FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

BennettWorks

This is a work of original furry fiction/erotica by me David Bennett. This is a work of historical fiction and makes references towards real people and events. All characters otherwise used are copyright myself, except Wolfpac...Wolfpac is copyright his creator.

If you are underage (18 or 21) or offended by gay historical fiction, then turn away. If you are turned off by adult-youth relationships then stop reading. Otherwise read on and enjoy.

All of these chapters and information on wolfpac are available at www.denofthewolf.net

(*author's note*) I am aware that there are some typos in the story, please try to make the best of it, this story was typed a while back.

_____________________

Zeke sat in his home...staring off into space. It was the Saturday of the week of Fritz and Milo's death, and hardly anything helped to cheer him up. Not even Gregory and his younger brother Steen were keeping him happy. Zeke Von Hurstleburg was a broken man.

On this particularly dreary, rainy morning, Zeke sat at his desk staring at his typewriter. Kurtis had been kind, and had let him go without working for the whole week, but his back work was stacking up. Zeke could hardly bring himself to dress himself, let alone write an article. So, naked he sat, looking into the depths of his own inner self.

Rain was falling on the window of his flat, making a small and light pitter-patter of water upon the panes. Zeke sighed, and raised his cigarette to his lips, and took a long drag. Fritz and Milo were dead...he couldn't think of anything else. In nearly a year, everyone he has come to love has been murdered. His Father and Brothers, and his husband and adopted son have all been taken down by the Gestapo. Zeke snickered evilly, and tapped the ashes of his Cigarette into his ashtray, it would seem he had become death, the destroyer of worlds.

The door to his room opened slowly, and Gregory poked his head in gently. Zeke's back was to him, and to the young lad the sight of the depressed naked man was enough to even sour his mood. But he needed to talk to the lord of the Von Hurstleburgs, and Zeke's depression would have to wait.

"Herr Zeke? How are you this morn?" He asked.

Zeke stayed silent, and took a long drag off his cigarette, and let his arm slowly fall back to the armrest of his reclining desk chair. "I am like the moon; bright and shining, surrounded by other bright and shining people, but forever doomed to reside in darkness." Zeke droned in a low monotone.

Gregory took a few steps forward. "A simple 'not well' would have worked." The young lad said as he walked around to be in front of his loving master. Zeke looked at him with tired and sad eyes. Zeke hadn't slept, and hadn't even really eaten in days. He looked like a wreck, but Gregory was in love with the older male and considered him to be his wreck at the very least.

"Yeah, well it's the truth. I am nothing now." Zeke whispered as he looked at the boy in front of him. The boy wore not is stitch, he was just as naked as he. The lad leaned against the table, and seemed to pose for Zeke. Zeke's groin twitched, and he shuffled his position in his chair.

"What are you doing?" Zeke asked.

"Trying to make you feel better." The boy said as he slowly stepped forward, and climbed into Zeke's lap. Zeke looked down, and saw that they were groin to groin, his hard preteen member nicely firm and pressed against his own growing mass. Zeke looked up...and tried to smile, but he couldn't. "Fuck me to feel better..."

Zeke, almost out of instinct alone, lifted the boy off of his lap, and moved him aside. "No...not now..." Zeke said as he lifted up a new cigarette and lit it. Gregory sighed in frustration and walked out of the room slowly. Zeke stared at the floor where Gregory had once stood. Things just didn't really matter to him anymore.

Zeke closed his eyes, and pondered sleeping, until his phone rang. He groaned, and leaned over and picked it up.

"What? I'm busy..." Zeke groaned into the phone.

"Zeke, it's Anita." Came a voice from the other side of the line.

"What do you want?" Zeke asked in as polite a way as he could.

"Once more I want to offer my condolences to you Zeke. I know you have pretty much lost everything recently, and I want you to know that there is always hope."

"'Hope'? For what?" Zeke scoffed.

"Hope that tomorrow or the next day might bring fortune. You must-"

Zeke cut her off. "And what if tomorrow brings more death and pain? It seems that's all this war has caused me!" Zeke snarled into the phone. There was a momentary pause, and then Anita spoke again.

"Zeke, you cannot go through the rest of your life thinking that everyone you meet will one day die on you, or cause you some sort of misery! That is not what life is about."

Zeke chuckled sardonically. "Then tell me, madam fortune teller, what life is about?" There was another pause on the phone, this one a hair longer than the first.

"Zeke, I can do without the 'fortune teller' comment. You know that not all of us gypsies are fortunetellers. I am trying to help you Zeke, I don't think you should alienate me by insulting me." She scolded.

Zeke sighed, listening to her, and responded after taking another drag on his cigarette. "You're right Anita babe, I'm sorry. I have lost my mind as I know it, and my world has been shredded apart and pissed on; I think you understand that. I need to know what I should do." He said with a light sob. Anita shushed him over the phone and tried to quiet him.

"First, you need to calm down, and try to think clearly. If you let your emotions rule your thought at this point it would only pour gasoline on the raging fire that is consuming the temple of your mind."

"Wow...that's deep."

Another pause..."That's fact. Now I want you to take a few moments to calm down and think about what is going on. I want you to weigh all your options and make your decision as to your next course of action."

Zeke took a few deep breaths, and concentrated. He felt himself becoming calm and his world went at ease. Slowly, he began to realize the only thing he could do. It was a name that popped into his head, the name of someone that had in a roundabout way been responsible for everything that had happened. Sergi Reinhart, the city's Commander. He needed to confront Sergi.

"Reinhart..." Zeke spoke aloud.

"Excuse me?" Anita asked in confusion.

"Sergi Reinhart! He is the one I need to talk to." Zeke said with a slight hint of hope in his voice.

"Why would you ever want to talk to that hell spawn? He was responsible for Fritz and Milo's deaths." Anita scoffed.

"There's more to it than that my dear Anita." Zeke said, becoming his old self again bit by bit.

"Oh really darling, then tell me what more Herr Reinhart has to do with this..." She said ominously.

Zeke cleared his throat and stood, walking with the phone to find some clothes. "Well you remember the man who has molested me over the past 6 months or so?" Zeke asked.

"Yes, how can I forget? He's the reason you don't come to work to turn in your articles; what about him?"

"Sergi is that man!" Zeke said as he reached his wardrobe. On the other end of the line he could hear the sound of the phone dropping followed by temporary silence. "Hello? Hello?" He asked into the phone.

Anita grunted on the other side of the line. "I'm here. I was just so surprised at what you told me I dropped the phone."

"Are you prone to doing that?"

"No."

"Oh well. Anyway, after Milo and Fritz's murders, he revealed himself to me."

"How?"

This time Zeke paused as he tried to think of the answer. "The man who raped me and molested me would do something at the end of every session. There is no way that no one else in the world, but him that would know what that was. Sergi did that thing right as he left me."

"And you are sure that it is he that has done all this to you?"

"I'd bet my cock on that one." Zeke said with affirmation.

Anita chuckled uneasily. "Let's hope that it doesn't come to that Zeke my darling. Well anyway I assume you plan on meeting him somewhere, though I don't recommend doing it."

"I have to know Anita! There are things I have to know."

"Like what? What can you possibly ask him that you don't already know? Besides, are you going to walk up to him and say 'Hey why have you been using me as a sex object and why did you let my husband die'? This is really dangerous, pointless, and tactless. I advise you just stay where you are."

Zeke shook his head as he found his white briefs on the floor and rested the receiver against his shoulder and neck as he pulled them on. "No way...'fraid I can't do that."

Anita scoffed. "Why not? It's obviously not safe for you outside your house, and the Nazis are going to be watching you a lot closer because of what Fritz and Milo tried. They may try to kill you for dressing out of season for all I know."

Zeke laughed, now dressed in his underwear and headed back to his chair and sat with the phone in front of the typewriter. "I doubt that these 'regional' Nazi's have even the slightest hint of fashion sense, let alone the ones in occupied France. I am going to be alright Anita, I am just going to be talking to him."

"Why...do I not believe you?" Anita asked with a sigh.

"Because you care for me and don't want me to get hurt?" Zeke shrugged.

"Yes, I don't want to see you get hurt. What is to stop Herr Reinhart from trying something funny on you?"

With that, Zeke opened the top drawer to his desk and looked at what was inside. He had bought a Mauser, the same gun that had ended his Husband's life in an attempt to end his own life in an ironic way. He held the handle and shut the desk drawer, as he rested the handle against the side of his head in his hand.

"I'm prepared."

"Well, whatever you decide, I want you to take care of yourself Zeke. I love you."

"Yeah I know. Thanks again Anita."

Anita sighed heavily into the line. "Good luck."

And with that, the conversation was ended. Zeke hung up the phone and set the Mauser down next to his typewriter, Zeke was suddenly inspired. Zeke grabbed onto a piece of fresh paper and fed it into the typing device, making a little ratcheting sound when he did so. Zeke cracked his neck and reached his hands out and began to type.

"Dear Dresden Citizens,

I am sorry that I haven't written as much as of late, but a lot of things have been on my mind lately. Some of you may know that I have recently lost two of the most important people in my life as a result of our Nazi overlords' enforcement of the rules. I want to let you know that I shall not take this offence sitting down. I am going to take matters into my hands and settle this my own way. I want to let you readers know that I may not make it through, and this may be my last letter to you, however this is something that I feel must be done. My aim is to confront a key individual that I feel would give me the best results if approached about the problem. I honestly don't know how this person will act, but things happen.

I want all you citizens to take care of yourself as I have requested in previous articles and open letters that I have written. You people are very important to me."

Zeke smiled and leaned back in his chair; He looked down and realized he was aroused again. He wondered why he was but he was in a good mood now. He got an evil idea, and he called out to Gregory, he intended to do some naughty things with him. Gregory, still naked, came running in the door and stood before Zeke in front of his desk.

"Yes Zeke?" He asked properly.

"Come here..." Zeke responded, extending a finger and making beckoning gestures. Gregory shrugged and walked over. Zeke gave a grin and pulled Gregory down, and smothered his face in his crotch for a moment. Zeke half smiled, and looked half confused.

"I need a change of oil," He said softly. "Would you mind draining me?"

"You mean?" Gregory asked in happiness.

"Yes...go ahead."

Gregory smiled proceeded to help Zeke out of his underwear once more. Gregory smiled at the sight of the naked body in front of him, and grinned wider. Zeke's cock had a tiny drop of precum at the tip of it, and was begging to be cleaned. He took Zeke's hard pink member into his hands, and plunged it into his preteen throat. Gregory worked his throat as best as he could as he maneuvered over the large member of his beloved.

Zeke moaned, and leaned over to type another letter while he let this child indulge himself.

"Dear Kurtis,

I regret to inform you that I may never return to work. This is not a resignation; this is a proclamation of my intentions to confront someone. I must tell you that this confrontation may cost me my life, and that you may never see me again. In the event of that, I want you to give Anita my position as head reporter. If I do live, I will write you of my status. I thank you.

Zeke VonHurstleburg"

Zeke finished the letter, and smiled. He looked down at Gregory...and whispered. "I am going to cum soon, let me cum in your ass." He asked.

Gregory pulled off, and nodded. He then stood, turned, and presented his ass to him. Zeke snarled happily and swiped everything except the typewriter off the desk. He grinned and positioned himself behind the boy, and opened his ass cheeks gently. He leaned in and spit on his hand, and lubed up his member.

Gregory happily moaned when the cock was inserted. His ass was so incredibly tight, and the feeling of Zeke's girth and length inside of him was such a delightful feeling.

"Is this what you wanted?" Zeke asked him.

"Y-yes!" Gregory moaned.

Zeke knew it wouldn't be long. He began to thrust into the preteen in long glides, and hard humps. The boy moaned and whined with every intrusion of his anus, and nearly cried for more when the oblong sex organ threatened to leave. Zeke leaned in and gripped hard at the boy's hips, and sent him further and further into a lust.

"I'm going to tie us, here I go!" He moaned. With one hard thrust, Zeke's knot plopped into the child. The pair let out a simultaneous noise of ecstasy as they were joined. Zeke then sat them down in the chair as he humped a few more times, and then unloaded in the child's ass. Without missing a beat, Zeke gripped at the boy's cock, and began to pump it hard and aggressively. Gregory moaned and throbbed in his hand as his own semen rocketed all over them. The two sighed, and melted into the moment as they rested there.

"Feel better?" Gregory asked.

"A little." Zeke said with a smile.

* * *

Zeke shuffled in his spot. He was nervous. It was Sunday, the usual evening of his meetings with Reinhart. He was ready this time, and unlike before, it was he that was there first.

Zeke stood, dressed in his new coat that Anita had made, and no shirt. His legs were covered with tights, and his riding boots. In the back of his pants, hidden at the small of his back, was his Mauser. He was ready for anything. He reached into his pocket, and pulled his cigarette case out. He lit one up. The tobacco was just what he needed.

Behind him, he heard the sounds of booted footsteps. Zeke slowly turned, and saw the form of Reinhart, walking slowly through the darkness towards him. The two slowly faced each other, and gained eye contact.

"I didn't think you'd show up." Whispered Reinhart.

Something clattered at Zeke's feet. He looked down, and saw the theater mask that Reinhart had worn for a while lying there. He looked up and saw a tired and sad Reinhart looking back.

"Neither did I." Zeke whispered back.

Reinhart slowly reached down and wrapped his fingers around his Luger. Zeke reached around his back as quickly as possible, and pointed it at Reinhart's head. In a move that was just a hair faster than Zeke, the Luger was aimed at Zeke's head. They had each other at a one another's mercy.

For a few minutes, they stood that way, staring at the other from across their barrels. No one spoke. A wind blew, and it tussled at their hair and clothes. It was Reinhart that was the first to speak.

"So, you want to kill me?" He whispered softly.

"And you Sergi?" He asked in return.

A few more moments of silence fell upon the pair, as they adjusted their grips on their guns, and held there.

"You know...you can kill me...and I wouldn't hold it against you. You lost your family to my people...and I have done such cruel things...to satisfy my own lust over you."

"Why..." Zeke whispered.

"Why what?"

"Why did you fuck me? Why did you do this to me?"

There were a few moments of silence before Sergi answered. "The first time? I was horny, and you were just a means of release. The thing was, you did something for me that no one could; you made me happy. I knew you were married, and that you wouldn't come to me willingly, so I had to threaten all those other times."

"You...cost me...my son...and my husband."

"As I said," Reinhart lowered his gun, and leaned in and slid it down the front of Reinhart's pants. "You can kill me if you want."

"Why should I kill you?"

"You shouldn't, I am merely saying I wont stop you if you do."

Zeke pulled the hammer back on the firearm, and repositioned it. "I need to know, what I should do."

Reinhart stood there, and shed his coat, tossing it aside on a garbage can. Next came his hat. "Run."

"Run? Why should I run?"

"Because. The SS knows about you. I have been holding them back as long as I can, but it's too late. My secret about being...as you...is out. It wont be long until they find you."

"How do I know you're not lying?" Zeke wondered as he tilted his head.

"Because Zeke, I love you. I don't want to see you die."

"You love me?" Zeke asked as he lowered his pistol a hair.

"Yes. I have a way for you to get out of town," Sergi whispered even lower as he stepped out of his pants and shirt, and stood in his underwear. "Give me your clothes."

"Why?"

"Damnit! Just give me your clothes or I'll kill you myself!" He spoke in an angry whisper.

Zeke stripped down, and exchanged clothes with him. Zeke stood, dressed in the Nazi uniform, and even the underwear of Sergi's, as he looked at the handsome male in front of him.

"Now what?"

"And now, you run. Go to the border and pose as me. The outer guards don't know what I look like, but they will recognize the uniform and rank. The SS guards in the city will see me dressed as you and come after me.

"Are you sure that's wise?"

"It's your only choice if you want to live. Now go."

"But..." He began to protest.

"Go now!"

Zeke sighed and walked out of the alley, hiding his hair in the back of his coat. Sergi walked the opposite direction. Zeke closed his eyes, and broke into a run. He ran, and ran.

Zeke reached the bridge, the same bridge that Fritz had tried to cross. He gulped, and approached the night guard who stood there. He wasn't ready for any of this. The officer stepped forward, and saluted him, Zeke saluted back.

"Evening Commander, what is the problem?"

Zeke gulped, he hadn't thought of a reason to leave. "I am just headed to the next town to investigate that VonHurstleburg fellow, rumor has it he may be making a break."

"A break? That's not good. I suppose that-"

Like thunder, only a few blocks away, the sounds of gunfire could be heard. The officer broke into a run and shouted for him to get help. Zeke took the opportunity to run, and get away from that place.

Zeke hadn't seen the road out of town in years. The dirt road was lined with trees, and all were stripped bare from the winter. Behind the lining of trees were the fields belonging to the countryside farmers. He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. What was he going to do now? He had abandoned everything!

"Thanks Sergi." He whispered to himself.

As Zeke walked, for 3 days down that road, he came to the realization that Sergi was dead. That had to be the noise he heard...the gunfire. Zeke was saddened, and starving. Sergi was dead, and so was the life he knew.

On the fourth day, Zeke was staggering down the road. He was far into the countryside. He didn't know where he was, but he knew he was far away from Dresden. He sighed, and looked to the road. There was a car approaching. He gulped, and tried to stand as best as he could.

The car pulled up to him, and there was a Jewish man behind the wheel. It was a relatively new car, but Zeke was starting to get dizzy.

"Now what is a Nazi officer doing all the way out here by himself?" The person in the car asked.

Zeke opened his mouth to talk, but collapsed to the ground from dehydration.

He had only a few seconds to note that one of the man's tires was slightly flat before everything went black.

* * *

Zeke was wet. He didn't know why, but he was. He blinked his eyes, and he felt his head was being cradled, and water was going down his throat. The water was so cold, and wonderful. He drank out of instinct, and saw that he was naked, and in a bathtub. When his eyes came to focus, he saw several Jewish Felines around him, trying to help him.

"He's waking up!" One man said.

"I got his neck, he'll be alright." Said another

"I think you two are crazy!" Came an angered female voice from behind.

Zeke groaned and tried to speak, but a gentle pair of hands on his face silenced him.

His body was washed all over, and the felines didn't seem to mind washing every inch. When they were done, they helped him out of the tub, and dressed him in some tattered clothes that they had lying around. Zeke looked about, and saw a humble house. The house was the kind that only had one room, and a built-on outhouse. He saw the people there, standing around him. Two were young adult males, and one was a young adult female black feline. Zeke was shirtless, and held the loose pants around his waist. Zeke knew the people helping him were Jewish, but that didn't matter. Zeke looked down at the burgundy pants he was trying to wear. They were torn at the knees, and had a hole in the left thigh, and they were 6 inches too big for him at the waist. The younger of the two males walked over and placed his hand on Zeke's shoulder.

"Sorry about the pants sir, but it was the best we could do on short notice."

"Where are my clothes?" Zeke asked.

The older of the two young males sighed and pointed outside. "We buried them outside in a box, so that way if the Nazi's came by they wouldn't see the clothes lying around."

Zeke sighed and let the pants drop a tiny bit in the front, showing off everything but his groin. "I have to thank you, I don't know what would have happened to me."

"Don't mention it, we figure that this is our chance to do our civil and moral duty." Said the younger one.

The female scoffed. "Personally I think you are crazy! He's one of them. He'll lead the enemy too you and ruin you both!"

The older of the two males sighed and turned to regard the female. "Marta, stop this already. You are just passing through, you don't live here so let me make the decision to take whom I want in."

"Alright William, but don't blame me if something happens." The female said as she stormed out of the house, never to return. Zeke sighed and looked at the males.

"And that's why I don't go in for women." Zeke said. The males looked at each other and smiled and the younger stepped forward.

"I am Ishmael Keinwietz, and this is my brother William." He said extending his hand. Zeke used his free right hand to shake his hand.

"Lord Zeke VonHurstleburg at your service." Zeke said smiling a little.

"So you're homosexual?" William asked.

"Yes..." He admitted.

"Don't worry, you happen to be in luck, so am I!" Ishmael said with a fat grin. Zeke nodded and looked over at William.

"And you?"

William held up a hand and shook his head. "Sadly for you two...no. I am straight, but I'll support anything you two do."

Zeke sighed and said. "Now that the woman's gone can I drop these?" He said, gesturing to the pants.

"By all means." Ishmael said softly. Zeke let the pants drop as they fell with a near silent sound. He stepped out of them, and walked over to one of the two beds. He pointed to them, and Ishmael helped him into the one on his left. The bed was unbelievably comfortable, but had to be at least 40 years old. It amazed Zeke. He had been able to afford all the newest things, but the most comfortable things were older.

"Why did you help me, it was you in the car Mr. William, wasn't it?"

Next to Zeke, he could feel Ishmael sliding into bed with him. He sighed, he didn't mind. Though, a slightly disturbing fact was that Ishmael was naked already...the feline seemed to be moving rather quickly.

"Yes it was. I'm glad you kept your memories. I saw you walking about like a drunken sloth, and was worried that someone might hit you if you weren't careful. I slowed down and saw the Nazi uniform on you and wondered why an SS officer would be wandering about this far into the countryside by himself. The next thing I knew, you collapse there in the road. So I lifted you into the car, and took you home."

Zeke could feel the sensation of a hand creeping onto his chest. He sighed, and thought. The hand moved in a slow arc over his pectorals and slowly caressed down his abdomen and worked it's way back up again. The gesture was soothing. He looked at Ishmael, who seemed to have fallen in love with the virile male to his left. Zeke faked a smile, but he couldn't fake a genuine arousal; fate was cruel in the way the mind and body sometimes failed to agree with the other.

"Why did you help me though? I could be a Nazi." Zeke said in a quieter voice.

"I helped you because God would want me to help, even if you are the enemy. Besides, you can't be a Nazi officer for several reasons, but rather than name them, just know that I can tell.

"Well...I suppose that's good enough. Thank you very m-" Zeke began, but he was interrupted by a kissing at his chest. Ishmael was kissing at his furry chest, and moving his way to spoon their bodies together. Zeke stared down in wonder at Ishmael and finished. "Much..."

William laughed. "It would seem that my brother wants to thank you for something."

"What for I fail to see...but...I suppose...I do...owe you..." Zeke moaned as his pleasure buttons began to be pushed.

"I'll just leave you two be. If you need me for anything, I'll be outside working in the shed." William said as he slowly rose, and walked out the door. Zeke watched him go the whole time, and then focused back on the male on top of him who was traveling lower and lower upon his body.

"Why are you doing this?" Zeke asked.

Ishmael stopped the kissing and looked up at him and smiled. "Because, I want the chance to have someone like you. If you are a Nazi, perhaps I can persuade you to let me live."

Zeke chuckled, and pet the bottom of Ishmael's chin. "Aw, you didn't have to do that. I'm not a Nazi; I was just dressed as one to escape. You don't have to sex me because you want to live, if you want to sex me do it because you want to." Zeke said as he tilted his head to the side. "Believe me this gesture and your kindness to me has been very flattering."

"Wait until I get started!" Ishmael said softly. Slowly he slid further down the covers, and disappeared. Whence he had disappeared, Zeke could feel the sensation of his meaty member disappearing into the feline's mouth. Zeke gasped, and gripped a little at the bed. It had been ages since he had felt the textured tongue of a feline against his sensitive skin. The feeling of this Jew's lips around him and the constant rising and falling of the tongue was almost enough to make him blow his load instantly. Zeke let his arms rest at his side, as he felt this new male explore his lower region.

"Good kitty..." Zeke absently mumbled. Ishmael gave a few happy slurps and healthy swallows in response. Zeke arched his back a little, and Ishmael's head became revealed once more as the blankets slipped down. The sight was a pretty handsome one. He looked, as his pink member would continuously vanish into ebony depths of the male's lips, and then reappear seconds later.

Zeke let himself sink back to the mattress, as he opened his legs in invitation. The male gave one final lick, and parted his mouth from him, and then moved his groin over to Zeke's. Zeke could feel the feline cock against his tailhole, loosening him up a little. Zeke gave a moan, and let the male in, letting him glide in without taking any time to relax. Zeke was in lust; he needed a good male for some reason. The male looked down, and brought their lips together as Zeke kissed him. The feline's textured tongue tickled his, and made him giggle a little.

The male pulled back, and leaned upwards a little, as he took Zeke into his hand, and began to stroke, the other on his hip. Zeke moaned, and closed his eyes, and bit his lips. He could feel the Feline barbs beginning to dig into him, causing slight pain, but not much.

Zeke opened his eyes; he was surprised that he was going to go this quickly. They only had to be fucking for 30 minutes, but he felt as if he was going to cum. Zeke arched his back, and let out several whines, indicating that he was going to cum. The male humped harder and harder, as Zeke's spunk flew out and coated the both of them. The male, now unhindered, placed both hands on Zeke's hips, and continued to have his way with him. Zeke wrapped his legs around Ishmael's back, holding the male to him.

"I'm going to link us!" He growled

"Do it!" Zeke whined.

With that, Zeke felt the barbs hook into him in one hard injection, and a river of semen flood into him. Zeke cried, it was a little painful but more enjoyable than unpleasant. Ishmael sighed, and laid his head on Zeke's chest, pulling the blankets over them. Zeke stared at the ceiling; he was kind of surprised that this had happened. They laid there for countless minutes, resting that way, each in the other's arms and looking dreamily at the other.

"You ok?" Ishmael asked.

"Yeah, but this happened really quickly." Zeke admitted. He rarely had a sexual encounter that was that fast.

"So?"

"So, it's just that I'm not really used to this."

"Well, I am coming off four years of celibacy, so I could use the release."

Zeke pondered. "Four years? You didn't have any lovers in four years?"

Ishmael shook his head. "No, sorry. It's been hard, I have it doubly bad because I am a gay Jew, and so I had to run. The one I loved stayed behind in Poland, and was taken to the death camps."

Zeke felt himself compelled to hug the man that was inside of him, and lying on top of him. He wrapped his legs around Ishmael's and his arms around him as well. " You say that he was sent to the death camps?" Zeke asked.

"Yes." Ishmael said as licked Zeke's lips once.

"But, if you are here in Germany, how do you know what happened?"

Ishmael sighed. "A letter, sent by the Nazi's informed me what they had done, and that they might spare him if I return to Poland."

Zeke felt a bond forming in-between the two of them and began running his hand up and down the other male's back. "Why didn't you? It might have saved him."

Ishmael scoffed. "Bah, you should know better than that. If I would have returned, then the Nazis would have thrown us both in the camps and I would have been in a whole heap of trouble."

"How can you be so sure?" Zeke asked as he looked up into Ishmael's eyes.

"How can you be so sure?" He countered.

Zeke smiled, and leaned in and pressed their lips together. The two met in a fine and gentle kiss, and melted into one. Zeke did feel a bond form; if not a bond of love, then at least a very strong friendship, almost a need for Ishmael. The two kissed long into the day, and slept through the night. The two became separated during sleep, not that it mattered much.

The next morning, Zeke awoke to find Ishmael busy in the kitchen area, cooking breakfast. Zeke sighed, and leaned up in bed. He tossed his long hair about, and looked at his new friend.

"Good morning!" He said with an attempted lilt of joy.

"Good morning Zeke, I trust you slept well?" Ishmael asked, wagging his tail. Zeke looked and saw that he was wearing humble clothes; simple pants, simple shoes, and a simple dress shirt with the Jewish/homosexual symbol on it. Zeke had never seen one, it looked like the normal yellow Star, but with the pink inverted triangle mixed into it. It looked something like this:

"Do you need any help?" Zeke offered, his own tail wagging a little.

"Naw, this is a breakfast just for you."

"For...me?" Zeke asked. Zeke wondered for a minute. Does it take sex t get people to be nice to him? So far over the past year the pattern wouldn't disagree. Though, the prospect of a nice and warm breakfast in bed was a wonderful one. Zeke sat, and adjusted the blankets around himself, and got himself all propped up to eat. He was starving! The sex the previous evening had only quenched one hunger, the other in his stomach needed to be helped.

When breakfast was ready, the plate was brought before him. There were scrambled eggs, pancakes, and a cheese omelet. Zeke looked up and for only a moment was going to ask where the ham was, but he remembered whom his host was. He graciously received the tray of food, as the pair sat at the bed and ate. Amidst the mouthfuls of food Ishmael looked down at his food and spoke to Zeke.

"Sorry if it's not what you expected." He said, pushing some of the scrambled eggs about with his tarnished fork.

"No! It is delicious!" Zeke said in earnest. Zeke honestly had never consumed a breakfast like the one before him. Most of the time he could afford the finest foods, but perhaps the most honest quality of work comes from the most humble backgrounds.

"Really?" Ishmael asked softly.

"Yes. I've had some good meals in my life, but this takes the cake."

"Pun?" Ishmael asked with a smile.

"I suppose." Zeke said as he looked at his new friend with a wider smile.

"What are your plans, Herr VonHurstleburg?" Ishmael asked, as he forked some pancake pieces into his maw.

Zeke thought about it, and wondered. More or less, he was naked, and had no money and no place to go. He was as alone as he could get. He could ask for some pants and continue running, but he felt secure there...wherever "there" was.

"I figure, with your permission of course, I'd like to stay here."

Ishmael smiled...and nodded. "I was hoping you'd say that. As you know it is winter, and we have the final harvest to perform. I don't know how the weather performs where you are from, but around here it gets really hot right before it gets painfully cold. I can't till the ground, I don't have the muscles for it, and the last man to come through here left. In exchange for room, and board, and clothes...all I ask is that you till the ground, and help with the harvest this month."

Zeke thought about it for a while. He had never done any actual labor in a long time, if ever. He wasn't afraid of work, moreover he was just not used to it. Most of the time his workout régime included: running, swimming, and sexual gymnastics. Now it would seem that he would have to adapt to his surroundings. Zeke finished his food and set the dishes aside.

"Yes, I'll loan you a hand. It is the least I can do to make up for me taking some of your resources." Zeke said with a smile.

"Good. We'll start tomorrow. I will get you a belt for your pants." He said as he moved his own plates aside and cuddled up with Zeke. Zeke looked about for a moment, and worried that the older brother William would come in and might get offended.

"What about your brother? What if he sees us together?" Zeke asked.

"Oh don't worry, William goes out to the shed and works all day, I don't see him until night time. We could romp around all day if you want." Ishmael offered.

"Sound's like a plan." Zeke grinned, and tossed Ishmael over, and proceeded to have a rather interesting time under the sheets.