the boy's foreskin up and down in the same easy rhythm as the fuck-strokes in his ass.

Tom sighed, and his body trembled slightly. He was actually feeling some pleasure! And the man's stiff cock inside his rectum was no longer an implement of burning torture. Now he was experiencing a new combination of sensations that felt surprisingly good.

"You're liking it now; eh, boy?"

"Why, yes!" Tom said enthusiastically. "Yes, my lord!"

Gualter's senses glowed with satisfaction as his rigid cock stroked easily inside the tight asshole and he spooned the boy's smooth back. Then an even more pleasurable thought flashed through his mind. During the coming military campaign (the sixth of his long career as a page, a squire, and a knight) his beautiful and compliant page-boy could be a valuable asset, well beyond the pleasures of their nightly coupling. Gualter could use the boy to ingratiate himself to more influential knights… to barons… and even to powerful courtiers of King Richard. It was no secret that as an assembled army slowly traveled, and during the long waits between battles when it arrived, many of the noblemen sought the sexual variety of bedding fresh boys. He already knew several high-ranking nobles and clerics who particularly appreciated the beauty of boys and he supposed there were many more. The trading of pages for an evening's fun was common. And among those craved more intense pleasures, there were discrete gatherings of a dozen or more men and their boys, late at night and fueled by wine, to indulge in an orgy of naked debauchery worthy of the emperors of ancient Rome. Working his way into such circles, with Tom's beauty as his ticket, would help him rise in status, and therefore in wealth. And beyond that, it would be such wonderfully damned-good fun!

Story 3
Sharing the Priest's Boy

"You are an angel, Gerard!" sighed the middle-aged priest as the wet tongue-kiss broke and the boy sat back upright. It was past midnight, and the bedside radio played smooth American jazz. The mild springtime weather was perfect for enjoying a long leisurely session of naked love-making. The cares of the world seemed a million kilometers away as Father Bertrand's hands caressed the 12-year-old's smooth slender thighs, feeling their muscles flex as the boy rode the priest's large stiff cock with a rhythmic cadence.

The boy smiled down with a devilish grin, and his fingers toyed with his beautiful almost-pubescent erection, barely 4 inches [10 cm] in length but already nicely plump. He pulled back the foreskin to expose its shapely purple-red glans. As he continued to move his hips, making the man's cock slide back and forth inside his ass, Gerard said in a teasing voice: "Tell me again how sexy I am. Tell me how much you desire me."

The parish priest didn't answer immediately, letting his eyes linger on the boy's face, then scan down his sturdy young torso and focus on his perfect young penis and balls. It had been 7 months since the orphan boy had come into his care… undernourished, timid, and naïve; with a body that could have been mistaken for a much younger child's. And now look at him! Self-confident, growing like a weed, maturing balls now dangling down below his penis, wondrously adept in the ways of giving a man sexual pleasure, and insatiable in his eagerness to receive pleasure in return.

"Gerard, my love," said Father Bertrand, as his fingers replaced the boy's in fondling the exquisite erection; "you are the sexiest, most desirable boy that I have ever seen! Your entire body is beautiful in every way, from your suckable toes to the little earlobes that I love to nibble. And whenever I touch your…"

CRASH!

The door to the small rectory was kicked open and paratroopers rushed in. In the bedroom, two German soldiers trained their machine pistols on the two lovers. The priest and his boy were frozen in mid-fuck, the boy straddling the man's hips, their mouths hanging open and their eyes bulging.

"Hey! Lieutenant!" called out Sergeant Fritz Dietrich, laughing but not lowering his gun. "Come in here and take a look at this!"

OberLeutnant Gunter Wolf, the officer leading the platoon of Fallschirmjäger troopers that had taken control of the small village, came in just as the priest was beginning to push the boy off of him. "I'll be damned!" said the lieutenant to Dietrich and Corporal Otto Müller. "What a classic scene… a priest engaged in his favorite hobby!" The priest's deflating penis slid out of the boy's asshole, glistening with Vaseline, as he rose to his feet beside the bed, bringing his hands in front of his crotch. Gerard remained seated on the bed, backing himself up against the headboard and hugging his arms around his chest. His cock remained erect, however, as fear-charged adrenaline coursed through his body.

"Do you speak German?" the lieutenant asked the naked priest brusquely.

"Je ne comprend pas, monsieur," said the priest with a confused look on his face.

"How about you?" said the officer to the boy, but Gerard clearly didn't understand the words either.

"Do any of our guys speak French?" shouted Wolf to the half-dozen paratroopers milling around within ear-shot in the rectory. There was no reply. "Shit!" grumbled the officer. Why did the one soldier who was supposed to translate have to break his fuckin' ankle in the jump? He reached for the priest's cassock, which was draped over the back of the desk-chair, and tossed it to the man. Then he called to a soldier just outside the door. "Private Kohler; take this guy to the church and detain him with the rest of the villagers… On second thought, isolate him from the others, and tie him up good. Better gag him too. In some of these villages, the priest is the civic leader. I don't want the villagers to have anyone leading them until the occupation troops arrive tomorrow and take over from us."

The military operation, part of a much larger blitzkrieg, had been almost flawless so far. The night-time parachute drop; cutting the phone lines from the village; killing the six French soldiers guarding the bridge… well-aimed head- and chest-shots from silencer-equipped guns before the soldiers even knew they were under attack; the rest of the French Army squadron captured while they slept.

As the priest was being led away, the boy didn't move from the bed, or utter a word.

"So, Lieutenant…" said the sergeant. "Do you think Müller and I could have a little interrogation session with the priest's fuck-boy?" Dietrich looked over at Corporal Müller and grinned.

The lieutenant's eyes scanned the boy's body in much the same way that the priest's had. He smiled at Gerard, and winked, but it didn't seem to ease the look of fear on the boy's face. "Interrogate him, huh? That's rich!" said the officer. "You mean like you guys 'interrogated' that cocky little boy-whore who latched onto your squad last month after we took Copenhagen?"

"With all due respect, sir," said the sergeant with a tone of friendly sarcasm; "I recall that you spent some time interrogating our lad Henrik too."

The lieutenant blushed a bit but shared a laugh with the two non-coms. "OK; we'll leave the boy here for now," Wolf said. "And I might even come back, after I've finished checking things out around the village, and have a little fun with him myself. So don't wear him out."

The corporal and sergeant saluted as the lieutenant left the room and closed the door behind him. They thumbed-on the safeties of their weapons and hung them by their straps on the back of the door. As they were removing their camouflage jackets, Müller spoke to Dietrich. "He's even sexier-looking than Henrik was, don't you think?" said the younger man.

The grizzled 40-year-old sergeant considered the question for a moment, as he stared at the naked boy on the bed. "This one is definitely pretty, and a bit younger that our little Danish hustler… dark hair and brown eyes to Henrik's blond and blue… but I call is a tie."

"Shall we double-team him?" asked Müller. "One of us fucking his ass while the other gets a suck?"

"Let's take it slow. We shouldn't rape the kid," said Dietrich. "He'll be more fun in bed if he does it voluntarily. How about you go out of the room for a few minutes? Let me warm him up first," said Dietrich, as he sat down on the bed next to the boy. "When you heard the bed squeaking," he said with a grin; "you can come in and share him. OK?"

"Yeah; sure, Sarge. You're the old pro at this stuff." Müller winked at Dietrich as he grabbed his weapon and wandered into the parlor, leaving the door slightly ajar. The sergeant smiled warmly at the fearful boy seated next to him. Instead of immediately fondling Gerard's appealing body, the man reached into his satchel and pulled out a chocolate bar. He unwrapped one end and broke off a square, popping it into his own mouth. "Mmmm! Good!" he said in an exaggerated tone, while smiling and maintaining eye contact. Then he handed it to Gerard. "Here, my little puppy," he said kindly. "Chocolate… Is good!"

The boy hesitantly took the candy bar, broke off another square, and slowly brought it to his mouth. As it melted on his tongue, and he savored the taste, he smiled for the first time since the soldiers had barged into the room. Ironically, Gerard's previously-stiff penis now softened as his tension eased, no longer concerned that the men would harm him.

"So, liebchen; what do they call you?" asked the sergeant. The boy looked at the sergeant with a quizzical and uncomprehending expression. He ate another square of chocolate.

"Let's try again," said Dietrich. He pointed to himself with his thumb. "I am called Fritz. Name… Fritz." Then he pointed to the boy. "Your name?"

"Mon nom? Gerard. Je m'appelle Gerard, monsieur."

"Gerard, eh? That's a very… what's the damned French word?… oh, yeah; beau… that's a beau name," said Dietrich as his hand touched the boy for the first time, gliding smoothly across his shoulder and then down his back. "And you're a very… a tres beau boy too!" He leaned over and gave the boy a chaste kiss on the cheek.

Gerard smiled again, and shifted his body toward Dietrich's so that their legs and hips touched. The sergeant hugged the boy's shoulder, while his other hand gently caressed Gerard's knee and moved slowly up Gerard's thigh. "Mmmm… so nice and sexy," Dietrich murmured in the boy's ear. Gerard may not have understood the German words, but as they looked into each other's eyes he understood the situation in an instant. The soldier, who had been so intimidating just minutes ago, was no different from Father Bertrand. Just like the priest, he wants me for sex, thought the boy. And he'll protect me if I please him. Gerard spread his legs slightly, inviting the man's hand to fondle his penis and balls. He also made his expression look sensuous and sexually hungry… the way Bertrand loved so much.

"Yes, lad! This is gonna be good!" said Dietrich, as his fingers toyed with Gerard's soft ball-sack. They both sighed with satisfaction when the sergeant's fingers moved to the boy's penis, drawing back the foreskin to reveal the cock-head. Sliding the skin back and forth over the glans a few times, the man felt the penis stiffening in his fingers. He leaned down to kiss the boy's lips, and Gerard returned the kiss, offering his sexy tongue as well.

"Stand up, boy," said Dietrich, after a long sensuous kiss, lifting Gerard to his feet and standing him between the man's legs. The soldier, still seated on the low narrow bed, ran his hands over the boy's smooth young body, then drew him into a tender hug. As Gerard wrapped his arms around Dietrich's neck, the sergeant licked at the lad's tiny brown nipples and inhaled the intoxicating boy-scent, all the while lavishing attention on Gerard's sturdy boner and soft slender butt.

The hand that was caressing the boy's ass cheeks slowly insinuated itself into the cleft, the index finger sliding across the anal pucker. Gerard lifted his buttocks up and back, inviting more intimate exploration. The man accepted the offer and probed the passage, still slick with vaseline, sliding effortlessly into the recently-fucked hole.

"Time to fuck, my little liebchen," said the sergeant, pulling the boy down on the bed and turning him face-down. The man unbuttoned his pants and pulled them, along with his under-shorts, midway down his thighs. (He didn't remove them completely, or his boots at all, so that he could be ready in seconds in the event that French troops tried to re-take the village.) "You like a good fuck, don't you boy?" said the sergeant, stroking his cock a few times to bring it fully erect. He then slowly twisted two fingers into Gerard's lubed anus.

The boy lifted up his butt and purred like a kitten, looking back over his shoulder with unfeigned desire. "Encules-moi, monsieur" [fuck my asshole, sir], said the boy in his sexiest voice, well-practiced from the many times he'd serviced the priest's carnal needs. "Je veux ta bite!" [I'm ready for your cock!].

"I don't know what the fuck that all means," said the sergeant, as he knelt behind Gerard and positioned his cock-head at the entrance of the boy's anus. "But I sure like the way you say it!" He slowly pushed forward, sliding in, as Gerard flexed open his anal muscle and pushed his ass back. "Oh, Jesus! That's so good!" moaned Dietrich, as his cock slid in deeper with each thrust. In little more than a minute, the gentle probings of his cock transformed into long rhythmic fuck-thrusts. Muffled grunts and moans filled the room.

Just as Dietrich's thoughts and senses drifted away from reality and into the haze of sexual pleasure…

"Alright! That sure didn't take you long, Sarge!"

Corporal Müller had come back into the room, accompanied by two other soldiers from the squad. "Think the boy can do four of us at once the way Henrik did?" All three of the men had unbuttoned their camouflage pants and were beginning to stroke their cocks.

Dietrich was annoyed at having his reverie disturbed, but he shrugged with acceptance of the inevitability of sharing the boy. "Sure. Let's see how he does."

Gerard was startled for a moment, but gave a mental shrug. His usual self-confidence and adventurous spirit were flowing back into him. And if it involved sexual pleasure, he'd be ready to try it.

The sergeant wrapped his arms around Gerard's chest and lifted him up, still impaled on the man's hard cock. Dietrich shifted into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. His arms released the boy, and he leaned back, propped up on his elbows. Gerard adapted to the new position at once, having been well-trained by the priest. With his knees on the bed, the boy flexed his thighs and began riding the sergeant's cock, not unlike how he had been riding Father Bertrand's only 20 minutes before. Müller stepped up close to the bed, slowly stroking his stiff cock. "Suck me, boy… suck my cock!"

Gerard smiled. "Faire la pipe [a blow-job], eh?" he said slyly. The boy leaned forward, even as he continued to ride the sergeant's erection, resting one hand on the corporal's hip while the other fisted the man's stiff cock. Gerard licked his lips, took a deep breath, and lowered his mouth onto Müller's straining boner. His lips enveloped the cock-head, as his tongue slithered all around it, tasting the pre-cum seeping from the slit. Then he began sliding his lips up and down on the shaft, taking in more of the man's cock with each plunge, moving his head with the same rhythm with which he was riding Dietrich's boner.

"Yeah, boy! That's it!" grunted the young corporal. "Take it deep! Take it all!" The soldier's hands pulled the boy's head down onto him as his hips thrust forward.

Gerard gagged at the sudden intrusion into his throat and he tried to back his mouth off, but the corporal held him firmly. The boy had learned early-on how to take Father Bertrand's substantial cock into his throat. The corporal's wasn't as big, so he knew he could do it. Fighting against his urge to gag, he relaxed his throat and let the thrusting cock thrust into it… all the way to the hilt, fucking in and out. The boy felt a sense of pride at being able to pleasure both soldiers at once, and his body relaxed again.

That's when the two other soldiers stepped forward, their pants open, slowly masturbating their own erections. They stood on either side of Corporal Müller, hip-to-hip. Each of them took one of the boy's hands from the corporal's hips and brought it to their own cocks.

Gerard was awkward at first, almost overwhelmed by the new arrangement. But the men's voices were friendly and encouraging (even if the boy didn't understand the words they spoke), so he was determined to do what they wanted.

"Four at once… just like Henrik did so well!" said one of the privates happily, as Gerard's hand stroked up and down on the man's erection.

As grunts of lust filled the room, the men pre-occupied with the boy's sexual gymnastics, nobody noticed Lieutenant Wolf enter the room. He set aside his weapon, stripped off his shirt and undershirt, and opened his pants. As he stroked himself hard, watching the pornographic display being played out before him, he finally spoke up.

"Hurry it up, men," he said as he sat down on the room's one chair. "Shoot your loads and then get back out to your duties." He squeezed his rock-hard penis, and a tremor of pleasure ran through his body. "I intend to have the boy to myself for a while, and I'm ready to get started."

Story 4
Indian Wars

"They're gonna make us do it again, ain't they, Joshua?" whispered the 11-year-old, with distress in his voice and in his eyes. "All of them Injuns is gonna do it to us, just like last night! It makes me sick at my stomach whenever I think about them putting their pissers in my mouth and making me suck them. And Lordy, Josh… when they humped their pissers into my bottom hole, it hurt so bad that…."

"Quiet, Daniel," said Joshua. "Hush now." The 13-year-old was whispering too. Their captors didn't allow talking, but the eight warriors of the Dakota Sioux raiding party were busy preparing the horses and the camp for the night. "We'll get out of this somehow… escape and find folks who'll take us in. Meantime, we just gotta do what the Injuns want, until the time's right to make a run for it. When one of them puts his pisser in your mouth or your bottom-hole, close your eyes and try to imagine that it's you and me doing it together in our bed. Maybe it won't feel near as bad."

"But it ain't nothing like the fun we have in bed, Josh. You're always so gentle when you do it, and your pisser ain't near as big as the Injuns'."

Joshua thought for a moment whether he should suggest that his little brother imagine that it was their Pa having sex with him. That's what had gotten Joshua through the sexual assaults of the past two nights. But he kept the thought to himself.

Then, as if reading his brother's mind, the younger boy said "I miss Pa so bad!"

"I…." Joshua's voice caught for a moment, and he felt like he was about to start crying again as he thought about his father, murdered by the Indian raiders. "I miss Pa too. But remember what he told us back when Ma died," the older boy continued. "We gotta keep on living our own lives, and we gotta look out for each other."

The two brothers were kneeling side-by-side on the ground, their hands tied behind their backs with thin strips of leather, and then tied to their ankles. They were barefoot, and their only clothing was the cotton nightshirts they'd been wearing three days before, when the Indians raided their isolated homestead before dawn. As the boys were being dragged out, they saw their father lying dead on the floor, his skull crushed by a tomahawk. The cabin was looted and burned, and their father's horse had been added to the Indians' string of pack animals.

"That lady… she went crazy from it… from the Injuns humping their pissers into her… didn't she?" whispered Daniel.

A young farm-wife had been captured before the boys had, at a homestead some miles from where the boys had lived. Joshua and Daniel had listened, and briefly seen, as she had been gang-fucked by the Sioux warriors the first night of their captivity. She had screamed at first; screams that had terrified the boys. But after a while she had gone silent. And in the morning her dead body was discovered near where she'd been raped… lying in a puddle of dark blood, her arms still bound behind her back but her wrists crudely gouged by the sharp stick that remained clenched in her hand.

"I reckon she did, Daniel. But WE ain't gonna go crazy. We're gonna keep our wits about us and live."

"But Josh…."

"Hush!" the older boy hissed. "Yonder comes Hatchet Face."

The Indian to whom they'd give the nickname did indeed have a narrow face and sharp nose, but his Sioux name was Otaktay (meaning "kills many enemies"). The 30-year-old Indian wasn't the biggest or strongest of the war-party, but he was the one who took the greatest interest in using the boys for his sexual pleasure. Even as the others had been laughing and whooping as they held the white woman down and took turns on her, Otaktay had been with Joshua and Daniel, stripping them nude, fondling their bodies, and then violating their mouths and assholes… fucking each of them in turn, while their hands were tied to a tree.

During the daytime, traveling on horseback, Daniel had ridden with Otaktay, sitting in front of him on the horse. The Indian had petted the boy intimately as they traversed miles of prairie, following the river up-stream, back into the heart of Sioux territory. Joshua had been passed around to ride with a number of the other warriors, sitting behind them on the horses, sometimes having his hand pulled to the rider's crotch to stroke his cock.

Otaktay wore moccasins, a loin-cloth, and buckskin leggings. His hairless chest was bare, and the war paint applied several days previously had just about worn off. He looked down on the two kneeling boys, savoring the look of fearful submission on Daniel's face and the hostility on Joshua's. Both attitudes pleased him, as he contemplated which boy he should enjoy first. The Indian didn't consider himself cruel for taking the captives sexually. After all; he had saved their lives, and they owed him. Many in the Sioux Nation considered the encroachment of settlers to be a war to the death… seeing the white foreigners as bringers of disease and thieves of land, who should be exterminated before they had a chance to carry out their evil plans. The two boys would surely have been killed if Otaktay had not convinced the group's leader that they be spared. While Otaktay felt an immediate physical attraction to the older boy, and relished the prospect of using him sexually, his primary motivation was to bring the younger one back to his teepee… first as a slave but eventually, when he had assimilated to Sioux ways, as an adopted son. He couldn't have sons of his own, because his wife was a berdache – a 'two-spirit' – an effeminate young man who had been raised as a girl and lived as a woman. [Author's note: Do a Google search if you're interested.]

Otaktay untied the rawhide from Daniel's ankles and lifted the young boy to his feet, leaving his hands still tied behind his back. Daniel's thin cotton nightshirt came down to mid-thigh like a dress, dirty from the three days of hard travel. The Indian's face was impassive as he reached down and pulled the nightshirt up over the boy's head, and bunched it back onto his bound wrists.

The warrior grunted softly – a sign of approval – as his eyes surveyed Daniel's nudity, and his hands began caressing the 11-year-old's small, slender young body. Although his breathing quickened as he fondled the boy's immature penis and small rounded ball-sack, his expression never changed from its inscrutable calm. He bent down and buried his nose into Daniel's scraggly dark-blond hair, inhaling the boy's scent as his hands gently caressed Daniel's soft buttocks and his stiff little boner. He grunted his approval again. And then he turned to Joshua.

Untying Joshua's ankles, Otaktay was a bit rougher in hauling the older boy to his feet. He took a handful of the boy's shoulder-length hair and pulled it back to expose Joshua's throat. The 13-year-old's defiant expression turned to fear. But instead of hurting Joshua, the warrior leaned close, stuck out his tongue, and licked along the side of the boy's neck, tasting his dried sweat and smelling his scent. Otaktay's tongue continued up to the boy's ear. He whispered in the Dakota Sioux language: "You excite me, white-boy." He took the small earlobe between his lips… tonguing it at first, and then pressing down with his teeth, just short of the boy's pain threshold. Joshua moaned softly as the Indian's beardless face brushed against the boy's equally smooth cheek. Then his body shivered as Otaktay's tongue flicked inside the lad's ear.

Otaktay's hand let go of the boy's hair and slid down his back to cup his butt cheek. The other pressed against Joshua's crotch through the thin cotton material, finding the barely-adolescent penis to be standing up stiff.

"You are excited too, eh?" he whispered.

Joshua couldn't understand the words. But the deep sensuous voice, the hot breath in his ear, and the hand squeezing his stiff cock made him gasp involuntarily.

Stepping back slightly, Otaktay reached up to grab the neck of Joshua's nightshirt. Pulling the material apart with both hands, he slowly ripped the garment down the front, exposing the boy's chest, his belly, then his erection, and finally his smooth slender legs. The cloth fell back along Joshua's arms behind him, leaving him naked. Joshua's chest and back were tanned a rich butternut from the summer sun, but below the waist he was pale white. His body was totally hairless, which pleased Otaktay greatly. The Indian's fingertips lightly caressed the boy's exquisite young cock, its tip peeking out from the collar of foreskin. Then he skinned it back to admire the well-shaped crown, and began masturbating the sensitive sex-flesh up and down as Joshua's body trembled with sexual stimulation.

Joshua glanced over at Daniel, and he saw that his little brother was staring slack-jawed at the display. The older boy blushed with shame at being so aroused from the touch of this savage… this murderer. He tried to fight it, clenching his fists, attempting to will his penis to go soft, but it was futile. Raw sexual pleasure was surging through his body as the Indian jacked Joshua's straining cock. The boy closed his eyes. As he had the past two nights, his mind tried to blot out what the Indian was doing by thinking instead about his father. He thought about all the times Pa had quietly awakened him, as he slept with his younger brother on the rough mattress stuffed with corn-husks, and led him to the feather-bed in which the man had slept alone since his wife's death.

Joshua's mind filled with memories of Pa's soft loving words as he gently pulled the nightshirt over the boy's head and then pulled off his own… of laying in bed together and kissing, their warm naked bodies rubbing together urgently… of moving down to take Pa's cock into his mouth, and then all the way into his throat, just the way the man had taught him… and finally accepting the long, slow thrusts of Pa's thick cock inside his ass. The father had always felt guilty afterwards about having allowed his lust to control him. He never talked about their incestuous lovemaking, often leaving the boy unmolested for weeks at a time… until the urge became too strong, and he took Joshua to his bed once again.

As Otaktay unhooked his belt, his loin-cloth and leggings dropped to the ground, leaving him naked but for his deerskin moccasins. His penis was already standing up fully erect from its nest of straight black pubes – the Indian's only real body hair. Otaktay's hands pressed down on Joshua's shoulders, forcing him to his knees, where the boy's mouth was at the same level as the man's stiff penis. The boy knew what was coming. For reasons he couldn't understand, he desired it intensely. His body trembled as he opened his mouth, licking his tongue across his lips and forming them into an "O" shape.

A glimmer of a smile flashed briefly across the Sioux warrior's impassive face. He took his rigid cock in his hand and tilted it toward the boy's mouth. Joshua leaned forward and took the cock-head hungrily between his lips, slathering his tongue around it, and began to move his lips down the shaft. But after only a few moments, Otaktay suddenly pulled it out. Still holding his erection, the Indian slapped it several times across Joshua's face, as he kept his mouth open, ready to begin sucking again. The boy's face burned with humiliation and desire.

"You like it; eh, white-boy?" murmured the Indian. "You can't pretend anymore that you don't want to suck my cock."

Otaktay plunged his cock back into Joshua's mouth, fast and deep. The boy gagged audibly, but he didn't try to pull back. The Indian entwined his fingers through Joshua's shoulder-length hair, pulling the boy's face toward him and thrusting even deeper, until Joshua's lips were pressing into the hairy base of the cock. Otaktay kept pushing his hips forward as he held Joshua's head firmly, relishing the sensation of his stiff cock embedded deep inside the boy's warm wet throat. When the Indian's hips finally pulled back, the 13-year-old gasped for breath, but then began tonguing the cock and then moving his lips down the shaft, obediently fellating Otaktay's straining cock again.

"Yes… that's it, white-boy. Suck it!" grunted Otaktay. As Joshua continued giving an expert blow-job, the Indian considered that perhaps he should take this one into his teepee instead of the younger boy. He thought of how pleased his wife, Makawee, would be to have a foreigner boy-slave who would suck her cock so well. (He had never sucked her small shapely cock himself. A Sioux warrior, even one with a berdache wife, would consider it shameful to take a cock in his own mouth or ass.) Otaktay shivered with pleasure as he imagined watching Makawee and the boy lying naked on a bearskin, facing in opposite directions, sucking each other at the same time. These thoughts, together with the efforts of Joshua's lips and tongue, stimulated him so greatly that he felt his pleasure-spirits rising up, determined to take control of his will.

"Enough!" he said suddenly, yanking Joshua by the hair to pull his mouth off the throbbing cock. "I intend to spurt my seed into your ass, white-boy… not in your mouth."

Joshua remained on his knees, understanding nothing that the Indian said.

Otaktay brought his leg up and placed his foot on Joshua's chest. With a soft push, the boy fell over onto his back, his legs flailing. Even though the impact was cushioned by the grass-covered ground, Joshua gasped as the weight of his body landed on his bound arms. The boy's hips were raised up, supported by his clenched fists beneath them. Otaktay knelt between Joshua's legs and raised them back to the boy's chest, exposing his puckered hole.

"Your boy-cunt is almost as pretty as my wife's," the Indian muttered, as he positioned his spit-slick cock and thrust his hips forward.

Joshua cringed as the ring of anal muscle was forcefully penetrated, but he remained silent, his eyes closed, and his mind striving to return to his father's bed. Even as Otaktay's rigid cock pushed aggressively into Joshua's bowel, the boy didn't cry out.

"You take it well, with no complaining," Otaktay grunted as he pulled back his cock and thrust again. "I think that you will learn quickly to become one of The People."

As the Indian eased into a smooth rhythm of fuck-strokes, another warrior approached, having finished his duties in preparing the campsite.

"Otaktay, you sly fox!" It was Matoskah, the leader of the war-party, who quickly dropped his loincloth and leggings, revealing a cock that was half-hard and pulsing harder. "I see that you are getting the first pleasures from our slave-boys once again."

Otaktay looked up casually as he continued his fucking. "And I see, Matoskah, that the spirits are urging you to have pleasure with them as well. Will you be taking the young one there, or follow me on this one?"

"I had the older one last night. I am eager to fuck the little one this time. I have been thinking all afternoon about having my cock in this tight young ass," he said as his hand caressed Daniel's smooth butt. "It was wise of you, Otaktay, to suggest that we spare their lives and bring them along with us."

Otaktay grunted in acknowledgement of the praise. Then, as he continued thrusting his hips, he said to the leader, "Lay him here beside this one and we will fuck them together, with our bodies moving in unison… just like that time we fucked those two Lakota maidens during the gathering of the tribes, back when we were not much older than this one and just discovering our pleasure spirits."

Matoskah nodded. He reached his arm around Daniel's slender waist and picked him up like a sack of grain, laying him on his back, right beside his older brother. The Indian pushed Daniel's legs back, grunting his approval at the sight of the boy's delicate pink asshole.

Matoskah spit on his fingers and rubbed them across the 11-year-old's tightly-clenched anus. The Indian thought to himself how gratifying it was to force the hated whites to satisfy his lust. Each time he took a white woman, and now a boy, it was a bit of pay-back for what The People had suffered at the hands of the wicked foreigners… revenge for the warriors slain, for the land stolen, for the women and children sickened with the white-man's diseases.

But before he thrust his hard cock into the boy, the six other warriors approached, ready to share in the enjoyment.

"I'm hungry for pleasure with the slaves too!" said the youngest of them, a 19-year-old brave, as he unhooked his belt. "Turn them on their bellies and untie their hands, so they can serve two more of us with their mouths while you're fucking them." His loincloth dropped to the ground, uncovering his fully-erect penis, and he stroked it slowly as he looked down at the helpless boys.

Otaktay looked over at Matoskah, and they both nodded.

"So be it," said Matoskah, as he turned Daniel over and positioned him on his knees with his face to the ground. As he untied the leather thong binding the boy's wrists, he said "Decide among yourselves who takes his mouth first. I'm taking his ass now!"

He spit again onto his fingers and rubbed the saliva onto the head of his erection, then positioned it and thrust roughly into the tight anal ring, producing a howl of protest from the boy.

"Hurry up and fill his mouth, so I don't have to listen to this whining," said Matoskah, as he began fucking hard and fast.

The 19-year-old brave vocalized a high-pitch yelp of excitement as he sat himself on the ground and positioned his crotch in front of Daniel's face. He took a handful of Daniel's hair and brought the boy's mouth down on the firm teenage erection.

"Suck it, slave!" demanded the young warrior.

Story 5
The Blue-Helmets Come to Monrovia

"Joseph; it is almost time for us to go," said Mama, "and we'll have a long walk into the city. Put on the clothing and practice one more time."

"Yes, Mama," said the boy, without any enthusiasm. He wouldn't dream of talking back to his mother or disobeying, but the clothing she had gotten for him would be embarrassing to wear in public, being stared at by strangers. And the way she had instructed him to make his penis stiff and display it to the foreign soldiers, right there on the street, would be even more humiliating.

"I know it is troubling for you," said the 30-year-old woman. "I would be doing this work myself if not for the baby." She placed her hand protectively on her belly, which protruded in late-term pregnancy. "But the family depends on you, Joseph. You know Mrs. Clayton, the clothing vendor at the marketplace? She took her boy Samuel down there yesterday, and they brought home thirty American dollars, for just a few hours of work! Just think how well we will be able to eat with that much money. And I hear that the school might be opening again, and we will be able to buy books and school clothes."

The place was Liberia, on the west coast of Africa. It had once been a prosperous and peaceful little country. For the last 20 years, however, there been political turmoil. And for the last four years, it had been a place of hellish chaos. Control of the capital city of Monrovia, with a population of a half-million, had shifted back and forth between competing militias that were more like gangs of thugs than armies.

Joseph's family were descendants of the freed American slaves who had been re-settled in Africa starting in the early 1800s and had formed the independent country of Liberia in the 1840s. They spoke Standard English, and took pride in their long-ago American roots. Joseph was the oldest child… the 'man of the house' in the two years since his father had been drafted into the army of whichever warlord had controlled the capital at the time. He had not been heard from since. Joseph's mother became over-protective of her son after that, knowing that even young boys were being taken to be militia fighters. Indeed, when a gang of heavily armed militiamen had come through the neighborhood, 8 months ago, some of the soldiers looked to be no older than 12. One of these young boys had been among the squad that barged into Joseph's house, and had joined with the older youths and young men in using Mama for their pleasure. She had bravely told them that she would submit to their lust, so long as they left her children alone. As they were leaving, the leader of the squad had briefly considered taking Joseph anyway, but decided that he looked too puny to handle an AK-47.

"Now put on the clothing, young man!" said Mama, becoming impatient with her son's dawdling.

The boy stripped off the baggy cut-off trousers he'd been wearing and stood naked before his mother. He looked younger than his 11 years… short of stature, slight of build, with close-cropped hair. His skin was the color of milk-chocolate… the genes of some long-ago slave master or overseer lightening his West African skin-tone slightly. Until yesterday, he had been utterly un-self-conscious about displaying his immature penis and the small rounded sack beneath it. But ever since Mama began to prepare him for the work, he had experienced the first awareness of his body's latent sexuality.

He put on the tight little underpants… white cotton girl's panties, with a fading flower pattern… remarkably soft after numerous washings by their original owners. The sleeveless undershirt had a garish sparkly cartoon picture of a pink horse with a long tail and mane of blond hair, and the words "My Little Pony". It was so small that it left a gap at Joseph's taut belly. The clothing had been bought at a clothing stall in the marketplace… the end-point of a chain of commerce that began in a middle-class American neighborhood, with a bag of unwanted clothes set out on the front porch for donation to charity.

Joseph's skin contrasted dramatically with the skimpy white clothing, and emphasized each curve of his young body. As he looked down at himself, the boy scrunched his face in embarrassed distaste at the sissy clothing.

His mother leaned down to kiss his cheek gently. "You need to look special to get the Blue-Helmets to pay the best money for your work," Mama said. "Now, show me again what you do when a soldier walks by and looks like he might be interested in you."

Joseph reached into the underwear and adjusted his soft boyish penis so that it pointed upward, making a ridge in the front of the panties. He transformed his face into a bright smile, raised the shirt up to expose his chest, and then slid his hands slowly down to his crotch and inside the elastic waistband of the panties. Rubbing his penis, he felt it begin to twitch.

"That's right; pull the pants down farther," said Mama. "Show your boy-part and make it all the way stiff." Before this day, Joseph had never really paid attention to his penis becoming erect, but now it seemed to take on a talismanic quality. Mama had heard that this was something the soldiers wanted to see, picking a boy sooner and paying more money if he showed his erection while displaying himself on some street corner in the center-city.

"That's a good boy, Joseph," said Mama. "Now show your bottom… just like I taught you."

Joseph turned around and leaned forward. His hands rubbed in circles around his slender butt-cheeks, then pulled them apart to display his anus.

"Now get into the position, and I'll stretch you one more time." She reached for the phallus-shaped cucumber and rubbed cooking oil onto it.

Joseph made a face and vocalized a soft mournful whine. His anus still felt a burning discomfort from the previous round of stretching.

"No complaining, boy! When you are with a soldier, you must make him believe that you enjoy it."

More than an hour later…

The hot tropical sun was low in the sky as Joseph and his mother finished the trek from their out-lying neighborhood to what had once been the waterfront tourist district. There were still hotels, restaurants, and stores there, but many were now burnt-out shells, others damaged but still operating, while still others had escaped with just some pock-marks left by stray bullets from the street fighting.

As they had walked through the city, it was reassuring to see the foreign peace-keepers patrolling in their crisp uniforms and light-blue helmets. They looked so different from the rag-tag militias that had been fighting in these streets only weeks before. The UN soldiers were an amazingly diverse mix of ethnicities, with contingents from Ireland, Bangladesh, Philippines, South Africa, Jordan, Netherlands, and Nigeria.

Just before they got to the location that Mama's friend had described, Joseph and his mother stopped at a public water spigot. Joseph removed his sandals and stripped off his baggy trousers. Mama took a cloth and some soap from her shoulder bag and washed the dust and sweat from the boy's body, paying particular attention to his genitals and anus… much to Joseph's humiliation. She then pulled out the panties and garish undershirt from the satchel.

"Mama… are you sure I have to…"

"Yes, baby. You must," she said gently. "But when we are through tonight, you can get dressed in your regular clothes again. And you can fill your belly with grilled chicken from a food stand… and drink coca cola… and maybe we can even find a shop that sells ice cream."

The thought of such a feast overcame Joseph's shame, and he dressed in the boy-whore clothing.

"You can put your trousers on over-top until we get to the place," Mama said, bringing a grateful smile from the boy.

A few more blocks along, they came to a lively area of sidewalk vendors, restaurants, bars… and street-whores. Although there were a few soldiers wearing their distinctive U.N. helmets and carrying rifles, most of the foreigners were off-duty, strolling around unarmed and wearing blue berets with their camouflage uniforms.

At the busiest intersection, there were over two dozen women trying their best to attract the attentions of the passing soldiers. Some were poorly-dressed and seemed undernourished. Others were quite attractive, with make-up and straightened hair, dressed in sexy clothing that had been fashionable at American or European discos in the 1980s. Though a few were quite young, none were pre-teens. And there wasn't a single boy in sight.

Mama walked up to a prostitute who had a kind look. "Excuse me, but I was told there was a place around here where…" She paused, not quite able to frame the words. "Where there are boys who…" She paused again.

The woman looked at Joseph with an expression that seemed simultaneously to combine scorn, sympathy, and amusement. She pointed down the block, away from the center of activity, where a narrow side-street intersected the main road. "Girls down that alley that goes off to the right; boys to the left," she said.

When Joseph and his mother got there, they found ten boys lined up along one side of the trash-strewn alley, competing for the attention of a single Bangladeshi soldier. Nearly every boy was accompanied by an adult woman, pimping her son, nephew or younger brother. Only two boys, somewhat older than the rest, were unaccompanied. Looking across the street, Joseph saw a similar group of young girls, being surveyed by a larger group of soldiers.

When he looked around at the line of boys, Joseph felt more comfortable about removing his trousers and posing in the ridiculous underwear. The boys ranged in age from 9 to 13. Although a couple were dressed in ordinary clothing, the rest were in skimpy provocative attire, such as ultra-short pants, tiny speedo bathing suits, white Y-front briefs, or tight panties like his own. All of the clothing had been second-hand cast-offs, shipped in from wealthy countries.

The Bangladeshi soldier, speaking in rudimentary English, was negotiating a price with the aunt of the youngest boy in the group. As Mama eavesdropped on their bargaining, they settled on a payment of 10 US dollars for an hour with the boy. The woman pointed to a seedy-looking building on the main street. A hand-painted sign read: "Pleasure Hotel. Rooms by the hour. Special price for U.N. soldiers." The soldier took the boy by the hand, and they walked to the hotel.

The woman was smiling as she tucked the money away in her clothing, and she seemed happy to answer Mama's questions about the various details of the sexual commerce in boys.

At the same time, Joseph was surveying the other boys, hoping to find a friendly face. A sturdy, broad-shouldered 13-year-old, standing near the beginning of the line, gave him a smile and a wink. He was one of the two who weren't accompanied by a woman.

"I not see you here before, sport. Welcome to Boys Alley," said the older lad, speaking English with a tribal accent. "You need get to end of line over there… but not worry; you get chose right quick. That's sexy outfit you got!" His own attire consisted of very-short athletic pants with the hem right up at his crotch, and a tight tee-shirt with the New York Yankees logo. He wore no underpants, and his scrotum peeked out at one leg.

"I like your outfit a lot better!" replied Joseph honestly.

"Yeah? Watch and see who gets customer first, you or me. So… you been fucked by men before?"

"No," said Joseph. And then in a low voice he added "but Mama stretched my bottom-hole using a cucumber with cooking oil on it."

"Mama is smart. I wish I learn that way. I get drafted when General Dolo's army come to my village, back during rainy season. At first, while I am learning how to be soldier, I get passed around at night for others in my squad to fuck my ass and my mouth. I hate it at first, but I get used to it quick. And it's not long before we draft another boy, and he become one that gets used by others for sex. I desert a few weeks ago, when my unit is retreating after battle in city. I find out right quick that I can live OK by doing fuck-work." The boy smiled and winked. "My name is Tamba. What's yours?"

"I'm Joseph. So did you ever kill anyone?"

"Sure; we all kill. But I don't want talk about killing. Is much better do sex than do fighting. Before Blue-Helmets get here, I let men fuck me for some food and maybe place to sleep. But now I get real money! Hey; here come two Blue-Helmets now. Go on to end of line. Good luck!"

As Joseph moved deeper into the alley, two South African soldiers in camouflage uniforms approached, perusing the boys closest to the street corner. Both men were whites, Afrikaner descendents of Dutch settlers, centuries before. One was in his early 30s and powerfully built, the other only 19 and slender. The younger soldier had a small rucksack slung over his shoulder.

Mama hurried to Joseph's side and whispered in his ear. "Make one of them pick you, just like you practiced."

As the soldiers examined the selection, the women jabbered at them and the boys posed. Tamba took on a look of cheerful self-confidence when they came to him, tilting one hip toward them provocatively, with one hand rubbing his butt while the fingers of his other hand caressing his crotch.

"Hello, handsome soldiers," said the boy with a smile. "You choose me, and we have sexy good time. I please you good with my mouth, and you fuck me in nice tight ass." Tamba's tongue made a slow, erotic circuit around his parted lips, then he turned his body and pulled down the back of his shorts to show off his surprisingly round and high-set buttocks.

The younger soldier reached out and ran his hand over the boy's smooth black butt, nodding with approval. "Show me your cock, boy."

Tamba faced the man and pulled his shorts to mid-thigh to display his penis. It was long, but slim and hairless. His barely-pubescent balls hung down nicely. Tamba was circumcised, in the tradition of his tribe, and the glans flared attractively. A few strokes of his fingers started the penis on an upward arc to a gracefully slender erection of just over 5 inches [13 cm].

"What do you think of this one, Piet?" said the soldier, speaking to his comrade in Afrikaans (a dialect of Dutch).

"Looks like just your type I'd say, Nik." The older man winked at his friend. Piet was familiar with Nik's sexual preferences; the two had been fuck-buddies and confidants ever since Nik had joined the platoon the year before, not long after he finished high school.

"How much is your cost, boy?" said Nik to Tamba, switching to English, and they started haggling over the price.

"I'm going to check out the others," said Piet. He walked along examining the boys, fondling those who bared their penises for him, and fending off the aggressive sales pitches from the women.

Then he came to Joseph at the end of the line. The boy's fingers slid under the bottom seam of the tee-shirt and raised it up, displaying his skinny torso as his fingertips made circles around his tiny nipples. Then his hands moved down and lowered the front of his underpants, hooking the waistband behind his ball-sack to display his penis and compact round scrotum. Without being prompted, he took his immature penis between two fingers and his thumb and moved the foreskin back and forth over the small crown, feeling the shaft becoming erect in response to the stimulation. In a few moments, the attractive pre-pubescent boner stood straight up, a little over 3 inches [8 cm] in length.

Piet pushed the boy's hand away and felt the boyish erection with his own fingers. "How much for an hour with him?" he asked Mama.

"Thirty American dollars," she said, starting out with an outlandish price. When the soldier huffed scornfully and began to turn away, Mama hastened to add: "He is a virgin… never taken by a man before. You will pay more because of this," said Mama, hoping it was true what the other woman had told her. "He is freshly washed too, with soap, just minutes ago."

The soldier had been attracted to Joseph from the instant he noticed the boy, but he was a good enough bargainer not to let his interest show.

"Virgin boys are nothing special," said Piet dismissively, even though his pulse quickened at the thought of being the first to fuck this submissive young boy. "You are thinking of girl virgins. I'll pay $5 U.S. for an hour with him." If the woman was going to start too high, he figured he would start too low.

"He is so pretty, don't you think?" said Mama. "He is very obedient and will give much pleasure. It is surely worth 30 U.S. to be the first man who takes him to bed… but you look kind and will treat him well, so I will take $25."

After some quick back-and-forth dickering, they settled on $15.

"Go with the man to the hotel, Joseph. I'll be waiting when you come out." Mama gave him a kiss on his cheek. "Be brave," she whispered softly in his ear, "and remember what I taught you."

Joseph forced a smile, but it was all he could do to keep from crying. For the past year, the threat of being taken away by soldiers had been a very real danger. And now, even with Mama's assurances, it produced a visceral fear.

As the two men and two boys headed across the street to the small hotel, the soldiers chatted light-heartedly in their Afrikaans language.

"Life is good, man!" said Nik. "Back home, I could get into big trouble for playing around with the little boys, but on these peace-keeping gigs, we can have a kid anytime we want."

"Yeah, man. It's no secret I don't think much of kaffirs," said Piet, using the derogatory Afrikaner term for blacks; "but the young ones sure make for great little sex-toys."

"Can we do a 4-way, like we did last time?"

"Sure. That'll be a good way to start off our little party," said the older man, looking over at Tamba and then at Joseph. "And I guess you'll want to watch again while I give my kaffir-boy a nice long fuck."

"You know you love showing off for me!" said the younger man with a grin. Nik was the submissive partner when he and Piet had sex with each other, but he got a special erotic thrill from watching while the older man fucked a child-whore… sometimes a girl of 11 or 12 or 13 years, but more often a boy of similar age.

While the soldiers talked, Tamba was whispering suggestions to Joseph for how to service a man sexually… such as how to give a blow-job without scraping the man's erection with his teeth, and how to dilate his anal muscle as the man's cock pushed in.

As they entered the hotel, the owner at the front desk greeted the soldiers warmly, ignoring the boys. But his demeanor became testy when the two soldiers asked for only one room. Several minutes of negotiations ended with them paying a 50% premium, and they headed upstairs with the boys. The room was reasonably clean but minimally furnished, having a double bed, a straight-back chair, and a wash-stand. Nik opened his rucksack and pulled out its contents: two pairs of white knee-high athletic socks, two Y-front white briefs, a tube of KY lube, a single condom, and a small camera.

"You're so damned kinky!" said Piet with a laugh. "But I have to admit that a black-skinned boy looks especially sexy in those white socks and underpants you bring along. Remember, though, that I don't want my face showing in any of your pictures."

"I never share them with anyone but you," said the young soldier. "I swear it! And I don't even store them on my laptop's hard-drive. We'll do it just like last time – you go through them when we're done and delete or edit any where someone could recognize you. A deal?"

"Fair enough. Let's get going," said Piet.

As Nik was directing Tamba to strip nude and clean himself at the washstand, Piet went over to the chair and sat on the edge of the seat. "Come here, boy," he said to Joseph in English. "Stand here in front of me." The soldier positioned the boy between his spread legs. "Let's start by taking these sissy clothes off you and put you in my mate's nice boy-clothes."

The soldier ran his hands slowly down Joseph's torso and then pulled off the tight shirt. The man's hands continued their exploration of the 11-year-old's chest and arms and shoulders… then around to his back, pulling him in closer.

"You nervous, boy?"

Joseph nodded. He had only a vague idea of what was going to happen. But he smiled at the soldier, as Mama had instructed him.

"Don't worry. You and me will have some good fun together. You want Uncle Piet to teach you how to be a good little whore and make lots of money for your family?"

"Yes, sir," said the youngster politely.

Piet's strong hands moved down Joseph's lower back, sliding inside the waistband of the panties, moving over the boy's smooth, firm butt. Then his fingers came around to the sides of the underwear and eased it down Joseph's thighs.

"Ah; there are your little treasures again!" said the man. As one hand fondled the boy's butt-cheeks, the other toyed with Joseph's immature balls and his soft penis, quickly manipulating it to a sexy, boyish erection. Then he turned Joseph around, so the boy's back pressed against the man's chest and crotch. The soldier's hands wandered freely over the front of Joseph's body. Piet's lips touched the dark brown skin of Joseph's neck, and he inhaled. It was a scent that he found irresistibly rich and sensuous. "Just like the smell of the little kaffir boy-whores back in Johannesburg, when I get them washed and ready to be fucked," he murmured in Afrikaans. "Almost as sexy as the smell of a white boy."

Joseph didn't understand what the man was saying, but he was experiencing the pleasure of a man's sexual caresses for the first time, and he liked it. Looking across the room, Joseph saw Tamba, now wearing the white underpants and knee-socks, lying on the bed. The young soldier had stripped off his own uniform down to army-issue boxer shorts, and his average-size erection stuck out obscenely through the slit in the front. He was alternating between fondling the boy's body, taking pictures of it, and stroking his own cock. The man was especially enthralled by the way Tamba's stiff boner pushed up a prominent ridge along the front of the snug briefs. Nik caressed the cloth-covered penis with his fingers and bent down to nuzzle it with mouth and nose, in between taking close-up photos. Then he moved to the boy's feet, pulling the socks up tight, fondling them lovingly, and taking more pictures.

"You suit my desires perfectly," murmured Nik in Afrikaans. The man peeled off his boxer shorts, jacked his erection a few more times, and said in English to the 13-year-old: "I want you to stroke my cock with your feet. Understand?"

Tamba smiled cheerfully and nodded. He was well-accustomed to indulging the sexual kinks of men. When he'd been a boy-soldier, it was not unusual during lulls in the fighting for a militia officer to take Tamba back to his hut for the night. And sometimes a group of officers, high on amphetamine, would have an all-night orgy of uninhibited debauchery with boy-soldiers and with the girls who had been kidnapped to serve as sex-slaves.

As the naked Afrikaner stood beside the bed, Tamba brought his feet up and rubbed them against the straining erection. Nik caressed the soft sock-clad feet, one in each hand, and then pressed them together on either side of his cock, thrusting his hips and fucking the passageway between the arches of the black-boy's feet.

"Ah… nice!" moaned the South African as he indulged his fetish for young boys in white socks. He pulled away before the urge for orgasm overcame him, and lifted a foot to his mouth to nuzzle it and suck at the cloth-covered toes. Then he looked over across the room. "Hey, Piet; how about we get some pictures of the boys playing together?"

"Sure, Nikky," said the older man indulgently.

In another minute, Joseph had pulled on the underpants and socks and was lying on the bed with Tamba, side-by-side on their backs, identically dressed, smiling at each other. Piet was stripping off his uniform as Nik took pictures of the two boys.

"Do some kissing," instructed the young soldier. "Feel each other up and do some sexy making out." Joseph, who had never kissed anyone in a sensual way, didn't know what to do. But Tamba took the lead, pulling the younger boy into an embrace, pressing their lips together, and teaching Joseph how to tongue-kiss. The 13-year-old also made a show of rolling them around on the bed, getting on top of Joseph and grinding their crotches together, then maneuvering so the smaller boy was on top, and groping Joseph's underpants-covered ass.

As Nik was taking pictures, Piet came up behind him, reaching around to stroke his buddy's cock, and rubbed his own boner against the younger soldier's butt.

"Pull off the boy's underpants," said Nik to Tamba. "Then lie on your back and have him kneel over your face, while you suck his cock."

Tamba knew just what to do and he whispered instructions to the younger boy. In a moment, Tamba had positioned Joseph with his pre-pubescent boner sliding smoothly into the older lad's talented mouth. Nik was giddily taking pictures of the boyhood sex-play from every angle, as Piet watched and continued fondling his friend's erection.

"Hey, Piet. Take some pictures of me going down on the older boy. Take a lot!" He handed the camera to his mate, positioned himself on the bed between Tamba's spread legs, and maneuvered the boy's handsome dark-skinned erection and balls out through the flap in the front of the soft briefs. As the older man took pictures, Nik fondled the stiff cock and soft ball-sack and then dipped his face down. At first he licked and sucked the balls, then licked his way up the slender penis-shaft, finally taking the cock-head into his mouth. The young man moaned with satisfaction as his lips and tongue explored the flared glans, and then began a rhythmic up-and-down sucking along the entire shaft. This boy's cock was perfect – half-mature, just the right size. The power-reversal of the Afrikaner soldier being sexually submissive to a black boy made this all the more erotic. 'I love sucking a black boy's cock!' he thought to himself.

Tamba felt the jolt of sexual pleasure instantly, and he thrust his hips up into the man's mouth. At the same time, Tamba sucked more aggressively on the little boy's penis, and his fingers dug into Joseph's slender butt cheeks.

"Stroke my cock, boy," Piet said to Joseph, taking the boy's hand and guiding it to his thick erection. He kept taking pictures with Nik's camera, capturing each element of the 4-way combination… zooming close to capture Joseph's stiff little penis sliding in and out of Tamba's sucking mouth… Nik's euphoric blow-job on Tamba's barely pubescent boner… and Joseph's small hand stroking Piet's own manly cock.

"Now, suck it," said Piet, as he removed Joseph's hand and pushed his crotch forward. "Suck my cock, kaffir-boy!" Piet hooked his left hand behind the boy's head and drew Joseph's mouth toward him, while continuing to take pictures with the camera in his right hand. "Do to me what your friend is doing for you."

The man's broad cock-head pressed against Joseph's lips, and the boy opened his mouth wide to accept it. He thought about Tamba's suggestion: "When the soldier tells you to suck it, cover your teeth with your lips so you won't scrape him." But it was difficult to do while his mouth was being invaded and fully stretched open in an O-shape by the thick erection. He tried his best, though, and the grunts of lust coming from the man suggested his efforts were good enough.

"That looks so sexy!" said Nik as he stopped sucking Tamba and stood up to watch. "Here; give me the camera."

Now Piet held Joseph's head firmly in both hands, as his hips began to thrust in a rhythmic cadence, deeper into the boy's small mouth. Joseph's eyes bulged and snot began to run from his nose. His throat gagged at the intrusion, but he was determined to persevere, knowing that this sex-work was making good money for his family.

Eventually, Piet pushed Joseph's head away. The boy breathed deeply, grateful to be rid of the unpleasant taste of the cock's pre-cum and the physical discomfort of his first blow-job. "I'm ready for the boy's ass," said Piet. "So what's your pleasure going to be this time, Nikky?"

"I want to start out with my boy giving me a fuck… big surprise, eh?… and then maybe we can trade-off our boys after you've shot your first load."

"Sounds like a plan," said the older soldier. "How about you start off by using your tongue to get my lad ready to be fucked?"

"Since you twist my arm…" said Nik with a laugh. He liked rimming a boy almost as much as he loved sucking them and being fucked by their young cocks. "How about you play with my boy while I prepare yours."

Nik lay on his back, his head propped up by the pillow, and instructed Joseph to lie atop him in the 69 position. The soldier maneuvered the boy so that his ass was right in front of the man's mouth.

"Suck my cock, lad," said the soldier, as he spread the little boy's butt cheeks with his hands and went to work with his tongue. At first he slathered around the outer flesh of the clean anal pucker with broad tongue-licks, then probed into it with his tongue-tip.

Joseph's mouth was already on the soldier's cock when he first felt the incredible sensation from his bottom-hole being licked. This was so much better than when he had sucked the older man! This one's penis was smaller for one thing, and Joseph was in control of how deeply it penetrated his mouth. And with the thrilling feeling rushing through his body from the rimming, it was completely enjoyable.

As he watched the activity on the bed, Piet stood behind Tamba, running his hands over the boy's naked body, paying particular attention at first to the 13-year-old's beautifully rounded buttocks. Then he reached around the front to feel the boy's stiff cock. Piet had never sucked kaffir-cock… it just didn't seem right for an Afrikaner. But he had sucked plenty of white boys, especially during his unit's recent posting in Kosovo, where the plentiful supply of young street-kids would do anything for 5 euros. Except for its color, this kaffir's cock was just like the type he had enjoyed so much in that Muslim Balkan country. As Piet became increasingly aroused at the thought, fondling the boyish erection and the dangling balls, he felt a brief temptation to suck the black boy's cock.

No, he decided. White boys are for sucking; kaffir boys are for fucking. It would be nice to fuck this one's amazing ass when he was through with the younger lad, but he could never see himself being anything but dominant with someone of the dark race. He gave Tambo's butt a sharp slap, surprising the boy at first, but then getting a grin from him as he tilted his buttocks up and back as if asking for another spank.

"OK; enough of that, Nikky. Let's switch back."

This was what Piet wanted most. He directed Joseph to lay face-down, perpendicular across the bed, the pillow underneath his hips and his legs dangling over the bedside. There'd be plenty of room for Nik and Tamba to go at it beside them. "Put some of this in his hole," he told Tamba, handing him the small tube of KY.

The older boy dabbed a generous finger-full on Joseph's asshole and then pushed his finger in, twisting it around inside the tight passage. Then he bent down and whispered a final suggestion in Joseph's ear.

As Piet was positioning himself behind Joseph, the other soldier lay on his back on the bed with his legs pulled back, with Tamba applying the lube to his ass as well. Then Nik handed the boy a condom – a Japanese variety specially designed for slender, short erections; perfect for the 13-year-old. AIDS was rife in this part of Africa, so there was no reason to take chances… not that the soldiers would be using condoms on their own cocks.

Piet's left hand pulled Joseph's ass-cheek to the side. His right hand directed his cock to its goal, nestling up to the lubricated entrance to the boy's virgin hole. He didn't thrust in fast and hard, although the thought was tempting. Unlike some he'd run across, Piet wasn't the brutal sort. He took no pleasure from hurting a boy. Instead he pushed forward slowly, savoring the tightness. He could see Joseph's hand clutching the bed-covers tightly, but there was no crying out. In fact, the boy was flexing open for him, rather than clamping shut. Maybe that's what the other boy whispered to him a minute ago.

Next to them on the bed, Tamba was moving his slender cock easily into the soldier's anus. "Yeah! Shove it in me!" said Nik. There was no need to take this one slow. The soldier reached between his pulled-back legs to stroke his cock as the boy started fucking him fast and hard.

Piet increased the speed and depth of his own fucking, thrusting deeper and pulling back farther each time. He couldn't see that Joseph was biting down on the bedcovers, fighting the urge to cry out… but it wouldn't have made much difference if he had. As long as the boy didn't complain, Piet wasn't about to slow up. And in any case, fucking the boy's wonderfully-tight ass felt fantastic!

As he gradually settled into his rhythm – an easy cadence of long fuck-strokes that could keep the session going a nice long time – Piet noticed that the boy was getting more relaxed, his hands no longer clutched tightly, the tension in his body loosening. Piet gave the boy's butt a friendly pat. "Good lad! You're a natural bum-boy!" All kaffir boys are, he thought.

Then the soldier looked down at buddy. Nik was slowly masturbating himself. He had his eyes closed, an ecstatic look on his face – just the way he did whenever Piet fucked him face-to-face.

Finally Piet looked over at Tamba, fucking away at Nik's ass – a rare treat for the boy-whore. Piet gave the boy a wink, then made a fist with his right hand and held it up. Tamba bumped it with his own fist, nodding his head as a big grin lit up his face.

Forty minutes later, Joseph stood with his mother out on the busy street, biting at the grilled chicken meat on a skewer that he held in one hand, and holding a bottle of coca cola in the other. He was dressed in just his trousers; bare-chested. The panties and sissy-shirt were in his mother's satchel – the shirt because it embarrassed Joseph to be seen in it on the street; the panties because semen was still leaking from his twice-fucked ass.

"I'm still angry that the other man used you too. I would have gotten more money if I'd known. Does your bottom-hole hurt, Baby?"

"It feels alright, Mama. It only hurt a little more than when you were stretching it with the cucumber. And that was just the first time, at the beginning. After that, it didn't feel bad at all." In fact, the boy thought to himself, he might actually come to enjoy this kind of work, just like Tamba. Especially if the customers sucked his penis, like that younger Blue-Helmet did.

"I'm getting ice cream after I finish with the next soldier; right Mama?"

Story 6
Schoolboy Geishas

[Author's note on language: In Japanese conversation, a suffix is added when one speaker is addressing the other by name or title, indicating the relative status of the speakers. The most familiar suffix – 'san' – is used by individuals of relatively equal rank. 'Chan' is used by someone of high status talking to a child or servant. 'Sama' is used by someone of low status addressing someone of high status. As for the several attempts at Japanese dialog in this story, I make no guarantees about accuracy.]

Major Tanaka removed his wire-rim glasses and rubbed his eyes. The task of reviewing the large cache of captured British documents was tedious but important. He ran a handkerchief over his face and buzz-cut hair, damp with sweat in the tropical heat. Looking out through the open windows of his combination office and living quarters, Tanaka admired the lush green playing fields of what until recently had been St. George's School for Boys, Singapore's preeminent boarding school for the sons of British families living throughout Southeast Asia.

Time for a break, he thought to himself. The 28-year-old officer picked up the small hand-bell from his desk and gave it a quick shake. Almost immediately the door opened, and the boy who had been waiting outside entered and bowed stiffly at the waist.

"Chuumon wo omachishiteimasu, Goshujin-sama!" [I await your orders, Master!], said the boy, trying his best to perform the deferential response to the summons in a way that would satisfy the man.

Not bad, thought Tanaka. The pronunciation was reasonably good, and the bow was too deep by only a centimeter or two. Certainly nothing to warrant disciplining the boy with the strap. He would work later with the lad to help him achieve perfection. For now, though, he had much more pleasant things on his mind.

"I will have tea, Nigel-chan," said Tanaka in English, using the diminutive Japanese suffix with Nigel's name. "In the usual manner of service."

"Dekiru koto wa nandemo shimasu, Goshujin-sama" [As you command, Master], the boy recited, bowing again. The man winced slightly at a flawed inflection in the phrase, but he let it slide. Nigel had been working to learn the Japanese language ever since the Imperial Army had conquered the British colony of Singapore, four weeks previously, but it was slow-going. Major Tanaka required the 12-year-old's use of Japanese in certain situations, but the intelligence officer was reasonably fluent in English, so it was easier for them to communicate in the boy's native language.

Nigel walked across the room and plugged in the electric kettle to heat water. Then he began undressing, in the very meticulous manner that Tanaka required. He was wearing traditional English school-boy clothing – the same uniform he'd worn when the room in which he now stood had been one of his classrooms. Nigel removed his tie, folding it in thirds and placing it just-so on the table. He did the same with his white short-sleeved shirt, arranging it as if it were displayed at a clothing store. His shoes came off, then his knee socks, then his short gray trousers… until he was wearing only underpants that were a size too small. The whole time, Nigel kept his gaze respectfully downcast, never once glancing at his master. But he knew that Tanaka would be lustfully staring at his body.

And indeed he was. Tanaka rubbed his crotch as he watched the boy carry out the stripping ritual perfectly. The officer found English schoolboys to be especially appealing as sex-objects, ever since he had been posted to the Japanese consulate in Calcutta back in '37 and '38. The consulate building was located on the same block as a school for the sons of British bureaucrats, providing a twice-daily sidewalk parade of cute European boys dressed identically in short trousers. When Tanaka's meager finances allowed it, he had patronized an upscale boy-brothel where boys with light skin and European features – perhaps the offspring of Indian whores and British soldiers – greeted their customers clothed as upper-class schoolboys. Tanaka found the faux-English boys to be well skilled in the pleasure arts, combining erotic creativity with sexual submission to the customer's desires.

Typically, however, the Japanese officer had satisfied his erotic needs at the city's many conventional boy-brothels, which were far less expensive but just as erotic. In these places, naked dark-skinned boys, ranging in age from scandalously-young children to sexually-mature lads in their early teens, danced sensuously to Indian music in the front room, eager to be selected by a customer and earn a few small copper coins for their sex-work in a backroom cubicle.

Now that Tanaka had acquired a full-time boy-servant, he had no need to spend his money in brothels. Nigel was a fine example of youthful beauty. His face was remarkably attractive, and his athletic body, on the verge of pubescence, was stunningly erotic to a man with a sexual taste for smooth slender European boys.

Wearing only snug white y-front briefs, Nigel turned his back to the man to prepare the tea service. The underpants clung to his firm rounded buttocks like a coat of paint, and he leaned forward a bit to tilt his bum upward, knowing that the Japanese officer enjoyed the sight. At the same time, he adjusted his soft penis so that it was pointing upward. When he turned back around, the front of his underpants displayed a vertical ridge.

With eyes still downcast, Nigel moved his hands over his boyish chest, toying with his small tan nipples briefly, then moved down to his tight abdomen. With sensuous slowness, the boy's hands slid over the front of the briefs, down across his upper thighs, and back up to hook his thumbs into the waistband. Just as slowly, he pulled the underpants down to uncover his penis and dangling half-size balls. Removing the briefs completely and placing them neatly with the rest of his clothing, he stood for inspection, hands by his side, head bowed subserviently.

Tanaka breathed a barely audible sigh, as the sight of Nigel's naked body quite literally took his breath away. The boy's penis had just recently begun its pubescent growth spurt. It was larger than a little-boy dick, but not yet touched by adolescence. It had taken a while for Tanaka to become accustomed to the starkly exposed head of the English boy's circumcised penis. But now he found the sight surprising appealing, with the elegantly-shaped glans on blatant display at all times. The penis pointed downward, in front of the soft and beautifully-formed scrotum. Without being touched, the organ began to move in a slow arc toward erection, as if a switch had been flipped to turn on a little motor. In less than a minute, it was pointing straight up, the length of the man's middle finger and the girth of his thumb. Erotic perfection!

Just as the officer was about to beckon his boy closer, the kettle began whistling. Nigel quickly prepared the tea service on a tray, warming the teacup with hot water, then pouring the water into the pot, adding a carefully measured portion of green tea. While counting off the brief brewing time in his head, the boy brought the tray over to his master's desk, then poured the tea into the cup and offered it with both hands to Tanaka, bowing respectfully.

Tanaka took a sip, savoring the tea's delicate flavor, and set down the cup. He drew the boy closer to his chair and ran his left hand over globes of the boy's tight rounded buttocks. The major's right hand was drawn to the exquisite boy-cock, which he stroked gently with his fingertips, causing the youthful penis to pulse even more stiffly erect.

"Do the India Dance, Nigel-chan, and pleasure yourself for my viewing," the man instructed, as he reached for his tea and took another sip.

Standing close enough to touch, the English boy began to move his body in a slow sensuous dance, having been trained by Tanaka to re-create the blatantly sexual movements that the officer had enjoyed when he patronized the exotic boy-brothels of Calcutta. With hands clasped behind his head, Nigel smoothly gyrated his hips, subtly thrusting his boyish erection toward his master. After a time, his hands wandered down, fingertips lightly caressing his body as he continued the sensuous stationary dance. Unlike before, Nigel now looked into the man's face, rather than keeping his gaze lowered. To Nigel's relief, Tanaka clearly was enjoying the show. When the man began to fondle his own erection through his trousers, Nigel knew it was time. His right hand slid down and began to masturbate his erect penis, using his thumb and two fingers to stroke. Knowing his master's preferences, Nigel let the pleasure show on his face – subtly, not exaggerated – and in the soft sighs of his high-pitched voice. As his hand began to move faster, his face and voice showed a greater degree of arousal.

The man's eyes greedily scanned the erotic display. The boy's face was exquisite; his torso was the model of boyish vitality. But the youthful erection being masturbated aroused Tanaka as no other sight could.

As the man drained the last of his tea, Nigel was masturbating more urgently, forming his thumb and forefinger in a ring to brush rapidly over the ridge of his cock-head as his hips thrust rhythmically.

"Finish, Nigel-chan," murmured the man as he massaged the front of his own trousers. "Achieve the moment of your ecstasy!"

The boy didn't need to be instructed, because his climax would have come in a few moments regardless. A shudder of pleasure ran through Nigel's body, and he gasped softly as the delicious sensations of pre-pubescent orgasm coursed through him.

His body finally still, the boy posed erotically for the man, with his hands again clasped behind his neck, as his penis throbbed and remained fully erect.

Without a word, Tanaka drew Nigel closer, between the man's parted knees, and fondled the boy's naked body.

"Kiss me with your tongue, Nigel-chan," said the Major, as his arms pulled Nigel's body into an embrace.

Until becoming the Japanese officer's personal servant – his slave, more accurately – Nigel had never kissed another person erotically. Not his First-Year classmates who had introduced him to the fun of masturbation and cock-sucking when the school year began, six months previously; not the Sixth-Year prefect who had seduced him into giving up his anal virginity (before dropping him to pursue yet another young sexual conquest a week or so later); not even the adult dorm-master who had once administered a brisk half-dozen strokes of a slender cane to Nigel's naked buttocks, followed by an intimate embrace and fondling of the weeping boy.

"Hai, Goshujin-sama," [Yes, Master], said the boy softly, as he brought his lips to the man's mouth and wrapped his arms around Tanaka's neck. The kisses were soft at first; almost timid. But Nigel was by now proficient in the erotic uses of his mouth, and soon their tongues were entwining aggressively. As they kissed, Tanaka toyed with the boy's genitals… the soft scrotum that held sparrow-egg balls, and the youthful penis that had remained erect even after its dry orgasm. At the same time, Nigel was gracefully unbuttoning the Major's uniform shirt and running his fingers through the sparse hairs on the man's chest.

As their kiss broke, Tanaka's hands pressed lightly on Nigel's shoulders, and the lad knelt. " Chinko o shaburu, otokonoko." [Suck my cock, boy.]

Nigel unfastened Tanaka's trousers, and the man lifted his hips slightly so the boy could slide them off, together with the man's undershorts. In a moment, Nigel was holding the officer's stiff penis in his hand, sliding the foreskin back to fully expose the reddened glans. Nigel brought his mouth down. His moistened lips slipped smoothly around the cock-head, joined immediately by the boy's tongue. Tanaka leaned back in his chair, and with a hand behind Nigel's head, guided the boy's mouth farther down the shaft. As the cock-head neared the back of his mouth, Nigel prepared himself mentally to take it into his throat. Tanaka's erect cock was of average size for a Japanese man, which is to say a bit shorter than average for a European… a good bit smaller, in fact, than the Sixth-Year student who had seduced Nigel three months prior. Taking a breath, Nigel willed his gag-reflex into submission, and the plump glans easily entered the boy's upper throat. Tanaka drew the boy's head fully onto the erection, sighing with delight at the sensations of penetrating the tight slippery passage.

With a subtle movement of his hand, Tanaka wordlessly instructed Nigel to begin a rhythmic up-and-down cock-sucking motion. The boy had performed this duty at least once each day (and often more) since he had been selected as the Major's servant, 33 days previously, and he knew the man's preferences in oral technique without being told. The boy's mouth moved up and down the erect penis, his wet lips sliding along the stiff shaft, his tongue slithering around the engorged cock-head, his hand gently kneading the man's balls. He varied the tempo and intensity of his sucking, sometimes letting the erection penetrate his throat in rapid lunges of his mouth, other times concentrating his attentions on the sensitive glans. The 12-year-old's goal was to bring his master up to a point just short of the orgasm. Once there, he would maintain the plateau of erotic ecstasy until Tanaka signaled for a cum-spurting finish. The Major marveled at how skilled his servant had become in just a month, masterfully mixing tempo and techniques, eliciting maximum pleasure with his lips, tongue, and throat.

Nigel had been working on Tanaka's penis for 15 minutes, tasting the man's level of arousal in the flow of pre-cum from the cock's piss slit. Just when he thought the Japanese officer would direct him to complete the job and swallow the load of semen, Tanaka pushed the boy's head away.

"I will retain my seed for now, Nigel-chan. I have been invited to dine and drink with General Komatsu tonight. You and his boy, Jeremy, will serve us."

Nigel knew that serving his master included not only feeding him with chopsticks and pouring his liquor, as a geisha girl would do back in Japan, but also being a sex-toy for the pleasure of the Major, and of the General as well. Several times over recent weeks, Tanaka had socialized with his fellow officers of the Army Intelligence Unit, together with their own boys. Although the men always got drunk on these occasions, Nigel had enjoyed the sexual variety they provided. He especially enjoyed the chance to interact with boys who had only recently been his classmates. Ordinarily the boys were forbidden to fraternize with each other. But at these social gatherings the boys would often be required to have sex with each other as their masters continued drinking and called out sexual acts for the boys to perform.

The General's boy, Jeremy, had been the most attractive boy in Nigel's class and one of the smartest. But his beauty was of an androgynous sort, and his manner was distinctly effeminate. He had tried to befriend Nigel at the beginning of the school year in September – and had in fact been the one who first introduced Nigel to masturbation and oral sex – but Nigel shied away from him because of Jeremy's quickly-earned reputation as a flaming nancy-boy. However, the boy's willingness to be a sex slut had made him a favorite among the Fifth- and Sixth-Years, who longed to fuck a girl's pussy, but happily settled for a session with Jeremy's feminine manner and accommodating ass.

Tanaka explained to Nigel what would be required of him that evening, noting that the General was sexually imaginative and admirably potent. Most of the Major's instructions were fully expected, but Nigel was shocked at one particular demand.

"But… but Goshujin-sama," Nigel whined in response; "why would you want me to…"

The Major's hand delivered a sharp slap across the boy's face.

"You dare to question me, you impudent sureibu [slave]?"

Nigel was speechless for a moment, his face stinging from the slap and flushing with shame. But he quickly began reciting the words of abject apology that he had memorized. "Moushiwake arimasen deshita, Goshujin-sama!" [I am so sorry, Master!]

"Silence, Nigel-chan! Bring me the strap, and lie across the desk to learn your lesson."

"Hai, Goshujin-sama!" said Nigel, bowing formally.

Four hours later…

Nigel and the Major were the only guests that evening at the General's residence – formerly the school headmaster's house. The two Japanese officers, dressed only in long silk robes, sat on cushions on the floor. Kneeling beside them were the two English schoolboys, feeding their masters morsels of grilled meat, slices of raw fish, and clumps of rice with ivory chopsticks. The only beverage was a fine Scotch whiskey that had been seized from the defeated British, and the boys refilled the small drinking cups frequently.

Both Nigel and Jeremy wore short robes that barely covered their genitals and buttocks when they stood still, and were obscenely revealing when the boys scurried to the kitchen to fetch more food from the cook. Conversation between the men, and between men and boys, was entirely in Japanese, so Nigel was mostly silent. Jeremy, however, was far more proficient in the language and flirted shamelessly with the General, much as a young geisha girl would. And in return, Komatsu let his hand wander frequently to fondle the effeminate boy's penis and butt while Jeremy stood or knelt beside him. Tanaka followed his commander's lead, though more subtly, occasionally running a hand over Nigel's shapely bare buttocks, still a bit rosy and sensitive from the afternoon's punishment.

General Komatsu was a small slender man of 51 years. Though his short-cropped hair was graying, he kept himself in excellent physical condition. Like the samurai warriors of the past (from whom he was descended), Komatsu was intensely attracted to the physical charms of boys. When he was given command of the military intelligence unit in the 25th Army, he purposefully staffed it with officers who shared his erotic tastes. While boy-love was no longer as common in Japan as it had been a century before, it was by no means taboo. As the 25th Army embarked on Japan's unbroken string of military successes in China and Southeast Asia, culminating in the conquest of Singapore, Komatsu had seen to it that each of his officers had a beautiful local boy to serve as personal servant and sex toy. In Thailand, he had selected young Buddhist novices from a monastery in Bangkok, all of whom had already been initiated into the ways of sexual service by the older monks. When the Malayan Peninsula was conquered, he had made his selection from the boy-harem in the palace of the British colony's figurehead Sultan. And on the island of Singapore, the General had plucked the choicest 12- and 13-year old boys from the First-Year class of St. George's School, before the rest of the students and all of the faculty were sent to labor camps on the mainland. Each time, Komatsu had kept the most erotically-appealing boy for himself.

The two officers had consumed half the bottle of Scotch, and were happily swapping stories of past sexual escapades, comparing the sexual appeal of their English boys to the other nationalities of boys that each had enjoyed previously. Finally, General Komatsu issued the challenge that Tanaka had been expecting. "Shall we have our boys wrestle, as we did with those harem boys in Kuala Lumpur? With the usual wager on the outcome, naturally. I have a special room prepared for the contest."

"Of course, General!" said the Major. "It will be very erotic to watch their naked bodies tussle."

As Komatsu gave instructions to his boy in Japanese, Major Tanaka spoke to Nigel in English. "Do as I instructed you this afternoon, Nigel-chan. Do not disappoint me."

"Hai, Goshujin-sama," the boy replied, trying to sound enthusiastic, knowing quite well the undesirable consequences of disappointing his Master.

The two servant-boys and their tipsy masters made their way to an upstairs room in which the floor was covered by a padded wrestling mat that had been brought from the school's gymnasium. Each man removed his own boy's short robe to fully expose their naked bodies, and each fondled his boy's penis to erection.

Jeremy's body was quite slender and elegant, as exquisite as his face, and as pale and delicate as porcelain. The total package was a breathtaking example of androgynous boy-beauty at the cusp of puberty. The hair on his head was a nest of soft blond curls, while his body was devoid of all but nearly invisible peach-fuzz hair. Though he lacked Nigel's sturdy build, Jeremy was 13 years old and farther along in puberty than his classmate, his erect penis longer and thicker (though not yet mature). As they faced off at the center of the wrestling mat, the boys couldn't help but eye each other from head to foot, and especially their stiff young cocks. They would wrestle in the American style, as Japanese Sumo was too sacred to be mocked by naked gaijin boys. Victory would be achieved by pinning the opponent's shoulders to the mat.

As the two schoolboys took hold of each other's arms in a wrestler's clinch, Jeremy brought his mouth close to Nigel's ear and whispered. "I'm supposed to win, I hope you know." The tone was arrogant and privileged.

"Yes; I know it!" Nigel hissed back; "and I think it utterly ridiculous."

"Don't worry old chap. All the other boys are required to lose to me too. Can't have Taisa-sama [Honored General] lose face, can we? So let's put on a good show, shall we? And then we can enjoy some sexy fun with our masters afterwards, eh?"

And with that, Jeremy actually began to exert himself. He wasn't strong or skilled, and Nigel could easily have defeated him. But Nigel had clear instructions as to who would win… instructions reinforced by twenty painful swats of a leather strap.

They wrestled more for show than for competition, with the boys' bodies rubbing together enticingly. Though they had both taken showers shortly before the dinner, the tropical heat quickly raised a sweat on both boys. As they wrestled, it was as if their naked skin was slick with oil. Their bodies frequently rubbed cock-against-cock; sometimes cock-against-butt. It was little wonder that both lads maintained their stiff erections throughout.

"I have noticed that your boy has a good red glow to his buttocks," remarked the General as he and Tanaka watched the show while reclining on an assortment of cushions and continued drinking. "It reflects well on you that you take his training and discipline seriously. He seems a fine servant and sex-boy."

"You honor me with your kind praise, Taisa-san," answered the Major, bowing his head slightly.

"I find that I haven't the heart to give proper discipline to my Jeremy. I wouldn't risk bruising the perfect skin of his buttocks. The only spankings he gets are playful slaps of my bare hand as he lies across my lap, just before he joyfully takes my cock in his ass."

"He is indeed an object of great beauty, and very exotic in appearance," flattered Major Tanaka. "And he is quite the wrestler as well, I see."

The General did not reply, but only smiled smugly in response.

Nigel and Jeremy rolled around on the mat in each other's arms, neither giving full exertion. They were both sexually aroused, which would serve them well during the next phase of the evening's activities.

"Time to end it, old chum," whispered Jeremy, when he was lying atop Nigel's face-down body, his erection sliding in the cleft of the Nigel's butt. And without waiting for a response, Jeremy leveraged his opponent onto his back, using a half-nelson hold that resulted in Nigel's shoulders pinned to the mat and his face pressed against Jeremy's sweaty hairless armpit. The older boy immediately jumped to his feet, triumphant, and bowed to his master.

Nigel, with a sour look on his face, was slower to get up, and his bow to the two Japanese officers was executed sloppily.

The General clapped his hands with delight, almost as if he believed the match had been conducted fairly. "Bring the Major's boy over to me, Jeremy-chan," said the General in Japanese. "Put on a show to arouse my senses, before I take him for my pleasure." The older man looked over at Tanaka and was pleased to see the man looking appropriately shamed by Nigel's display of mild petulance in defeat.

"Taisa-sama wants us to put on a little sex-show for him," said Jeremy, guessing (correctly) that Nigel hadn't understood the man's Japanese instructions. "Do everything I tell you. First, stand about two meters in front of my Master, and put your hands behind your head, displaying your body like a good slave-boy, while I feel you up."

Nigel did as he was instructed, reverting to the subservience that had become second nature to him. Standing in the submissive position, he looked down to see that his penis remained rigidly erect, while his balls dangled down in the warm air. When he glanced up at to Japanese officers, Nigel noted that both seemed to be enjoying the sight of his naked body.

Jeremy stood behind Nigel, wrapping his arms around the younger boy's chest, pinching his tiny nipples, then let his hands slide down across Nigel's belly to his erection. Standing directly in front of the seated men, Jeremy began masturbating Nigel's stiff penis as he ground his own cock into the young boy's buttocks.

A look of mischief came over on Jeremy's face as he stepped back from Nigel and said: "Turn around and get on your knees and bow down to the floor, slave-boy; worship my feet with your mouth until I order you to use your mouth elsewhere." He repeated the command in Japanese for the General's benefit.

Nigel looked over at Major Tanaka, who didn't speak but conveyed in his expression that his boy must submit to anything that was demanded.

The 12-year-old's resentment at losing the wrestling match quickly faded, replaced by a curiosity about Jeremy's sexual aggression. Nigel had always considered the 13-year-old to be sexually appealing, but the addition of dominance and submission ratcheted up the erotic excitement. Nigel had been conditioned for the past month to be completely submissive to every sexual demand of his master and had grown to enjoy the erotic thrill. As Jeremy inclined the front of his bare right foot upward, Nigel dipped his face down and kissed it.

"Lick it, slave!" demanded Jeremy is a melodramatic voice. Nigel complied immediately, lapping like an eager puppy at the shapely boy-foot, as he displayed his perfect light-pink anus for the general's lustful gaze.

"Suck my toes!"

Again the younger boy complied, sucking the big-toe as if giving oral sex to a plump little penis, then moving to the others one by one. After a couple minutes, Jeremy pulled his foot away and deftly used it to push Nigel's mouth to the other foot, where the younger boy performed the degrading service without the need for direction.

"Enough of that," said Jeremy. "Time for you to lick my bum-hole like a good sex-slave." He turned around and bent at the waist, pushing his buttocks into Nigel's face. "Rim me, slave!"

Nigel parted Jeremy's butt cheeks with both hands and looked at the smooth pink anus, beautiful and inviting. He brought his tongue to the pucker and licked, slowly and gently at first, savoring the taste of salty sweat and the smell of soap mixed with subtle musk. Then he began to lick more aggressively, drilling his tongue-tip into the hole as the other boy flexed it open. Jeremy looked back over his shoulder at the general, noting the man's obvious enthusiasm for watching the hot sex-show being enacted by the two naked boys.

"Now suck my cock," said Jeremy, as he turned around and thrust his firm erection into the other boy's face.

Just as Nigel began running his mouth over the other boy's barely-pubescent cock-head, Jeremy thrust in deeply. Holding two fists-full of Nigel's hair, Jeremy began face-fucking the boy, trying to make him gag. Nigel tried his best to take the assault, and he was largely successful.

General Komatsu, smiling broadly, turned to Major Tanaka and said: "Your gaijin slave is doing well so far. I am feeling lust for him to please me. And then, of course, I need to decide what I shall require of you as a penalty for your boy losing to my boy." He drained his glass of whiskey and set it down, knowing that Tanaka would immediately finish his own drink and refill both glasses.

Tanaka said nothing, but dipped his head in deference to the older man. The two officers had played this drunken game before, with other boys in other countries, and the General had a knack for inflicting just the right amount of sexual humiliation on the younger man – enough to arouse both mens' sexual kinks, but not so much that Tanaka would feel personally disgraced when he awoke the next morning. This time, however, he decided to push the game farther than before.

"Bring the Major's boy to me, Jeremy-chan," said Komatsu in Japanese. "We'll see how well he sucks a man's cock."

The General parted the front of his robe to reveal an erection that was long and thick by Asian standards. The hair around it had been shaved, emphasizing the size even more.

Nigel bowed to Komatsu and quickly positioned himself between the man's spread legs.

"Suck me," said the General in Japanese, as he lifted his hips in anticipation.

"Hai, Goshujin-sama," said the boy softly, and his mouth opened wide to take in the plump cock-head. His tongue swirled slowly around the prominent ridge of the glans as the General leaned back into the cushions. His hands came up to Nigel's head and drew the boy's mouth down onto the thick erection. Fighting against his impulse to gag, Nigel quickly brought his lips all the way down the engorged shaft, taking the glans fully into his throat. The General's hands pressed the boy's head even closer, and he arched up his hips for good measure. Nigel kept calm and didn't struggle to pull away, even as his lungs called out for him to breathe. When Komatsu finally released his grip, Nigel slid his mouth up just enough to take a breath. Then his lips slid all the way down the man's stiff cock again, making rapid swallowing movements with his throat muscles surrounding the man's cock-head. He began to move his mouth up and down, slithering his tongue along the shaft and head, striving to give the best possible oral service, while his fingers fondled the man's heavy balls.

"He sucks as well as any boy I've ever taken!" said the General, as his body shuddered with lust. "Except for my Jeremy, of course," he added as an afterthought, smiling at his boy.

Tanaka acknowledged the praise with a nod. He was watching every move that Nigel made, and so far the performance had been flawless. His own sexual arousal, fueled by alcohol and the sight of his boy sucking another man, made the Major's cock rigidly erect.

"I require that you prepare the boy's hole for me to fuck, Major," said Komatsu, grinning mischievously. "With your tongue."

Tanaka blushed with embarrassment, but his hard cock throbbed with increasing lust.

"Don't pretend you haven't done it before, Major. Remember that little Russian brothel-boy in Manchuria that we shared last year? Now get to it."

Tanaka positioned himself behind Nigel, while the boy continued his vigorous oral pleasuring of the General. Tanaka parted the boy's ass cheeks and extended his tongue, licking the sensitive flesh of Nigel's anus. He had never done this to his boy before, but the thrill of the taboo act drove him to lick aggressively.

The General delighted in watching the junior officer abasing himself sexually, and he decided to ramp up the action.

"I will fuck your boy… and when I tell you, you will suck his little cock… while my Jeremy will fuck your ass!"

Tanaka blushed a brighter shade of red, but he knew that he must obey. In fact, his liquor-addled brain found the command to be intensely erotic.

The General's hands turned Nigel's slender body around so he was facing away, straddling the man's hips. The boy reached down and aimed the spit-slick cock into his equally lubricated anus, then opened himself to penetration as he eased down on the plump phallus.

The General's body strained with excited anticipation as the boy impaled himself on the throbbing cock. The man's hands caressed Nigel's slender body as boy completed the smooth entry… sitting firmly on the man's lap, holding the entire length of the cock snugly inside his tight ass.

Nigel shivered as he experienced the intoxicating eroticism of his rectum being filled by firm, masculine warmth… the delicious pleasure of a man's erection sliding along his anal nerves and rubbing against the special place a few centimeters inside.

The boy flexed his thigh muscles, balancing his body with his hands on the man's knees, as Komatsu's erection slid almost all the way out of the tight slippery tunnel. And then the boy's body eased down again to full penetration.

The General's right hand reached for the lad's stiff immature erection and fondled it. His left caressed Nigel's body, from his soft thighs to his boyish chest, teasing the boy's small nipples into tiny stiff points. Then his fingers went to the boy's mouth, and Nigel instantly sucked in the index finger, fellating it as if it were a boy's penis, sucking and licking as he continued to ride the General's cock.

Komatsu nuzzled the boy's neck, inhaling Nigel's delicious scent. As the boy's ass rose and fell in a steady cadence, they both sighed with sublime pleasure.

"Time to suck your boy's cock!" said the General to Tanaka, as he reclined back on the cushions and pulled Nigel's body back against his chest and began energetically thrusting his cock into the boy's ass.

The Major positioned between the spread legs of both the General and Nigel and brought his mouth down to the boy's stiff young penis. It wasn't the first time he had sucked the boy-cock during the weeks that Nigel had been his sex-toy, though he tried to resist the temptation. And now, drunk on whiskey and primed with lust, Tanaka went at it with a hungry passion. The small erection, slender and elegant, slid back and forth between the Major's lips and along his flicking tongue. Only inches away, just below Nigel's rounded ball-sack, the General's cock kept thrusting into the boy's ass.

As the erotic tableau unfolded, Jeremy spread lubricant onto his beautiful adolescent erection and knelt behind Major Tanaka. First, however, he leaned down and brought his tongue to the man's anus, licking and probing at the puckered hole. Then he brought his stiff penis to the entrance and slowly pushed forward, penetrating the ring of muscle with his cock-head. The Major stopped sucking for just a moment, savoring the wonderful mix of erotic feelings as the slender erection eased into his rectum. But then he began sucking again with renewed vigor as he felt himself being fucked with slow, rhythmic thrusts.

The four participants began moving in harmony, each one giving and receiving pleasure in equal measure, their bodies straining with growing lust. The tempo of thrusting and sucking gradually increased until it reached a crescendo of absolute arousal. And then the orgasms began to explode in quick succession. The General came first, thrusting fast and hard into Nigel's ass, as his arms held the boy tightly against his chest. Then came Nigel, his 12-year-old erection convulsing in dry-orgasm against his master's pleasuring tongue.

As Jeremy continued his fuck-thrusts, he reached down and began briskly masturbating Tanaka's straining erection, bringing him to a thundering climax in seconds and making his anal muscles tremble and contract around boy's thrusting cock. Only a moment later, Jeremy's penis unleashed spurts of boy-cum into the Major's body.

The two men and two boys clung together for a brief time, as their orgasms gradually subsided. Then they pulled apart as the Japanese men composed themselves and the English boys awaited their next instructions.

"The boys will put on a sex-show for us until our cocks stiffen again," said the General, as he held his glass out for the Major to refill.

Turning to Jeremy, the General said "I enjoyed seeing you play the master to Major Tanaka's slave. I wish to see more of that."

And so the four-way orgy continued into the night.