Date: Wed, 26 Sep 2012 18:12:03 +0400
From: Ivan Ivanocich <ivan.ivanocich.97@mail.ru>
Subject:  Russian Choirboy Pubes -pt five

Artem: His Voice and his List

This story contains scenes of a mild sexual nature and if you are not
allowed to read it please don't. If you are not old enough please don't.
If by reading this you are breaking any laws in your state, town, city or
country then please do not read any further. If however you do, you can
legally and want to, then read on and enjoy the story.

Please DO NOT make copies, or post this story in any other sites without my
specific permission.

I was very happy to receive very good reports of the last chapter, which
some said was the best so far; also there were many suggestions.  In part
Six I shall include some of these suggestions; but here is Part Five!
Artem: His Voice and his List!

     Now it was certainly time for Dima to concentrate on other tasks,
especially the forthcoming choral competition.  Rehearsals had been going
on for some weeks now and the choir was sounding very good and they had
certainly developed a good spirit of comradeship.  The programme was to be
a mixture of classical, and traditional Russian songs, including several
favourites from films of the Soviet times.  These Pioneer films are, of
course, regularly shown on television and may also be downloaded free (as
all Russians know how to!) , so they remain very popular.

    The training of the solo boys was also progressing successfully, Dima
concentrating on improving breathing and also developing good tone.  The
soloists for the concert were to be Tolya (14), Shurik(14) , Dima (13),
and, of course, Artem (whowill be 14 by the timeof the concert). He was
very sure that Artem would perform as successfully in singing as in
spunking, as he was very passionate in both respects; but there was one
moment in his training when the boy began to take great steps towards
perfection.

   For some weeks, Dima had visited Artem in his apartment to practise his
solos; it was very convenient as his grandfather had a very good "Siberian"
mark piano. The sessions had always passed very well and formally, no talk
referring to past `informal' situations.  But today things were a little
different
   "I want you to hear this recording, Dimitry Petrov" Artem said to him
one day as soon as Dima had arrived.  "It is on this flash-card.  You see,
Dimitry Petrov, it is the voice of my grandfather, captured on disk as he
broadcast from Moscow when he was fourteen years old, sixty years ago.  I
was very excited when he found the disc, but I could not play it until I
took it to a studio where it was processed; but I want you to be the first
to hear it, as I collected it only yesterday. The engineer said it was very
good!  Neither I nor my grandfather have yet heard it - I have save it for
you!"

    It might be worth mentioning here that Artem's father had long left the
family household after a dispute with his mother; so the boy was brought up
by his mother and his two loving grandparents, the latter living in the
same house but a different apartment. on the the floor
 "Oh Artem, it is so great! I am very excited to hear it, as I heard from
our Director that your grandfather was a famous boy soprano and even
broadcast on the radio.  How wonderful to have such a recording.  Let's
play it immediately!"

Artem was suddenly very hesitant , so much so that Dima asked him what was
wrong.

"I don't know, it's just that maybe we shall find he was not as good as we
have been told, and that his fame has been exaggerated over the years.  It
would be terrible if it were so, and I then could not then play it to my
grandfather. And the fact is, I have asked him to come to our apartment in
an hour to meet you.  He admires your work greatly!"

    Dima put his arm round the boy's shoulder and drew him to him, whilst
struggling somewhat to fix the flash-card to the USB and run the Kaspersky.
Artem had meanwhile closed his eyes waiting!  There was a long silence as
the file opened and then the feint sound of the old electric stylus running
into a groove of a gramophone record.  The reproduction was very good and
much of the noise removed, but as yet we heard only the sound of the
expectant microphone. Then SUDDENLY the voice of the Soviet announcer began
and introduced IVANOV Vladislav Petrovich, who would sing, accompanied by
orchestra, our great Soviet Anthem to mark Victory Day 1952.  "Come to the
microphone, Vladislav Petrovich and introduce yourself," the announcer
continued.

Artem's breast swelled with pride and his eyes filled with tears as he
heard the young adolescent voice of his grandfather.

"On this Victory Day we proudly recall the sacrifice of our many comrades
who gave their lives in defence of our great Soviet Republics in order that
we may live in peace forever."  At that moment, the chords of the orchestra
struck and the rather rough speaking voice of the boy was transformed into
the most beautiful instrument, so full, so rounded: here so powerful, and
there so sweet and soft.  The top notes were so easily produced, powerful
and high soprano and the bottom notes so rich and contralto with no chest
tones, that both Dima and the boy were quite overcome with emotion and shed
tears, as the young Vladik was joined by the voices of the great Soviet
chorus.  Both he and Artem listened in silence until the strains had died
away.

[For information I print here the translation of the words sun Vladik Solo:
Unbreakable Union of freeborn Republics, Great Russia has welded forever to
stand.

Created in struggle by will of the people, United and mighty, our Soviet
land!  CHORUS: Sing to the Motherland, home of the free, Bulwark of peoples
in brotherhood strong.

O Party of Lenin, the strength of the people, To Communism's triumph lead
us on!

Vladik Solo: Through tempests the sunrays of freedom have cheered us, Along
the new path where great Lenin did lead.

To a righteous cause he raised up the peoples, Inspired them to labour and
valourous deed.

CHORUS

Vladik Solo: In the victory of Communism's deathless ideal, We see the
future of our dear land.

And to her fluttering scarlet banner, Selflessly true we always shall
stand!  CHORUS]
 "Oh, Artem, it was so wonderful, and will give us great inspiration!" he
said, wiping tears from his eyes with one hand and stroking Artem's
tear-stained face with the other.  Let it be that we begin our concert with
our Anthem and you will sing this solo!  We must change the words to
conform to our new Federation, but that will not be a problem, as the tune
has always remained the same."

     And so it was that from this very moment that the voice of the young
Artem began to take on the tone of his grandfather, gaining in power and
sweetness every day until the two voices seemed indistinguishable.

    As Dima and Artem were still alone in the apartment, the boy suddenly
regaining his composure, dropped formality and whispered: "Dimka, do you
want to see my list?"

"Oh my fuck, Artem, I thought you were never going to ask,"

he replied, rubbing the boy's bottom in a more sexy way than would be
normal for a teacher to fondle his pupil. "It's been over six weeks since
our session in the changing room, and two months since our banya.  But we
have been so busy.  I suppose you have not had time to update it."

"Oh, it is updated regularly.  Whom do you want to know about first?  Let's
go to the computer as we shall be alone for some time and can relax. My
grandfather will call on the intercom from the street when he is coming, as
he is out shopping."

"Shall we start with you, Artem " Dima said mischievously!
 Artem opened his private files using a special password, and found the
list in question.

"Okay, Dimka!  So, how thick would you say my pubes are?  What is on your
list?" the boy teased!  Dima considered. "Well, I have you as pubes visible
but light and not thick.  Is it true, Artem?"

Without answering, Artem stood up. " You were right about my pubes: they
are darkening but not exactly a bush yet! . But you had better have a quick
look! You can wank me another time, if you can wait till then, but have
quick look now."!"

Artem was wearing attractive blue shorts and a white t-shirt, which Dima
stripped quite easily, the boy raising his arms to assist in the motion.
First Dima examined the boys arms, which had a little more hair than the
previous month.

"Remember, Dimka, I shall be 14 next week, so be prepared for a surprise,"
he teased, as Dima lowered the shorts to reveal his bulge.

 "Fucking puberty, Artem, and I see your face is slightly more adolescent,
even some hair on your lip."

"Shall I shave it off, Dimka? My mother does not like it.  But I like it."

"Yes, keep it Artem until it is thicker.  It is very sexy in a boy
soprano!"

"That's what I thought, and I know the girls like it," he teased again.

 "Fucking hell, Artem"

Dima exclaimed as he could clearly see the fringe of pubic hair appear as
the boy gently lowered the white briefs revealing darkening and curly blond
pubes.

"Fucking spunker, Artem: how did that grow in just over a month?  It's
grown quicker than the hair on you head."

"I'm really proud of it, and it's going to be quite thick.  Look, it's on
my balls too!  By-the-way, Dimka, do you remember that I whispered
something to Igor when you were looking at his penis closely?  It was
rather cheeky, but I'll tell you!"

"Yes, yes, Artem; what was it?"  Dima asked.

Artem went rather red and even though they were alone, he whispered: "I
said that maybe you would suck him!  Sorry, Dimka, are you offended"

"Artem, what do you know about sucking boys!  I thought you were innocent,"
he added!  Artem grinned and changed the subject. "But let's look at the
list!," he said as he quickly got dressed, remembering that his grandfather
would arrive in around 30 minutes.  They sat again at the computer.

"The easiest and most accurate is the pube list. I have categorised this by
ages.  We have eight 14 year olds in the choir, two soloists and head boys,
both with full bushes, almost men. Their voices will fail soon after the
concert I think you said."  Dima agreed that he knew that both boys were
worried that their voices might not last until the concert, but he was very
hopeful, as much would depend on will power.  Dima then watched in
astonishment as Artem scrolled down the list.

"So the 14 year olds – surprisingly four still are completely bald as of
last week!  The 13 year olds are very promising, as ten in total and mainly
underdeveloped, five bald, one full bush, one developing bush (me!- but I
shall be 14 next week!) and four young pubes.  One of the bald boys (he's
dark by-the-way,so any pubes would show) has the largest balls in the
choir, very sexy, and he spunks very strongly, I can tell you, Dima.  And,
of course, there is little Dimka, our promising soloist whose voice will
live to replace us all when our voices break! – I doubt he is even
spunking yet!"

"How do you know all this, Artem?" Dima asked, but was only told to hush by
Artem as he continued thus: "Of the 12 year olds, five are bald and five
have young pubes.  Of the 11 year olds, we have the twins, of course –
both now with full bushes, and speaking in hardened tones.  The rest are
bald.  So, in our concert choir, all but ten are spunking, 65 per cent have
pubes, including developing bushes. In all nine boys have full bushes.

"In the training choir of 9 and 10 year olds, there are some sexy results.
Of the fifteen 9 year olds, most, of course, are dry wankers, if that, but
three have the beginnings of pubes and are spunking and one spunker has the
start of a bush with low balls and well-wanked penis."

"The ten year olds mainly bald but several are spunkers, one has pubes and
two have the beginnings of bushes."

Dima was very excited. "This is very important information, Artem.  What
about our soloists?"

"With the exception of little Dima, we all have bushes or developing bushes
and are spunking thickly.  Some of the voices will not last long, maybe up
to a year, maybe two years for me, my grandfather says; and for little
Dima, - who knows!  I now have the biggest balls of the soloists, and
second in the choir," he added proudly.  "As for who is the strongest
spunker in the choir it is uncertain, as this information is a little more
difficult to ascertain."

    Just as this conversation was getting very interesting, the intercom
sounded, and Artem sent to the corridor to open the door for his
grandfather, who was standing in the street by the entry to their part of
the house.

"Let us close the computer, Dimka; my Grandfather will be here in a few
minutes: let's be ready to receive him."  So the two made sure everything
was in order and soon Vladislav Petrovich was at the door of the apartment.
"Let me help you with the products, Dada," Artem said as the two struggled
with the various packets and bags.  After they had been set down in the
kitchen, the two entered the living room to greet Dima.

"Good evening, Dimitry: I am more than glad to meet you," Vladik said as he
embraced him.  "You are more than welcome, and Artem tells me what a great
teacher, and a great friend you are to him.  Since his father sadly left,
he has wanted a younger man in his life."

Dima was astonished to see the striking resemblance: Artem being an image
of his tall and still slender grandfather, now aged 74 years.

"I thank you for your greeting, Vladislav Petrovich.  I am very glad to
meet you, as I have heard so much about you, not only from Artem, but from
Marina Alexandrovna, our Director who spoke of your fine achievements as a
boy soprano, so long ago."

   And so talk turned to things musical and soon the two were on familiar
terms, Artem's grandfather relating how he had been trained as a singer and
discovered quite by accident at a school concert in 1949.

   "In fact, Dima, I was not the first choice.  My voice was always judged
second to an older boy (Vova, I always remember him as) and it was that we
often sang together.  Only when his voice broke at 16 years did I take on
really interesting work.  It was then I broadcast several times from Moscow
and travelled much. Unfortunately, the broadcasts were not recorded, except
one –my first – which Artem recently took to try to play. I have
never heard the record, as my mother was told that if we played it with a
steel needle, the recording would be ruined; so it was kept in a packet.  I
expect by now the record is unplayable."

   At this point, Arthem very proudly announced to his grandfather the
success of his attempts to have the record transferred to digital
format. "And so, Dada, please sit down with us, and let us listen again to
your great voice."

  "You mean to say that we shall hear this now!"  Vladik said, as he sat
down in astonishment. "Many years ago, I wished to play it to your dear
father when he was being trained (imperfectly, in my view, by a poor
teacher!) but we did not have the technology to do so."

With that, the broadcast began, and the effect on Artem and his grandfather
was very moving.  At the end, Artem kissed his grandfather on the cheek and
wiped away a tear with a tissue as the old man had been sitting, silently
mouthing the words."

"Dima, I do not wish to interfere with your great training of Artem, but
would you mind if I took him to the piano and played this anthem for him to
sing to us now?  You see, I often tried to explain the correct tone to him,
but I lost my voice long ago,and it was impossible.  Now he has heard it
and can repeat"

"Oh, yes, please, Dimitry, let me sing it," Artem said.  Of course, Dima
readily agreed and soon the partition had been found in the piano stool and
set up at the piano and the key chosen to match that of the record.  Vladik
explained that he had not played for some years, so was out of practice,
but as soon as he struck the piano, Dima knew that he had been well
trained.

And then Artem began to sing, and to the astonishment of Dima, the boy's
voice had moved up to a new gear, taking on much of the beauty of his
grandfather's voice; and when the anthem was finished, no-one spoke for
some minutes, until Vladik, taking the boy onto his knee, broke the
silence.

"I only wish your dear late great-grandmother (my mother) were here to hear
this.  Many years ago, when our son (your father) was singing, she
complained that he did not have my voice, but prophesied that one day it
would return, once more to greet the world. You have done a great work in
helping him find this voice, Dima, and now we have but a short time to
develop it before it fades forever.  Let us drink together (you will have
juice, Artem, not vodka!" he said, seeing the boy's eyes light up at the
prospect of a toast!) to his success, and to the whole choir."


    As the day of the concert approached, the Director of the School called
Dima to her office to discuss the arrangements.  She explained to him that
the Mayor of the town would introduce the proceedings in the great
Philharmonic Hall and would, in turn, introduce Dima and the choir to the
stage.


"The boys will look very splendid in their uniforms, I am sure," she said.
"I, myself, will attend backstage to check the tidiness of the boys, as it
would not do to have anyone badly presented, and you will have too much to
think about to be able to attend to their clothes. However, they must bring
their trousers to school some days before the concert so that we may make
any alterations and send any to the sewing woman, as necessary."

The Director also said that she would have a little surprise for Dima, but
she was not prepared to elaborate further on this point.

Fortunately all the older boys' voices were strongly holding and had proved
invaluable in assisting in the training of the younger boys.  The solos had
been allocated and everyone seemed happy with the programme which would
begin with classical songs, and then after the entr'acte would continue
with folk and popular songs, ending with the Anthem of the Russian
Federation with Artem as soloist.

So the week of the concert dawned and the boys had been told to bring their
uniforms to school of inspection. Dima was looking forward to seeing his
boys dressed in their new choir uniforms of black trousers, white shirt and
red ties, and so it was that they assembled in the sports hall for their
inspection.  Dima was to supervise their changing and then the Director
would arrive for the inspection.

"I seem to remember that only some weeks ago we four were having a
different kind of inspection in this very changing room," Igor joked to
Victor as they took off their school clothes and began to put on their
uniform.

"Do not joke about this," Artem said..  "Dimitry Petrov would not like us
discussing this in front of the small boys. It would not be appropriate.
"And if the Director should hear of our behaviour, we should all be in some
trouble."


The concluding part of this story - "The Concert and a Great Surprise" will
follow. Suggestions will be welcome and comments to Vanya.


ivan.ivanocich.97@mail.ru