Date: Tue, 28 Sep 2004 12:51:27 -0400
From: carl5de@netscape.net
Subject: OUT OF THE RUBBLE - 26

OUT OF THE RUBBLE - 26

Copyright 2004 by Carl Mason

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 author.  Comments on the story are
appreciated and may be addressed to the author at carl5de@netscape.net.

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between a young adult
male and young male teenagers.  Nevertheless, "Out of the Rubble" is
neither a strictly "suck and fuck" exercise nor is it a story that focuses
on the "love of adults for the young"...often without sex or with the mere
suggestion of sex.  If you are looking for these types of erotic fiction,
there are fine examples of each on Nifty.  Something slightly different is
required here.

However based on real events and places, "Out of the Rubble" is strictly
fictional.  Any resemblance to actual events, or locales, or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  Further, this 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!

Thank you, Ed C., for your devoted help on this section of the story!


PART 26

(Revisiting the End of Part 25)

As they left camp for Hassfurt on the morning of the seventh day, both boys
found it very difficult to contemplate returning to civilization.
Reluctantly, Andreas removed his ball weight & stretcher, as well as his
butt plug and slave collar, cleaned and packed them away, and donned the
traditional hiking outfit that Rolf had brought from Frankfurt.  They
emerged from the woods at about 1500 hours (3:00 pm) just a short distance
from the first houses of the town.  Turning back, remembering their new
friends who lived to the east, the two youngsters gazed at the
forest-covered Hasseberge, rising in waves towards the Soviet Zone
frontier.  They stood dreamily, arms around the other's shoulders.  Heavily
tanned, Andy's hair bleached to a light blond, Rolf's to a less intense
black - and, if anything, more tightly muscular than when they had left -
they felt on top of the world.  "Super hike, Andy," Rolf allowed.  "Yeah, a
real super hike!"  Andy agreed.

(Continuing Our Story: Bears & Barons)

It was already September and the weather had cooled a bit when the Baron
returned to Tieferwald.  Actually, he had come down to talk with Ehrhardt.
Inasmuch as about 15 miles (24 km) of road that seemed to have been under
repair forever had just been opened, he found himself at his destination
far too early to disturb a man with a wife and small baby.  Thus, he
wandered into the kitchen where he found Bruno, the resident ski expert.
Great!  He had brought a copy of one of the bear pictures taken in the
Hasseberge that had been earmarked for the youngster.  Rolf grinned as he
remembered laughingly referring to Bruno as "the bear's 'cousin'."  Good
timing!

Bruno immediately rose and politely said, "Guten Morgen, Herr Baron" ["Good
morning, Baron."].  Rolf would have none of it.  After all, he said, he was
one of The House's "Old Boys."  Besides, all the "bowing and scraping" made
him uncomfortable, especially when Bruno and he were so close in age.
Although Bruno tried to smile, Rolf quickly gathered that he was feeling
pretty low.  "What's wrong, man?" he asked.  "Damn it all, Rolf, I feel
like I got kicked in the balls!  Yesterday, I found out that Germans won't
be allowed to compete in the 1948 Winter Olympic Games at St. Moritz.
That's shitty!  How long is this damned war going to last?"

"Well, if you're not going to sleep," Rolf asked, "how about a cup of
coffee?"  While it was brewing, the young man brought out the picture of
"Bruno the Bruin."  "There IS a slight family resemblance, wouldn't you
say...maybe distant cousins?" he snickered.  A slight grunt was about all
he got in return, for Bruno wasn't quite ready to be cheered up.  "It's
yours, if you want it, friend.  I'll leave it for you here on the table."

Making an effort, Bruno said, "I hear you and Andy had a good hike."
"Yeah, Rolf replied, "it was fantastic!  We saw some super country...up
towards the Soviet Zone in the Hasseberge, you know.  Got some great
pictures...met some interesting people as well as Bruno the Bruin.  Came
back in that condition you can never quite reach in the Exercise Club."
"Yeah," Bruno agreed, "I know.  I was really looking forward to the
physical training that's part of getting ready for the 'Big Games'.

"Listen, Bruno," Rolf said with sudden enthusiasm, "I have an idea that
just might prove interesting to you.  Bear with me and tell me a bit about
yourself."

"Well, there isn't really all that much to tell.  I fled for my life from
Yugoslavia's Slovenian Republic; my father and mother, both medical doctors
- and all my close relatives - died in Auschwitz; I escaped with the help
of my coach; I guess I've skied about as long as I can remember.  What
else?  Well, I'm really into physical fitness and use the Exercise Club
regularly.  I guess I do 'pretty well' in school, especially in math and
science.  I don't have any really close friends at DAS HAUS, but the ski
trip gave me some visibility and I like living here.  Does that help,
Rolf?"

"Yeah, that helps a lot!  Tell you what I'm thinking," Rolf said.  "Some
guys with whom I served in the SS and I are planning to form a ski club
this winter.  You know...get into shape, get those skis on...maybe pick up
a race or two.  They're mainly 18 and 19 - one's 20 - but given your
reputation on the slopes...  If you are interested in trying out...

"Oh, I'm interested, Rolf!  I'm interested, but I can see a couple of
possible problems."  (Rolf's eyes told him to continue.)  "First, my mother
was Jewish and, secondly, I'm straight.  What does that add up to...for
you?"

Rolf grinned, stretched lazily, and got his answer straight before he
opened his mouth.  (Though only 18, his Frankfurt experiences had already
taught him a few things!)  "Why didn't you go to Palestine?" he asked
abruptly.  "'Cause I'm German!" the answer returned...just as abruptly.
"Don't get me wrong, Rolf.  I respect - and I understand - those who have
emigrated, but it just isn't for me. This is my country, for better AND
worse."  "Fair enough, Rolf continued, "Now it's your turn not to get ME
wrong.  I mean no disrespect.  I just have to tell you that I don't give a
damn whether a guy's cut or uncut - in the locker room or outside it.  I
want to see what he can do out on the slopes...or in DAS HAUS...or talking
with me right now.  I can't believe that so many bought Hitler's crap about
'pure Aryan blood' and 'Untermenschen' [sub-humans]!"  "And my question
about being straight?" Bruno persisted.  "Our group has both gays and
straights, Bruno," Rolf answered.  I'm gay myself, but the last thing I
would do is push myself on someone who wasn't.  I've got too much respect
for myself - and no less for the other guy."

"Have you taken any crap about either of these issues here?" Rolf asked.
"No!" Bruno exclaimed.  "Sometimes it gets a little tense, but everyone in
DAS HAUS has pretty much decided that race and the gay-straight thing are
non-issues as long as everyone supports the other guy as his brother.  In
Europe, you'd be surprised by how many people have more than a few drops of
'Jewish blood'.  And you find brothers who are gay and straight in a lot of
families.  I have...had...a brother who was gay," he concluded, choking
just a bit.  "I guess that's me, Rolf...good, bad, and indifferent.  Do I
still have any chance of trying out for your club?"

"You're damned right you do!" Rolf spat out.  "I'll be in touch in about a
month - count on it!"  Grinning, his spirits seeming to be rise by the
second, Bruno picked up the photo and looked at it.  "My cousin, huh?
That's a really OLD bear!  I bet I have almost as much hair as he does!"
(pause) As he tucked the photo into his shirt pocket, he said simply,
"Thanks, Rolf...thanks!"

Just as Bruno left, Ehrhardt popped his head into the kitchen.  Seeing
Rolf, he asked whether he would like to have a cup of coffee with Sam and
him before they spoke privately.

(Crime & Punishment)

>From the moment that they walked into his tiny office, Ehrhardt and Rolf
knew that Sam was still tied up in emotional knots by the "Otto mess" (see
Parts 23/late and 24/early).  The Director was confused, for he wanted both
to vent and to redeem his earlier promise to Ehrhardt that they would
continue their discussion about war and killing (see Part 18/early).

As soon as they had their coffee, Sam began talking about the pain he felt,
not only about Otto's actions, but also about the momentary look of terror
that he had seen on the boy's face as he trudged up the walk to his
mother's apartment house.  "Truthfully, gentlemen, what did I buy by
suspending him?" he asked.

As much as he respected and liked Sam, Ehrhardt was really pretty tired of
the "softness" that motivated these kinds of questions.  "What's bothering
you so, boss?  Would you have preferred that a kid who was proved to be a
liar, a thief, and a bully be allowed to continue living at DAS HAUS?"

Rolf who was no less appreciative and supportive couldn't help but speak
his mind.  "As much as we hate to admit it, Sam, there IS such a thing as
an incorrigible kid.  If you don't get rid of the rotten apple...fast...it
will ruin the whole barrel!"

Sam asked about the chances of Otto's "making it" - even if he did provide
the names of two men who stood ready to help him.  In utter frustration,
both of Sam's friends sputtered, "Is that OUR fault?  How could WE possibly
be responsible?"

Sam, who was not exactly unfamiliar with the attitudes that were being
expressed, pulled back and tried another tack.  "Are we trying to assign
responsibility - and, perhaps, escape our own - or are we trying to save
kids?  Come on, guys!  Let's avoid the whole 'blame game.'  Let's think for
a moment about what we might conceivably have done to help Otto before
suspending him."

The suggestions that followed were not quite those for which Sam was
hoping.  "Find the money for another dozen staff members.  Then we'd have a
fair chance of catching the little bastards!"  How about establishing a
detailed 'rules and penalties' book and enforcing it without exception?"

Sam suggested that they might give every kid admitted to DAS HAUS some
training in handling their aggression.  The office exploded!  "Why in God's
name would you want to do that?"  "Aggression is 'natural' in males of all
the 'higher' species!  Though I've never seen anything about it in texts, I
had a professor at Heidelberg who observed chimps killing monkeys and even
each other!  Look at human history!  Isn't war a constant?"  "However
terrible war may be, most of the great human inventions have their origin
in wartime needs."  "Are you trying to make our kids into little girls?"
"Are you trying to do away with sport?"  And so it went...on, and on, and
on.

With more than a trace of sarcasm, Sam interrupted to say that Tieferwald
and Frankfurt - let alone the adolescents with whom they worked daily -
provided examples of why simply "accepting aggression as natural" might
have its limits.  "In any case," he went on, "we may be getting off the
track.  I'm talking about helping kids learn how to channel their
aggression and to express it at the right time and in less destructive
ways."

At that point, Rolf replied, "Well, if that's what we're talking about,
maybe giving the kids some training in managing their aggression when they
get here might help.  But what if there ARE 'incorrigibles'?"

Sam's reply was straightforward, "Maybe there will be those whom we can't
help - and we'll lose them - but is that a good reason for failing to help
those we can?  Let me see if I can come up with an educational approach and
some materials that we might consider."  Looking at his watch, he added,
"Get out of here.  I know you guys need to talk.  Besides, these September
mornings are getting cool, and I need to talk to a few people about
purchasing a new furnace for this barn!"

(Andy's Day)

    Franz

Andreas was doing his damnedest to make sense of tonight's assignment in
genetics when a knock sounded at his door.  "Herein! [Come in!"], he
shouted over the music.  "Hi, Franz!  Just give me a moment.  Sit!"
Clearing his desk with obvious relief, he turned to his visitor.  "What's
up, friend?"

"Andy, I'm in real trouble!"  (An obviously shattered youngster sat in
front of him.  That was strange, for Franz was normally one of the most
easy-going guys in the entire House.  Now he sat, sweating, unable to keep
his hands still, his face ashen, trembling with...  Well, whatever it was,
it sure wasn't good!)

Reaching over and putting his hand on Franz's shoulder, Andy continued,
"Hey, friend...I'm here, and I'm with you all the way.  Tell me what in
hell's wrong."

Further confounding Andy and pushing his sense of apprehension up towards
the ceiling, Franz broke into wild sobbing.  "Oh, Andy, God's going to
strike me dead - if they don't shoot me first!"  Andy quickly answered,
"Hey, Franz, I can't speak for God, but nobody's going to shoot you.
Believe me, if we have to, we'll have the police here in minutes!  "Please,
Andy, no police..."  Franz sighed.  "Come on, man," Andy urged, "tell me
what's wrong.  Then we'll work on this together!"

"Andy, Genevieve's pregnant!  Maybe a month or so...  We didn't believe it,
so I took her to a doctor over in Grosser Kammlen.  She is - and she's
going to have a baby, probably sometime in May!"

Andy went on to ask about their ages (Franz was 16; Genevieve would be 16
in a little over two weeks.) and whether Franz was reasonably sure he was
the father.  Genevieve had barely agreed to have sex with him, Franz
reported, and they loved each other wildly.  As he continued talking with
his friend, the situation seemed to get worse.  Both were expellees; both
had lost their families in the War.  (Franz's family had lived in Hungary;
Genevieve's in Poland.) While Franz wasn't active in a church, Genevieve
was a fervent Catholic and refused even to say the word "abortion".
Germany was still in chaos. To shred their emotions even further, they were
mature enough to know that it was impossible for them to keep the baby.
Andy began to have some understanding of just why Franz was in such bad
shape.

"Genevieve was ok with your speaking with me?"  Andreas asked.  "Yep, she
likes you - and all her girlfriends think you're super.  They just can't
believe..." Franz stopped with a wry grin.  "Believe," Andy finished the
thought.  "Franzi, there are a number of things that can be done, but I
need to check some of them out before I can go any further.  Will you and
Genevieve trust me to make some inquiries - without ever mentioning your
names, of course - before I get back to you?  It won't take too long, and
you and I can touch bases every day.  Keep Genevieve posted."

Throwing his arms around Andy, the side of his wet, trembling face pressed
against his friend's, Franz mumbled, "How did I ever deserve a friend like
you, Andy?"

    Heinrich

When his bunkmate Franz returned to their room, Heinrich asked if Andy were
free. Heinrich slipped away as soon as Franz reported he was, walked down
the corridor, and knocked nervously on Andy's door.

"Got a minute, Andy?" he asked on entering the room.  Andreas's obviously
exhausted face peered up at him from the bed where the boy was stretched
out.  As he saw his good friend, Andy brightened and said, "What's up,
man?"

"This is a bad time, Andy?"  "Nope, you're welcome any time," Andreas
replied immediately.  Come on in and drag up a chair.  I'm going to stay
right here for a few minutes."

"Andy, I need to ask someone a serious question - and know that I'm going
to get a serious answer."  When Andy nodded encouragingly, he continued.
"Did I screw up with my 'Entertainment Night' skit?  I mean, did I go too
far?"

Turning over on his side so as to face Heinrich, Andreas focused his
somewhat tattered mental and emotional energies and replied, "No, I don't
think so.  We HAVE to be who we are, Heinrich, and we have a chance to be
just that here at DAS HAUS.  If I have any criticism, it's that you didn't
seem to have cleared everything that happened with Kurt.  He's a friend -
and he's straight.  He deserves - no, damn it, he's EARNED - the same kind
of love...and respect...that he shows us.  Not only that, but you had
friends in the audience pressure him to do something that was really
uncomfortable for him."

"Oh, man, I know, Andy, I know!  Kurt gave me the word the next morning -
and I apologized on the spot.  I'll never pull such a stunt again.  It went
WAY over the line!  I'm really ashamed, and I told Kurt so again that
night.."  Andy grinned softly and said, "That's my friend Heinrich!  Mind
if I offer a suggestion?"  (Heinrich's nod said to continue.)  "I guess all
teens face this problem, but it's especially bad for us.  We just don't get
enough - and when we do, we're usually sick of all the preparations we had
to make and all the precautions we had to take - even when we're doing
something that everybody is ok with!  I'm just suggesting that you
shouldn't let the pressure build for quite so long.  When you do, and the
opportunity to score comes around, it's too easy to let things slip out of
control.  Let me show you what I mean."

Andreas jumped off the bed, went over to his desk, and picked up an already
opened bottle of soda.  "Would you expect any great problem if I reopened
this soda, Heinrich?"  "No..." Heinrich ventured.  At that, Andy shook the
bottle and slowly pried the cork up with his fingernail.  With a loud
"pop," it few half way across the room!  "See what I mean?" Andy chortled.

"How does that apply to me, Andy?  I'm not set up like you and Sam - or
even those twerps Jaeger and Horst!  How do I keep the pressure down?
Hell, man, I'm burning up and ready to blow my top MOST of the time!"  Andy
leered and said, "Well, there's always 'Five-fingered Dietrich', but I
doubt that's the answer to the question you're asking!  No, what I'm
suggesting is that you find someone...you know...someone to whom you can
show your love and, occasionally, just have a roll in the hay.  Just think
about it, ok?"

"Yeah, ok.  (pause) Andy, can I ask you another question?"  Very tired, but
suspecting that he was about to learn the real reason why Heinrich had been
so persistent about talking with him at an obviously bad time, Andy nodded.

"Andy, what do you think of me?"  Andreas paused, thought for a moment, and
said, "Well, you're smart.  I'd hate to crash into you on the football
field..."  Heinrich interrupted, "No, Andy, I meant what do you think of
me...as a person?"  Realizing that he was fast running out of wiggle room,
Andreas leveled with him.  "So...  To tell you the truth, I think that
you're one of the most handsome guys I know, I think you've got a special
personality...bubbly, masculine, kind and, yet, sensitive, you've got a
build that makes me drool, AND you're smart and a wicked football player!
Will that do?"

"Andy, could I come over and lie down on the bed?"  "No, you have to wait a
minute."  With that, Andy got up from the bed, walked over to Heinrich, and
deliberately unbuttoned and removed his shirt.  Sensually, he ran his hands
lightly over the lad's heavy torso, even pushing down below the belt until
his fingertips grazed the top of his pubes.  The youth was as flat as a
board - a magnificently muscled board!  In a flash, his lips fastened onto
a nipple and sucked...  hard...until Heinrich yelped.  Then, raising a
heavy arm and running the wet tip of his forefinger over each superbly
defined muscle, he said, "That's just beautiful, Heinrich.  Damn!  I'm
envious.  (pause) NOW you can lie down on the bed - after, that is, you get
rid of those clothes!"  Needless to say, that didn't take long...for either
of them!

If you are fascinated by watching African specials where a 15-foot (4.6m)
crocodile has just picked a thirsty Wildebeest off the river bank, you have
the mental image that belongs to the next few minutes.  The two naked,
gloriously muscled young bodies rolled over and over in mortal combat until
it seemed that they would sink beneath their own sweat.  Aided by a few
extra pounds of muscle and a couple more years of experience, Andreas
finally managed to kneel over Heinrich's mid-section as he lay on his back.
Holding his body firmly with his knees, he thrust his hard cock into the
equally granite-like sword of his opponent and pinned his wrists back
against the bed.  "I'm not going to ask you to say, 'Give'," Andy panted,
"because I have other uses for you...better uses.  If I let you up, will
you do what I tell you to do?"  "Yeah," Heinrich panted.  "Ok, reach into
the drawer next to you and grab the lube.  Then rub some on my anus until
it opens a bit.  Then you can push some more lube up me.  Go easy.  When
you've done that, I want you to really grease your cock.  Got it?

"Andy, I can do all that, but (and he began blushing furiously) I'm...I'm
not sure I know what to do next."  Assuming his best professorial manner,
Andy whispered, "You are about to find out that it's as easy as falling off
a river bank into the water!"  "I know...I know.  Watch out for crocs!"
Heinrich muttered as he did as he had been told.  Helping the boy to
position himself, Andy's hand guided his humongous cock to his portal.  'Oh
shit, this kid is BIG,' he groaned to himself.  "Ok, Monster Meat.  You
push, you go in a little bit, you give me time to recover, and then you
begin to push in and out.  From there on, you're on your own.  Go!"  And,
do you know, it really WAS just about as easy as falling off a river bank!
And the croc that caught him really showed him what muscles were meant to
do!  Unfortunately, within all too few minutes, Heinrich's balls begin to
rise in their sack and, with a scream, his body carried by the accelerating
current was suddenly swept over the edge of Victoria Falls, plunging 328
feet (100 meters) into the gorge below.  His body, feeling spasms the likes
of which he had never previously experienced, felt as if it were being torn
apart.  Oh, but what a ride!

Lying peacefully side-by-side on their backs, a deeply satisfied Andreas
looked over at his friend.  Though his face was peaceful, even joyful,
tears were slowly trickling down his cheeks.  Andy slowly rolled over and
tenderly kissed them off.


(To Be Continued)