My Father the Czar
Copyright 1998
Library of Congress number: 98-96138
by AUTHOR22@aol.com
All rights reserved
Chapter Fifteen
It was with a spirit of light-hearted optimism and exuberant
enthusiasm that Russia and her Empire went to war. It would be
exciting; it would be good for business; and the boys would be home by
Christmas. They did not know that four years of death and destruction
lay ahead in a war revolutionized by high explosive shells, rapid-
firing machine guns, poison gas, mighty dreadnoughts, stealthy
submarines and airplanes. Nor did they know that it would destroy
virtually a whole generation of young men.
Germany, France and Russia already had elaborate war plans that they
proceeded to put into effect - all failed. The object of the German
"Schlieffen Plan" was to strike quickly against France, destroy her
armies, and then turn against the more slowly mobilizing Russians on
the eastern flank. The plan almost succeeded. Massive German armies
struck through Belgium, battered the fortified cities of Lige and
Namur, and wheeled southward into France. At Mons, a small British
Expeditionary Force made a determined stand; but the task was
impossible and the "Old Contemptibles" were forced to retreat. Then
the German advance weakened and the French and British counter-
attacked. In the First Battle of the Marne, the invasion was checked
and the Germans were driven back to a line along the Aisne River. The
Schlieffen Plan had failed.
The French "Plan XVII" also failed as French drives against Germany in
Alsace and Lorraine were repulsed, with many casualties resulting from
these attempts.
On the eastern front the outcome was similar. At first the Russians,
under the command of the Czar's brother Mikhail, moved with unexpected
speed, throwing back the Austrians and advancing into Eastern Prussia;
but, Allied hopes were dashed as the Germans under von Hindenburg
disastrously defeated the Russian armies at Tannenberg and the
Masurian Lakes. By late autumn a military deadlock had been reached on
both the eastern and the western fronts.
Russia could no longer tell the real from the false because she had
become like a large lunatic asylum. Things looked normal enough, like
an asylum on open house day, but in fact the inmates were all mad.
Nowhere was this more obvious than in the capital, whose name had been
changed from St. Petersburg to the non-Germanic Petrograd. A wild-
eyed, red-headed poet by the name of Gippius re-christened it
Chertograd, "Devil-town," for the rich, city life was "gay with the
brilliance of a florist's window in winter."
The Russians bled because of the Germans; more even than their French
and British allies. People shut the fighting out of their minds,
"dancing a 'last tango' on the rim of trenches filled with forgotten
corpses."
"The heartrending sensuality of the tango," the novelist Alexis
Tolstoy wrote, "had become a death march for a city tormented by
sleepless nights, stupefied and deadened by wine, wealth, and
lovemaking without love."
Prohibition had been declared with the onset of war. Underpaid
officials were easily bribed to ignore it and even the pretense of
pouring vodka from a teapot had disappeared.
Officers overstaying their leave drank cocktails in the bar of the
Hotel de l'Europe whose lobbies were teeming with teenage prostitutes,
both male and female.
Piotr had become a constant "surprise" visitor to Adrian's quarters
during the midnight hours. On several occasions the cadet returned to
his barracks without his lust being satisfied; Adrian had not been in
his room.
Before that eventful night with Rasputin, Adrian had been a regular
customer of The Embers; now his appearance was a rare one.
Iveren had noted the sailor's absence and suggested that Adrian bring
his "boyfriend" along. It was in the midst of one of those
"promptings" that the sailor asked if he could make use of Iveren's
mountain cabin. The response was a "Maybe, but I would like to know
the both of you a little better. Why don't you two join me for a
private party in my office. --Then we can discuss a rental fee."
Of course Adrian knew what the fee was to be.
Even though the man was overweight, and far from sexually attractive,
the sailor knew from previous experience that the man's lips were
talented. He smiled to himself as he imagined the contemplated weekend
orgy. But the bottom line was far into the future. Piotr would not be
a cadet forever and, with his connections to the Imperial Family, it
was most likely the cadet could become a powerful ally. So, despite
his lustful leanings, Adrian discussed these concerns with his host.
Finally a plan emerged. Adrian would bring Piotr for a late night
supper and they would see how it went. They would create just the
right environment... sensual, and seductive. If the cadet fell prey to
the game, then all the better; regardless, they would have the use of
the cabin.
The nightclubs of St. Petersburg were full of "heroes of the rear --
legal deserters." No stigma was attached to the "gray ticket men" who
had bought exemption from the front; most of them, through
politicians, for a few hundred rubles.
A British secret agent, Robert Bruce Lockhart, found his own conduct
"puerile and reprehensible." He drank too much with men for whom he
felt contempt. He was ashamed and unhappy, adrift with a senseless
ennui. The Embers had become his home. He had watched Iveren, hoping
to glean something of value, something that might make his present
assignment worthy of his presence. Despite the alcohol, his trained
ears picked up Iveren's discussion about Piotr. He wondered who the
cadet might be.
It wasn't until four in the morning, and two visits to Iveren's
office, that Adrian left The Embers. Lockhart had noted the two visits
and figured that the sailor's chlen was most likely the bait. He
chuckled to himself as he drunkenly put the idea of a worm on a hook
with his thought of the sailor's cock being bait. He wondered who was
doing what to whom. He hoped the sailor didn't have to suck the fat
man's dick.
Lockhart was not a stranger to male-to-male sex. He had been subjected
to the English all-boys schools for most of his early life. His
training as a secret agent had encompassed the field of human
sexuality ... all types.
After Adrian's second return from Iveren's office, Lockhart figured
the boy would probably be leaving. His eyes and ears were now on the
alert. He ordered a triple vodka which he appeared to consume in large
swallows. In fact most of it was then expelled into his sleeve. He
then contrived to lurch toward the exit colliding with the sailor as
they both attempted to pass through the doorway. In a faked show of
intoxication the agent bowed an apology and then offered the sailor a
lift to the naval base in his taxi.
Spy fever was epidemic. It was the easiest explanation to account for
Russia's defeat. The head of the Okhrana was told by a government
minister, in all earnest, that two aides-de-camp of the German Kaiser
had been seen strolling past the shops of the Nevsky Prospect without
a care in the world, "dressed as civilians with their coat collars
turned up."
Adrian's position in the office of Naval Operations exposed him to
matters of security. Everyone from the lowest messenger to the old man
himself had been indoctrinated in concerns about espionage; yet, on
this early morning, the sailor did not ask himself why this Englishmen
should offer him a ride. His only thought was that his host might want
to suck his chlen; he hoped not. After two thorough blowjobs from
Inveren, he probably couldn't get it up again tonight.
While Lockhart had many questions he would have liked to ask, he
settled for a little lighthearted chat. The questions could wait until
he and the sailor became "good friends".
He decided to pay a visit to the British Ambassador. He needed a
reason to visit the office of the Russian Chief of Naval Operations.
His appearance, in an official capacity, would increase Adrian's trust
of him. Nothing overt. Subtle.
What Lockhart did not know was that he was being observed, not by the
Okrahana, nor by naval security personnel, not even by agents of the
Czar. He was being observed by another civilian... Sasha Romkoski,
reporter for the Peterburgskie Wedomosti (St. Petersburg News).
+ + + + +
Shortly after Sasha had returned from his Black Sea assignment Sasha
had been approached by Roman Malinovsky, chief of "Pravda". He had
been offered a "second job" under a nom-de-plume byline. Being a good
reporter, he did not reject the offer, just delayed its acceptance.
All sources were good sources, he reasoned.
On several occasions he wondered what had happened to the kid he had
helped get laid in Portugal. Even though he felt he had not received
what was due him in that exchange, he racked it up to something which
he could call 'a debt owed him to be collected in the future'.
Of course Sasha knew the boy was now a cadet at the Naval Academy and
presumed that there was now little or no public interest in him.
He had heard about the incident with Rasputin at The Embers. He did
not know of either Tatiana or Piotrs' involvement in it.
He was aware of, but had suppressed, his feelings of guilt stemming
from his work. There could be little doubt that all of the newspapers,
including his own Wedomosti, were adding to the political turmoil;
but, he reasoned, that was the purpose of a newspaper -- not to stir
things up, but to accurately report "what was" rather than what
someone might "like things to be".
He should have recognized, but did not, that it was the passionate
nature of the average Russian peasant which needed to be taken into
consideration. Passion and organization are not soul mates.
Again Malinovsky contacted Sasha with a more tempting offer: Renew his
acquaintance with Piotr, look into the happenings at The Embers and
simply provide accurate, non-political information. Even though the
reporter again declined the offer, it did peak his curiosity.
Thus, it came to pass at a time when Adrian's patronage of The Embers
was becoming less frequent, the establishment had gained two new
regular customers: British Secret Agent Robert Bruce Lockhart and
Sasha Romkoski, Reporter for the Peterburgskie Wedomosti (St.
Petersburg News).
One other fact should also be stressed: Iveren was not a stupid man.
+ + + + +
NOVEMBER 1914
Alexander Palace
by Alex-T
the Tsarevich
+ + + + +
An American company, with manufacturing facilities in Switzerland,
sent me a new movie projector. The new one uses an optical system that
takes the flicker out of the pictures.
Papa was quite pleased. Someone had sent us reels of film from France,
which showed some bloody battles on the French side of the war front
in Belgium.
Catherine/Alex-P doesn't seem to have much interest in this new
project, but when I told him that there might be some naked ladies in
the French footage, his ears perked up and he volunteered to help.
The equipment came boxed in eight wooden crates and the assembly
instructions are in German.
My movie theater is on the second floor and just beyond the servant's
quarters. The projector is at the back of the room and makes a lot of
noise. I was assured that the new one would be quieter; it had to be,
as there was a sound system included with it.
Mama is fluent in German so I showed her the instructions that had
been packed with the projector. After looking at it for quite a while
she suggested that I speak with Mr. Gibbs, our English tutor, his
German is pretty good and, on a technical level, superior to hers.
We had unpacked all of the boxes and looked at the illustrations in
the books. I was curious how they were going to add sound. It turned
out to be pretty simple. What they had done was add two phonographs.
The idea was that there would be records supplied with the reels of
film. The beginning of a reel would have a prompt mark on one
particular frame. When the projectionist saw the mark he was to push a
lever which played one of the records. It was not a very good system
because it would take 5 records to provide sound for each reel of
film.
The Edison Company had sent a reel filmed in New York. It was a
fifteen-minute "Can-Can" dance. Consecutive records are to be placed
on each of the two phonographs.
I played one of the records on the phonograph in our playroom. It was
lively and, getting into the spirit of the music, Alex-P threw up her
skirts and showed her panties. Anastasia thought it was funny, but
Olga did not.
The old projector had used an oil lamp as its light source --with
mirrors which collected the light, concentrating it into the optical
system. Because the light source was so weak, the only time we could
use it was after dark.
The new projector is all electrical. The light source is produced by
arcing current between two rods made of carbon. You have to stick the
tips of the two rods together and then slowly back them apart so that
they create a bright arc. I was quite surprised when we finally got it
working. The light was so bright that you could see the picture even
during the day.
Papa attended our first "test". We ran the Can-Can reel. Catherine was
supposed to start the record players while I worked the projector. He
got so interested in what was happening on the screen that he kept
missing the sound cues. Finally Papa came back to see how the system
worked and to find out why the sound was out of beat with the picture.
He's not very good with mechanical things, so his final critique was
that sound wasn't practical; it was just another gadget which the
Americans had invented.
A few days later papa and an officer from the army brought several
reels of film. The pictures were the ones taken in Belgium. I think we
were all disappointed. The lighting was not good and the movie camera
must have been hidden in bushes a long way away from the actual
fighting. You could hardly see anything; just puffs of smoke and a few
people in the distance either falling down or jumping into holes in
the ground.
A couple of nights later, after I had crawled into Catherine's bed, we
talked about how much better the Can-Can reel was. Then Catherine said
something that started me to thinking. What he said was: "I wished we
had a movie of that night we fucked those two gypsy girls." He asked
me if I could get a movie camera. Maybe we could go back to Gdov and
film Yaslov fucking his two girls.
Of course that idea started us fantasizing about making a really good
movie. Maybe we could take turns with the girls.
I asked Papa about getting a movie camera and he said that, since
Christmas was coming, he would write to the camera company in
Switzerland.
+ + + + +
A brilliant career lay before Paul Benckendorff, nephew of the
proprietor of The Embers. He had everything necessary to attain it: an
admirable education, high honors when he had graduated in law from St.
Petersburg University, and connections within the highest society
through his prosperous uncle Iveren.
The young man was the apple of his uncle's eye. The property Adrian
wanted to use as a weekend hide-a-way with Piotr had been left to Paul
by his recently deceased father along with a plot of water front land
in Gdov.
He was receiving a good rental income from the Gdov property, but the
mountain cabin was used only for recreation. His uncle made use of the
cabin a few times each year; he would have liked to use it much more
often but The Embers kept him occupied.
The Okhrana had developed a growing interest in Iveren because of the
unique position The Embers held among the city's populace. They had
attempted to recruit him, but he declined citing that there were only
24 hours in a day. His value to the Okhrana would be lessened by his
taking on any additional tasks; but Iveren suggested that his nephew
Paul would be of far greater value to them.
The young man had eagerly accepted the offer. It not only gave him
additional funds, but it made him feel important.
It was in mid-December that Iveren finally gave Adrian permission to
use the cabin. Unfortunately, Iveren had failed to mention this fact
to Paul.
In Germany, the emperor was commander in chief of all the armed
forces. His secretary of state for the navy, Grand Admiral Alfred von
Tirpitz, had directed the expansion and modernization of the German
fleet. Most of the ships of the German navy were organized within the
High Seas Fleet, commanded by Admiral Friedrich von Ingenohl. The
fleet was based primarily at Wilhelmshaven on the North Sea and at
Kiel on the Baltic.
Wilhelmshaven and the other German ports on the North Sea were well
protected by the heavily fortified island of Heligoland and a series
of minefields. Behind that screen, German ships could seek even
greater security by passing through the Kiel Canal into the secure
waters of the Baltic Sea.
Although the German navy could not match the numerical strength of the
British fleet, German ships were more modern and in some respects
tougher; more powerful and more maneuverable than Britain's.
Nonetheless, when the Great War broke out, the British Royal Navy
controlled the seas with 28 dreadnoughts and battle cruisers to
Germany's 18.
News of a British victory off the Falkland Isles had spread through
the admiralty. Three German Cruisers had been sunk. Quite suddenly a
holiday spirit permeated the Russian naval command.
It was already noon on Friday. The snow had been coming down for
hours. The streets of the city were adrift with the white stuff. Kids
delighted in racing down the streets on their sleds.
Not wanting to be seen leaving the naval base together, Piotr and
Adrian had agreed to meet at the railway station. They would each
purchase their own tickets and then board the north bound train.
Once on board, they would change into civilian clothes and pack away
their uniforms. As soon as the train cleared the city limits, the two
sailors would become civilians: civilians and lovers.
+ + + + +
Friday afternoon had turned miserable. The sun had disappeared by mid-
afternoon. The Embers had become crowded. Robert Bruce Lockhart and
Sasha Romkoski were sitting side by side at adjacent tables in the
bar.
Over the course of the last six weeks the two had become acquainted.
They were not friends. The only thing they had in common was that they
were both snoops; they made their living by ferreting out information.
Agent Lockhart, though a very smooth individual, was not as overtly
curious as was the reporter Romkoski, but then that was to be
expected. Sasha's profession was enhanced by others knowing what work
he did while Lockhart's would have been endangered.
They would have been equally astonished if they had known of their
mutual interest in one Cadet Piotr Veliky.
Their conversation on this Friday afternoon had started when Lockhart
had asked for a match to light his cigarette. Before the hour was half
over they were buying each other drinks. After Sasha returned from a
trip to the toilet he moved his glass to Lockhart's table.
Iveren, who knew exactly what both of his customers did for a living,
chuckled to himself as he thought about these two spies
surreptitiously spying on each other.
Much later in the evening Iveren's nephew came into the establishment
to borrow some money. The proprietor diverted the boy's intentions by
sharing his knowledge of the two occupants of "that table in the
corner".
Paul poured three drinks, put them on a tray, and carried them to the
Lockhart table. "Gentlemen, I am Iveren's nephew Paul. May I offer you
a drink on the house?"
Sasha waved his hand for the intruder to join them. Paul immediately
launched into a conversation about the war, the weather, and the
quality of the drinks served at The Embers.
The three had gone through at least a half-dozen rounds before Paul
felt comfortable enough to let the other two recapture the
conversation. Lockhart asked Sasha what he had heard of the Falkland
incident; did he know which of the German cruisers had been sunk?
Before the reporter could answer Paul, interjected that it was
Britain's Rear-Admiral Sturdee who had commanded the battle. Both
looked surprised and asked where he had obtained his information.
Paul just smiled and asked if they would like another round. When he
returned to the table, he told them that the German Cruisers
Konigsberg and Emden had been sunk and that Admiral Spee, who had
commanded the engagement from the Dresden, had narrowly escaped.
Then Paul confided that he had heard the details from a sailor. His
motivation was one of the principal responsibilities of all members of
the Okhrana: stir things up. Nothing happens unless there is activity.
Now that he had their attention he thought he would add spice to the
mixture. "I have a cabin fifty miles north of here, near the Finnish
border. Many St. Petersburg politicians own weekend cabins in that
area. It is well known for its fishing. Would you be interested in
joining me there sometime before the weather gets too cold?"
Neither man was naive enough to presume the invitation was made in the
name of being friendly, but both were curious about this stranger and
his invitation. They looked each other in the eye and nodded ever so
slightly. It was Lockhart who replied: "I don't know about Sasha, but
I haven't had a chance to do much fishing since I came to Russia."
Sasha asked: "How soon can we go? My editor keeps me on a short leash,
but I have this weekend free. Would that be too soon for you?"
Paul looked quite pleased, then added: "Well then, why don't we meet
at the train station around eight o'clock tomorrow morning?"
Sasha said: "Well now, if you are providing the cabin, the least I can
do is to provide the transportation. I can use one of the Wedomosti
automobiles. If that's agreeable, just meet me at the newspaper at
eight."
+ + + + +
Saturday morning started quite early for Piotr. Adrian had almost
begged him to spend the night in the senior man's private quarters;
nevertheless, the Cadet had successfully declined the invitation
claiming that he needed to clean his uniform for the following week.
Normally that chore was reserved for the weekends.
It was barely six in the morning when Piotr picked up his single
overnight bag and headed for the trolley that would take him to the
railway station. He had not taken the time to eat breakfast; he would
do that after he purchased his ticket.
He had been standing on the sidewalk for just a few minutes when the
horse drawn vehicle rounded the corner.
The trolley did not stop, but slowed enough so that a passenger could
grab hold of a handle and swing himself on board. At the next pickup
point the driver brought the vehicle to a complete stop, thus
permitting two older women to board. He looked towards the front
wondering when Adrian would leave the base. Their train was scheduled
to leave the station at eight.
Meanwhile, Adrian was still sipping a cup of coffee in the staff
dining room. While munching on a piece of toast he contemplated the
pleasures that lay ahead for him. The sky had continued to be cloudy
with still more snow limiting the distance one could see. If he was
very lucky the weather would remain inclement. His vision was that of
a fireplace with just him and the cadet laying in each other's arms.
Even though he had run his fingers through Piotr's pubic hair many
times in the past few months it still delighted him while, at the same
time, always bringing Piotr to full erection.
Adrian's own erection roused him from his fantasies as the voice of
his motor pool friend penetrated his thoughts: "You'd better get that
sorry ass of yours in gear if we are to get you to the railway station
before eight."
Quickly he put his hand under the table and adjusted himself so that
his ridged chlen was hidden from sight.
Doing the trip by motorcar placed Adrian onboard the eight o'clock
northbound train while his mate was just walking into the station.
There was no one in line at the ticket counter. Piotr surmised that it
must be due to the early hour and the snow.
Both naval men had packed lightly and carried most of their belongings
in borrowed luggage.
Both men were looking forward to the next few days but for totally
different reasons.
For Piotr the past several weeks had been hectic. More and more of his
classmates were disappearing into the war effort. During the past
months he had purposely avoided any further involvement with the
Imperial Family. Now, he wondered if that had been a mistake.
Another thing the young cadet had learned, through his experience with
Adrian was that the Tsarevich was equally hot for his body... just not
as experienced in the games of love.
Despite Iveren's promises, it had taken a good deal of direct effort
to make this weekend come true. Adrian had given into the fat man's
demands far too many times. Finally, he had brought the man to the
very brink of climax, artfully prolonging it until Iveren had
literally begged for release. Only after extracting an iron-clad
promise did he let the big man slip over the edge.
Adrian was fully aware that his emotional relationship with his
protege' was getting dangerously close to a love affair. But this
weekend was prompted by nothing more than out-and-out lust. Each time
he had prostituted himself at The Embers, he had laid another brick in
his construction of this weekend. To put it bluntly, he wanted to fuck
Piotr. He wanted to bring the young sailor to the very edge, just as
he had done with Iveren, and he wanted to hear Piotr beg for release.
+ + + + +
While the two sailors were playing the charade of 'strangers meeting
on a train', Sasha, Lockhart and Paul Benckendorff were inspecting the
open-air touring car that was to be their transportation north. No one
had asked the obvious question: "Who would drive?" As it turned out,
only Lockhart had ever driven a car.
Benckendorff, in the role of supervisor, directed the starting of the
vehicle by telling Sasha to find the crank. Once found under the back
seat, the reporter put the device into its socket just under the front
of the engine. "Put your foot on the brake. Better push the choke all
the way down."
"OK! OK, already. Since when did you become an expert? I've got the
clutch in. Give her a crank." said Lockhart.
Sasha pulled up on the crank and the engine coughed. He disengaged the
crank and re-inserted the handle for a better upward pull. Instantly,
the engine caught and then settled into a smooth roar as the driver
readjusted the choke and throttle.
Benckendorff had seated himself next to Lockhart so Sasha jumped into
the back seat. Despite the cold morning air, he was perspiring. The
two up front drew the collars of their fur coats up around their necks
while the reporter opened his and mopped his brow.
The snow continued to fall as the open vehicle passed along the
streets out of the city. A few people were about, but mostly the
populace was enjoying the cozy comfort of their homes.
Eventually, the distance between homes increased until the terrain had
become rural. There was little activity. It seemed that even the farm
animals had chosen the warmth of their barns.
Fifteen minutes later they passed the first of numerous men,
apparently wounded soldiers, on foot heading northward. They wore only
rags for clothes. They hobbled northward on crutches or limped
alongside of the road, attempting to avoid the ever-increasing banks
of snow. The men looked old, far too old for their age. The
expressions on their faces were an odd mixture of relief and defeat.
Then came others, walking south. These were younger men. Boys really.
Youths who were still passing through puberty. Their vitality
broadcast the adventure that lay ahead of them. These men were soon to
be fighting, and dieing, to defend their country.
Sasha began scribbling notes in his ever-present note pad.
"There is a sort of sickness in the soul. Above Russia's deathbed
hover crows, a raucous, swirling scum."
Only Sasha appeared to be affected by the tableau of tragedy. Lockhart
and Benckendorff were chatting away about the forthcoming weekend.
+ + + + +
Adrian had already changed into his civilian clothes when Piotr,
dressed in his uniform entered the railroad car.
The civilian clothing did little to enhance the appearance of the
older man, while Piotr's tailor made uniform hugged his body like a
dancer's leotard. Every curve and crevice of his buttocks was clearly
as visible as though he was wearing nothing. Even though he had tucked
his chlen between his legs, it too left little to the imagination.
Piotr's cap was pushed back on his head and he wore a brilliant smile.
When he spotted Adrian he headed for a seat just across the aisle.
A stranger observing the two would not have guessed that they were
friends, but the expression upon Adrian's face made it obvious that
his interest was more than casual. At least for the moment, the cadet
felt he was in control. Then it happened. His chlen began to stretch.
The more it stretched, the tighter the binding became; the tighter the
binding, the better it felt and the more it stretched for attention.
Adrian, observing his friends 'discomfort' struggled to keep from
laughing as Piotr attempted to readjust himself. Finally, in
desperation, Piotr removed the cap from his head and covered his
erection. Then, grabbing his suitcase, he headed for the lavatory.
Moments later he returned wearing baggy brown trousers, a loose
fitting wool jumper and again resumed his seat across the aisle from
Adrian.
The two sat silently for a few minutes; then, as though they were
strangers, they engaged in conversation which ended when Adrian asked:
"Why don't you sit over here and we can play a game of cards?"
+ + + + +
The Wedomosti's touring car was still an hour away when the train made
its momentary stop at Vyborg to discharge Adrian and Piotr. The
village was a small one. Like St. Petersburg, this little town was
adrift in banks of snow. Unlike St. Petersburg, there was no one to
clear the roads.
According to the instructions that Iveren had given them, they needed
to rent a buggy to take them the next four miles to the cabin. When
they entered the livery stables they found only one horse available
and no buggies or wagons. The old woman who attended to the rental
assured them that the animal was strong and sturdy and could easily
transport the two of them that short distance.
Piotr, being a farm boy, felt comfortable astride the large white
animal. Again he felt "in charge" as he beckoned his friend to ride
behind him; however, Adrian was not a horsemen. He did not understand
the principle of posting. Within minutes Adrian had his arms around
Piotr's waist. His hands overlapped and he held himself tightly
against the cadet's back.
The bouncing and the closeness of his friend caused Piotr's chlen to
harden. Simultaneously, Adrian let his hands slip lower until he
grasped Piotr's rod. By the time they reached their destination Adrian
was in charge.
The cabin was not large. It contained only three rooms: Living Room-
Kitchen, Bedroom, and bath. The central feature of the first room was
the huge fireplace. Even though the cabin was as cold as the outside,
or maybe because of it, they headed directly to the bedroom.
Before Adrian had removed his shoes, Piotr was laying naked in the
center of the bed. His tousled hair contrasted with the pastel color
of the pillow. His chlen towered from amidst a pubic forest. "Come on
Adrian. Junior has been waiting for your attention for far too long."
He grasped the shaft by the base, waving it. "Look it's already
drooling for your attention."
The older man smiled to himself, thinking: "Baby, it's your ass I'm
going to get before this weekend is over."
Finally, Adrian was as naked and as aroused as was his bed mate. He
laid down upon the bed. Their faces were just inches from one another.
He leaned over and lightly ran his tongue along Piotr's neck. Both of
their penises responded with a lurch. Piotr placed his hand on the top
of Adrian's head; a light pressure sent a message of direction.
Control was the name of the game. Piotr was rapidly loosing his.
Adrian was not. Nevertheless, the older man's breath kissed its way
down to the towering tool. Adrian's focus shifted to the pubic forest.
Each hair was magnified by his attention. Just beyond, and out of
focus, was the base of the shaft. The odor of sex now filled both of
their nostrils. Adrian's tongue lashed out for the captivating ooze,
then licked it up. Piotr's shaft responded with a mighty lurch and his
hand pushed Adrian's head all the way down until he could feel the hot
warmth of breath and throat.
The unmistakable sound of the front door of the cabin being opened
shocked both of the naval men into action. Adrian grabbed his clothes
and ran for the bathroom, followed quickly by Piotr.
From behind the latched bathroom door they heard: "Paul, it looks like
you already have guests."
Benckendorff entered the bedroom noting the mussed condition of the
bed then, after trying to open the bathroom door, demanded: "Who is in
there? Who are you and what are you doing in my cabin?"
Adrian replied, "Iveren Benckendorff said we could use the place over
this weekend. Who are you?"
Paul's voice receded while addressing the others. "It looks like my
uncle told someone they could use the place. And of course he forgot
to tell me."
Piotr and Adrian had dressed and then somewhat timidly entered the
Living Room.
Sasha was astonished to see Piotr.
Lockhart was astonished to see Adrian.
Paul Beckendorff was pleased to see the pot being stirred.
It was Lockhart who first guessed the truth. He knew the kind of
person that Adrian was. He had overheard the discussions about Piotr
and thus, he presumed that the other fellow was the cadet. It was easy
to see why the sailor lusted after the cadet.
Sasha broke down the barrier of silence. "Veliky! It is nice to see
you again. How are you doing? You are still in the Naval Academy are
you not?"
Piotr blushed when he saw the reporter. His conscience betrayed his
guilt. He was certain that he had been caught. Nevertheless, he
responded. "Sasha, I have often wondered what happened to you. Yes,
I'm still at the Academy... although I may soon be the only one. My
class is down to less than half of what it was when I first enrolled."
Sasha turned to Lockhart. "Bruce you won't believe this, but this
fellow actually started this war. If he hadn't wanted to get laid so
badly, if he hadn't wanted so desperately to loose his virginity, the
Great War would not have started."
Lockhart looked confused, but it was Benckendorff who asked for the
entire story.
At the end of the tale Lockhart and Benckendorff looked at each other
and simultaneously said "Helium. Helium?" And everyone in the room,
with the exception of Piotr broke into hysterical fits of laughter.
It was then that Adrian misread the situation. Everyone there had some
association with The Embers and The Embers was well known for its
tolerance of deviant behavior. He presumed that everyone there was
either homosexual or bi-sexual or tolerant of those that were. He
moved closer to Piotr, put his arm around the boy's waist and hugged
him. "Well, we were the first here, so we've got the bedroom. Right?"
Piotr turned red and jerked away from Adrian. "I think not! The cabin
is Benckendorff's. I'd rather sleep in front of the fireplace."
Paul stepped into the breach bridging it: "We will worry about who
sleeps where when the time comes. In the meantime let's walk down to
the lake and see if it is fishable. If not, then we have an ample
supply of Vodka to keep us entertained and we may all end up sleeping
in front of the fireplace."
Adrian's previous ill-timed wish had been granted. The weather was not
suitable for fishing. The second part of his wish; however, was not
granted. He was not to be alone with his Piotr.
Sasha and Piotr were constantly engaged in conversation; sharing the
adventures of the Standart.
Bruce Lockhart used this opportunity to improve his relationship with
Adrian. They discussed many things, but Lockhart went to extremes to
stay away from military subjects.
Paul Benckendorff played the disinterested host, implementing and
furthering the wishes of his guests.
All five of the men lay on the floor in front of the fireplace.
They had emptied their fourth bottle of Vodka and everyone was feeling
pleasantly in harmony; but it wasn't until late in the night when the
embers in the fireplace were dimming to a gentle red glow that Piotr
thought he saw Adrian lay his head in Lockhart's lap. It was not a
concealed move; yet, to the cadet it was a covert one.
The significance of Adrian's position did not escape Lockhart. The
Vodka, the warmth of the fireplace and the imagined images of Adrian
sucking on Piotr's petooshock had their effect. The lump in Lockhart's
crotch had increased and then taken shape. Adrian could feel the head
of Lockhart's chlen nudging his left ear. He moved his head slightly
and the rod pulsed. Lockhart moved his fingers through the sailor's
hair to increase the pressure against his tool.
As the last ember decayed into nothingness and the room descended into
darkness, Adrian turned on to his side. The warmth that radiated
against his lips was a mere layer of cloth away. Lockhart's thoughts
drifted back to his early days as a schoolboy. He slowly unbuttoned
his fly releasing his captive tool and yielded to his fantasies.
It was much later that night when Piotr felt Sasha shake his shoulder.
"Come on. No sense in the bed going to waste." He helped the cadet to
his feet and guided him out of the living room. In the dim shadows he
could see that Adrian had moved closer to the fireplace while Lockhart
had drawn his fur coat tightly around himself.
Still half-asleep, Piotr stripped down to his underwear and slipped
beneath the blankets. Sasha wrapped himself in his fur coat and laid
on top of the bed.
It was still early in the morning when Piotr again felt himself being
awakened. "I've had enough sleep. Are you up to a hike down to the
lake?"
Quietly, they crept out of the bedroom and the cabin and headed down
the well-marked trail.
"So, how are you doing at the academy? Are they keeping yourself
busy?"
Piotr looked toward the lake, stretched a bit and then replied:
"Pretty well, I guess. But my class is less than half the size it
should be --and the senior class is almost non-existent. They've put
in a new policy for early graduation for those with a B average or
above. In the lower classes they are using grade averages to weed
students out. --Out and into the navy as enlisted men."
Sasha, paused for a moment, then asked: "Your friend Adrian: He's in
the office of the Chief of Naval Operations?"
Piotr nodded his head "Yes".
"Does CNOP have anything to do with drafting from the academy?"
Piotr nodded 'yes' again, then added: "The draft list originates at
CNOP, and is passed down to the Academy."
Sasha had never been known for his diplomacy, he asked: "And is that
the reason you are with Adrian? Can he keep you off of the list?"
Piotr's face started to turn red. He didn't know how to answer the
question. The reporter had been right on target. He realized there was
no point in denying the obvious. "I guess that makes me a whore
doesn't it?"
Sasha chuckled: "In one way or another we all are whores. We trade
parts of ourselves to attain goals. Sometimes it's just our time,
other times it's our souls. Trading your chlen isn't much different
than accepting money in exchange for working.
"I'd be careful though. Adrian's ability to help you is because of the
work he does for CNOP. He's only an enlisted man. If he's transferred
to another job, then you no longer have a protector.
"Have you been staying in touch with the Imperial Family?"
Piotr shook his head "No." Then added, "I wanted to become a naval
officer on my own. At first some of my class-mates tried to make me
believe that only aristocrats should be naval officers and that I was
there only because of Tatiana. Studying has taken most of my free time
and, of course, there have been occasional weekends with Adrian."
Again Piotr was silent as they made their way along the pathway. He
continued: "I think I may have made a mistake. The Tsarevich has
always treated me with great regard and so has Tatiana."
Sasha said: "Well there is nothing wrong with keeping both
relationships going. If nothing else, you might write a short note to
the Czarina, explaining how busy you have been, and apologize for your
inability to stay in contact with them. Then at the end ask her to
give your fondest regards to Aleksey and Tatiana."
The surface of the lake looked like a silver platter ringed in green
pine trees. The sky had turned bright with a few billowy clouds
drifting above. There were a few children dressed in brightly colored
sweaters doing figure-eights on ice skates.
The two men looked toward the children and felt the warmth of
camaraderie that comes from simply liking one another.
As they walked back toward the cabin Sasha said: "You know the
Romanov's are going through a rough period. If anything goes wrong
anywhere in the world it is blamed on Nicholas. There are more
political factions vying for power than anyone can imagine ... and all
at the expense of the Imperial Family.
"The war has not gone well. A good number of our soldiers came from
our farms. Now there is not enough food for everyone. Many people are
without jobs. To add to the misery, our war wounded are simply 'going
home' and not being taken care of.
"The suicide rate has tripled, when in other countries at war it has
fallen. Two out of three perpetrators are under twenty-eight.
Marriages collapse as elderly men discard their wives and flaunt their
younger successors in the eyes of society.
"Have you observed that no one understands the story of Anna Karenina
nowadays? Today, Anna would immediately have divorced her husband and
married Vronsky and there the story would have ended."
As they approached the cabin Paul Benckendorff waved at them while he
strapped a suitcase to the back of the touring car. "This weekend
hasn't been much for fishing... Well that sort of thing happens from
time to time."
Then addressing Piotr he said, "Adrian asked if you two could travel
back with us. There's plenty of room as long as we strap your cases to
the back.
"Bruce is making breakfast, so go in and have some, then afterward we
might just as well head back to St. Petersburg."
+ + + + +
March 1915
Petrograd (St. Petersburg)
Russia
+ + + + +
For the past week the Czarina and her children had been living in the
Winter Palace so as to be close to her husband.
Olga found the city more interesting than rural Tsarskoye Selo.
However Aleksey missed his toys, particularly his movie projector and
the photographic dark room he had so painstakingly constructed in a
basement storage room of the Alexander Palace.
Dinner had been delayed by an hour. Their father was still at army
headquarters discussing the situation in Prussia. It was nearly eight
o'clock when the Czar finally shed his official responsibilities and
took his place at the head of the table in the family dining room.
The Czarina, sitting at the opposite end of the table, spoke first: "I
have received a most delightful letter from young Piotr. Even though
it is addressed to me, I suspect it is meant for both Tatiana and
Aleksey."
A serving girl entered the room and as she proceeded to ladle out soup
the Czarina continued: "Your Imperial Highness: First let me thank you
for the many kindnesses you showed me while I was on the Standart.
Second, I must apologize for not writing to you before. The academy
has dominated my life; there is little time for anything else. But it
is a good life, especially for someone who is not an aristocrat.
"The war has taken its toll on the school, a great number of the
senior students have seen early graduation to become officers in the
fleet. For the rest of us, it is a constant battle to keep our grades
up else we find ourselves drafted as enlisted men back to the fleet.
"Nevertheless my hard work has paid off and I remain at the top of my
class.
"At the moment we are studying military tactics, comparing recent sea
battles between the Germans and the English. One of our instructors
made the observation that it appears that luck is more responsible for
the English victory in the Falkin Isle's than any other factor.
Neither side had shown any ingenuity. The Germans had relied on the
superior quality of their ships, while the English had relied on their
numbers.
"Anyway, I digress. I simply wanted you and your family to know that
your past kindness and efforts on my behalf have not gone without my
appreciation.
"Please give my fondest regards to your children, especially Aleksey
and Tatiana.
"I remain forever in your debt. Your humble servant, Pitor Veliky."
Nicholas had burned his tongue with the soup and sat back somewhat
disgruntled. "Veliky! My god is he still in St. Petersburg? I thought
the naval academy would have made short shrift of him."
Tatiana, taking no notice of her father's attitude, said: "Oh Papa,
can we have him to dinner."
Taking his spoon back in hand, he attempted another mouthfull of the
broth while mumbling, "It's war time you know... we haven't time for
such frivolity. Besides the boy just said he is inundated with his
studies.
"Aleksey, we have not been doing well in our efforts on the Prussian
front. I am quite disappointed in your uncle, Mikhail. For more than a
year he has been in my ear about how good a military leader he would
be. There have been reports from the front that the most effective
leaders have been mere boys; early graduates from the military
academy.
"I am arranging a trip to the front within a few weeks to see first
hand what's going on. I'd like for you to accompany me."
"But Nicholas," The Czarina injected, "Would that not be dangerous?"
The Tsarevich managed a smile and a nod of the head in response to a
kick in the leg from Alex-P/Catherine.
Later that night the two boys developed a plan. If Alex-P joined the
Czar on the trip to Prussia, that would allow Alex-T to do something
else... just as long as he wasn't with the family.
At first it was just speculation... then the idea developed, Alex-T
disguised as one of the twins would return to Gdov and spend the week
at Camp Sunshine with Yaslov. Hopefully he could begin to plan his
movie.
Actually the elapsed time was only ten days, not two weeks.
Alex-P and Alex-T had changed places a week before the Czar's
departure for Prussia. Then the two boys had faked a telegram from
Rasputin giving Catherine permission to visit Gdov. Catherine would be
away from the palace while Alex-P as the Tsarevich would be at the
front.
Early on the day of their departure Catherine was taken into town to
board the train southwest to Camp Sunshine. Four hours later the Czar,
accompanied by his son, boarded the Imperial Train for its four-
hundred-mile trip west to Gizycko. At five in the afternoon, at the
prompting of her daughter, the Czarina sent a note to the Naval
Academy inviting cadet Piotr Veliky to lunch on Saturday.
The messenger delivered the invitation to a guard at the office of the
Chief of Naval Operations, who in turn telephoned CNOP's secretary.
Adrian swore to himself as he read the short note from the Czarina. He
was not about to endanger his career by diverting the letter, so he
personally hand carried it to the cadet barracks where he left it with
the duty officer.
+ + + + +
March 1915
The Imperial Train
Russia
+ + + + +
Nicholas the second, Czar of all of the Russias, was seated at his
ornate desk at the back of the special car which was his home on
wheels.
He had been reading the daily report from the Okrahana. His response
to what he read were snorts of disgust and disbelief.
In response to these sounds, his son Aleksey asked him to share the
report with him.
Going back to the beginning of the document he read: "Work accidents
are commonplace. I, for one, never enter a factory without first
making the sign of the cross. Workers are prey to intestinal and lung
disease, and to speculators. Flour has doubled in price since the
start of the war, sugar has risen four times, aspirin fifty times. The
people feel that merchants and shopkeepers are building up huge
profits at the expense of the common citizen.
"An intercepted dispatch from the French ambassador reports that not a
day passes in the zone of the Russian armies when a Jew isn't hanged
on a trumped-up charge of spying. The Army is deporting Jews in scores
of thousands from the areas behind the front, resulting in these
nomads wandering over the snows, driven like cattle by platoons of
Cossacks, abandoned at the stations, camping in the open around the
towns and dying of hunger, weariness, and cold. The Army's response to
any criticism is that these people are hoarding food which the
soldiers need. Yet the obvious is overlooked. These Jews are starving.
I am certain the real motive is lust. Lust for the younger Jewish
girls, and lust for the property of the Jews. It is reported that
these people have hidden wealth amongst them. If that is true then the
question comes back to why are they starving?"
Alex-P interrupted Nicholas: "Father, could that be true? Certainly
Uncle Mikhail would not allow such a thing."
"I suspect your uncle is too full of himself to be aware of anything
beyond his sight." The monarch laid the report down on the desk, rose,
and said: "We will look into this matter once we have had a chance to
see what else is wrong; what else is preventing us from winning this
damnable war. We out-number our foes, yet victory seems to be slipping
from our grasp."
He looked at his son, pleased by what he saw. The boy was rapidly
becoming a man, a handsome adolescent. For just a moment he saw
himself at the same age, and wondered if the boy had yet discovered
the delights that lay beneath a woman's skirts. Almost as an after
thought he wondered what games Aleksey and Raspustin's niece might be
playing. He vowed to see that the boy was given more freedom to
experience life. He wanted his son to have more freedom than had he.
Sadly he recognized that those wishes were beyond the reach of even
the most powerful man in Russia. Leadership was a mantle cast upon him
by virtue of his birth. It weighed heavily upon his shoulders. And so
must it descend to Aleksey.
Nicholas sighed loudly and returned to his desk to read a report
written by Mikhail's aide, Major Andreas. The style was clearly not
that of his brother. He hoped that it had more substance and less
excuse.
"Our intelligence reports that General of the German South Army
Linsingen has been in a feud with the German high command and this
division in tactical views has allowed us to make headway against the
enemy forces; but, it appears that this hiatus is about to come to an
end. The Kaiser has interceded on behalf of Lisingen, so it is likely
that we may be up against a more formidable foe. We are taking
advantage of our occupation of the Masuria Lakes region to press
onward toward the Carpathians by sending an expeditionary force
south."
The Czar, while still holding the report, looked out of the window. It
seemed to him that the rain, which had been falling most of the day
was getting heavier.
He walked over to a map fastened to the wall, located Gizycho, then
traced a finger down to the Carpathian Mountains.
Again he sighed to himself, he wondered how many men were in the
expeditionary force.
+ + + + +
Camp Sunshine
Gdov
+ + + + +
This was really the first time that Aleksey (Alex-T) had ever been
alone on his own and it was somewhat frightening.
He had even wondered if he would have difficulty renting a carriage,
but, upon his arrival in Gdov, discovered that a taxi would not only
be more readily available, but also less expensive.
He had written ahead to Yars telling him of his intended visit. The
letter contained no return address, so it was with a high degree of
insecurity that he approached Camp Sunshines main gate.
The same old man was still at his post, but this time his arrival
appeared to be expected.
The gate was swung open as they turned off the road. The driver waved
at the guard and just continued down the path to the parking area.
He half expected to see the same hired hand when the driver pulled to
a stop. To his surprise Yaslov greeted him.
After paying the driver, he walked over to the watering trough and
asked, "So, I gather you received my letter?"
Yars laughed at him, pointing to his hair and commented: "Well, I see
you've returned as a blonde. You need to take your clothes off now. We
can stash them in your cabin. How long do you expect to be with us?"
The cab had disappeared around the bend and Alex-T began removing his
clothes, starting with his shoes and socks. He handed each item of
clothing to Yars who placed them inside of a pillowcase.
"I'd like to stay for at least two weeks. Are you still making it with
those two school chums of yours?"
"Ah ha. The real reason you came back now surfaces."
Alex-T's chlen betrayed him as he denied the accusation.
Yars laughed, then did a most unexpected thing. He flicked the head of
Alex's penis with his index finger. The painful impact caused the
organ to collapse. "You'd better get that under control before we go
into the compound."
Alex asked Yars if he had ever seen a motion picture. The boy had
heard about them in school but Gdov was too small to have a movie
theater, so the answer was 'no'.
Alex then told him that he had a friend who had a private movie
theater in his home. Yars couldn't imagine such a thing. "Who would
have a house large enough to contain a movie theater?"
Then Alex continued his tale: "Not only does he have a theater, he's
getting a movie camera. I helped him build a darkroom in his
basement."
Yar's father greeted Alex as they entered the compound. "Ah, young
Kokoroff did you come on your own? I expected to see your uncle and
your brother. Are they going to join us later?"
Alex explained that his uncle was on a trip to the Url Mountians and
would be gone for several weeks. Thus he and his brother were to stay
with friends in St. Petersburg. Peter had elected to stay in the city,
but he, Alex, had talked his uncle into allowing him to spend the time
at Camp Sunshine.
While the real Tsarevich was settling into a pleasant routine at the
seashore, his replica was watching the Czar pour over maps of the
Carpathian Mountains.
The Imperial train slowed to a stop and began loading both water and
fire wood for the engine.
Alex-P had been sitting in a chair, overlooking the small depot. Two
rather handsome girls were offering fruit and cakes to the railroad
crew. He asked: "Father could I have a few kopeks to buy some cakes?"
Nicholas shook his head, "It wouldn't be safe. You never know what the
revolutionaries are going to do next." Then he also looked out the
window. He smiled to himself, realizing it wasn't the food that his
son was interested in. He reached into his pocket, handed the boy
almost two rubles in change. "If I were a few years younger I'd
probably try to ... " he paused, then continued conveying a meaning
that went beyond his words. "I'd probably be interested in some of
that."
Alex blushed as he realized what the Czar was really saying. Then he
grinned and said: "We won't be here long enough to get anything else."
The boy hurried through the door while Nicholas wondered how Aleksey
would look bedding a girl.
Alex returned a few minutes later carrying a wicker basket containing
a variety of fruits.
Just as they were again getting underway a soldier entered, "Your
Imperial Highness, this message was just received." The man bowed,
then exited whence he had come.
"Hmmmm. This is interesting. Aleksey, it appears that Mikhail's forces
are moving south toward Slovakia."
Quite suddenly the car was submerged in darkness while the sound of
the engine beat mercilessly in their ears. Before they could find a
light switch the train emerged from the tunnel, then began a labored
ascent.
+ + + + +
On Wednesday Piotr's classes were devoted to the conduct of officers
when visiting a foreign port. He was the only one who had ever had any
experience at sea and thus his fellow students attempted to pry
nonexistent tales of seduction from him. By the time he was finished
with his last class, his libido had been put into high gear. As soon
as the trumpeter had blown "lights out", he had quietly made his way
across the base to the senior enlisted quarters.
He had knocked on Adrian's door, but there had been no response. As he
turned to leave, a man came down the hallway dressed only in his
undershorts and wearing a towel around his neck. He said: "I think
Adrian has gone into town. I saw him leave just before dinner."
Piotr thanked him, then the man added. "He must have a girl stashed
away. He's been out every night for the past week."
Now it was Friday and still no sign of Adrian.
It seemed that a damper had been put on their relationship and that
was bothering Piotr. That momentary tableau at the cabin when Adrian
had his head in Lockhart's lap kept flashing into his mind.
If anyone had accused him of being jealous he would have denied it.
Yet this turn in their relationship was irksome.
Even though he had yet to have dinner, he again walked over to
Adrian's quarters. Due to the early hour it was necessary for him to
go past the officer in charge of quarters. Before the man could
challenge him, he asked if Adrian was in. The man shook his head and
said: "All of the CNOP personnel are on alert this weekend. Passes
have been canceled. He's probably still at the Admiralty."
Piotr felt lonely. He did not want to spend the weekend by himself.
His thoughts turned to Sasha. As soon as he had returned to his
quarters he changed into the civilian clothes he had worn on their
weekend at the mountain cabin. Then he left the base.
He waited at the trolley stop. Even though he had been in The Embers
only that once, he had gathered from snippets of conversation that
Sasha frequented the establishment.
It took nearly an hour, two trolleys, and a short walk before he
arrived. The same uniformed doorman stood outside. The man knew most
of The Embers regular customers by sight, but he did not recognize
Piotr. Once the boy had passed through the entrance the doorman picked
up a telephone, pushed a button, then advised Iveren of the new
customer's arrival.
Iveren had been looking for a bill that needed to be paid and thus
delayed meeting his new guest.
Piotr turned right into the small room. It took a moment for his eyes
to adjust to the dim light, then he spotted Sasha, sitting alone, at a
corner table sipping a glass of red wine.
He walked directly to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
The reporter was surprised to see the cadet, but welcomed the company.
They had been sharing tales for most of the evening. Piotr wondered
why he had come to The Embers. Sasha's interest in him could not be
expected to result in an invitation to spend the night. The cadet was
about to bid his friend good-bye when Paul Benckendorff joined them,
and offered to buy a round.
After the three settled into a comfortable conversation, Paul
apologized for the mix up at the cabin, then added "The weather had
not been suitable for fishing anyway.
"Tomorrow I must take the train to Gdov. My wife's sister's daughter
has been visiting my cousin for almost a month. The sea shore is
pleasant this time of year, but I don't relish going alone."
Piotr asked: "How long does it take?"
"Just a few hours. But it's not just the railroad trip that I don't
like, it's that since my cousin Ernst died from typhoid, the place
hasn't seemed like much fun."
Sasha commented: "I haven't been to the sea shore since I was in
Yalta."
"Would you and Piotr care to join me? The water temperature should
make for pleasant bathing and the beaches are isolated enough for
sunning one's self in the all-together. In fact there is a nudist
beach within walking distance."
This was the answer to Piotr's loneliness. "Oh yes. I'd love to."
Sasha, however, declined: "I'm on the city desk this weekend. Sorry."
He noticed the smile dissolve from the cadet's face. "Paul, just
because I cannot join you is no reason that Piotr should not. I've
known him for well over a year and he is a most pleasant companion."
This was exactly what Paul had been hoping for. It was an opportunity
to learn more about the cadet and his connection with the Imperial
Family. The only problem would be his uncle. He understood Iveren's
interest in the boy and he did not want to make him envious. The only
solution would be to invite Iveren to join them.
"Well then it is settled. Meet me at the railway station tomorrow
morning at seven."
"Paul, I have a problem. If I return to the base I'm likely to be
given a duty assignment. I need a place to spend the night."
Suddenly Paul saw the complete answer to his problem; he would ask his
uncle to let Piotr sleep in his office.
Before midnight the bar had thinned out. Sasha had gone home. Paul was
about to do the same.
Piotr yawned a couple of times, then Iveren told the boy to come with
him to his office. Later, when he wanted to go to sleep he could just
go up stairs and make himself comfortable on the divan.
The cadet yawned again and said he thought he should do it now, else
he would not be up to the train trip on the morrow.
As the fat man closed the door to his office behind them he said: "I
wish I could go with you to Gdov, but alas, I cannot. The weekends are
our busiest period."
Together they lifted the edge of the couch and, as if by magic, it
turned into a bed. "Sometimes I sleep here when we have a busy day. I
doubt if I will have a chance to sleep in my own bed before Monday."
Piotr looked a little surprised. "Will you be sleeping here as well?"
"Probably not. We are in a lull right now, but soon the place will be
crowded again. I probably will not be able to go to bed before you
leave tomorrow."
Somewhat relieved Piotr began to remove his clothing. Iveren found an
excuse to leaf through papers on his desk. His chlen lengthened and
then tented his trousers as he watched the boy prepare for bed. Cute
buttocks, nice sized bulge, beautifully naked chest. He was sorely
tempted to offer the boy a back massage, but just then the buzzer
sounded on his desk. He lifted the telephone. The doorman informed him
that a party of six had arrived.
Iveren rose from his chair. Piotr was not surprised at the tented
trousers. In fact his own chlen had risen. He would have preferred
someone else to do the deed, but it seemed he was fated to take care
of the chore himself.
The room plunged into darkness as almost simultaneously the sound of
the light switch merged with that of the door closing.
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