Those Who Forgot to Die (Chapter 1)
index
It was a splendid Wednesday afternoon in Dresden, Germany. The citizens were walking the streets during troubled times, but most tried to keep their spirits. The war had torn down families and emotions city wide, and morale was at an all-time low.
Zeke Von Hurstleburg walked with an abnormal spring in his step. The German Shepard Lupine walked past the Feline Fish Market, with a rose in his hands. He waved to them as the Felines all stood up to wave to their favorite customer, though he wouldn't be giving them any business today.
Zeke whistled his way down the street, and stopped next to an old discarded mirror in an alleyway to check out his look. His hair was getting long, down in-between his shoulder blades and braided nicely. His muzzle was nice and clean, and his fur was a perfect golden brown. He adjusted his black trench coat with his badge on the left side. He looked at it in the mirror, a pink inverted triangle. He personally loved the cruel little symbol of his sexuality. For once, he didn't have to ask the other males adorning the same symbol if they too were "friendly". Zeke wore a fine white cotton button-up shirt, and some black slacks tucked into riding boots. Zeke had a tremendous flare for a slightly flamboyant way of dressing, and the citizens around him couldn't care either way. Zeke blew his reflection a kiss and headed in towards his work at the local newspaper.
"Today, I shall make my husband happier than he has ever been!" Zeke affirmed as he headed to an old brick building in the central square. All around Schutzstaffel patrols could be seen, the Doberman looking gentlemen standing at attention like death waiting to strike. He thought about walking up to one and tickling his snout with the rose, but that would land him in the camps faster than he could blink. Instead, he merely twiddled his fingers in the direction of one soldier who just nodded in response.
Zeke entered the center of the newspaper and heard the familiar sounds of the printing presses, the arguing of the Feline press operators, and the sounds of his boss Kurtis shouting above the dim. Zeke laughed and hung up his coat on the coat hanger next the door. The building was shaped like a pentagon, and due to its abnormal shape, Zeke was able to get a view of the entire floor from his position. He cleared his throat and adjusted his cotton shirt that also bore a pink triangle.
"If you are all done with the daily bantering, I'd like to get some work done." Zeke cheerfully encouraged as he walked around to his desk. On his desk was a typewriter and a stack of papers, a lamp with a green glass shade, pictures of his husband, and his name plate that bore his name and "Chief Reporter" under it. Kurtis, a rather portly bulldog waddled his way over to Zeke as he sat at his desk to examine the papers next to his typewriter. Zeke grabbed some rimless reading glasses and put them on as Kurtis tried to get Zeke's attention by waving his hands in front of him.
"Yes Kurtis?" Zeke asked as he placed his rose in a vase next to his husband's picture.
"Forgive me for getting into your personal life, but you shouldn't have that picture of Fritz on your desk." He informed. The editor-in-chief cared greatly for his chief reporter, and thought it would be a shame to lose him of an SS officer came in and saw the picture.
"I have a right to have a picture of my husband on my desk Kurtis. Now aside from the same old arguments that we have every morning, what has your menorah in a twist?" He joked. Kurtis then grumbled something in Hebrew under his breath and tapped the yellow Star of David on his chest. Zeke guessed that Kurtis was just showing as much pride in his label as he did his pink triangle. Zeke took a moment to ignore the Hebrew coming out of Kurtis and looked at him. Kurtis was 375 pounds of Jewish lard. He was short, standing at 5'-4", and walking with a waddle so wide it made Zeke wonder weather or not Kurtis was going to need a pink triangle too. Kurtis was wearing his same outfit of a striped business shirt and blue slacks with dress shoes. Nothing matched, and he stood out in a crowd (and not in a good way).
"Look, we have problems Zeke. I have a problem with the Nazi's out there wanting more 'glory stories', and the locals around here want more stories to convey sympathy on our city. I don't know what to run! Not to mention, Greever and Grover over there can't get the press to work right!" He growled. The felines waged their tails and began to spit curses at Kurtis in Italian. The two felines looked like Gray Tabbies, gray furred with black stripes. They were dressed in dirty and greasy slacks, and white undershirts that were equally greasy. Their hair was kept in hairnets, to keep it out of the machine. Zeke liked Greever and Grover. They were his pure comedy relief, and at one time...lovers. They bore pink triangles on their left pant thigh, thought they were so covered with grease they would need new ones soon.
"First Kurtis, stop yelling at our Italian interns. It's not their fault that our machine was made in 1919 and tends to want to break down every day. Now about the stories, I'll run one of each. The Nazi's want to read their 'glory stories'? Then we'll give them their stories. Our pages will come later in the paper...we should decide on a section and page so that they wont have to even bother looking at all the Nazi stuff." Zeke suggested. Kurtis smiled and clapped his hands.
"See! That's why I gave you this job!" He laughed.
"No, that's not the reason you gave me the job. You gave me the job because I'm the best." Zeke said as he rubbed his nails against his chest in a mocking fashion.
"Hey someday I will be a great reporter too eh?" Yelled the heavily accented Greever. His voice was higher pitched, as if the 22 year old never went through puberty.
"Perhaps. A few more 'private' lessons and you might." Zeke smiled evilly.
"Err...I respect the fact that you are...the way you are Zeke, but could you not solicit sex again for today." Kurtis asked. The felines and Zeke laughed and they all nodded, the felines going back to work on the outdated printing press while Zeke turned to his right once more to regard his boss.
"Alright...alright. Now to get back to business, I think we should chose a letter and number that they will recognize and easily identify. We want our allies out in the streets to be able to read news and get advice right?" Zeke asked.
"Right."
"Well how about...D-3?"
"D-3 hmm...that should work. I approve. Now get to work on that story on the top of your desk and have it to me by 6. I know you are only in here for a few hours but I want it done." He requested.
"No problems. Besides, tonight is the anniversary of my wedding! I have all kinds of nifty things planned for my beloved Fritz." Zeke swooned.
"Yeah yeah...make love later, work now." Kurt said as he walked into his stuffy office in the back. The letters on his glass window were chipping and needed to be repainted. What didn't need to be repainted was the yellow star that the Nazi's painted under his name when they came through. Zeke was glad that wasn't his office; it was too stuffy a place for as snazzy and athletic male as he was.
Zeke began to type into his typewriter. The story another reporter ran, who was now in prison, was about a German officer assaulting a pair of Jewish boys. The boys were simply carrying a cake home from the bakery, when the soldier had insisted on having a slice. The boys protested, saying that it was an important cake and they didn't want to share. The officer then proceeded to beat the tar out of the two, and sent them home with a police escort. The story made Zeke sick. The boys in the city were very fond of Zeke due to his kindness. Zeke was a secret boy lover, taking young boys of ages 8-12 into his bed on occasion, but it was all consensual. Zeke was too timid to force himself on the local queer youth. Only a select few and husband knew about his boy-love, and he wanted to keep it that way.
"This story is pathetic..." Zeke muttered as he imagined the poor and rather helpless boys being beaten by the large and vicious German officer. The only relief that Zeke had was that neither of the boys involved were ever with him. If either were "one of the beauties" as Zeke called them, then the officer would have found himself in a bad spot. A concentration camp was a sentence that Zeke was willing to endure for anyone messing with his "beauties". "I need to spice this up a bit for their delight." Zeke mused sardonically. He typed out his story in about an hour. He lied, and embellished, in order to please the German overlords. He then looked at his paper as he pulled it out of his typewriter. He smiled at his work and tossed his ponytail back. The paper read,
"Potential threat of juvenile delinquency averted!
Terror gripped the alleyway of Steiner Street Saturday near old Jacob's Bakery. Two local youths: Alfred and Mordred Kerplorski, harassed one of Germany's great officers. The officer, Levi Falkoff, was on duty when he saw the two youths suspiciously leaving the bakery with a large cake. The officer went to question the boys when the boys insisted that the officer leave them alone and keep to his own business. The officer, as all good officers, asked the boys politely if he could sample a piece of their cake, and he would mind his business. The boys then continued to harass the officer, and reacted violently. Falkoff was forced to fight off the two boys in order to keep his safety. Falkoff escaped with no injuries, and the two boys are being held under house arrest for assault on an officer. When the officer was questioned on his thoughts towards the punishment of the two boys, the officer reflected the former ruler Marie Antoinette by saying 'Let them eat cake!'"
"This is so much garbage that they'd believe it." Zeke laughed as he took the paper to his boss's office. He knocked on the glass as Kurtis turned around from his papers to regard him. He waved him in and Zeke opened the door to a rush of hot air and the smell of body sweat and mildew. He groaned and handed him the paper.
"What's this?" Kurtis asked.
"That's the Falkoff story. I decided to spice it up a little." Zeke smiled as he leaned against the wooden frame of the office door. Inside the office was an L shaped desk built into the wall, which was covered with papers. There were pictures of Kurtis' daughters on the wall and his late wife, but they were long faded and at least 20 years old. The room had one old swivel chair and a broken exhaust fan in the ceiling next to a naked light bulb that gave the room it's light.
Kurtis looked at the paper and raised his eyebrows. He then slapped the paper on his desk and looked with a confused anger towards Zeke.
"Zeke Von Hurstleburg! Are you trying to get me fired? I cant run a steer shit story like this! It's not even true!" He barked.
"Ah but it is Kurtis. I just told it from the point of view of the Germans. To them the boys would seem to be impudent and rebellious upstarts that deserved their beating. All I did was tell the story with a little Von Hurstleburg jazz, besides, don't we want to keep those German's happy?" Zeke asked slyly
"I suppose..."
"Then why not make a fine comedy out of it! Don't you see the humor? We make them happy by spilling out lies and the truth at the same time. We get to laugh at them because we know what really happened, hence the stories in D-3...understand?"
Kurtis smiled wide and nodded. "Once more you have proved yourself to be a value to your position here Zeke. Tell you what, why don't you just finish the other story I left you and type that one and I'll let you go for the day."
Zeke brightened and adjusted his reading glasses. "Of course Kurtis! Right away!" Zeke took his article over to Greever and Grover to be printed as he headed to his desk to type. He took the next story that was on his desk and looked it over.
The story made him sick. This time it hit him hard on the head. It involved his beauties and people even more dear to him. He read the story from another newspaper that he was supposed to rewrite.
"House of vice in Berlin burned with criminals inside.
Berlin. For years the house of Fredrick Von Hurstleburg had been a place of moral ethics and high values. Recently during a routine inspection, the lord of the house Fredric Von Hurstleburg was found to be engaged in deviate sexual intercourse with some local male youth. The boys are believed to have been connived into obeying the lord's wishes with promises of food and candy in exchange for illegal fornications, and later became willing participants in these immoral acts. 2 other blood relatives of Fredrick, his sons Peter and Marcus, were found to be committing incestuous acts of vice with the lord Fredrick in addition to the above mentioned acts of vice.
Due to the political importance of this family, SS officers decided that it was in the sentence of imprisonment was not in the city's best interest. The group of 6 males was told to report into town for sexual reeducation as an alternative punishment. The group then decided to barricade themselves in their home and continue to commit their acts of vice in defiance of a peaceful resolution, on occasion committing them in open windows. SS officials felt they had no choice but to set fire to the building in order to heard the dwellers into their custody. In one final act of defiance the 6 crowded into the center of the house as it burned around them. There were no survivors. An official investigation into the activities of this family are going to be conducted next month."
"Oh my god..." Zeke muttered as he felt his heart sink into his colon. He held the paper in front of him in disbelief. His father...and brothers...and two of his beauties...all dead! How could it have happened? His father and brothers were all so careful about how open their lives were, and kept their bedroom practices a healthy secret. His brother's incestuous ways had cost them; they probably wouldn't have died if they had been able to keep a cool head. Zeke loved his younger brothers, and was in love with them at a time, but stopped loving them when they turned on him in anger one evening 7 years ago. He hadn't seen them since, but kept in contact with his father and beauties through letters.
Zeke was beyond tears when Alfonz ran into the office. The 12-year-old postal boy, and beauty of Zeke, was holding out a letter for him.
"Zeke! Zeke! It's your father! It seems-" The young boy began, but was cut off by Zeke's hand covering his muzzle. Zeke shed a single tear and removed his glasses, and tossed them aside on the desk, and turned to look at the young Doberman looking boy.
"I know...I know about my father..." He whispered. He removed his hand and the boy adjusted his outfit. He had on a blue suit and cap with a pink triangle on both. Over the young boy's shoulder was a canvass bag of letters that he was supposed to deliver.
"Are you going to be ok sweet Zeke?" He asked his adult lover.
"I don't know, and be careful how you address me here. If they people around here knew I was a boy lover in addition to being homosexual I'd be put in the came faster than you can think." Zeke warned.
Alfonz nodded and sighed. "I suppose you don't want the letter."
"No I don't."
"Alright. So...when will I be able to visit again?"
"Give me a few days, I need time to grieve and think."
"Alright. You're my favorite 27 year old!" Alfonz whispered as he stole a brief kiss before running back out the door to perform his duties. Zeke leaned back in his reclining business chair and rubbed his eyes as he tried to keep from crying further. Zeke then heard the sound of a chair being wheeled up to his side.
"Hey will you be ok?" Greever asked in his heavy Italian accent.
"I don't know...my family's dead." Zeke groaned as he turned to look at his feline comrade.
"Look on the bright side eh? You are now the head of your estate no?"
Zeke scoffed and tapped his boots together a couple of times. "Bah, some estate Greever. There isn't even a home to go back to if I was to claim my rights as head of the estate. Besides...I have no children. I need to have a child in order to be able to claim the family fortune and titles."
"What about," Greever began "What about those beauties of yours? Surely you could have one pose as your son?"
Zeke grumbled and turned his head to the side. "Surely I couldn't! They are my little love-mates. I have sex with them and make them feel special like they do for me. I wouldn't ask them to pose as my kids when I know perfectly well that they have parents of their own!"
"What about your number one, the orphan...Milo. Milo is his name right?" Greever asked as he scratched his long hair under his hair net. Zeke then turned and lunged at Greever, his happy demeanor replaced with anger as he grabbed him by his undershirt and twisted it to get a grip.
"First...stop talking so loosely of my boy-love. Secondly leave Milo out of this."
Greever held up his hands and went jittery with fear. "Hey cool down eh! I just see him as almost your son no?"
"He is a son to me, but also a very special one. He is 11, and I don't want to ruin his life by letting his presence be known!"
"You just might have to..."
Zeke let Greever go so he could calm down. He then stood up and walked towards the door and threw his trench coat on to walk outside. Greever stood and ran over to stop him.
"I need some time to think Greever. Tell Kurtis that the Von Hurstleburg story is being pulled because of 'personal objections'." Zeke grumbled as he walked outside the door. He began to walk across the cobblestone-covered Town Square, and headed in the direction of his flat, where he hoped to get some rest and relaxation. As he walked, one of the German officers decked-out in his gray garb and red armband decided to pace Zeke and talk to him. The Doberman officer had to be only a year older than Zeke. He stood next to him and nodded his head to regard him. Zeke gave a little salute.
"So, writing more stories to please the furher?" The officer said in a nice and cheery voice.
"Yes I suppose." Zeke said in a depressed tone.
"You do good work Von Hurstleburg. If you weren't the way you were...I'd recommend you for military journalism. Perhaps when we invade the United States you would have been able to see it first hand and write about it." The officer affirmed.
"Bah...you wouldn't see me on the field. You only say that to keep me writing more here." Zeke said sardonically.
The officer shook his head and adjusted his military cap. "No I mean it. If you weren't homosexual you would be a fine German officer. You are born in Germany right?"
"Yes"
"Then see? You would be fine Herr Von Hurstleburg. Tell me, if my research is wrong, isn't there a Herr Von Hurstleburg in your life?" The officer asked, making reference towards Zeke's husband.
"Again you are correct. I am married to Fritz Von Hurstleburg. He took my name when we married. My father was an important diplomat, and made our marriage legal."
The officer shrugged and frowned once and then smiled once more. "It's not really any of my importance. I was only curious. I am Reinheart at your service."
Zeke shook his hand and smiled a little. It was rare to meet a kind Nazi. Perhaps he was a rare one. "A pleasure. Zeke Von Hurstleburg is my name, and writing is my game."
"I hope to see you around. I have to get back to my post, but it's nice talking to you." Reinhart smiled as he walked back to his post. Zeke was dumbfounded, but cheered up a bit. The officer had made him forget all about his dead relatives. He didn't ever think about them again that day, even as he headed home.
Zeke's flat was a three story building full of different rooms. Zeke and his husband occupied the top floor, while 4 of Zeke's beauties occupied the bottom two floors. Zeke had disguised his love-nest as a home for abused boys. They boys would move in and have someone to love and be loved by. When Zeke had came forward about being a boy-lover to his husband, Fritz wanted to help him to be able to continue his ways. Fritz leaked word to the boys in the community about a man who wanted younger boys ages 8 and up to come and be houseboys for him. While Zeke was growing away from the amount of boy-love he was doing, he was still avid with his remaining 4 beauties. He was beginning to feel that what he was doing was wrong, and that he should stick to the men of his own generation. He had been a boy lover for 7 years, and was planning on stopping soon. He wanted people's opinion of him to be good, and people to not think of him as some sick pervert.
Zeke climbed the steps to his home, and opened the door. The living room was spotless as always, and two of the boys were asleep on the living room couch. He didn't want to wake them, so he crept upstairs to his bedroom. He opened the door to his diamond shaped bedroom and saw young Milo reclining naked on his bed. The young German Shepard sat half asleep in the rather large pillows of Zeke's queen-sized bed. The boy smiled when he saw his beloved man enter.
"Zeke? You are home hours early." The boy whispered.
"Yes...things came up." Zeke whispered in response. The boy looked and began to run his hand across his body, thinking that perhaps it was time for another wonderful love session.
"Well are we going to?" He asked
Zeke removed his clothes and slid into bed next to Milo, but made no outward signs that he was interested in sex at that time.
"No...I don't think we'll ever be able to again."
Milo looked surprised and shocked. "But why? Haven't I been a good boy?" He asked.
"Yes! You have been a very good boy. I just...can't risk losing you Milo. You are a son to me and I don't want people to know about...well...us."
Milo started to cry, thinking this was all his fault. "I swear I'll do better! I'll do more chores, I wont have sex with any more of the boys, I'll even make you and Fritz breakfast in bed!" He begged. Zeke sighed and pulled the young boy's naked body to his and hugged his body tight.
"Quiet down," He soothed. "It won't do us both good to be upset. I must tell you that I lost my family a few days ago, and it was because my father was a boy-lover like me. I don't want to get caught, so our romps are going to have to stop. At least for a while." He said as he held him, trying to control the arousal he was beginning to feel.
"Can't we just...do it one more time?" He begged. The idea intrigued Zeke a bit. He did love Milo, and figured one last time would be acceptable. He sighed and pet his boy.
"One last time..." He whispered, as the two entangled...and made love.
* * *
"Zeke?" Came the voice of Fritz, Zeke's husband. Zeke was asleep in bed with Milo, exhausted from the afternoon of lust. Fritz wandered into the bedroom with a bag of sandwiches in his right hand. He set them down and walked to the bed. Fritz was a golden retriever looking male. He was dressed in his cook whites from the local deli. He stripped his own clothes off and slid into bed next to his husband. Almost instantly Zeke's eyes shot open as he shivered in shock. The exchange was almost enough to startle Fritz as they sat there staring at each other.
"Don't scare me like that!" Zeke whispered.
"Sorry!" Fritz whispered back, clutching his chest. The two looked at each other, and eventually smiled. Fritz cuddled down next to his life partner on his right and wrapped an arm around him.
"How was work?" Zeke asked.
"Terrible. The Nazi officers on our side of the city decided to come and ruin our business for the day. They came and ordered sandwich meat, and then changed their order claiming that they never ordered what they ordered. Then when they didn't get the new order fast enough they threw half our meat into the dirt. We barely have enough meat now for the end of the week. I don't know if we are going to be able to get another shipment in for at least a month."
Zeke sighed and cuddled his lover. "That's too bad."
"Well it can't be any worse than what happened to you! I heard what happened. Alfonz showed me the letter. I am so sorry love." He cooed. Zeke waved it off.
"I didn't cry...and I'm not going to. I have to move on and concentrate on the moment. If I dwell on my depression I won't be able to get my work done, and I won't be able to stay ahead of the Gestapo."
"You didn't cry? Darling those were your brothers, father, and beauties there!" Fritz tried to figure.
"I know that. I don't want to think about it. So lets just change the subject."
"Alright. I think I might have found another boy for the home."
Zeke groaned and shook his head. "No more boys. It's going to just be you and me."
"But you love boys! You love the boys that I have brought you. I think I have been patient with your love of underage males, and I respect your needs. I have even tome to enjoy their company...seeing how I'll never have a son of my own. Now why throw that away now?"
"Do you really even need to ask that?"
"Of course! Why should we throw away the love we have of these boys?"
"Because. It's...it's not right anymore. I am beginning to regret what I have done and want to stop. Plus, I don't want to endanger the boys...so tomorrow we are going to move all but Milo out of here."
Fritz sighed and closed his eyes. "All of them?"
"All of them. They are concubines to me no more. I have changed today, and I have made up my mind."
"I wouldn't think that such a change could come so quickly...in a matter of hours.
"Yeah well losing your family kind of does that to someone."
Fritz couldn't think of something to counter that. "You are right I guess."
"I know I am right. I want you to take the boys to Greever and Grover's house. Milo I have decided will pose as our son."
"Are you sure that's wise?"
"It's the best choice for him."
"Well...alright."
"Look lets get some sleep and talk this over in the morning."
"Alright. I brought some sandwiches for the boys. I'll give them to them in the morning."
"Good...now rest."
That night was the last night of peace that Fritz and Zeke knew. As the weeks went by, more Nazi soldiers moved into the city and became increasingly problematic for the citizens of Dresden.
Fritz, Zeke, and Milo lived as a unit. The Gestapo had no clue as to the secret relationship that was laying in-between Zeke and Milo, and that was the way that he intended to keep it.
Zeke continued his work of printing up fake glory stories, while the real dirt was on page D-3. The Germans didn't bother to go that far into the paper, so they were none the wiser to the secret and slanderous things that were going on in that section. Fritz's deli went out of business, and he decided to stay at home with Milo and keep house. It was the summer of 1943, and the war didn't seem to be going anywhere. Zeke was tired of war, and tired of the constant threat of concentration camps hovering over his head.
One day as Zeke sat in his desk, dressed in the same outfit he always wore, an SS officer walked into the printing office. Everyone quickly quieted and watched in awe as the soldier sat down next to Zeke's desk.
"I want to thank you." Said the officer.
"For what?" Zeke asked nervously. The officer then grabbed a hold of a crumpled up newspaper that was tucked into his jacket. He slapped it gently onto Zeke's desk and pointed to an article entitled "Potential threat of juvenile delinquency averted!". It was odd to Zeke; he wasn't sure what the Nazi officer had in mind.
"The story you wrote! My friends and family read that article and they couldn't get enough. My mother in Berlin read it and now she wants a hundred copies so that she can mail them everywhere."
Zeke looked at the man and lowered his reading glasses. "What do you have in mind?"
"Well Mr. Von Hurstleburg, I would like to buy 100 copies of that edition."
Kurtis' face fell. "But I don't know if we even have 2 copies left! That was our best selling edition."
The Nazi smiled. "Reprint it. I will pay you all good money." The soldier said a he held up a fist full of money. Everyone, including the already wealthy Von Hurstleburg, looked at the money with awe and greed. "Good money for hard work. You want it then print me 100 copies."
"It'll take us until late tonight to do that, possibly tomorrow. Can you wait that long?" Asked Zeke.
"Time is of little matter to me. All I want is 100 of those papers. You all will be paid for your work. Now I must return...Heil Hitler!" He shouted as he threw the infamous salute. Greever and Grover threw awkward salutes back and the soldier left. Once the door was shut the entire room let out their collective breaths and fell to a sit wherever they were. Kurtis sat in a seat next to Zeke, and the twin felines sat next to their press. After everyone's heart rate returned to normal, Kurtis turned to Zeke with a worried look.
"What if he is lying, what if he doesn't intend to pay us?"
Zeke shrugged. "We do it anyway."
"But why? We are all minorities in here. I have 3 homosexuals, and 2 Jews that work in the field besides me. Why would the Nazis want to give us any money?"
"Because, they have gone crazy eh? De furher has them sucking his ass no? My thinks that is why Nazi's are such ass; they want De furher's ass but they no get it, so they mean." Thought Greever as he wiped some of the grease off of his pants.
Zeke laughed and threw the Nazi salute as he made masturbating motions with his other hind. "Zeig Heil! Zeig Heil! Do you like that? Do you like that?! Zeig Hiel!" the whole room burst into laughter as everyone held their stomachs and cried from the laughter. Suddenly Kurtis stopped laughing and stood up as a wet spot formed in the front of his pants. Everyone stopped laughing for only a moment, and then laughed harder when they saw the urine stain on the front of their boss' pants.
"He laugh so hard he piss his pant!" Shouted Grover as he fell on his side and pointed. Kurtis was so ashamed but so amused at his own expense that he just laughed and walked back to his office. Once the door was shut, everyone kept laughing. It was the most amusing afternoon the three had seen in years. Finally Zeke calmed down and suggested that Greever and Grover get to work on the printing while he get back to work on his own writing.
Zeke began to write an open letter to the community that would be read in the next issue that was published.
"An Open Letter to Dresden
Dear Citizens of Dresden. I know it has been a while since I have taken out an open letter to you all, but I thought I should talk to you about myself. Recently, my home for wayward boys was closed down for personal reasons. I know some of you were not happy to see my home that has been a place of safety for the young boys for almost 6 years. To put it quite simply, I just feel that I cannot afford to have the boys in my home with our oppressors watching over me like a hawk. I am a registered homosexual as you all know, and despite my ways you have all come to trust me as a fine caretaker of your sons. I thank you.
Also, I regret to inform you all as to the murder of my family. My father and two younger brothers were killed in their home for reasons I'd rather not say. The bottom line is our Nazi oppressors burned them to death. I am the soul surviving Von Hurstleburg now. It is depressing to know that I am the last in a long and rich line of Von Hurstleburgs, and chances are that I won't ever have children due to the way I am. I have however, adopted one of the boys I once cared for as my son, the papers cleared. Milo Greves is now Milo Von Hurstleburg.
I urge all of you citizens to keep on the look out. Gestapo patrols are up in the area and I don't want any of my friends out there reading this to end up somewhere horrible. Keep your backs to the wall when you are standing and waiting, and walk in groups if you can. Do not go out at night, and as much as I hate to say it I encourage the younger women to not go outside of their homes. While I have noticed some homosexuality amongst the Schutsstaffel here in town, I can assure you that won't stop the others from taking advantage of your young girls and spawning 'little Nazis'. While I personally haven't run into any problems with the SS or the Gestapo firsthand, we must all be weary of their plans and motivations. Take care of yourselves."
"That should do it...I hope." Zeke muttered to himself as he grabbed the letter to hand to Greever and Grover. He handed it to them and bade them farewell as he headed out the door to go home for the evening. It was late, around nine in the evening. There were clouds overhead, and it had rained the day before. Zeke's riding boots kept his feet nice and dry.
Zeke began to cross town, headed in his usual route that took him past the old Zwinger Palace. It was the city's proudest landmark. He smiled at it, but frowned at the sight of the Nazi flag hanging from the flagpoles as opposed to the old Zwinger banners. Everywhere swastikas were popping up, and it was getting to the point where Zeke wanted to walk around with his eyes closed in order to keep from seeing the symbol of his oppressors.
As he walked, he heard a whisper coming from an alleyway. He turned and looked down the alleyway. All he saw was a lit cigarette and a military cap in the darkness. A gloved finger came out and called him forward. Zeke gulped and put his hands in his coat pockets and headed towards the alleyway in-between two old brick buildings. The man in front of him led him to a rather secluded portion of the alley and looked about for a moment before extinguishing the cigarette. Zeke wondered if he was going to be shot or something. He kept silent and wondered what was going to come of him.
"Good...we're alone..." Came a disguised German voice. I knew the man was a Nazi officer, but I wasn't sure which. I kept silent, not wanting to speak and get beaten for it. The officer looked at him and said. "Are you a good at what you do?"
Zeke looked nervously about and turned back at the officer. "Good at what sir?"
"I'm talking about sucking. Are you good at sucking?" He asked as he pointed to the pink triangle on Zeke's jacket. Once more Zeke looked nervous and kept quiet. "Answer me..." The Officer groaned.
"I...suppose I am..."
"Hmm. I wonder, would you suck mine?" He asked as he began to undo his belt. Zeke looked at the unknown officer in shock and fear.
"I will if you don't kill me...please I'll do anything..." He started to beg. The officer then placed a gloved hand under Zeke's chin and ran a thumb across his lips.
"I wouldn't dream of hurting these wonderful lips of yours. All I want is for you to suck me off. It's been two weeks since I have had anything...and I am in need of release." The officer whispered
Zeke gulped and nodded. "Well...you sure? Are you sure you wont kill me?"
The officer put a hand on the iron cross on his chest and looked right at Zeke. "I swear on De furher that if you give me this pleasure no harm from me shall ever come from me."
Zeke nodded. It was enough. He went down onto his knees as the pants of the officer came down. He saw a rather healthy sized and erect member in front of his face. He reached out to stroke it, but had his hand slapped by the officer.
"No! Just sucking this time...you can do more if I like what you got...next time."
"Great," Thought Zeke. "Now I'm a whore."
Zeke took the officer's cock and worked at it as best as he could. He felt shamed for not staying truthful to his husband, but he feared for his life. The whole while he sucked he could sense the officer's hand on his Luger. Faster and harder Zeke worked, to thrill his "captor" as best as he could.
"You're so good..." The officer whispered. Zeke didn't stop to say thank you, he merely increased his power. Zeke began to melt into the flow of things and turned things up to the level he usually only reserves for Fritz and Milo. The officer groaned and started to buck his hips a little, getting the thrill of a lifetime.
Zeke thanked God that he felt the officer ejaculate. He hoped that it wouldn't take too long. He swallowed the semen in his mouth and stayed on his knees just in case. The officer then pulled his penis back and rested it on Zeke's cheek.
"Good...you were so good...here's a little something for your trouble." The officer said as he reached into his coat's pocket and passed about 50 dollars worth of Marks into Zeke's mouth. The officer then pulled his pants back up and was on his way once more, as if nothing ever happened. Once Zeke was alone he stood up and ran over to a corner and proceeded to lose his lunch. It wasn't the fact that he had swallowed semen, he didn't mind doing that...it was the fact that he had cheated on Milo and Fritz. It made him feel so terrible that he had to vomit.
Zeke walked home as fast as he could, running almost. He didn't want to be called into any more dark alleles by Nazi officers. He ran up to his flat and opened the door and quickly turned and shut the door behind him. He burst into tears and collapsed there against the front door and cried. He heard Fritz coming down the stairs, dressed in his undershirt and boxers. The loyal husband of Zeke saw him sitting there in tears and slowly approached his side.
"Zeke dear? What ever is that matter?"
Zeke cried and reached out to hold Fritz. Fritz accepted the embrace and held the crying male that he loved.
"I'm sorry...he made me do it..." Zeke sputtered.
Fritz wagged his tail and looked at Zeke in wonder. "Who made you do what?"
"Some Nazi made me give him a blowjob. I...I'm sorry!" He cried.
"Oh...oh Zeke it wasn't your fault. Calm down...I still love you." Fritz tried to calm. It went unheard. That night Zeke cried himself to sleep, besmirched with his forced anonymous oral fornications. Fritz didn't know what to do, so he let his husband cry, and held him. It was all he could do.
"By God, I know that Zeke is destined for more than this! One day...you will be free of all of this my sweet Zeke. I just wish there was something I could do...I feel so helpless. I love you my darling." Fritz whispered as he tucked them into bed.