Date: Sat, 23 Dec 2006 23:29:39 -0500
From: carl_mason@comcast.net
Subject: JOSEF'S FORGE - 5

JOSEF'S FORGE - 5

Copyright 2006 by Carl Mason with Ed Collins

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without
the written permission of the authors.  However based on real events and
places, "Josef's Forge" is strictly fictional.  Any resemblance to actual
events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  As
in real life, however, the sexual themes unfold gradually.

If you would like to read other Mason-Collins stories, please turn to the
listing at the end of this chapter.  Comments on all stories are
appreciated and may be addressed to the authors at carl_mason@comcast.net.

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both
adults and teenagers.  As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the
personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature, adults.  If you are not of
legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you
trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral
dilemmas in your life, please leave.  Finally, remember that maturity
generally demands that anything other than safe sex is sheer insanity!


CHAPTER 5

(Revisiting Chapter 4)

The large group of prisoners sat and stood as if frozen to the ground.
Several had ugly smirks on their faces as they contemplated the sweet
revenge that seemed about to take place.  Josef suddenly glanced at his
buddies - and took off running for the truck, his Squad members at his
heels.  The guards were too far into shock to react.  Climbing up on the
lumber truck, they stabilized the log that was threatening to topple and
got a chain around it.  Once it was secure, they climbed down and
approached the jumbled logs that trapped the two young guards who were
sobbing and white-faced with fear.  At this point, the guards recovered an,
along with the Squad and several of the other prisoners, freed the trapped
boys.  The leg of one was pretty well torn up and bleeding heavily, but
they got the bleeding stopped.  The other youngster came out of his brush
with death with little more than heavy scratches and a few abrasions. As an
empty truck approached, the head guard sent the prisoners who hadn't been
involved in the rescue back into the forest.  He then ordered the two
guards - and the body of the dead boy - lifted onto the truck.  The Squad
and the few other prisoners who had belatedly helped were told to climb
aboard.  They left immediately for the camp.

(Continuing Our Story - No Free Lunch)

The prisoners were taken to the guards' duty room in the administration
building and fed their first good meal since they approached Stalingrad.
As they sat down to their meal, the head guard (an old pro) came in from
somewhere, probably to see his men.  Not unkindly, he told them that the
rich food could do a number on them if they weren't careful.  Borscht
dripping down their chins, eying a platter of sausages and potatoes that
had just been placed on the table, and holding pieces of rough bread,
several of the boys grinned and bobbed their heads in thanks.  (They
decided that the stomach upset that might follow was well worth the pain!)

In the barracks that night, they received some criticism from several of
their fellow prisoners.  Josef told them frankly that he hadn't ceased
being a human being when he donned the Wehrmacht uniform, or when he was
sent to this camp.  Somewhat facetiously, he added that he'd do the same
thing for them!  No one was willing to tangle with six young guys.  Simply
staying alive takes most of your energy.

After roll call the next morning, Josef was ordered to report to the
Commandant's office.  Standing in front of the Major's desk, Josef snapped
to rigid attention.  "Stand easy, Sergeant," the officer said quietly.
Relaxing, Josef interrupted uneasily, "Sir, I'm not really a sergeant.  The
guys..."  "You're a sergeant by me," the Major snapped, ignoring the
interruption.  "If you were one of mine, I'd be pinning a medal on you!"
"Thank you, sir," Josef replied, blushing.

"For several reasons," the Commandant continued, "I'm thinking about
instituting a new program.  It would have to begin with the oldest
men...and the youngest.  Truth is, I need a test case to see if it would
really have a good effect on morale and on production."  ("My superiors
aren't very forgiving," he added wryly.)  "Would you be interested in
serving me and your fellow prisoners further...honorably...as a German
soldier?"  "Sir!" Josef said firmly, snapping to attention.  "Relax, young
man," the Major said with a slight smile.  "You Germans..."

"The idea goes something like this," he continued.  "The oldest and
youngest prisoners would be given a half-day's assignment at tasks for
which they have some competence.  My Sergeant of Guards and the officer who
supervised your assignment would jointly advise me on the quality of your
work and its contribution to my...responsibilities.  In your case, your men
have all had some education - several on the collegiate level.  Despite all
you've been through, you're still fairly presentable - and you all speak
and read at least some Russian.  I think your assignment would be in my
Records office, right here in this building.  If you succeed, I will be
able to expand the program to include other men.  Do I still have your
interest?"  Josef scarcely knew whether to shout with joy or give way to
the tears that were backed up behind his eyelids.  He kept his composure
and said simply, "You have my full interest, Comrade Major, and my pledge
to do everything in my power to make the program a resounding success!"
"Good," the Major breathed with satisfaction.

"When the lunch break is announced tomorrow, you and your men will report
back to camp on the double, shower thoroughly, and report to Lieutenant
Voroshilo in the Records Office.  You will be provided with lunch after you
reach his office.  Have you any questions?"  "No, Sir!" Josef answered.
"Very well...Sergeant.  Dismissed!"  Snapping to attention, Josef wheeled
and headed for the door.  "Hold, young man," the Major's voice called out.
When Josef again faced him, the officer continued, "Thank you for what you
and your boys did yesterday.  Both my wife and I are close personal friends
of the family of the young man whose leg was badly hurt."  "Is he ok?"
Josef interrupted.  "Yes," the Major responded, again letting the
interruption pass.  "Thanks to you and the guard who was in charge, he
reached us in time.  The doctors tell me that he will regain full use of
his leg."  "GOOD!" Josef exclaimed, grinning widely.  Hesitating, clearly
on the verge of again dismissing him, the Major rose, walked over to the
boy, rubbed the stubble on his head, and said, "Come with me down the hall
and meet Lieutenant Voroshilo."

After a short hike down the corridor of a building that Josef found was
maintained at an uncomfortably warm temperature, he stood face to face with
Voroshilo, a relatively short, rotund man in his later 30s.  While not
unpleasant, he appeared to be very much the "apparatchik" [functionary].
In addition to having Party responsibilities, the Records Office was
clearly his fief, and even the Major treated him gingerly.  After the
Commandant had departed, he spoke with Josef for a few minutes, indicating
that he welcomed the assistance that the Squad might bring to his
operation.  Rather than return to the barracks for a cold-water shower,
Josef and his men could enter the building through a door that led directly
into the large room next door.  There they would find hooks for outside
clothing, work dress, and a table with benches.  By 1:15, he expected them
to have showered, dressed, finished lunch, and reported for duty.  (The
mention of a shower with hot water brought a grin to the handsome young
sergeant's face.)  The Lieutenant nodded impassively and ordered him to
return to his forest duties.

When released at noon on the morrow, Josef checked with the head guard
whereupon he and the rest of the Squad took off running for the camp.  It
was already 12:20 when they forced their way into the room through the
outside door that had been pointed out by Lieutenant Voroshilo.  Though an
ample (and rather appetizing) lunch was already on the table, Josef ordered
the boys to strip and enter the decent-sized shower room.  They could
scarcely believe the hot water - or the guards' soap and shampoo that were
readily available.  Though Gerd, Thomas, and Wolf looked on with some
disdain, Erich and Heinz were actually doing a little jig as they
generously soaped each other's roughly shorn scalps.  Josef finally pried
the others - not to speak of himself - away from a luxury that they had
never been completely sure they would ever again experience.

Quickly drying themselves, they beheld their "work dress" that had been
piled on one end of the table.  "Good thing that it's as hot as hell in
here," Thomas muttered as he held up a pair of the cheap cotton,
one-size-fits-all gym shorts.  No one was any happier when they pulled them
on and tied the waist cord, for the light gray shorts were REALLY short and
had no liner.  Thus, especially on the larger and more generously endowed
lads such as Gerd and Wolf, they left little to the imagination.  Happily,
their eyes immediately fell upon the generous lunch that was soon
dispatched!

Josef noticed that the office clock read 1:10 pm when he lined the Squad up
in front of Voroshilo's desk, snapped to attention, and said firmly (in
near perfect Russian), "At your command, Comrade Lieutenant!"

After perhaps 30 seconds, their new supervisor looked up from the papers he
had been rather ostentatiously shuffling and said quietly - with just a
note of threat in his voice - "Thank you, Sergeant."

His face absolutely expressionless and saying not a word, Voroshilo's eyes
carefully examined each of the Squad members in turn.  Finally, he drummed
his fingers on the desk and said, "Well, I have seen worse."  He then asked
each boy a few questions in Russian.  Gerd and Heinz stumbled a bit, but
they all managed to answer the questions that were asked in passable
Russian.  He then gave each young man a small piece of paper and asked him
to provide two or three sentences on how he thought he might best
contribute to his new assignment.  Collecting the papers, he examined each
in turn, occasionally mumbling, but finally tossing them into the
wastepaper basket with a somewhat reluctant grunt of acceptance.  Josef
mentally wiped his brow and thanked the gods that he had insisted that
Erich conduct a final language review the night before.  Work begun so long
ago - in the holding camp east of Krasnoslobodsk - may have just given them
an opportunity to survive!

The three young "Blue Caps" (NKVD personnel) who had been working in the
Records Office spent the rest of the afternoon instructing their
replacements in the Lieutenant's copying, filing, and final record entering
procedures.  Not a personal word was spoken; indeed, the Blue Caps seemed
to avert their eyes whenever possible.  As six o'clock approached,
Voroshilo told them to report to the head guard for new assignments and
dismissed them with nary a word of thanks or other change in his impassive,
distant demeanor.  Turning to his new staff, he said coolly, "I prefer that
my assistants be well groomed.  Starting tomorrow, I expect that you will
keep your bodies shaved below the eyebrows. You will find that your dinner
has been delivered next door.  After enjoying it, you may use the showers
and the shaving equipment for your grooming.  As long as I have your full
cooperation, this procedure will be repeated weekly. You are responsible
for daily maintenance. The duty guard has been informed.  Dismissed!"

The boys had no sooner pushed through the door leading from the Records
Office into the Ready Room than everyone seemed to want to talk at the same
time.  Signaling for silence, Josef might have encountered some resistance,
but the smells coming from the large covered food trays proved
irresistible.  Baked potatoes!  And, oh God, that had to be...that just had
to be...MEAT!  As they polished off the last scraps and sopped up the
juices with chunks of fresh bread, Josef and Thomas looked at the shaving
equipment and at each other, shrugged, and proceeded to do as they had been
ordered.

However wary about the well being of his men, Josef's fears did not seem to
materialize.  Lieutenant Voroshilo was clearly a cold fish.  He was also a
perfectionist, but the Squad realized the situation into which they had
stumbled and, to a man, performed well.  They even received relatively
little flak from the other men, for the word had gotten around that this
was a pilot program and, if successful, might be extended.  True, they
weren't privy to ALL of the details.  For instance, they were not tortured
with the full menu that continued to put muscle back onto the Squad.  Nor
were the boys ABOUT to admit that they rather liked the feeling of smoothly
shaved skin once they had gotten used to the idea - and it was so much
easier to control the body vermin.  It was also the case that the
Lieutenant did exactly as he said he would do.  At noon they ate the same
food given the guards; they still couldn't believe the hot showers.  The
first dinner - and thorough shaving session - had been followed by two
more.  After Voroshilo had actually complimented Erich and him on the final
ledger sheets for two full weeks, Josef was wondering whether he could work
one more weekly dinner!  Unfortunately, he forgot that there's no such
thing as a "free lunch" - or dinner.

"Twas the end of their first month in the new assignment.  They looked
forward to their fourth dinner that very night, as well as that weekly
session in which they could really enjoy the hot water and soap.  It was
perhaps 4:30 when the Lieutenant called Gerd to bring over some new
"green-tag" files.  Explaining that he wished these rather rare files to be
kept in the large bottom drawer of his desk, he moved over slightly for the
large dark blond youth who knelt before him.  How different the sight from
the one that had greeted him only a month before.  Gerd had always been the
best built of the boys in the Squad.  Now the extra food coupled with the
hard work in the forest was turning his body into something rarely seen in
the gulag.  Wide shoulders tapered down to a solid waist; his torso was
thickening again; the entire top of his crack and his muscular thighs were
exposed by the skimpy shorts.  Taking one file off the rather large pile,
the supervisor rubbed it against the youth's bulging bicep until he
noticed.  When the hunky blond turned slightly to take the file, he showed
him how to place a coding mark on the label and place it immediately behind
the folder he had just filed.  "Nice work, Gerd," he whispered.  The lad
grinned with pleasure, replying boyishly, "Thank you, Comrade Lieutenant."

The grin faded as Gerd felt a hand slowly work its way down his lower back
and onto his buttocks, kneading and flexing as it went.  A probing finger
actually brushed his anus.  Partially hidden by the desk, the young German
rose up on his knees.  Without pausing, the hand quickly untied the cord
and explored his lower stomach.  "Uh...uh...uh...  Sir," the youngster
whispered in feverish distress.  "Relax, my boy," Voroshilo murmured.  "You
don't want to spend the rest of your days at hard labor on the road."  The
fingers of the hand played with the veins that arched across Gerd's tight
lower stomach - before reaching deeper and scooping up his heavy balls.
Slowly, he toyed with them as if they were beads on a rosary.  Reaching up,
he freed the blond's heavy shaft from the cheap fabric.  It was as hard as
a piece of Krupp steel, a river of precum seeming to flow from the slit.
With an abrupt movement of his fingers, Voroshilo fully exposed the boy's
fat mushroom-shaped head and swirled precum over the shiny, reddened flesh.
A slippery finger dropped down to play with the frenulum.

As the youth gasped and stiffened, the expressionless supervisor bent down
with a file in hand, telling the desperate lad that he was to pull himself
together, gather the green- tag files, and wait for him in the Ready Room.
"Oh, sir...please," the muscular blond whispered, one step away from
sobbing.  "If anyone realizes what is going on," the low voice continued in
a deadly tone, "you and the rest of your friends will be stripped and
working on the road in the snow within the hour.  I doubt that any of you
will live out the night."  Steeling himself, Gerd did as he had been
ordered.  No one noticed.  The supervisor's desk was some distance from the
other boys who were working hard at various stations in the relatively
large Records Office.

After perhaps five minutes or so, Voroshilo joined Gerd in the Ready Room.
Still in control of himself, the youngster sat slumped at the table.
Raising his tear-splattered face, he softly cried out, "Please, Comrade
Lieutenant...  I'm straight.  I've never..."  "You have a choice, you
German swine," Voroshilo grated out between his teeth.  "Give me noise or a
disturbance and you're dead in the snow.  Your life - and your friends'
lives - for your ass...  Not a bad trade, yes?"  His hands reached down and
pulled Gerd to his feet, then tore the shorts from his body.

Fashioning a rough gag from the rags, he pushed the lad down onto the table
on his stomach. His eyes wide with lust, Voroshilo kicked the blond's legs
far apart and reached under the trembling body for his swollen genitals.
His tongue in league with his fingers and a smallish, heavily lubricated
hand opened the virgin lad.  Despite himself, the muscular Gerd eventually
began moaning and thrusting against the pressure.  Evidently counting that
a minor victory, the Lieutenant then rammed his cock into the boy's gaping
hole and viciously raped him until a bloody froth escaped from his torn
anus.

No more than a half hour had passed since Gerd had returned to the Office
when Josef looked up from a particularly painstaking task.  (Operating in a
situation where Russian wasn't his native language - and where there was
something less than zero tolerance for errors - did demand concentration.)
Eventually, his eyes fell on Gerd who had returned to cabinet filing.
Immediately, he knew that something was wrong...seriously wrong.  He jumped
as Thomas, who had been copying a report, dropped his pen and bent down to
retrieve it.  As Thomas returned to his stool, he was able to give Josef a
quick glance that could not be seen by Voroshilo.  He had seen that glance
before - and, on more than one occasion, it had saved his life.  Freeze...
All senses at high alert, but do nothing, at least for the moment...

As the boys filed into the Ready Room less than 20 minutes later, everyone
realized that Gerd was in trouble.  Indeed, the Office door had no sooner
closed than he collapsed.  As they worked to bring him to, the fantastic
dinner on the table went untouched.  Though seemingly unable to make a
sound, tears poured out of his eyes as he slowly came regained
consciousness.  Tossing his head to and fro, he was sweating so heavily
that the stubble on his head was actually plastered to his
skull. Strangely, when his eyes first focused on Josef, his entire body
began to jerk in terror.  Quickly, the sergeant stepped back, asking Thomas
to hold their friend.  Within moments, he began whispering clear orders:
"Shorts off; into the showers; let Gerd know that he's our buddy and we're
with him; Erich, get that clump of cotton batting out of Gerd's hole and
gently help him clean up.  If he can sit on the can and empty himself, all
well and good - but don't push it.  Wolf, use the bag on the table and
gather as much of the food as you can.  We can't talk here.  It's back to
the barracks as soon as we've got it together and are dressed."  As the
Squad prepared to depart the Ready Room, Josef's last action was to move
over to a fast reviving Gerd.  Holding a nice chunk of roasted pork against
his lips, he growled, "Eat."  When Gerd play-snarled and snapped at his
fingers (before accepting the morsel!), Josef grinned and lightly slugged
him on the arm of his heavily padded winter coat. The remainder of the rich
meal was placed on a table alongside the regular nightly ration and
distributed to all in the barracks.  "Raided the guards' trash on the way
home," mumbled Josef to the older soldier who was responsible for
distribution that night.  Not everyone got a bite, but those on whom Lady
Luck smiled spoke about the taste for years!

When the boys finally gathered between their two bunks, the air was thick
with tension.  Gerd seemed ready to tear up again; no one was in good
shape.  Finally, after a couple of false starts, Josef sat back as Thomas
asked if he could say something.  "Got something to say, mates," he began,
"and it's not going to be pretty no matter how I say it.  So I'll just spit
it out.  The new assignment gives us a chance to survive.  Without the time
away from the trees and out of the weather, without the decent food...I
just don't know.  It would be harder.  Mark my word, Voroshilo will get
his.  Believe that, but don't expect it to happen tomorrow, or the next
day, or even this month.  Until then - and this is so damned difficult - I
say we put up with it so we can live.  You can live if you're raped; you
can't live if you're worked and starved to death.  We're all in the same
boat.  My guess is that rape is just as terrible for one guy in here as it
is for the next - but it needn't kill you."  Not really wanting to get
involved in this conversation any further than he had to, Josef only added
tersely, "Voroshilo is a political officer with some connections in
Moscow." "I don't think we can force a direct confrontation between the
Commandant and him.  Gotta go round the barn a little on this one."  The
debate was heated, but the final vote was 6-0 in favor of Thomas'
suggestion.  Later on, Josef would give a few suggestions on how to make
"taking it" a little easier.

The atmosphere in the Records Office on the next day was cool - but, then,
the boys had never had a "personal" relationship with the supervisor.  The
facts remained: The work was usually completed without error.  From the
young men's perspective, the work was only demanding mentally - when it was
demanding at all - and the food and showers kept coming.  Oh, the
Commandant stopped by a couple times during the next month.  Just
stretching his legs, he told the Lieutenant as he smiled at Josef.

During the second month following Gerd's rape, the Lieutenant took Erich;
one month later, Thomas.  Discipline held, though it nearly snapped when
Voroshilo put Heinz in the hospital a month later.  A rough branch torn off
a tree can do that to a guy...especially in the hands of a sadist.  The
little redhead was still in the infirmary when an armed guard - one of the
older men - appeared in the Records Office and occupied the supervisor's
desk until the end of the day.  That night, the boys heard what had
happened.  Walking from his office to a nearby barracks, Voroshilo had been
shot and killed.  (He, too, had apparently forgotten that there's no such
thing as a free lunch!)  A guard in one of the watchtowers - a man who had
previously worked in the Records Office - was arrested.  Subsequently, a
court martial refused to convict him.  The word was "Insufficient
evidence"...or something like that.  Rumor had it that the Commandant had
him immediately transferred to an NKVD unit on the liberated Crimea.  "Nice
beach duty - and it's warm," a straight-faced Josef had grunted enviously,
though Erich was almost positive that he had seen the beginnings of a grin!
When the Squad entered the Office on the next day, a new lieutenant was in
charge.  Although it took him several months to warm up to his young German
staff, he knew his business and he was a fair man.  Who could ask for more?


(To Be Continued)


                DATES OF LAST POSTING IN NIFTY
       Archived in Gay/Historical Unless Otherwise Noted

OUT OF THE RUBBLE (32 Chapters): 10-22-04.
CASTLE MARGARETHEN (9 Cs):  12-24-04.
THE PRIEST & THE PAUPER (12 Cs):  3-10-05.
HIGH PLAINS DOCTOR (12 Cs):  4-25-05.
FOR GOD AND COUNTRY (9 Cs): 6-13-05.
HOBO TEEN (12 Cs):  8-23-06.
YOUNG JEREMY TAYLOR (9 Cs):  9-25-06 (posted in Sci-Fi/Fantasy).
STREETS OF NEW YORK (10 Cs):  12-06-06.
JOSEF'S FORGE  (10 Cs): Posting.