It was during the Second World War; I was barely fourteen and the city in which I resided was a time bomb; the Nazis could not be far off in their quest to capture all of Poland. Other cities were already under siege and rumors of atrocities were rampant. It was rumored that rape, torture, murder, mass incarceration and even deportation of people that were deemed not to fit the Nazi profile were being carried out in the wake of the invasion of my homeland.
I understood little, at the time, being the only child of a loving, well-off Polish father and Swedish mother. I was sheltered from evil-doings as much as possible. I did however overhear, as children are wont to do, the whispered discussions of adults and the very scary sounding man blaring from the RCA Victor. Not understanding German, I was truly frightened by the very tone of his loud, angry voice.
My parents struggled but, in the end, made the final decision to send me off to live in the country with my maternal aunt and uncle, and my younger female cousin. It was said that life there, some 200 miles to the south, was still serene and safe, as the Nazis had bigger fish to fry. Their strategy seemed to follow the pattern of ‘Conquer the major cities and the rest of the population would fall to its knees’. My mom, despite her tears, put on a brave face as she put me on the train that early spring morning saying, “It would be temporary, at least until things settled down and then they would bring me home.” My destination was a village of no more than five-hundred residents. My uncle owned a small farm on the rural outskirts. Chickens, a noisy rooster, a few cows and pigs and a vast vegetable garden provided sustenance for his family. Their home was a small, modest structure, actually quite primitive from the city homes I was used to. There was no running water, indoor plumbing and electricity were to be enjoyed as a luxury if one could afford them, but the family seemed content existing on basic necessities, their self-reliance and their staunch Catholic faith.
My make-shift bedroom was a windowless converted storage area off the kitchen that I shared along with shelves and boxes containing the normal paraphernalia for which storage rooms are generally intended. It was rather cramped, with no ventilation and small. It had a curtain strung across the opening where a door may have previously hung. But it did offer some privacy and the old feather bed tucked into the corner was very comfortable indeed. It was certainly a much better alternative than sharing a room with my cousin, Beth, who enjoyed a very spacious room all to herself. After all, although we were cousins it just wasn’t right for a boy and a girl of our age to share sleeping quarters which was fine with me.
Not that I wasn’t fond of Beth, because I was. She was very pretty with her blond hair and blue eyes similar to mine, traits inherited from our Swedish mothers and in reality, our resemblance was so alike that we could easily have been taken as brother and sister. I was of the age where boys had a mild, but growing, interest in the fairer sex and a rather compelling interest in my pubertal development and its amazing wonders.
I had discovered masturbation at an earlier age. It was about the same time I learned snippets of information regarding sexual matters. I knew the basics; men get women pregnant, but the actual knowledge of how one went about doing so only came to light when I happened upon a cousin and his friend enjoying the day at a mutually shared favorite fishing hole. My cousin Henry, fifteen, and his friend Joseph, fourteen, had stolen a bottle of red wine from a vendor’s cart in the city and were sharing the pilfered contraband when I happened upon them. I was immediately sworn to secrecy, of course, but wasn’t offered the opportunity to share in the inspiration of their giddiness.
It was a very hot afternoon and the fishing hole also served as a fine swimming area for the local kids. Before long, both boys had stripped naked and were frolicking and horsing around in the water, dunking and crawling atop one another giggling like a couple of school girls.
When they exited the water, both boys sported erections which they made no attempt to hide from each other or, for that matter, from me. I had never before seen another boy in such a state and, of course, their development was even more intriguing compared to my own small, still hairless genitals.
Henry was far more advanced than his friend. He had a long, thick shaft under which were suspended a hairless sac holding his low hanging testicles and above which there was a mat of wet black hair plastered to his groin area. Joseph was maybe equally as long but lacked the girth and his pubic hair was sparse. His testes were smaller and not unlike my own.
My interest was that of sheer boyhood curiosity and not of a sexual nature by any means. I gawked a little as I took in the remarkable male genital stages, from my own boyhood immature display, to Joseph’s mid-range development and, finally, to the manhood proportions that I suspected Henry had reached.
To make a long story short, the previous evening the boys claimed to have witnessed a couple of prostitutes servicing two Polish military men in a dark alley. Henry and Joseph began to mimic the sex acts as they say them performed in the darkened alley, laughing and talking like girls, making the same lewd sexual comments that they had overheard.
From a standing position, Henry turned Joseph around. He immediately bent him over, enabling him to support himself on a fallen tree. Henry then placed his large erection between his friend’s legs and, with exaggerated gusto, began pumping; hooting and hollering very foul words. Joseph, for his part in this little reenactment, was begging in a mock female voice for Henry to do “it” harder.
The playful shenanigans lasted only for a few moments before both boys broke into hysterical laughter. But the show being put on for my benefit wasn’t quite finished yet. Henry, placing his strong hands on Joseph’s shoulders, told Joseph to get on his knees and suck his “big Polish dick.” They were obviously mimicking another sexual act seen in that dark alley.
I was aghast when I quickly figured out what this new scene entailed. Even though Joseph didn’t actually take Henry’s thick penis into his mouth, he made open mouth gestures with it just grazing the head with his lips while his hand was firmly wrapped around the shaft slowly stroking it as Joseph thrust his hips to and fro.
Although it was a playful reenactment of events, I remember Henry becoming serious and, looking down, asking Joseph to actually perform oral sex on him. I truly believe that Joseph was contemplating doing exactly that after several more prodding attempts by Henry but, after a quick glance my way, he rose to his feet red in the face.
Joseph began asking Henry to masturbate himself so that he could again see an apparent “geyser” shoot out; something that Henry had obviously done and Joseph had seen at some previous point in time. Henry obliged. He lay down on the grass and frantically beat his meat. I was bewildered at the purpose and objective which Joseph was so keen to witness again. Joseph was so anticipating the end result that when Henry’s hand grew tired, his hand reached out, took control of the matter and shortly thereafter brought the “geyser” forth much to my amazement and awe.
So that was my basic induction into fornication and oral sex, although both acts had been simulated. But, the act of masturbation was a very real eye opener for me to witness and I did experiment with such regularity that I developed a very painful friction burn. When the actual joy of ejaculation finally took place, it was not nearly as voluminous and ivory-white as my cousin Henry had spewed that hot summer day, but I was very proud of my new accomplishment nonetheless.
The Nazi military infrequently passed through the village of my temporary exile, stopping only briefly to replenish supplies of whatever they needed, procured free of charge of course in the name of the Fuhrer. These ‘visits’ were always forewarned in advance as mass amount of troops moving north could not go unnoticed and word traveled quickly to the hamlets in their path.
As a precautionary measure, teenage girls and unwed women were sent underground. The intent was to get them out of harm’s way lest the Nazis had intentions of overstaying their welcome and deciding to alleviate their pent-up manly desires and take advantage of their arrogant wartime lawlessness.
This was, in fact, the case one day in mid-August when several battalions stationed themselves near the village. It was rumored that they were awaiting orders to occupy my home city. Soldiers outnumbered residents at least four to one as they settled and erected a base camp nearby that disrupted the meek inhabitants’ peaceful way of life. Life as the village had known it had finally been met with the ugly face of war.
High ranking officials commandeered private homes to reside in while they awaited orders. It was expected that homeowners would house and feed these VIP’s without question and with open arms. People were so fearful of the Nazis that they went out of their way to host such powerful men. It became a fierce competition to attract those most powerful into their dwellings as it was believed that a certain safety factor was gained by accommodating them to ensure their home and family would be safe from pillage or destruction. A swastika hung on a door signified that the home was off limits to rogue infantry marauders.
My aunt and uncle were no different in their plight for self-preservation and opened their home to such a man. I did not know his rank or his name but he was in his mid-thirties and so handsomely blond and blue-eyed he could have been the poster boy for Hitler’s “ultimate” race.
The very first night of his arrival he was treated like royalty. Liquor was flowing like water between my uncle and the man.
My aunt prepared a fabulous meal of roast pork, chicken and all the trimmings. She was manicured, primped and dressed in a gorgeous white frock, more beautiful than she ever portrayed herself before. Beth and I could only look at each other and shrug shoulders at the unusual behavior of her otherwise religious, tee-totaling parents who were practically falling over the man to be hospitable.
Lanterns illuminated the surroundings like never before seen in the household. Kerosene was scarce and rationed, but our prestigious boarder saw fit to supply the liquid-gold; most likely for his own convenience and comfort.
Even at my young, naive age it occurred to me as if my aunt was flirting with the Nazi guest at our table. Her willingness to be bedded by the man, with her husband’s consent, was only a noble effort to deflect attention from their young daughter, should the man be so inclined. The parents had gone through great effort to disguise Beth’s true beauty by making her appear quite unkempt with messy, lard greased hair, soiled skin and baggy clothes.
The two different languages, German and Polish, didn’t seem a barrier because each party compromised on a limited repertoire of broken English; a language that I had only just began studying in school and had yet no proficiency in. Throughout dinner and beyond, the man stared at me and would beam a broad smile when I met his gaze, toasting me often which seemed to cause an uneasy tension between my guardians. Their eyes locked upon each other’s in some form of unspoken discussion, then upon mine.
I could easily read a certain fear in the sudden change of aura but, as quick as it would happen, a semblance of normality resumed when my aunt or uncle would sway the man’s attention away from me and a round of laughter ensued.
The interpretation given to me by my uncle was that the German thought I was too pretty to be a boy. It was a comment I heard so often in my life that I loathed it. I felt there may have been more said but that was all that was relayed to me.
Earlier that evening our guest had selected Beth’s room to be his sleeping quarters, obviously because it was spacious and a far nicer accommodation as befitting his status. He certainly had no interest in my tiny, cramped, airless, impromptu bedroom. Beth’s parents had decided that Beth would bunk in with me for the duration of his visit despite the moral improprieties. I surmised that some things could be overlooked in a time of crisis.
Beth and I were finally excused from the table to prepare for bed. As I stood to bid a polite good night, the man pulled me into him and ran his hand through my hair and down my face mumbling something that I didn’t understand. Whatever he said was nor translated for my benefit. It was apparent that my aunt and uncle understood because the forlorn look returned to their faces.
This time they were staring bug-eyed on the German who was chuckling to himself in self-amusement as he groped my bum and held me there a long while as the adult conversation and revelry waned. His voice took on a serious tone and his eyes peered intently at my uncle, until some kind of agreement had been sealed at which time my uncle lowered his head, as if in dismay, studying his goblet of liquor.
My gut instinct told me that I was the center of all the angst. I didn’t believe that I had done anything disrespectful and, had I done so, why was I not being reprimanded? The German dismissed me with a pat on the bum and a jovial laugh that only added to my confusion.
White as a ghost and trembling visibly, my aunt rose from the table and summoned Beth to follow. The sleeping arrangements were abruptly changed and Beth was told she would share her parents’ bed. Perhaps the ethical implications, however innocent they seemed to me, became too much of a burden on their religious conscience or so I reasoned.
Whatever had dampened their earlier merriment had been forgotten. The drunken festivities continued long into the night. My uncle and the Nazi officer could be heard talking, singing and laughing to the frequent sound of clinking glasses and the decanting of a bottle replenishing goblets.
Lying on my side facing away from the curtained doorway, I awoke to the hairs standing on the back of my neck. A soft glow from a carried lantern made shadows dance upon the walls and ceiling. The edge of the bed gave concave and the springs squeaked to the unmistakable settling of a person whose heavy breaths were quite audible along with a low throaty cooing.
My relatives had never paid a visit to my room during the night mainly because I was old enough to tuck myself in and I was no longer in need of a goodnight kiss. I was frozen in fear because I knew for certain who had invaded my space but for what reason was beyond me. I felt his fingers play with my hair, gently twisting it like my mother sometimes did when we cuddled.
Over top of the bed sheet another hand was stroking my left hip and wandered to my bum, gently cupping and squeezing one cheek and then the other. The breathing intensified as I lay there mortified, paralyzed and holding my breath.
After he made a slight adjustment in his position, I sensed his face close to mine and the smell of liquor and cigarettes gave way to the tickle of his whiskers against my cheek which he kissed tenderly. I wanted to yell out for help but something deep within me told me that the effort would be futile. I didn’t know why that was, just that the man possessed power over all logical thinking that even my young brain could reckon as being truth. My weasel like uncle would be no match for this virile, slightly younger man.
The protective sheet that surrounded me was slowly lowered as he urged me onto my back. I kept my eyes closed as he lifted my nightshirt up to my belly exposing my genitalia under the dim light of the lantern resting on a box close by. He played with them; groped and manhandled me so roughly that his actions caused me to yelp. My feigning sleep was no longer possible and I opened my eyes wide.
After staring into his eyes and friendly enough smile, I couldn’t help but look down along his body and notice his lower region.
My fears doubled when I saw him holding what appeared to be his baton between his legs. I thought it was the same baton that adorned his belt which one couldn’t help but notice amongst his pistol, bullets and other displayed weaponry. It was only when he moved forward that I realized he had his trousers down and it was his manhood that he was grasping. It was huge by all standards that I knew. It was much larger in size than my only other comparison, my cousin Henry.
He kissed my lips breathing heavily, followed by his tongue probing entry into my mouth; just as I’d seen others do at social dances. His taste of smoke and liquor was putrid. I was being suffocated. It had been a slow recuperation from a summer cold and my sinuses still clogged. I could scarcely breathe. Merciful, he grew weary of slobbering my mouth.
Aghast, all I could do was lie there and stare when he suddenly rose and stripped himself. As he was standing naked staring down at me for a few moments, I had the distinct impression that he was peacocking himself almost as if seeking my approval of his manliness. The soft glow of the lantern cast enough light to see that he was indeed well-endowed and hairless down to his groin where a nice thick golden bush flourished. His testicles were large and suspended beneath the upright pointed shaft where a bead of liquid glistened at the purplish tip. Taking a long, slow look up the length of his strong, well-defined body to meet his eyes, I couldn’t help but admire the beautiful sight and strangely, I smiled.
That subtle and naive sign of admiration seemed to please him. His hands tugged at my night shirt, pulling it from under my bum and over my back. A slight tear was heard as he forced it upward over my head and tossed it atop the pile of his own clothing. Ogling my nakedness laid out before him, it was his turn to give an assuring smile. I had absolutely no comprehension of my sexual fate; however, I somehow knew in my heart that this night would change my life.
The German lay on top of me slowly pushing my arms up to behind me head. He then commenced with the slobbery kisses beginning at my ticklish armpits, slowly making his way across my chest, taking time to nibble my nipples so that each suddenly took on a slightly larger and firmer form of their own. Tender in using his teeth and tongue, I found the strangeness of it not at all unpleasant. I had heard boys talk of suckling titties claiming that girls loved the sensations. Now having the experience I reasoned that the pleasure wasn’t gender restricted.
He continued to lick and nibble down my torso, swabbing my navel for a short while before reaching my groin. He toyed with my sac, kneading and rolling the contents in his fingers as his other hand wrapped around the base of my shaft that I hadn’t even realized had become hard. Shame overwhelmed me. My inner-self battled with my emotions. Surely what was happening was wrong and yet my erection clearly deceived all logic. How could it be wrong when it felt so right?
He did what Henry wanted Joseph to do so badly that day not all that long ago. His mouth felt nice upon me His warm and moist lips secured tightly over the entire length while the heavy breath from his nostrils fluttered my sparse pubic hair and was warm upon my skin.
Clearly, he wanted to take me to orgasm. He paused his blissful assault on my rampant cock and muttered something in German I just knew was encouragement to allow myself the mental freedom to relax and let nature take its course. I came moments later with my fingers gripping the sheets and my pelvis meeting his piston like mouth with every gratifying spasm of ejaculate. Oddly enough, the fact that I was spunking in his mouth only seemed to increase the eager ravage of my genitalia. I was not at all offended nor did I lay there in disgust. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that I would be expected to perform the same deed on him.
It was evident that my own experience had been applied by him as a demonstration. My whole body was trembling, not in passion but fear. I was shaking as if the ninety degree temperature of the room had been below zero. The scent of his crotch was strong. It had an odor that I was hard pressed to compare with anything else. Warm and velvety to the touch in my hand, I studied his large sausage-like member for a while, curious about the ooze flowing over the crown that I wiped away with my hand in preparation to take the meat in my mouth. But, just as soon as I would wipe the clear liquid away, another dollop would seep forth.
After a great deal of hesitation and at his insistent urging as he pushed on (upon) my head, I mimicked the pleasurable performance he had bestowed upon me although, I’m sure, not with the same enthusiasm. But I went through the motions … He didn’t complain even though I mostly masturbated him with perhaps only a quarter of his length in my mouth. I didn’t fondle or lick his balls (other extremities) as he had done mine. It was simply a case of he didn’t ask and I didn’t volunteer.
It seemed to go on forever and my jaw was beginning to ache. At one point I thought he had fallen asleep, only to have him hold my head and force it back down the length of his sword. Throughout it all, I found the metallic and salty taste of his meaty manhood not at all unpleasant.
I hoped that the man would give me fair warning because I was sure I wouldn’t be expected to take his semen in my mouth as he did mine. The thought made me nauseous, but it really should have been the least of my concerns because, whether I knew it or not, my sexual lesson had only just begun!
After one final lunge into my mouth, he pulled out and rolled me over onto my chest and into a fetal position. I felt his tongue on my rectum but had no idea why he was doing that disgusting act. After the initial shock wore off, the sensation amazed me.
Again, he spoke in a soft, reassuring tone causing me to relax and enjoy the bewilderment of delight that area had to offer but, at the same time, hoping that the act wasn’t another lesson to be reciprocated.
He secured me with one arm under my hips; I felt what had to be his cock sliding along my crack before it found its mark.
Oblivious to his intentions, he rose up and slammed his hard cock into me. I screamed out in agonizing pain something never felt before even when I broke my arm at ten years old. That pain was nowhere near as excruciating as the pain associated with his turning my boy pucker into a boy pussy. I began to cry and wail. I begged him to stop and even offered to suck him much better. I somehow felt that his ramming his baton up my ass must have been my punishment for not performing oral sex to his expectations. My pleas, however, accomplished nothing. He was both persistent and relentless in forcing his big, thick cock deeper into my new boy pussy while holding my hips in a vice-like grip.
I expected my uncle and aunt, upon hearing my screams, would come to investigate and rescue me … But, the man certainly wasn’t concerned about that given he never once tried to muffle me into silence. I heard my cousin scream out my name but no rescue attempt ensued. I was mortified when it occurred to me that my relatives had prior knowledge of what was going to happen or, at the very least, suspected as much. I was the sacrificial lamb being led to the slaughter in order to protect Beth’s virginity.
My attempts to wiggle free by using my hands to grasp the mattress and pulling myself ahead were thwarted when he laid his heavy body on top of mine. The pain inside me sharpened with every inch slowly slithering into my bowels. I submitted to defeat and buried my face in a pillow sobbing and letting him take me uncontested.
I don’t know where the pain went but I do know that only numbness was felt after a short while. Perhaps I even passed out for a brief time. The iron headboard banged the wall and the bed springs creaked loudly until suddenly he screamed out and collapsed along the length of my body panting in deep breaths. I surmised that it was over when I could actually feel his erection deflating inside me. He was soon asleep and snoring. Fortunately, I managed to slide out from under his crushing weight but was trapped and pressed between the wall and his large frame. I lay there and did not move a muscle, feeling both confused and betrayed by my caregivers. Exhausted, I thankfully fell asleep before too long.
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