Date: Mon, 11 Apr 2011 08:36:47 -0600
From: michaelpete@hushmail.com
Subject: Malcolm 25

Be advised that in the following one will find graphic sexual depiction
between minors and minors and adults. The story is fiction but based on
real characters, events, places and situations. There is no relationship
between the names used and that of any real person.

Send comments to: michaelpete@hushmail.com.

Michael Peterson

MALCOLM

CHAPTER 25
Day 14

	Monday morning, they took the little boy who'd cried when Maurice
had been taken out. When his name was called, he fell on the floor and
curled up in a ball, tight as he could, shuddering violently with each
sob. They carried him out like that. I was the only one who watched them.

	Jonathan came to my bed mid-morning. I was in no mood to talk but
forced myself anyway to try and re-direct my thoughts away from that
infernal machine that had us all terrified, that I expected to be tortured
by that week.

	He wanted to know more about my sexual adventures, offering a tit
for tat with tales of what he'd done with his three boys. I told him a bit
of what had gone on at my school with Tommy and Pat and Frank and
Mitchell. Martin came to mind but served to depress more that distract me.

	Eventually, I couldn't stop myself from asking Jonathan about what
it had been like in the electric chair.

	He sucked in his bottom lip and stared at the floor. I wasn't sure
whether he was searching for words and just didn't want to talk about it.

	I asked, "How many times..."

	"Seventeen," he answered before I completed the question.

	"Why, what for?" just fell out of my mouth.

	"So I wouldn't want to have sex with boys any more."

	"But..."

	"I think they think it will scare you enough that you won't want to
do it any more. It works that way. You heard Brian and the others."

	"So when they think you're scared enough, they stop?"

	"I suppose so. They don't even talk to me any more. I haven't seen
a doctor for two months."

	"But you still like boys."

	"I didn't say that."

	"But you want to fuck me. I'm not going to say anything to
anybody."

	"I gotta finish reading my book."

	And that was that. He got up and walked to his bed though not with
the same assuredness. His head hung down, his shoulders slumped. I felt
sorry for bringing up what must have been such a terrible experience, one
that could just as easily begin anew if the doctors realized they had
failed with him. Or maybe they knew their machine was ineffective, didn't
accomplish what it was supposed to, and didn't care, just liked hurting us.

	A single man in white carried the small boy back in under his arm
and dropped him on his bed. There wasn't any sound coming from the boy but
his face was contorted as though he were crying. He curled up in a
ball. For a moment he rolled up onto his head and knees then fell back
over.

	I looked around. A few in the room were watching him but none of
the queers, except, of course, me. I was moved to go to the boy, hold him,
comfort him. But fear held me where I was. Would they hold it against me,
punish me for being kind? There had to be a reason no one ever went to be
with another who had undergone the torture of the electric machine. Guilt
flooded my mind.

	The guilt was gradually replaced by anger. The boy they had
assaulted with electricity never bothered anyone, kept to himself, merely
wished to be left alone. There was no reason to do what they were doing to
him or any of us. It accomplished nothing but terrify us.

	I looked at the table where the six known homosexuals always
gathered. All were still very effeminate, always touching one another. I
was sure, given the opportunity and the assurance there'd be no
repercussions, they'd be sucking and screwing one another with
abandon. Jonathan still wanted to fuck me after all they'd put him through.

	Even knowing how important food was to me if I wanted to ever
escape from that terrible place, I wasn't able to eat more than a few small
bites of my ham sandwich. I didn't dare drink the fruit ade.

	I tried to sleep after lunch but kept myself wide awake with a
variety of visions of what the machine looked like and what I would be
going through. Reading was impossible. I tried fantasizing the torture and
murder of my father. That distracted me occasionally but, in the end,
didn't get my mind off my impending ordeal.

	I was weak from a lack of food when they called for me Tuesday
morning. I stayed on my bed and buried my face in the pillow.

	"C'mon, Lloyd, Dr. Hein just wants to talk to you," said the man
who'd come for me.

	I followed, only half believing him. We went to the first floor but
in the opposite direction from his office into a room near the
stairs. Dr. Hein was there. So was the chair. There was no mistaking
it. There was the heavy wood, the straps, the electrical apparatus next to
it, the wires. It was laid back almost like a lawn chair.

	From where I'll never know but anger surged through me. "You
son-of-a-bitch!" I shouted.

	Hands took hold of me, powerful hands. "Let go of me you bastards!"
I yanked loose and all but jumped into the chair. I lay my arms on the
thick wooden arms. They strapped me in, arms, legs and waist, then my
head. I glared at the doctor.

	"You are angry now, Malcolm, but you vill be vewy happy when you
are normal. You vill see."

	"Fuck you!"

	'You see how you talk. You did not learn zat in your nice home or
your nice school. Zat kind of talk is from za streets where you go wis zose
bad men.'

	He sat beside me and began his tired litany of the benefits of
being heterosexual. I tuned him out and steeled myself to take what they
were going to deliver, to withstand this pain as I had that inflicted by my
father. I had survived him. I would survive these men. I would find a way
to escape and they'd all pay, but first, my father. He had to die for this.

	I hardly felt them attach something to my right thumb and
forefinger. The doctor, whose words seemed an indistinct mumble by that
time, got up and put something into another apparatus on a small table
beside me. The lights were turned out, the thing turned on. On a small
movie screen on the far wall lit up with a color photo of a pretty, naked
teen aged girl with a look of lust on her face. "Zis, Malcolm, iz vat
nature tells us ve should vant. Even you must say she iss beautiful. This
picture vill make za penis of any normal boy become vewy erect. Look at
zose zoft breasts. And imagine vat it must feel like zere between her
legs. But you, Malcolm, you vant one of zese." He removed what must have
been a transparency from the machine and replaced it with another, this one
black and white, of a teen aged boy with a raging hard on. I closed my eyes
but too late. Something shot through me, up from my hand into my chest,
like I had been hit simultaneously on all sides of my arm and shoulder with
a baseball bat and my chest filled suddenly by some strangely hard gas. It
seemed to go on for a long time though it was probably only a second or
two.

	"Isn't za young girl zo much nicer, Malcolm?" said a voice near my
ear. "Girls are normal, Malcolm, nicer than boys!"

	It happened again. I think I tried to scream but couldn't.

	The doctor spoke again, softly, directly into my ear, about the
softness and beauty and normality of girls. I vaguely felt him caressing my
chest and hair. "Relax now, you see, ve talk about girls, zo nice to hold
you ant make you feel goot. Look at her, Malcolm. Open your eyes and enjoy
her beauty. Here is another von ov her, no, it is a different girl wis
pretty blond hair, even between her legs it iz blond. Come, Malcolm, look
at her. Nothing vill happen wis such a pretty girl.

	My eyes opened of their own accord. My mind was on the pain in my
shoulder. It felt like it had come apart. I wanted to check, feel it but I
couldn't raise my hand. It took some time before I remembered the
straps. And there was the girl, staring at me, smiling slightly, like she
too had forgotten something. Why was she naked? I smiled back at her. She'd
forgotten her clothes.

	I felt the warm air of the mouth speaking into my ear. "She iz
pretty, you see?"

	The German accent brought me back to reality, to the stupid man
speaking inanities. I maintained my smile. I was supposed to appreciate the
sexuality of this creature facing me but she was just a curiosity,
different from Mary who I'd fucked twice, not as pretty really. Mary's skin
had been like a baby's. This one's looked rough compared to hers. Why would
anyone want to rub their dick against such dry looking flesh. Stupid
doctor, had he projected a photo of Mary when she was ten or eleven, that
would have been a turn on. Any one of the boys in my ward, except maybe fat
Butch, were more desirable than this sad, forgetful thing.

	I realized the voice was saying something again, something about
lips. I thought about which boys in the ward would be the best in
bed. Klaus had a nice body, more defined than most, and great lips, big
ones. Too bad he wasn't a queer like me. Still perhaps he'd enjoy a good
screw. I could lie on my back and...

	"Malcolm! Are you listening to me?" The doctor had his face in
front of mine. I hadn't noticed him there. It took a moment to realize who
he was.

	"Vat are you sinking about, Malcolm? Vat do yo sink about the young
lady in front of you."

	"Mary is prettier." It was meant as a slam. He didn't get it.

	"Mary. Who is Mary?"

	"A girl I, was with a couple of years ago." I needed to say
more. "I fucked her a couple of times. She had nicer skin." The last words
just sort of fell out.

	There was silence for a few moments. "Ah, Malcolm, you are lying to
me again."

	The pain of what came next was as much of a surprise as it was
severe. It was as though someone very powerful grabbed me by the arm or leg
and slammed me into a concrete wall except I seemed to hit it front and
back at the same time. The incredible aching was universal, throughout my
entire body, in my muscles, my joints, in indefinable places. I cried out
but there wasn't much sound. My lungs didn't seem to want to work.

	I've no idea how long they left me there and have only a scattered
recollection of being taken back to the ward. I do remember the hands that
held me up, guided me, then dropped me on my bed face down. I rolled over
and moved my arms and legs to see if they still worked and if that would
alleviate my misery. It didn't.

	At one point someone asked me if I wanted something to eat but I
didn't answer. It took too long for me to understand the question. Anyhow,
I doubt my stomach would have held anything down.

	Gradually, my thoughts centered on the fact that I'd survived, that
I could survive what they did to me, that escape was still a possibility,
revenge still there for the taking. I let hate take over. They couldn't
defeat me. I would exact retribution for whatever they did. I would kill my
father, slowly, for his responsibility for all that had gone wrong in my
life. Then, I'd come back for these bastards. They'd all pay!

	Around mid-afternoon, while most of the others were outside, I
tried to do my exercises but was still too weak though most likely from not
eating that day. Strangely, the level of pain from the jolts I'd received
wasn't affected by the workout. The energy required for what I was able to
accomplish came from the hate in my belly. I determined to eat dinner, and
every other meal, no matter what.

	At dinner, no one spoke to me. Only Marlon seemed to eye me
surreptitiously, cautiously. Jonathan kept his eyes on the book in his
lap. I did notice he didn't eat much either.

	I was called for again in the morning. My stomach was full. I'd
eaten both my breakfast and half of another boy's who'd said he wasn't
hungry. The man who came for me didn't say a word. I went without
hesitation, this time to Dr. Hein's office.

	"Zo, how do you feel today?"

	I shook my head in disgust and sat.

	"I suppose you understand now zat you must not lie to me. It is
vewy important we are honest wis one another."

	"I didn't lie."

	"Oh, Malcolm. Zat silly story about some girl named Mary..."

	"She's the cousin of a boy who lives near me. She let me do it to
her twice. It was the truth."

	He pursed his lips then started in talking to me about the negative
aspects of being a homosexual. The conversation was meaningless. I did lie
and agreed that it wasn't a good life for anyone, that everyone, me
included, was much better off heterosexual, that it would be nice to have a
wife and kids like everyone else, that men who have sex with boys are evil
destroyers.

	It was unsure whether he took any stock in my professions but it
didn't really matter. I was reverting to my old strategy of lie and
deny. Though I had no doubt they could up the ante of punishment by
inflicting greater amounts of electricity for more time, I felt confident I
could handle it. For one thing, I didn't really believe, based on what I'd
heard in the ward, that they ever actually planned on letting me
go. However, if by some remote chance they did, it would be because they
were convinced I'd changed my sexual orientation or, at least, would no
longer engage in homosexual activity.

	My goal at the time was to stay in shape as much as possible and
earn the right to get outside. Once there, I could examine possible means
of escape.

	That afternoon, Klaus stayed inside when yard was called and
rejoined me for my exercises. When I mentioned that I felt the meals I was
served weren't enough to keep up my strength, he connected me with boys who
didn't want all of the paltry meals we were served. He too ate more and
gradually improved his exercise numbers. By the following Monday, he had
managed to get his feet a foot off the floor hanging from the bed
crossbar. I was back to eleven.

	Jonathan came back to my bed the day after Klaus got back into my
exercise regime, once again warning me not to say anything to the Austrian
I wouldn't want Dr. Hein to know about. It occurred to me that Klaus might
even be a way of feeding beneficial information about myself, things that
might reduce the amount of pain I'd go through before I was able to effect
my escape.

	Jonathan also asked me never to discuss the electric treatments
with him. He said he'd managed to block them out of his mind but was still
terrified they might drag him back to that horrible room.

	Then he got back to discussing sexual escapades.

	Tuesday, day 22 of my stay at Green Haven State Hospital, Dr. Hein
turned me over to another psychiatrist, Dr. Ralph Cooper, a tall, fat man
who wore a vest under his suit jacket and carried cigars in his breast
pocket. His manner was similar enough to Dr. Hein's that I was sure he was
following a script. The only difference was the lack of a German accent and
his occasional wheezing. There were no electric sessions that week.

	However, a week later, the day after I got back to eleven leg
raises hanging off the raised bed, I was taken back to the chair and
strapped in. I tried to relax as Doctor Hein showed the picture of yet
another teen girl, this one with her legs open, her fingers splayed over
her vagina and her tongue licking her upper lip. The expression on her face
made me think of a cigarette ad in a magazine. Then he flashed two older
teen boys doing a sixty-nine. The charge he fired through me was less than
the one when he'd accused me of lying. It was still quite painful. My plan
to think about killing my father flew apart like the sparks that shot
through my body. Once again, my shoulder felt as though it had been
dislocated. I saw the separated bones in my mind and tried to concentrate
on them instead of that awful full body ache.

	He hit me twice more, following the same routine as before. But,
once again, I survived it as I knew I would. On my bed, I folded my arms
across my chest and tried to sleep, actually attaining varying degrees of
unconsciousness by fantasizing tortures I could inflict on my father when I
escaped.

	I made a point of not discussing anything regarding sex or
homosexuality with anyone, not even Dr. Cooper when he called me down
Monday morning. I guided my conversations with Jonathan to books we had
read and what and how we'd been taught in grade school.

	It was in the showers that day when I noticed Marlon with a full
erection. He was across from me with his back to the door where Mr. Shultz
stood watching. He was trying to hide the masturbation he was doing by
leaning over and back like he was washing himself. No one else seemed to
notice. I got out from under the shower and washed myself in a position
that I hoped would block Schultz's view of Marlon. It seemed to work as
Schultz showed no signs of seeing what was going on.

	However, when Marlon was called out after lunch, I worried I'd been
unsuccessful in protecting him. That was confirmed half an hour later when
he came back in the arms of two burly attendants and was tossed on his bed.

	I noticed Klaus was looking at me as I watched them bring in
Marlon. He had disappointment on his face. His attitude was subdued that
afternoon when we worked out.

	"What's wrong?" I asked him during out first set of sit ups.

	"It is very bad what they do to us with that machine, to you." He
said no more and I didn't comment. The only words the rest of the session
regarded what we were doing.

	Dr. Hein saw me again Friday afternoon and talked to me about the
men who I'd been servicing, again calling them perverts who destroyed youth
for their own lust. I sought words to agree with him and came up with,
"They'll get theirs one day."

	He seemed to like that.

	Sunday after Mass, I asked the priest if I could study to be an
altar boy. It seemed a good move. He gave me a printed card with the Latin
responses. Jonathan said he'd help. I began studying them immediately.

	Four of the boys on the ward had visitors, a record during my
relatively short 41 days there. I was certain there'd never be any for
me. It wasn't even sure my mother knew where I was. I had no doubt no one
else did. I wondered what they thought my father had done with me. Some
probably thought I was dead.

	Tuesday's session with Dr. Cooper was on my supposed propensity for
violence.

	When I said the idea was ridiculous, the doctor responded, "Didn't
you try to kill your father with a poker once, a knife another time and,
just a few weeks ago, with scissors?"

	"I was defending myself. He attacked me. And I never even had a
knife. He just said that to mother after he hit me with a chair."

	"Your father and mother say differently. Why would they do that?"

	"None of you ever talked to my mother. It's all my father's crap."

	"Your mother was here two weeks ago. I spoke to her my..."

	"Why didn't I get to see her?" I was surprised, angry, and hurt.

	"Well, Malcolm, we don't think you're ready yet, and you just
proved it by lying about what you did."

	"Was he here with her?"

	"Of course, he..."

	"She's afraid of him. That's why she said I did all that,
especially that crap about a knife. I never, he just said that." I was
boiling, and realized it so shut up before saying something that would hurt
me.

	"You look very angry right now, Malcolm. Is that how you got
whenever your father tried to discipline you?"

	I wiped my arm over my eyes like I was crying. It seemed a more
appropriate response. "Did she say I ever tried to hurt her?"

	"Well, no, but..."

	"So why can't a kid see his own mother?"

	"Malcolm, you have a long way to go yet before we can take a chance
on that. You're not ready."

	"So when am I going to be ready? I do everything you say. I don't
get in any trouble. Crap!"

	"It's not that simple, Malcolm. You have some serious problems that
we must deal with."

	I waited for him de delineate my "serious problems", and cool
myself off. I almost asked to be allowed to go outside but had planned not
to request that, just wait for it to be granted. It seemed a more secure
strategy.

	Later on in the conversation, I admitted to going after my father
with the poker but continued to deny the knife. I knew if pressed out of
sight of my father, my mother would admit to have not seen any such weapon
in my hand.

	The scissors I attributed to feeling betrayed when my father had
promised other things, which he, of course, had not. Lie and deny. I had to
admit what they could prove, deny the rest in hopes that once caught in the
simplest fabrication, my father's stories would all fall into doubt. It had
worked with Father Simons. It might work here.

	Sunday, the priest tested me on the altar boy's responses to what
he said during Mass. I knew them all perfectly even if he had to correct
some pronunciation. From years of attendance, I knew all the altar boy's
moves perfectly. He promised to try me out in a week of two.

	Monday, day forty-nine, during our exercises, which by then
everyone else ignored, Klaus seemed pensive, almost withdrawn. I said
nothing.

	Then, out of the blue during my first set of pull ups, he said in a
whisper, "Malcolm, I want to fuck you so bad. I know you like it. I am not
so big. It will feel fantastic. I am very good. You will love it."

	"You're crazy," was all I could muster while not stopping what I
was doing. Jonathan had been right, his stories about Klaus, Mr. Coulter
and Sonny all nearly verified.

	He waited until I was finished. As he got into position to do his
own work, which required me to stand where he had and hold up the bed, he
continued, "We can do it at night. Coulter will be asleep, like all the
rest in here. In the bathroom or between the beds here. No one will see. I
have some cream that is very slippery. It will feel great."

	"Just do your pull ups, Klaus. I don't wanna hear any more stupid
shit like that!'

	He was on some inner control. 'Look, you can trust me. I'm gonna
tell you something so you know. Tonight, I'm gonna suck off Coulter in the
shower room. I do it a lot and he give me things, does me favors like some
of the extra food I get, those comics I got. I can go in the bathroom and
beat off any night when he's on. And after I suck him off, he gets sleepy
and sleeps for a while. You wait up and you'll see. Please, Malcolm. It's
been almost a year since I fucked anybody and I'm going crazy. And you got
such a beautiful ass. And you're gonna love it. I'm..."

	I got on the floor and started doing leg raises, doubt about him
fucking Sonny renewed. He put the bed down and sat beside me then did the
same. "Tonight, I show you. Before I go out there, I wake you up and you
can see I tell the truth."

	"Now I know why you're here. Go hit on somebody else `cause there's
no way with me," I said shaking my head.

	Jonathan ate dinner with me on my bed. "I couldn't see all he said
but Klaus told you about him and Mr. Coulter and was asking to fuck you,
wasn't he?"

	"Yes, but I told him to forget it."

	"What else did he say?"

	"He said he hadn't fucked anyone for a year."

	"Well, I haven't been here for a year and I saw him fuck Sonny
three different times. You see, he lied."

	Someone had. However, I believed Jonathan more than Klaus. His
stories, which he must have told me ten times, had been very detailed.

	True to his word, Klaus woke me up sometime in the middle of the
night. He then crawled back to his bed, stood up and walked catlike to the
ward door. Coulter let him out without a word and disappeared into the
shower room with him. I scurried to the gate to listen. Jonathan, who'd
said he stay awake to watch with me, was already in the bathroom. For a
while there was nothing, just the sound of thirty boys sleeping. I began to
suspect it was all a con to get me to admit my true desires which Klaus
would take straight to his buddy Dr. Hein, a con even Jonathan might have
been involved in. That idea was quickly dismissed. Jonathan was far too
believable. I went quietly into the bathroom to where Jonathan watched at
the wired off window directly across from the shower room door. Klaus and
Coulter were behind the wall out of sight. Then I heard a slight smacking
sound like someone wetting his lips, or sucking a cock. Jonathan poked me
in the side.

	I strained to hear more, cupping my ear to capture just what came
from the shower room. There were more sucking sounds. A man whispered,
"Shhhh!"

	There was a brief sound of shoes shifting on the tile then silence
again. Someone behind me was snoring lightly. I used both hands to direct
my hearing to the corridor. Someone sniffed. The shoes moved again. I
dropped to the floor. Jonathan scurried back toward his bed. Foot steps
came into the corridor. The gate was opened. I crawled to the bathroom door
and peeked out. Klaus went to his bed and sat on it then noticed me. He
smiled and walked toward then past me. I watched as he went to a sink and
opened his mouth. What appeared to be sperm fell out. I got up quietly and
went to smell it, to be sure. There was no doubt.

	He rinsed his mouth out then whispered, "Let me fuck you." He
opened his hand and showed a tin of Vaseline.

	I shook my head. It was as much in sorrow as refusal. I'd have
loved to watch him pump into me.

	Klaus frowned and slid to the floor, his hard on poking up inside
his pajamas. He undid the cord, slid them down along with his
undershorts. His cock was magnificent, the first other than Marlon's I'd
seen like that in a month. And it was longer than what I expected from
seeing it soft in the shower, at least seven inches, possibly more, easily
longer than Kenny's. I was sorely tempted to wet it down with my mouth and
sit on it but paranoia helped me rein in my desires.

	Klaus began beating off. Out of desperation, I joined him. He was
obviously very experienced. His eyes were closed, his right hand wrapped
not too tightly around his cock. He moved up and down smoothly, the flesh
of his uncut foreskin sliding on and off the glans. I slowed my
ministrations when I realized I was close to cumming in only a few strokes
then slowed even more and loosed my grip when even that didn't help. Had I
allowed Klaus to screw me, I'd have gotten off long before him.

	Klaus' balls barely moved as he masturbated. I wished I could see
that beautifully formed abdomen I was sure was now more defined, taut. He
opened and closed his legs, masturbating harder and harder, then stopped,
relaxed and looked sheepishly at me. I expected another entreaty to screw
me but that wasn't what he said.

	"Malcolm, please don't be made at me," he whispered, "but I lied
about not fucking for a year. I know I can trust you so I'm gonna tell you
something. Okay?"

	I shrugged my shoulders.

	"There's a boy in the ward that I can fuck and Mr. Coulter won't
say anything, just like if you let me fuck you. You sure I can't fuck you?"

	I frowned and shook my head, all the while wishing I could trust
him, wanting that beautiful cock of his up inside me, to feel him pumping
away then firing his load up my colon. My dick got harder, closer to orgasm
just thinking about it that briefly.

	"Okay, okay. You gotta go hide so he can't see you but I'm gonna
fuck Sonny, that kid up in twenty-four. You know who I mean, okay? But I
really wanna fuck you, any time you say, okay?"

	I nodded assent and crawled up the ward until I was at Jonathan's
bed. He was under it, watching, and pulled me to him. He apparently knew
what had happened, what was going to happen. Sonny was thirteen, more the
height of a twelve year old, chunky but not at all fat with a pair of buns
almost the size of mine.

	Klaus went straight to Sonny's bed and gently shook him
awake. Without a word between them, Sonny got up and led Klaus toward the
bathroom. I was fairly sure I saw a hard on poking out beneath his pajamas.

	They went to the wall under the window to the corridor. Jonathan
and I crawled across the floor and back between beds one and two. Both boys
were out of their pajama bottoms by the time we arrived at our vantage
point.

	As Jonathan said he'd done before, Klaus opened the tin of Vaseline
and greased up that beautiful cock of his. Sonny lay on his back watching,
about four inches of nearly hairless cock sticking straight up toward the
ceiling. Klaus glanced briefly out the door, probably sure I was
watching. Sonny started to roll over but Klaus put a hand on his leg to
stop him. Klaus sat on the floor and lay back, motioning for Sonny to come
to him. The thirteen year old understood immediately and climbed over
Klaus' legs until his ass was directly over that big dong. He reached back
and directed it to his hole and sat gingerly. Then, he let go and
straightened up. After revolving his buns over the head, now pushed well up
between his fat cheeks, Sonny started down, moving his hips forward and
back as he did. Klaus' eyes closed. His hands took hold of Sonny's
thighs. Nearly eight inches of teen cock slipped seemingly effortlessly
into Sonny's plump rear end. I was stiff as a door post.

	Jonathan's leg went over my hip. He pushed against me from
behind. I wanted to push him away but was far too interested in the scene
in the bathroom to do more than raise my hand.

	Sonny wiggled his ass some more then took hold of Klaus' arms and
pulled him up. Klaus wrapped his arms around Sonny and lifted his face to
the young lips coming his way. They kissed deeply while Klaus began
thrusting upward. The shiny shaft was visible on the down stroke then
disappeared as it was pushed up inside Sonny's hole.

	Jonathan put an arm around me and pulled us tightly together, his
hard on poking me in the right bun. His hand slid down the front of me
until it reached my crotch, found its way inside my pajamas and briefs to
my bulging cock where he gently massaged the shaft.

	Sonny lifted up, letting Klaus cock all but come out of him. He
released Klaus lips and slid back down, leaning back to get as much inside
as he could. After a couple of short thrusts forward, he did it again. That
time, Klaus pushed up as Sonny sat down. There was a slight smacking sound
as hips met ass cheeks. I wanted a dick up my ass more than I ever had
before.

	I quickly untied my pajama string and pushed down the
bottoms. Quietly as I could in a rush, I rolled over and slipped down to
Jonathan's crotch where I sucked in more cock than I'd thought he
had. Leaving it soaked, I turned back over and presented my hole for
puncturing. Jonathan expertly found it with his fingers and pushed his
three and a half inches as deep inside as he could. With my eyes back on
Sonny sliding up and down on Klaus beautiful shaft, I reached back and
urged Jonathan to get to fucking. He did, slowly, with brief pauses between
thrusts. I knew he wanted to prolong the first fuck he'd had in the better
part of a year. I was in no hurry either.

	Sonny stopped working and went back to kissing, allowing Klaus to
push into him from the floor, forcing their mouths apart each time he
reached top. Jonathan had been right, he had to be punching Sonny's bladder
each time he pumped full into him.

	Jonathan reached down again and took hold of my cock. He must have
realized how easily he could have taken me to climax because he just
kneaded it like soft dough.

	Klaus yanked Sonny to him and shoved his cock its full length hard
into him. I could almost see the pulses and he fired his sperm up into the
younger boy's belly. I suddenly worried what I'd do with mine when it fired
out as it was shortly to do. I put my hand near it to close off the tip
when the time came, very unsure if the smelly liquid could be contained.

	While Klaus and Sonny embraced and exchanged saliva, Jonathan
jammed in harder, holding himself inside longer each time. His hand at my
cock moved to the base of my shaft and my balls. He tried to reach back
further, probably to feel his shaft going in and out but couldn't. Then he
came. His legs shuddered against mine.

	Klaus pushed Sonny upward until his gleaming shaft came out of the
boy then, one hand on the head of his cock, took Sonny's needy tool into
his mouth. Sonny came almost immediately. His hands clutched at Klaus back
and head.

	Jonathan whispered in my ear, 'Wait'. He pumped in and out of me a
few times, kissing my shoulder passionately, then relaxed and pulled out. I
knew what he planned to do the moment he pulled me flat on the floor. He
slid down my body and dropped his mouth over my cock. The feeling was
incredible. The damp heat, the slipperiness of his lips and tongue made me
feel as though I would faint. Rather than go up and down, he took in all he
could and slowly moved his head around and around. I lost sight of Sonny
and Klaus. Lights went off and on in my head, almost like those brought on
by the electricity Dr. Hein fired through me. I shot stream after stream of
my sperm into Jonathan's mouth. He embraced my hips. I was sure it was the
first time he'd ever had cum in his mouth but wasn't concerned whether or
not he liked it.

	We waited for Sonny and Klaus to clean up. Jonathan kept my cock in
his mouth until it softened.

	Later, in the bathroom, Jonathan checked to see that Mr. Coulter
was asleep. He was. Jonathan gave his teeth a good brushing. I wiped my
ass.

	In the morning before breakfast, Jonathan said, "Thank you" but
nothing more of the previous night's events.

	I was worried someone had seen some of what had gone on and half
expected one or all of us to be hauled off to the chair for a painful
punishment. But, it was two others who got the treatment that morning, one
of the queer group and the sad little boy again. This time, when he
returned all devastated, I couldn't stay away from him.

	I went to his bed where he lay curled in a tight fetal position. I
sat and caressed his head. He was shivering. I pulled his blanket up over
him and whispered, "I'm sorry. I wish they wouldn't hurt you like this."

	There was no response. I sat with him until lunch.

	"Do you want to eat anything?" I asked.

	He shook his head, the first indication that he knew I was there.

	I went to eat with Jonathan who'd been re-reading Gibbons.

	"You shouldn't do that. They'll think you are thinking about doing
something sexual with him. They think everything we do has something to do
with sex. They probably think reading a history book has something to do
with sex. God, that was good last night. You liked it too, didn't you?"

	I smiled then asked, "That's the first time you ever had cum in
your mouth, isn't it?"

	He smirked, paused, then answered, "Not exactly. I had to do
Michael and Timmy's older brother a few times so he wouldn't tell. He was
fifteen. Your stuff tasted better than his. His was pretty bad."

	"I'll bet Mr. Coulter's cum is really horrible but Klaus doesn't
seem to mind. I always tried to get my customer's cock into the back of my
mouth and swallow like crazy as soon as I knew they were going to
shoot. Klaus kept it in his mouth all that time until he came into the
bathroom. Yeuuch!"

	Jonathan looked at me, curiosity on his face. "Did you like doing
that, putting those hairy old cocks in your mouth?"

	"Mostly not but some of the younger ones weren't so bad, even some
of the others, unless they really big," I smiled, 'or really small and
hairy."

	"I don't like them to have any hair, just on their heads, no where
else."

	"But you did me and I've got hair, plenty of it."

	It was his turn to smile. "I want to fuck you again, too."

 	Wednesday morning, it was back to the chair. Dr. Hein seemed
perturbed with me. I was concerned Klaus had said something about us
masturbating together.

	"Dr. Cooper doesn't sink you are making any progress, Malcolm. Vy
is zat?"

	I had no idea what he wanted for an answer. "What am I supposed to
do?"

	"You are acting here like zis is nosing. You are being friendly
always wis za osser queers in za ward. Vy do you do zat?"

	"They are the only ones, wait, I talk to Jonathan and Klaus and who
am I supposed to talk to? Most of them don't talk to anybody or are crazy
and you can't talk to them."

	The jolt slammed me into the chair or the chair into me. It was
hard to tell which. As my brain re-oriented itself, I found I was
completely confused by Dr. Hein's questions and reaction to my answer.

	"You sink I don't know about Jonathan?"

	"Jonathan? All we talk about is books and school."

	He hit me again. My arm and shoulder felt like they'd been crushed
and were coming apart.

	"No! You talk about sex. Yu sink ve are not watching you but ve
are. Ve see how you talk all by yourselves, touching each osser."

	"We never touch each other. Anybody who said that..."

	Another shock. The pain was the worst I'd felt. It took several
minutes for me to partially regain my senses. That told me not to say
anything. Every time I spoke, there was electricity.

	"You must not talk to Jonathan. You must not talk to zos
queers. You must only talk to boys who are not queers. You must learn to do
as you are told. Do you understand?"

	I nodded.

	Dr. Hein walked out. I was dragged back to the ward.

	Later that afternoon when Jonathan came to me at my bed where I was
trying to do some simple exercises using only my legs, I told him, "I'm not
supposed to talk to you. Somebody must have seen us."

	He sat dejected for a few moments then shrugged his shoulders, got
up and walked away.

	I'd been trying to figure out who could have said something. The
obvious persons were Klaus and Mr. Coulter but that didn't make any
sense. I saw them, well, heard them. But I saw the cum in Klaus' mouth,
smelled it. It was unmistakably sperm. There'd probably been enough light
coming from the bathroom for someone whose eyes was accustomed to the dark
to have an idea what Jonathan and I had been doing under that bed,
especially when he sucked me. It could have been any one of the boys
sleeping near there.

	But, the doctor hadn't mentioned anything about actually having
sex. He'd said we'd touched each other. Anyone who had seen us under the
bed might have mistaken some of what we did but couldn't have missed
Jonathan's face in my crotch, or, before that, mine in his.

	Someone had lied or Dr. Hein had made the touching business up. But
why? In fact, the day's session hadn't made much sense from the
beginning. The thought that began to take shape in my mind was that he
wanted to keep me away from Jonathan or merely wanted to isolate
Jonathan. Perhaps it had nothing to do with me at all but was in reality
directed against Jonathan. No one in the ward seemed to like him. Maybe
Dr. Hein didn't either.

	Then there was the fact that he didn't even mention Klaus who was
with me a lot too. Was that because the Austrian was his informer? If he
was, then it seemed likely he not only knew of the sex Klaus was having,
possibly including that with Mr. Coulter, but allowed if not approved it.

	As usual on days when I'd been zapped, as the ward called it, Klaus
didn't come to do my exercises with me. My upper body hurt too much to do
anything more than leg raises, squats and about ten minutes of legs only
jumping jacks.

	Thursday, however, he was back right after breakfast. Since
Mr. Coulter was working mornings six to two in the afternoon, it wasn't
going to be for sex.

	"'You feel better today? You look very bad yesterday."

	"I'm okay."

	"'We can do exercises today, you and me?"

	"I suppose so."

	By the afternoon, I was deeply into planning my escape. Clothes
seemed the most essential item though a lone, unknown teenager walking the
roads would certainly be suspect even if the hospital staff wasn't
looking. I could do without food for a couple of days though I would need
water which could probably be found somewhere in the forest or at a faucet
or well near a barn or other farm outbuilding. I needed to get to a
payphone and make a call to Bobby to arrange a pickup. That meant I had to
find out exactly where I was before making that call. That would require
finding some kind of road markers. Of course, all that meant I had to find
a way of getting away from the hospital. I'd only get one shot at it. A
failed escape attempt would mean secure lock up, probably in the type of
room where I had spent my first week a month and a half earlier.

	The plan that was forming was built around the proximity of
Dr. Hein's and Dr. Coopers' offices to the main door to the outside. I'd
noticed people walking in and out as though it wasn't locked, at least
during the day. Each time I passed that way, there had been no one between
me and those double doors. If I could get a couple of steps on the man with
me, I had a chance of getting through them. Then it would be a matter of
out running any pursuers until I could get well into the woods around the
hospital grounds. From the windows of the ward, they seemed to be quite
deep. That run would require me to be in very good shape. That meant
increasing my stamina exercises like the jumping jacks and eating
well. Klaus friendship ensured that. Thanks to him, I was receiving
leftovers from three other boys, food that often included meat and almost
always vegetables.

	Regarding clothes, I had two ideas. First was to use the arts and
crafts material to make a cardboard pads for my slippers so I could run
over the sharp sticks and stones I would most certainly encounter in the
forest. I might also attempt some kind of dark cover so the slippers would
appear, at least in the distance, to be shoes. My second thought involved
the black cassocks I'd seen in the closet of the chapel sacristy. There was
one about my size which could be used to make me harder to see at night
when I planned to travel.

	Klaus joined me the moment I started in stretching. However, he
wasn't up to more than a few minutes of the jumping jacks I did for
twenty-two minutes according to the wall clock by the ward door. I was
dripping sweat when I asked him to hold the bed while I did pull ups. He
snapped the bed up enthusiastically. The entire workout lasted nearly two
hours with short breaks. Talk was only about what we were doing. That
changed afterward.

	"Around midnight, Mr. Shultz sleeps. Sometime he no wakes up until
Mr. Coulter comes on. We can do some sex between the beds here. No one can
see us. Is very dark here. You like how I fuck Sonny, yes?"

	"Jesus, Klaus. I'm not like Sonny. I don't do that kind of stuff."

	Klaus frowned and sighed. "Please, Malcolm. I know you will like
this very much. I let you fuck me first if you want. Anything you want. You
just tell me. I want so much to fuck you. I do anything you say."

	That set my brain into gear. But I needed time to think.

	"I wanna read now. Anyhow, it's almost time for dinner."

	The desperation on Klaus' face was real enough. He wasn't doing all
that begging just to get information on me for Dr. Hein. Klaus wanted to
get that big cock of his up my ass and was willing to go to great lengths
to accomplish it. I wondered if there was something valuable enough he
could provide that would make the risk worth it.

	After dinner alone, I sat on my bed with 'The Age of Fighting Sail'
by C.S. Forester, a book on the war of 1812 I'd not read before coming to
the hospital. However, I didn't actually read any of the pages I was
turning. My mind was on possible tradeoffs with Klaus that would allow him
to have the screw he so desperately wanted and me something that would aid
in my escape.

	Dr. Hein had brought him over from Germany some five years earlier
making Klaus eleven at the time. What could Klaus have done for a respected
psychiatrist to want to drag him across the ocean to a new country and job
then stick him for all these years in a lock down ward of a mental
hospital? Granted, it appeared that Klaus could come and go as he
pleased. All he had to do was go to the gate and ask to be let out. There
was never any hesitation on the part of any of the three
attendants. Nonetheless, the doctor would have needed a very good reason to
justify doing so. And, why did Klaus seem to accept it? And what about
Mr. Coulter? Rumor had it that he came on board at the same time Dr. Hein
took over the institution. Jonathan had thought he'd heard Klaus and
Mr. Coulter speaking in German. Coulter wasn't a German name but he could
have learned the language in the military. He was an apt age at
thirty-eight or so to have served in the war.

	Was there some blackmail material there I could use to get at least
Mr. Coulter to aid or abet my escape?

	First, I needed to know why Klaus was there in the hospital. What
had he done back in Germany or Austria to still be locked up? He did leave
the ward once a week for an appointment with a doctor though we never knew
which. If he was receiving electric shock treatment, it must have been very
mild as he always returned to the ward looking as fit as he left. There was
no indication he was on any kind of medication though it was possible. What
was he being treated for and why was it taking so long? Other than his
enormous sex drive, he seemed fairly normal. He was friendly with everyone,
never got in fights or even quarrels. The sex could be attributed to his
age. Teenagers were horny creatures no matter what they liked.

	Whether he was homosexual or not was a very unsettled matter. He in
no was effeminate. He could well have been sucking off Mr. Coulter for the
reason he stated: it allowed him food, comics and free sex.

	By the time he came for our workout at two thirty the next
afternoon, I was ready with some questions which I spread out over the next
couple of hours.

	First, still sitting after stretching, before jumping jacks: "The
truth, Klaus, why are you here?"

	He grinned then countered, "You tell me first then I promise to
tell you."

	"I told you. I was arrested and my father got pissed."

	"But why you were arrested? You did not tell me that."

	"I was hustling, being a male prostitute for money."

	Klaus had to put that together, but couldn't. "What is that? I
don't know husting or prossute, what?"

	"I did to men what you do to Mr. Coulter for money."

	He smiled. "Ah, yes, and they fuck you too, yes?"

	"Sometimes. But I only did it a few times and always for the
money."

	"So you want something from me so I can fuck you?"

	"No, I just want to know why you are here. I told you about me now
you tell me about you."

	He pressed his lips together and stared at his knees. "Is like they
think. I killed somebody but they were bad."

	"Then why are you still locked up?"

	He flexed his jaw a couple of times and said quietly, "I tell you
but it is our secret. None of them know about this but I will tell you
because you are my friend." It was the first time he'd used that word with
me.

	Germany is not like United States. They just said I killed someone
so I must be killed too. I was only eight. I had no money for a
lawyer. What could I do?"

	"What about your family? Couldn't they get you a lawyer?"

	"The one I killed... You see, my father was a soldier and the
Russians they blow up my father's leg so he can't work a good job. He was
doing something answering telephones but he was drunk too much so they made
him go away from that. So my mother work but she make only a little
money. Still, my father is drunk. And when he is drunk, he hurt us and my
mother sometimes. And he still have his gun from the army. One night he is
hitting my mother because she has no more money for him to drink. I got the
gun and told him to stop. He said he will kill me for point the gun at
him. He take the gun in his hand and pull. My finger was on the part shoot
gun. I kill him. The bullet go into his neck. He fall down and don't
move. I run away but they get me."

	Klaus's English seemed to fall apart as he went along. He didn't
seem sad or repentant, just lost, seeking words.

	"But it wasn't your fault. Didn't your mother tell them that?"

	"I don't know. I never see my mother again, just my uncle when they
put me in hospital for crazy people. He talk to Dr. Hein and say I must
stay. Dr. Hein tell me, told me that I am in the hospital because it is
better than they kill me, execute me, and he will help me so I never want
to kill any more people. We exercise now."

	I did twenty-seven minutes of jumping jacks. Klaus was worn out
after three and watched. About halfway through, he asked, "Why do you want
to do this so much?"

	"They won't let me outside to run," I panted. "This is the closest
thing to it."

	"Why do you want to run? You think you run away from this place?"
He was smiling but it was forced.

	I thought quickly for an acceptable reply. "No, it just makes me
feel good all day. This makes me feel good too. I can't talk any more until
I'm done."

	He frowned and let me finish.

      After walking off the stiffness, we did pull ups and push ups.

	As we rested after the pushups, Klaus asked, "Why did you let those
men fuck you? Why not just suck them?"

	"They pay more for that. It was a business for me. I wanted the
money." That sounded like something I could say directly or indirectly to
Dr. Hein.

	"Were their cocks as big as mine?" The smile that accompanied that
question was genuine.

	"Just one. I only did it with four." Another answer adequate for
transmittal.

	"Did it hurt?"

	I knew where he was going. "Klaus, I don't want to get fucked. Pick
up the bed."

	While I was near the end of my first set of pull ups, Klaus leaned
in close and said, "I fuck better than those men. You will love it with
me."

	I just shook my head and kept pulling.

	Klaus brought his dinner to my bed. Thinking about it, I realized
that Klaus didn't seem to have any more friends than Jonathan. Many of the
others would talk to him. None showed any animosity. But, none showed any
sustained interest in conversing with him. I assumed his known close
relationship with Dr. Hein precluded trust, made him somewhat of a
pariah. There were plenty of worrying signs like his freedom to come and go
from the ward. I wondered why he even stayed in this tightly controlled
situation. I asked him about it.

	"It is better here. You think there are crazy boys in here. You
must see what is in the other wards. Anyhow, they are all men, not many
boys our age. And here it is much safer for me."

	"Safer? Who's going to hurt you here?"

	"What if the government men come and try to take me back to German
to kill me? I can run back to the ward. They can't get in here."

	That sounded paranoid. Perhaps that was why Klaus was in the
hospital. Maybe he didn't kill anyone, just thought he did. Still, I asked,
"Who told you that? No one's going to come after you for something that
happened in another country when you were eight."

	"You see, Malcolm, you don't know them. You don't know how Dr. Hein
had to hide me so they couldn't get me. In Germany, they don't let anybody
go. If you kill someone, they will kill you. It is the law there and the
police are everywhere."

	That sounded like something out of a science fiction book. "But
they can't come here. This isn't Germany. This is the United States,
another country. They don't execute children here."

	As I was saying it, the near absurdity of what I said under the
circumstances almost made me laugh. However, the near laughter quickly
became anger. "Well, they're not supposed to."

	Klaus stared at me for a moment. "Why are you mad at me?"

	"I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at them, and my father. Why am I here?
I didn't do anything all that bad. I sure didn't hurt anybody. They've
ruined my education, everything. And they never let you out of
here. Sons-of-bitches!"

	"You see? They are bad here too. That is why I stay here, to be
safe."

	I tried again to convince Klaus that at least they didn't execute
children in the United States and I didn't believe they would in Germany
either. While I spoke, my mind was crisscrossed by questions about why
Dr. Hein had brought Klaus to America with him and had told him he would be
killed for a tragedy that certainly wasn't his fault. Of course, most of
that hung on how much of what Klaus was telling me was the truth and how
much he had imagined, or been conned into believing.

	After eating, Klaus begged again for a shot at my buns then went
off frustrated. I wondered if Sonny was going to get a full night's sleep.

	My plan was to read and sleep but my curiosity got the better of
me. After an hour or so, I went to a table where Klaus was, by himself,
attempting a water color painting of a window. At least the lines were
straight and well measured.

	He smiled as I sat beside him. "You want to paint too?"

	"Uh, no. I just wanted to talk. Keep painting."

	He described how he'd measured the window with string then folded
the string in half three times then marked the paper with the proper
dimensions. I edged into what was on my mind.

	"Did Dr. Hein teach you how to do that?"

	"No, I think how to measure things. But Dr. Hein showed me how to
mix colors. See the sky how it is?"

	"Yeah, neat. How many times a week do you see Dr. Hein?"

	"Not that much. Maybe one time a week. You see him more. I wish he
don't hurt you but he says that it will make all queers better and they all
thank him after when they get married."

	"Is Dr. Hein married?"

	"He was back in Germany but his wife won't come to the United
States. He has many children but they are big like me, bigger."

	I tried to be diplomatic about the thrust of what I really wanted
to know. "Do you and he ever get to do what you do with Mr. Coulter."

	Klaus didn't look up, just kept his eyes on his brush
strokes. "No. No, he never wants to do anything like that." He sounded
sincere enough.

	I followed with, "But you are like me, and Marlon, at least in
sex." He started shaking his head and continued as I went on. "You suck
Mr. Coulter and fuck boys. You said I could fuck you.'\"

	"No, Malcolm. You are wrong. I just like what it feels like to
fuck. I do Mr. Coulter because he helps me a lot. Anyhow, there are no
girls here, just boys, you see?" He waved his hand at the room.

	I had a group of questions prepared and went to the next. "So how
old were you when you first started doing sex?"

	"Fucking boys? Just here when I am twelve." His English was better
than he'd just used.

	"And Mr. Coulter?"

	He looked up with mock irritation. "Why you asking me all this,
Malcolm? You going to let me fuck you tonight?"

	"Maybe, if you tell me the truth."

	"I always tell the truth. Ask me something."

	"How old were you when you first sucked someone's cock?"

	The wheels turned. Was he calculating time or damage control.

	"I tell you this, the truth and I fuck you, yes?"

	"Not just this. Other things too but I'll never tell anybody else
what you say. I promise and you know I'm no snitch."

	He took a breath and leaned over his painting which put him closer
to me. "Eight. You see, I tell the truth."

	"Who?"

	He turned that over. "You don't know him. It was in Germany."

	"It was Dr. Hein, wasn't it?"

	He frowned. "No, another man."

	"Why did you suck him? The truth."

	Again, he paused. "He protected me from the police."

	"But that was Dr. Hein."

	"No, Malcolm." He waved his finger. "That is before I know
Dr. Hein."

	"Did he fuck you?"

	"Tssk. I was very small. He was a nice man. He didn't do that."

	"Did he put his between your legs?"

	"Yes, sometimes."

	"And did he suck on yours too?"

	"Of course. That is fair, no?" answered Klaus as though I'd asked a
silly question.

	"Did he introduce you to Dr. Hein?"

	"Yes. He took me to the hospital where Dr. Hein worked. He was the
boss there."

	"Did the other man visit you there?"

	"Of course." Again the look. "He was my friend too and he liked
me."

	"Did you still have sex?"

	"You are going to like me fucking you because now you must let me
but it will be very good. Yes, we still had sex, a lot."

"Did Dr. Hein know?"

	"No."

	"Then how did you do it so he wouldn't find out?"

	"We just close my door and put the lock. I have my own room, see?"

	"So what did this man say when Dr. Hein wanted to bring you here?"

	"He was very sad but he came here three times."

	There was a slight hint on Klaus' face that he wished he hadn't
mentioned those three visits.

	"And Dr. Hein never knew what you two were doing?"

	"No, he will be very angry."

	I needed a bit more but Klaus quickly turned the conversation into
a prep session on how much I was to enjoy his dick up my ass. But, I wasn't
through yet.

	"Why doesn't Dr. Hein want me to talk to Jonathan?"

	That was a curve ball Klaus wasn't prepared for. "Jonathan is a
queer!"

	I looked at him calmly. It gradually occurred to him that his
answer revealed knowlege he shouldn't have had. No boy in the ward other
than Jonathan after I told him should have known I'd been told to stay away
from my only real friend there. Equally revealing was the emotion in Klaus'
voice when he answered.

	"You can't fuck me until Dr. Hein says I can be with Jonathan."

	"Oh, no. You said if I tell you the truth, I can fuck you."

	"I don't think you told me the truth, at least not all of it."

	I didn't count on the fury my demand would produce.

	He crumpled the paper he'd be so carefuly painting on and hissed,
"Then I tell Dr. Hein I see you fucking Jonathan, no, I see you sucking
Jonathan. So, tonight, I fuck you but it will still be good for you. You
like getting fucked, queer."

	He stood and went to the gate, asked for and was given permission
to leave the ward. Only he he could do that.

	I cursed myself at the gross miscalculation of Klaus' relationship
with me, and what had seemed to me to be a more sedate
personality. Strangely enough, Klaus was accustomed to getting what he
wanted. I was to be screwed that very night by perhaps the longest cock to
ever enter me.

	It happened just after midnight. I hadn't been able to sleep so was
awake when Klaus walked quietly up to my bed and held up the open tin of
Vaseline to my nose. Mr. Shulz had his back to us and was reading a
newpaper in his lap, or was asleep. I suspected the latter.

	Klaus snatched the pillow from under my head and dropped it to the
floor. He kneeled between my bed and the empty one in the corner. Moonlight
lit up the outline of his hard cock as he pushed down his pajamas. He
wasn't wearing briefs.

	I let him pull me off my bed and open the drawstring on my pajamas.

	"Take them off," he ordered in a whisper as he did the same with
his.

	I obeyed. He guided me to lie across the pillow he doubled up. I
could smell the ointment he was spreading on his cock then felt his cold
fingers spread some more between my cheeks. His hands came down on either
side of my ribs. He crawled forward until his dickhead was pressing its way
between my buns. I heard the cover of the tin queezed back on.

	"Put it on your hole," he said. "Don't worry, I go slow."

	Again, I obeyed, placing the head at my pucker, trying to relax to
make the entry easier on me. It had been a while since anything of size had
been through that portal.

	He poked forward, the same as I'd seen him do with Sonny. There was
a spike of pain that disapated quickly. The head was inside me. After a few
seconds, maybe ten, he started forward, sliding in slowly. I readied myself
to move my hips to get him past the entry to my colon. He reached my
prostate. It was a good feeling, a very good feeling having something there
again. I began to feel better about what was going on.

	He didn't stop his forward motion, slipped deeper and deeper
inside. Still, I didn't feel even the heat of his pelvis nor a tickle of
pubic hair. There was a lot to go. He arrived at the bend. I moved my hips
back and forth. There was a brief moment of discomfort, no more, then the
great feeling of a long cock pushing its way though my rectum and up into
my gut.

	Pubic hair touched then pressed itself against my buttocks. His
body pressed against mine. He pushed harder, gaining another quarter inch
or more, then lay on top of me, his mouth at my ear.

	"Good, no? Tell the truth."

	I wasn't going to do that. "Just fuck me."

	"Stupid queer."

	He withdrew nearly as slowly as he'd entered then pushed a bit
faster back inside. I was sure he wasn't doing it out of concern for what I
felt. He wanted this to go on as long as possible. To be honest, so did I.

	Each time he made full depth, he gave a little push, getting that
last bit of shaft into the heat of my ass. I was sure he was reaching well
up beside my bladder.

	He got up on his arms again and thrust with his hips, making a soft
smacking cound as he reached home. Then, possibly to keep it more quiet, he
lay on me again, his weight pressing me onto the cold floor, and pumped
slowly in and out. With each thrust, his nose breathed short puffs of hot
air against my ear. My cock, tight against the doubled over but thin
pillow, was a hard as the concrete in the floor. I worried I'd cum all over
the pillow.

	Klaus didn't increase his rate, just kept it steady, relishing the
prolonged ecstacy of his cock sliding back and forth inside me. I wondered
if he noticed a difference between Sonny's smaller and possibly tighter
hole and mine. He didn't seem to be enjoying it any less. I knew I
shouldn't have been pleased about effectively being raped but was happy to
have this big dong pushing around inside me. I breathed hard to avoid a
messy orgasm.

	Klaus pushed his hands under my shoulders, as Freddy had always
done, and pushed for more depth. I felt his stomach muscles tighten. His
fingers dug into my flesh. The thrusts became harder. I felt him expand. He
grunted when the first stream of cum fired out of his balls into my
colon. His pulses spread my anus. It felt fantastic. I was going to want to
do this again.

	Three times he pulled almost completely out and shoved back
inside. It wwasn't nearly as pleasant as the fucking had been. He was
probably sending me a message of his power over me.

	Then, slowly, he pulled free. "Turn over."

	I turned over.

	His mouth went immediately onto my cock, his lips almost down to my
pubic hair. The feeling was incredibly titillating. The third time he went
down, I shot sperm into his gullet. He stayed still as I unloaded weeks of
built up scum into his mouth, I could feel him swallowing it. He didn't let
go until I was soft, every drop of cum in his stomach.

	He spit out my cock and leaned to my face. "I am fair, no?"

	Klaus handed me a wad of toilet paper and pointed toward the
bathroom. "Shultz is sleeping," he whispered.

	He used soap and water to clean up his limp cock. I waited until he
had left to flush the toilet paper evidence. It sounded incredibly loud.

	Klaus came to eat breakfast with me. He had his humble face on.

	"Malcolm, I am sorry about what I said yesterday. I'll never say
bad things about you to Dr. Hein. You are my friend. I'll talk to him
Monday so you can be with Jonathan again. I fuck good, no?"

	I wasn't about to admit how much I enjoyed what he'd done. I chewed
on the cold, cardboardlike toast and fiddled with my watery scrambled eggs.

"`And I was fair, too. I sucked you good, too. You come very fast. Next
time I will make it longer. I am good sucking too."

	I continued to eat.

	"You can ask me more questions if you want. Anything. I know I can
trust you."

	That turned my mind back on. I hit him with a hard one.

	"Is Mr. Coulter really a German?"

	Once again. It was far from what he expected. He was silent for a
while. He moved closer to me then asked, "I can fuck you again?"

	That was easy but I had to play the game. "Tell the truth."

	Klaus took a breath. "Yes, he is German, but he grows here."

	"But he came to work here when Dr. Hein took over."

	"He was a officer, in the army, I think. He worked where Dr. Hein
was in the war. But, you must never say this to anyone. They will be very
angry."

	I had a thought. "Was Mr. Coulter the man who took you in after,
what happened in Germany when you were eight?"

	"No. I meet him after I know Dr. Hein. All I know is they work in
the same place in the war. Dr. Hein was in the army too. He did work on
homosexuals there too."

	That sent a chill down my spine. It sounded very much like the two
of them had worked in one of the extermination camps I'd read and heard so
much about. Was Dr. Hein another Dr. Josef Mengele? Had he done horrible
experiments on homosexuals? What he was doing in the hospital certainly
couldn't be called anything but experimental as, from all I'd seen and
experienced, it didn't work.

	I asked, "Did they work in a concentration camp?"

	"What is that?"

	His question was as much a surprise to me as my first question had
probably been to him. However, if he'd been just seven or eight at the end
of the war, had been held hidden away since, and didn't read very well as I
suspected, it was very possible he'd never have heard of those terrible
places.

	"It was where they put Jews and homosexuals and gypsies. They
murdered millions of them."

 	"No, that is just a story. Dr. Hein told me never to believe
that. The Jews just said that to hurt the German people so everybody would
be angry at them. All lies."

	It seemed prudent to leave that as it was. It seemed unlikely he
would believe anything I said after years of hearing the opposite from the
man he saw as his protector, his substitute father.

	"Malcolm," he said quietly, "we do it again tonight? I was very
good, yes."

	"Maybe tomorrow. My ass needs time to rest."

	Okay. Okay. Tomorrow night."

	Another thought hit me. "Where do you get the Vaseline?"

	"Mr. Coulter buy it for me. All I want." He smiled.

	I smiled back. "Does he ever fuck you?"

	"No, he just likes me to suck him. No evidence after, I think. No
Vaseline or anything. He is a very smart man. He was a officer."

	"Then why does he work here?"

	Klaus shrugged his shoulders. "Tonight, maybe I fuck Sonny. You
want to watch? I bring him here by your bed. We do it here. You can fuck
him too. You want? I tell him and he will do it. He doesn't talk so he
won't tell anybody." He acted as though that was funny.

	I thought it was sad, unless, of course, Sonny liked it. "No, I
need to sleep." And I sure as hell didn't want anyone else knowing what I
was doing.

	I asked, "Why doesn't Sonny talk? They say he talked when he came
here.'

	Another shrug of the shoulders.

	Sunday morning, I went to Mass with Jonathan. As we walked behind
the attendant, after checking there was no one behind us, I patted him on
the rear end. We smiled at each other but didn't speak.

      In the sacristy, we had a few moments to talk while the priest heard
a couple of confessions.

      I told him, "I think Klaus was the one who told Dr. Hein to keep us
apart. He sort of raped me last night. I had to because he said he'd tell
Dr. Hein he saw me sucking you."

      "Good grief. Then he might want to fuck me too."

      "I don't think so. He trusts me and Sonny but I don't think he trusts
anyone else. And he didn't say anything except that tomorrow he's going to
talk to Dr. Hein so we can be together again. I miss talking to you." I
almost told him about Mr. Coulter but backed off for fear he might say
something while in the electric chair.

      "So, you want to do something at night?"

      He was as horny as Klaus, maybe as dangerous. It worried me that he
asked. "Better wait and see if Klaus can get Dr. Hein to back off. Then
we'll see."

      The priest said that only one of us could serve. Jonathan suggested I
do it. It was my first time ever. I knew the responses well enough and was
fairly sure of what to do and when to do it.

	Jonathan helped me button my red cassock, reaching in to feel my
cock in the process. It gave me an immediate hardon.

	I tried to figure a way to grab one of the black cassocks at the
end of Mass and get it back to the ward.

	During Mass, I noticed the attendant wasn't there, just other
patients. Perhaps it was an opportunity to examine.

	Sunday afternoon, Klaus went outside with the others. I slept,
taking a day off from my workout, knowing my sleep would be interrupted.

	Klaus came by at roughtly the same time as before. Sex was even
gentler, nicer. He was nearly as good a fuck as Robert, maybe better
considering the length of his dong. Those long strokes were wonderful.

	He sucked my balls before my dick, giving my juices time to recede,
enabling a much longer fellation. He kept his mouth very loose and went up
and down and around slowly. Still, I was very hot from the great fucking
I'd just received. It couldn't have taken more than a couple of minutes
before I shot my sperm down his throat.

      Again, he stayed on me until I was soft and the last drop had come
out. Then, in a surprise move, he gave me a kiss on the cheek before
heading boldly off to the bathroom. I waited until he was finished before
going to dump the toilet paper.

      Dr. Hein didn't see me until the afternoon on Monday. At least, it
was in his office, not the chair.

      `Zo, you haf been a gut boy since our last talk.'

      It took him a while and a lot of platitudes about praying for God to
help me clean my mind of sinful homosexual thoughts. Since Jonathan and I
were both altar boys and going to Mass every Sunday, perhaps it would be
okay for me to be with him but not the rest of the "queers".

      Jonathan got the same message from another doctor who was seeing him
while I was with Dr. Hein.

      We had dinner together but avoided touching.

      Wednesday afternoon, any thoughts I had about relief from the so
called treatments came crashing down as I was returned to the
chair. Dr. Hein was almost gratious in his descriptions of the virtues of
naked pretty teen girls and the evils of the two young men pictured fucking
each other. He never once raised his voice while he gave me four body
wracking jolts that made me a physical wreck and precluded any exercise
routine at all that day.

      Klaus had planned on fucking me that night but relented. In fact, he
didn't approach me that evening.

	Over the next week or so, Klaus gave me two delightful fuckings and
suckings, Jonathan and I made physical love every way we could one night, I
had two talk sessions one each in Dr. Hein's and Dr. Coopers' offices, and
another session in the chair. During the latter, Dr. Hein was a bit less
gratious, the pictures were very explicit movies and the jolts nastier and
longer.

	Even more wrenching the following Monday afternoon was the
condition of the sad eleven year old, Ned, when they carried him back from
a session in the chair. Again, ignoring the advice of others, I couldn't
keep myself from going to him.

	He felt cold and barely moved. His heartbeat, which I felt through
his clamy chest, was erratic, seeming to skip a beat every few. For a while
I panicked at the thought that he might have been dying right there beside
me. I held him to me and spoke to him.

	"Don't worry. You're going to be okay" and other such tripe as
Jonathan would doubtless have called it.

	I stayed with him through dinner, missing another workout which
irritated Klaus who said, "Leave him. He's going to be okay. He doesn't
need anybody holding his hand."

	My glare only seemed to irritate him more but he left us and went
off to his water colors.

	By lights out, Ned was talking to me but still hurting. I'd saved
his dinner but he didn't feel like eating. I felt terrible leaving him but
Mr. Stoddard, the attendant that night, wanted me on my own bed.

	The horrible treatment he was receiving became more understandable
when he spoke. His speech was very effeminate, even moreso than Marlon or
Brian who were queens compared to me. Then, moments before I had to leave
him, he made the most revealing remark, "Why can't they just cut this thing
off and leave me alone." He was holding his penis.

	The next morning, right after showering, still damp, I was given my
worse session yet in the chair. Dr. Hein acted as though he was quite upset
with me though it could have been an act.

	As they strapped me in, he said, "We agreed zat you vould not be
wis any of za osser queers ant now you vant to sleep wis zat boy Ned."

	Electrodes were strapped to both ankles. The shock went up my legs,
through my pelvis and stomach and into my chest. It was as though a truck
had run over me. Bones felt broken, joints wrenched apart. I think my heart
stopped for a moment. I couldn't catch my breath. Everything, even my neck,
ached terribly.

	I was unable to speak a word in my defense. The doctor went on. "I
am nice to you ant let you be wis zat Jonathan. Even he knows he must not
go near zat bad boy. Vy do you go wis him?"

	I couldn't say a word. My lungs, throat and mouth weren't working
together.

	"Malcolm!"

	He did it again. It didn't feel as bad as the first one but that
was probably because I think I partially passed out. Still, the overall
pain remained constant. I lost track of where I was, who was with me. The
last jolt knocked me cold.

	I woke up as I was being carried into the ward. The pain was still
there at lights out. I'd managed some dinner because I knew I needed it but
the only work out was trying to move my arms.

	I did finally get to sleep though I awakened several times when I
moved, each time bringing back the pain. It was better by morning. I ate a
full breakfast including half of two other boys who gave me what they
didn't want thanks to Klaus intercession weeks before.

	I got in more sleep before lunch, ate well, and got in a full
workout with Klaus that afternoon, all the while determined to escape as
soon as possible. What kept me from planning anything foolish was the
continuing realization that I'd only have one chance at escape. They'd lock
me up good were I caught, possibly for many years to come if not the rest
of my life.

	Every idea regarding that escape was examined time and again,
causing most to be discarded for even the tiniest flaw. Hard as I tried, I
couldn't figure out a way to get a cassock out of the chapel and stash it
somewhere it wouldn't be discovered in the ward. Most of my escape plans
included that black cassock.

      I did learn something very interesting two days after that bad
session in the chair when Gary, a thirteen year old boy who rarely spoke to
anyone went berserk and ran into a wall, opening a deep and very bloody cut
in his head, knocking himself unconscious in the process.

	The same doctor who had given me my physical the day after being
sent to the ward, came in and stitched up Gary's head. Gary was kept in an
infirmary for a day. The doctor again came to see him the following
morning.

	Strangely enough, there was no one on the staff capable of handling
such emergencies. They were all psychiatrists, psychologists and social
workers. The few nurses were psychiatric nurses who apparently were too far
out of practice to help in such emergency situations.

	The doctor lived twelve miles away in the closest town. He had his
practice there. He'd been very cool toward me so I didn't see an ally, just
a potential, unwitting conspirator.

	Wednesday night between our beds, Klaus asked me to suck him before
he fucked me. He wanted to see how good I was. "You say those men paid you
money to suck them. You must be very good, like me fucking."

	I didn't get fucked that night. It took a while. I could only get
the top third of that long thing into my mouth but I worked the sides right
down to his balls and fingered his anus. His sperm had a nasty taste,
probably due to the lousy food we were served. And, he had a lot of
it. When he started pumping his juice into my mouth, I had to swallow
fast. Even then, some of it came out through my nose.

	Klaus kindly sucked it off, giving me a deep french kiss in the
process before providing another great blow job. He hadn't washed his mouth
out after sucking Mr. Coulter, who was on that week. I could taste the
man's even less tasty sperm mixed in there with mine. I knew what mine
tasted like and that was very different.

	Klaus noticed my expression. "You don't like your own sperm?"

	"It wasn't just mine."

	He licked his lips and grinned.

	That inspired me. "You think Mr. Coulter might like me to suck him
too. Maybe he can do me favors too."

	"Oh, I don't think that is a good idea. He doesn't know you know
what we do. I think he will be very angry."

	That at least confirmed he likely wasn't telling anyone too
much. And since he always fucked me by my bed and not in the bathroom like
Sonny where Mr. Coulter could watch, it seemed a good bet he hadn't told
the doctor either what he was doing with me.

	The following day halfway through our exercise routine, we took a
break and I got back into his relationship with Dr. Hein.

	"Why do you always ask about that? He is my friend. He saved my
life."

	"But why does he keep you locked up in this place? You could live
in his house or with some family near here."

	"Malcolm, you forget that in Germany I am still a murderer. So I
must stay in here where they can't get me until I am eighteen then the
Americans will let me go out and will not send me back to Germany. I can
become a American and get a job here.'

	That made no sense at all and brought up another point I hadn't
considered before. "But you don't go to school. There is no school
here. Did you go to school in Germany?"

	"Oh yes."

	"What grade, I mean, how many years of school?"

	He paused, then, "One, but I can go to school when I get out of
here, yes?"

	"Sure, I suppose you can but you'll have to work or something
unless Dr. Hein is going to take care of you."

	"Oh yes, he will take care of me. He says that always, that he will
always be my friend and take care of me."

	That certainly fit the description of sugar daddy.