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From: Troubador <llywarch_hen@btinternet.com>
Subject: ST - From Defeat, Chapter 10 (M/t, hist, oral, anal, rim)
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===================

 Chapter Ten

      The following morning Karl was roused from a deep slumber with an urgent need to piss, he slowly disengaged his limbs from Jurgen carefully trying not to wake him and padded barefoot to the bathroom to relieve himself; when he returned he found Jurgen now clutching a pillow close to his belly and Karl sat on the edge of the bed so he could lean close.




    "You awake?" He whispered in Jurgen's ear.




    When there was no reply he silently explored the bedroom, in one fitted wardrobe he found bath robes one monogrammed 'J' and the other 'K'. Karl shook his head, closed his eyes and smiled fondly at his mother's exquisite attention to detail; he pulled on the 'K' robe and sat on the edge of the bed watching Jurgen sleep. 

Amazed at how innocent the lad looked despite the horrors he'd witnessed in his short life Karl realised his issues with regards to being raped by the two Russians paled to insignificance, when compared to what Jurgen had needed to do deal with as a fourteen year old. 

    "Come back to bed!" Jurgen interrupted his silent soliloquy and Karl returned his attention to the figure laying supine in the bed clutching the pillow to his chest.

    "What?"

    "Come back to bed!"

    "Why?"

    "I want you to fuck me, dad!"

    "I wish you'd stop saying the words 'Fuck' and 'Dad' together!!"

    "I not going to say it anywhere some one would hear! I just like seeing your reaction when I say it."

    "I bet you do! You are one little pervert do you know that! A dirty minded, perverted teenager..." Karl grinned at him, "...and yes, you are correct, I do enjoy hearing you say it. You make it sound so dirty and sleazy!"

    "I'm sorry about last night. I really like your family. They made me so welcome, but it was such a shock to hear how much they knew about my family. So much more than I've ever known. Do you think they'd mind telling me about my family and what it used to be like in Germany before the war?"

    "Mind? Look mate, my grandparents love to talk about the old days in Germany, it's difficult to get them to shut up about it. I'm sure now they have you to reminisce with about the old days and the old neighbourhood I wont have to listen to it any more."

    "Don't say it like that!" Jurgen frowned and snapped at him, "Their memories are the only things I'll have to remember what it was like where I grew up. All the photos my parents had burnt in the house. I don't think I'll ever grow tired of hearing them talk about it. Never!"

    "OK, OK, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have expressed it quite like that!"

As Karl spoke so Jurgen rolled over and spread his legs, with his arms he reached behind and pulled his cheeks apart to show Karl he was ready. Karl lay between Jurgen's legs and lowered his haed closer to the secret spot and started licking Jurgen's arse. Jurgen moaned in pleasure as Karl's hot, moist tongue stimulated his arse, he so loved this part as Karl prepared him to be fucked. 

Jurgen felt Karl shift and remove the robe and then the weight of his body as the warm, soft, moist head of Karl's cock as it touched the muscle where his tongue had so recently gratified itself. Jurgen realised Karl wasn't going to use lubricant this time, instead lowering his body gently, allowing his weight to slowly push his cock deep in to Jurgen.

    "How does that feel?"

    "Aaaah!" Jurgen released a long, slow exhalation of breath as he adjusted to his first fuck without lube. 

    "Oh, Karl, it feels so much better like this; I can feel your cock moving into me. I don't think I want you to use lube again, just your tongue!"

    "Are you sure?"

    "Oh, yes, very sure!" he whispered.

    "I hope my mother doesn't walk in right now; there are somethings a parent should never see and her son fucking his teenage boyfriend is definitely one of them!"

Karl held still for a few moments allowing Jurgen to relax before he continued to use his weight to force his cock in; the intensity of the heat in Jurgen's arse was driving him crazy, he so much wanted to slam his cock in but held back on the savage nature of that desire knowing without the extra lube he'd hurt Jurgen badly. 

He pulled the length of his cock out of Jurgen's arse stopping only when he felt the constriction around the head of his cock and then pushed back in harder and deeper. Jurgen's head reared back and he released another long exhalation of breath, Karl stopped, worried he'd inadvertently caused hurt but as Jurgen relaxed again it encouraged Karl to pick up the pace. 

Karl's began slowly, in, out, in, out, building to a frantic intensity as his cock - now slicked with the natural lube in Jurgen's arse and with their mutual sweat - was able to slip easily into his lad's unresisting body. 

Karl's heartbeat hammered as he felt a familiar tingling along the length of his cock, his breathing shortened to quick, short gasps as he climaxed; he slumped onto Jurgen's back and the lad stoically bore Karl's weight as he felt the spasms of Karl's cock in his arse. 

Jurgen could hear Karl's ragged breathing close to his ear, the shuddering gasps lessening in intensity as his dad came down off the high he'd just experienced. Jurgen felt Karl's cock begin to soften and eventually it slipped free. He rolled over onto his right hip and as Karl rolled onto his left, his breathing returned to normal and he opened his eyes smiled at Jurgen. 

Jurgen rested his upper body weight on his elbow and supported his head on his hand and looked over at Karl's sweat covered face. Karl smiled, placed his hand behind Jurgen's neck to pull him closer and in the dying heat of spent passion they kissed, slowly, lovingly as Jurgen's hand stroked Karl's body.

    "Come on, lad!" Karl ruffled Jurgen's hair, "We need to shower and go down see my parents. My mother's dying to meet you, I could see it in her face last night when she looked in!"

As the shower water thundered against their bodies they almost ended up having sex on the floor of the shower but managed to keep their hands off each other long enough to get down the stairs and out the door; by the time they walked into Karl's parents house they even managed to compose themselves to some degree of respectability.





    After introducing Jurgen to his mother, he left the little scutt to charm the stockings off her and went in search of his father. 

    "Hey, Dad!"

    "Karl! How is he this morning? Your mother said he was a little upset last night. Not due to our little welcome home committee, I hope."

    "No. He really likes you all. He was... a little shocked... at how much you all know about his family, apparently his father never talked about them. Jurgen said he'd like to talk to Grandma and Grandpa about Germany!"

    "Oh my." Karl's dad rolled his eyes, "Do you think the poor lad knows what he's letting himself in for?"

    "Hey, that's what I said! He shouted at me; told me not to talk about them like that. Told me their memories are the only thing he'll ever have of his old neighbourhood. He wants to listen to their memories and I guess they'll mean a lot more to him than they ever did to me. I guess he'll probably want to talk to you, too; he wants to know more about his Uncle."

    "Is that so ... I shall have to put my memories in order then, although, as the two of you are sharing a bed I guess he's old and wordly enough enough to hear the risqué, saucy ones, too."

    "Dad...!

    "Sorry, couldn't resist it."

    "Dad, if he starts crying when you talk to him would you just hold him, please! He's just starting to grieve."

    "I will, son! You love him a lot, don't you?"

    Not trusting his voice to say it without cracking, Karl nodded his head slowly, but the tears started leaking anyway.

    "Karl ... I want to apologise to you for the things I said when you told your mother and me about you and Charlie, I shouldn't have been so quick to judge. I've seen the way Jurgen looks at you and I've had my eyes opened a little wider... again."

    "Dad! Do you know a tailor who'd be willing to do a special job for me?"

    "How special?"

    "I've an old uniform of Jurgen's upstairs; he was quite small and slim when we met. I'd rather not ask Grandpa to do it, it's a Nazi uniform and the overtones may upset him. I'm sure he'd do it but I'd rather not put him in that position."

    "Do you know remember Mr Georgiou on the High Street?"

    "I think I remember playing with his son Nico after school when we were kids." Karl said.

    "I'll call in and talk to him on the way to work. When you're ready take the uniform in and let him measure it and take the design. I'll tell him to add it to my bill and you and I can sort it out later."

    "Thanks, dad. I won't be able to do it quite that quickly. I need to get Jurgen out of the house first, I don't want him to see me messing around in his back pack."

    "This pack is important to him?"

    "Uhmm! Yes ... it contains his memories. Oh, Dad, I wish you could see some of the things in there; there's a blood soaked Swastika riddled with bullet holes, I don't know whose blood it is yet but I'm sure he'll get around to sharing that memory soon; there are two Luger pistols with ammunition, one given to him by a dying squad leader outside the Riech Chancellery building, the other he robbed off the corpse of a dead SS officer; there are a few other military items in there too; his mother's jewellery box and some childhood knick-knacks he rescued from the remains of the house."

    "Pistols? With ammunition? Karl!" His father exclaimed nervously

    "Don't worry, their locked away. Oh, dad, he's had such an awful childhood, I just want to make sure that everything that happens for him now is a positive!" Karl turned to leave, "Oh, one other thing... do you know any one on the college board? I need to talk about enrolling Jurgen."

    "I'll phone Hilda Braithwaite and ask her to stop by this evening, she can speak to the two of you then. You aren't going to be one hundred percent honest with her, are you?"

    "What's that supposed to mean?"

    "Well, Hilda's a pretty straight-laced old girl; just tell her Jurgen is your adopted son, show her the certificate and leave it at that!"

    "Oh, dear God, give me strength! DAD! I'm not going to be sharing the details of my relationship with Jurgen with all and sundry, there are too many narrow minded bigots around."

    "Of which I was one?" his father raise an eyebrow.

    "NO! No, you weren't, you and grandpa had ... religious objections  ... I understood them."

    "Don't worry, son, I'm only teasing."













    As the year progressed from spring into summer, Jurgen found himself not only enrolled at the local college but enjoying the experience. It was such a different environment from school that he threw himself into it with a wild abandon and studied hard to play catch up and gain an education such as he would have been denied had he remained behind in what the world was now calling the German Democratic Republic. 

Karl attempted to take an interest in Jurgen's studies but he had chosen to major in Modern History. Despite having participated in the largest invasion in history Karl found he wasn't particularly up to speed on Modern History, but still, it was a subject in which Jurgen was interested and his lecturers all agreed it was a subject he excelled at.









    However, there were two incidents during Jurgen's early college education where Karl found it necessary to intervene directly. 

    The first one involved Jurgen's friends, who apparently thought of Jurgen as being a aloof and even arrogantly concerning the dismissive manner with which he treated their juvenile entertainments at the local mall and the second, more serious incident involved a college staff member who accused Jurgen of lying and plagiarising someone else's published work for study submission. 

Karl found he was able to settle both quickly and quietly, using the same technique in both cases.

Jurgen told Karl about his problems with his friends and their inability to understand his lack of desire to hang around the drug-store soda fountains in town or kick balls around in the local parks. By the same extension Jurgen couldn't understand why none of them wanted to come to the gym at nights to work out with him. 

Jurgen felt hanging around a soda fountain for the sake of hanging around was juvenile and pedantic, an utter waste of his time. In his eyes his studies and his relationship with Karl were the most important things in his life, the two things he concentrated on above all else.

So, one evening Karl arranged with one of Jurgen's closest friends to get all of Jurgen's close friends to come around the next time Jurgen was expected to got to the gym to work out. 

Karl waved Jurgen off as he walked down the road heading toward the gymnasium. When he was sure Jurgen wouldn't return Karl phoned Paul and asked him to bring the lads over; when they arrived he started by serving glasses of Coca-Cola and chatting to them about college, settling them down before he started explaining the harrowing details of Jurgen's life. 

He began by showing them the faded black Jugend uniform which Jurgen had worn when they first met. Karl explained how from the age of ten it had been mandatory for Jurgen and all lads of his age in Nazi Germany to be a member of the Hitler Youth. He explained that when Berlin had been surrounded by the Allies, so Jurgen and his friends had been running ammunition to the bastions where the Volksturm where fighting to stem the flow of invading soldiers and had even taken up weapons themselves when the battle was at its fiercest. 

Karl then showed them the bullet hole in the back of the uniform which corresponded to the location of the scars on Jurgen's shoulder; Karl knew most of them would have seen Jurgen's shoulder in the showers after sports practice; he also went into graphic detail when he explained to them the circumstances of how Jurgen had been shot and how he'd almost died of his injuries.

Next, he brought out the two Luger pistols, explaining how Jurgen had come into possession of them and how a fourteen year old lad, living wild on the ruined streets of Berlin had needed to use them to defend himself; sombrely, he also related how Jurgen had needed to scavenge the ruins of the city looking for enough to eat to survive. 

Karl could see by their harrowed expressions the shock they all felt as they finally learnt the secrets of Jurgen's mysterious past, however, Karl felt the needed to shake their complacency to the very core and knew there was one thing in the pack which could just do it. The last, grisly souvenir he extracted was the blood stained, Swastika Flag. He knew they'd all have seen these flags in the war films they watched at the local cinema but seeing a real one was the knock punch Karl was hoping for. For these lads to know Jurgen counted one such flag, blood stained and bullet riddled, amongst his personal possessions finally brought it home to them like nothing else they'd been shown.

    "I hope you lads can understand, Jurgen's not being arrogant, aloof or dismissive of your entertainments. He had to grow up very quickly and he's never had a regular childhood as you have. The war brought his to an abrupt end and while you had the chance to grow up playing innocent games with bat and ball, he and his friends were fighting for their lives on the streets of Berlin. He dislikes watching war films at the cinema because it brings it all back, the films remind him of everything he's lost."

There was a noise on the stairs and a kit-bag came sailing up, thrown from the bottom of the steps and they all watched as it unerringly landed in the kitchen by the laundry basket.

    "Dad!" Jurgen shouted up the stair. "Is dinner ready?"

    Karl turned to the lads and said, "Here's the star of our little show now! Be careful lads, he's always a little cranky when he gets back from the gym."

As Jurgen walked in he saw his friends seated about the table, his things from the back pack spread out before them and he visibly gulped as he realised from their shocked expressions that Karl had told them.

    "All right, so now you know!" He whispered hoarsely.


They all nodded and one by one they walked over, put an arm around his shoulder and whisper their apologies for giving him a hard time with their puerile antics. As they shuffled around, looking at their feet, Jurgen grinned and went to the fridge where he grabbed a six pack of Coca-Cola. He walked out and motioned them to follow and as he trooped them out in to the back-yard he left a bewildered Karl shaking his head in wonder at how easily the little scutt had recovered his composure. 
After carefully packing away the precious items, Karl poked his head out the window to see them all sitting on the grass, laughing and joking, in deep meaningful discussions about those things teenage lads the world over found so interesting. 

Karl's main interest though was seeing Jurgen laughing, joking and at ease with his friends.
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