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Bennettworks

This is a work of original historical furry fiction written by me David Bennett. The people of historical significance that are referred to in this story is purely there to make the story go on. Any likeness to someone living or dead is purely by accident. All characters except for Wolfpac are ©Bennettworks: Wolfpac is © his owner and creator Kyle B. For more on Wolfpac, visit www.denofthewolf.net .

This story tends to contain very extreme themes. It contains homosexual content, man-boy love, and extreme sexual intercourse - as well as a concentration camp environment. If gay romance and erotica is not your thing, or if you are under the legal age, then take your cute little ass away from this page and scoot. Otherwise read on, unzip your fly and have a blast!

If you enjoy what you read, contact me, the author at [email protected] or [email protected] . I am taking commissions at this time.

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"You got what?" Donna asked a seemingly exited Zeke.

"Yes, what are you talking about?" Wolfpac asked in wonder.

Zeke smiled, and gave a fat grin. "We are going to escape."

The pair of Wolfpac and Donna looked at him with a skeptical look. They thought that perhaps with the morning's events that he had flipped his lid.

"Are you crazy?" Donna asked softly. "You'll have no chance. Not with Commander Schmidt in command."

Zeke looked at him, and continued to smile. "I have a plan, but this will take about 2 months time, and one murder. I won't tell you anything about it unless you two are willing to help me, and I can't do it without you. So I am not going to bother unless you'll help." Zeke said softly.

There was silence in the barracks. No one talked for what seemed like an eternity. Donna licked his lips and cuddled more into the pair, and sighed. Wolfpac watched this, but seemed to be avoiding the issue that was at hand. Did Zeke have a plan? Would it work if he did? What was this plan?

"Zeke," Donna finally spoke. "Look, I've got to know you pretty well over the course of today, and I think you are shitting us." Donna said as politely as possible.

"I hate to agree with the mink, but he's right love. How in the world could you ever hope to escape?"

"If you watch, you will learn." Zeke said with a smile as he leaned in and gave both men a kiss.

A month went by. There wasn't another breath spoken about escape. There were rumors in the camp that the Nazis were loosing the war, and somewhere Zeke had heard that the Americans had bombed his home of Dresden horribly. He hoped that all his friends made it out of Dresden in time.

Snow was falling down upon the dreary concentration camp; an unseasonable cold spell had fallen upon Germany that month. Zeke was freezing almost every night and day, just hoping to keep warm. The Nazis didn't give him any warm coat to work with, so he had to just, hope for the best.

Zeke and Donna were working together. The barracks were starting to dwindle in population, and the trio of barrack 9 stuck together as best as they could. Donna was there for a wonderful little pseudo mating ceremony in honor of Zeke and Wolfpac, and he was offered into the mix as a third partner. Zeke liked that; he felt kind of like this was a recreation or more of a rethink of when he lived with Fritz and Milo.

Zeke and Milo were in the furnace rooms, burning bodies. The Nazis were getting tired of buying them, and they didn't want to simply burn them in huge gaping fields like other camps were doing, so they used their dead as fuel. The concept to Zeke and Donna was both gruesome and effective.

Zeke wore a pair of heavy gloves of rubber, along with Donna. The pair went naked from the waist up, save an apron to prevent body fluid from getting on them. It has happened a lot, and Zeke though of himself as a horrid kind of butcher whenever he saw his blood soaked apron in the mirror.

Donna started to whistle some kind of a song; the tune was one that Zeke didn't know. Zeke put another body on his furnace's loader, and readied it to be thrown in. He stopped and turned to look at Donna, who had soon taken to singing.

"Oh...I wish I was in Dixie, hooray hooray! I wish I was in Dixie, oh way down south in Dixie..." He sang out loud. Zeke listened, Donna did have a Southern American accent. It took him a while to recognize it, but what was this song about?

"Donna my mink stole, what are you singing?" Zeke asked as he turned around and slid the new body into the furnace, and shut the door.

"Oh that? It's called Dixie." Donna said with a smile, wagging his tail.

"Well, what about it? What does it mean?" Zeke asked, as he watched Donna load his body into the furnace with some difficulty, it was a rather fat one.

"Um...the way I understand it, it refers back to the American Civil War. It was the anthem of the south, and makes reference towards someone wanting to go home." He said as he gave a great exhale as the body slid into the furnace and the door was shut. The two would have 10 minutes to rest after they loaded another body on the sliding table. They walked over to the "pile" they had and grabbed a body, and tossed them onto their loaders.

"The south lost though, didn't they?" Zeke asked.

"Yup!" Donna said as he walked over to Zeke, and leaned up against his loader with him. "Pretty bad too. I mean hell, they put up a terrible fight, and people were scared of them, but they lost all the same."

"Well perhaps the Nazis will go the same route?" Zeke asked in hope.

"All we can do my friend, Is hope that it's the Nazis that we throw in the incinerator next, and not the prisoners." Donna sighed in a depressed sigh. Zeke stared down at the floor. Their boots were soaked with various body fluids from the bodies, and caked with dirt and mud. It scared them to take them off, because of the threat of disease. Luckily for Zeke, he only had caught the flu since he had been there, though the flu was still "nothing to sneeze at". He was down for 4 days and near death, but he pulled through, not wanting to take the easy way out.

"You know what Donna? I've been thinking about something." Zeke began.

"What now? Another escape plan?" Donna chuckled.

"No, and I told you that I am not going to tell you the plan unless I have you and my husband supporting me." Zeke said sternly.

"Alright, alright. Tell me then, what have you been thinking about?" Donna said with a shrug.

Zeke gestured to the large stack of bodies, some clothed and some not. Donna looked over. Donna had been working in the furnace room since he had arrived at Auschwitz, and he had seen some awful things transpire since he had been there. Necrophiliacs that would engage in sex with the bodies of the dead, some saving body parts to use for later...the idea made him sick. He preferred living lovers, and ones that gave you the thanks you deserved after making love to them. The others that were in the incinerator room when he first started were just too sick for his tastes. They all met similar ends; the others killed them off so they could be used for sex. Eventually, only one "body lover" as Donna called them was left, and he dropped dead from disease.

Zeke looked at the bodies he pointed at and shook his head in disgust. "Look, this isn't coal or wood we're shoveling into a furnace, these are bodies of the dead. I honestly think that the other concentration camps are just sending their dead here for us to dispose of." Zeke said as he looked back and squarely at Donna. Donna was still looking at the bodies, and put his hands on his hips and nodded.

"I'm afraid I would have to agree with you Zeke. I mean, there aren't that many left in this camp, at least until we get another shipment in, so the amount of bodies we have here seems to be more than it should be."

"Do the Poofs know anything?" Zeke asked in a manor that seemed as if he wouldn't care the result of the answer.

"If they do, they aren't saying anything. You know the Poofs Zeke; they are weak-minded fools that do whatever people tell them. They are too submissive, and too comfortable here. I may be a bit on the submissive side, and may like a little abuse in the bedroom, but I am never going to become one of them." Donna said with a sneer.

"I agree with you there, but the Poofs need leadership. They need someone to show them that things are going to be ok."

"The Poofs need to help themselves right now Zeke. We have it hard enough as it is at the moment, and we cant have the weight of them on our backs as well." Donna sighed.

"True."

Out of nowhere a voice bellowed from behind them. "Why aren't you two working?" The pair turned around and saw the familiar façade of Schmidt wandering into the room. They stood as proud as they could when he approached, but they could not admit their inner fear.

"We have the furnaces filled, and the loaders stocked sir. We are going to change bodies in about 5 minutes sir, and then we'll be working again." Donna said in a calm explanation.

Schmidt looked at the bodies on the loaders in disgust, and thought to himself that he would rather not look inside the furnaces to make sure they were telling the truth. Instead his fingers fondled the handle of his Mauser and his lips pulled back slightly.

"I thought we told you to load two bodies at a time." Schmidt said in a low tone.

"No sir, Commander Fowler instructed us to load one body at a time." Zeke informed.

"Well Fowler told you wrong. Load two bodies on these at a time, we have a lot of bodies to burn, and I am getting tired of taking a leak on the same corpses over and over again."

Schmidt then proceeded to unzip his pants, and walk over to the corpse pile. The two saw him begin to urinate on the corpses, his stream flowing freely on any body he wanted. Zeke and Donna had to swallow their disgust.

Zeke watched Schmidt do this with a keen eye. He noticed that Schmidt took a long time to urinate, and when he did so, he was fairly oblivious to the world around him. Had Schmidt really been coming in at the same time every night to take a piss? Zeke rubbed his chin, thoughts tumbling inside like cards in a raffle drawing.

Schmidt then stopped urinating, and zipped up his pants again and turned to regard the two. He still didn't seem happy.

"I pissed on those two Jews at the bottom of the pile last week. I come in here every night and see the exact same faces Von Hurstleburg. I want these bodies moved around at lest for when I come to take a piss in here tomorrow!" Schmidt ordered.

Donna gave a lighthearted chuckle and opened his arms. "Well Schmidt honey, why don't you just go out and kill some more people? At least that way when you come in here you a guaranteed fresh faces to see when you take your tinkle." Donna said sardonically.

Schmidt drew his gun, and aimed it at Donna. "Thank you for volunteering." Schmidt said with a sly tone. The trigger on the pistol was pulled, and the thunder of the gunshot went off like a cannon to their sensitive ears. Zeke's hands went to his ears, as he closed his eyes for a moment. When he turned and looked, Donna had a large bullet wound in his chest and his smile had left him. Schmidt turned, and put his gun away, as Donna continued to stand with his arms outstretched.

"Oh god! Oh god no!" Zeke cried out as he took Donna into his arms before he collapsed. Schmidt slowly walked his way out the door, whistling a tuneless melody. Zeke held his friend, and began to cry and panic. "Jesus...Donna hold on! Hold on if you can."

Zeke grabbed Donna's shirt off of the floor and pressed it onto the wound to try to stop the bleeding. The wound was large, and he imagined that it had done terrible damage on the inside. Donna snickered once, and started to drool blood. Zeke kept begging for him to hold on and live.

Then Donna did something Zeke never forgot. Despite his injury, Donna began to sing with a voice that would honor any theater. He sang his finest.

"My eyes...have seen...the glory...of...the coming...of...the Lord..."

When he reached the end of the sentence, he gestured for Zeke to sing along.

"But I don't know the words!" Zeke sobbed.

"Just repeat what I sing..." Donna choked.

And with that, they sang the battle hymn of the republic. Zeke singing in his best English, and Donna singing as good as he could. After singing that, they sang Dixie together. Donna simply stared off into space as he sang, resting in Zeke's arms. He was fading.

"...Oh way down south in Dixie!" Zeke sang. He paused...and waited for Donna to sing his part. Nothing came. Zeke looked down and shook Donna "Come on, what next?" He asked. Nothing came. Zeke started to sob and he shook the body a little more violently. "Come on! I don't know the words! I don't know the words!" He cried. Nothing came. Donna was dead.

Zeke was found the next morning, cradling the dead body of Donna in his arms, crying softly. He was muttering, "I can't remember the words..." over and over to himself. The Nazi soldiers, had come to know Zeke as a man who had been strong in body and mind, and near impossible to break, but Zeke had been broken. Zeke had finally snapped. The Nazis themselves didn't know what to think when they saw him sitting there, holding the dead body of his best friend in his arms and repeating that he didn't know the words over and over again.

An officer leaned out the door and sent for someone to fetch Fowler. When Fowler arrived, there was the sound of shattering porcelain, as he dropped his coffee glass in surprise.

"What the hell happened to him?" Fowler asked one of the Nazis standing around. The soldier shrugged, and shook his head. Fowler looked about. There were six soldiers guarding Zeke, who seemed to be refusing to move from his spot. Fowler knew he wouldn't be a smart one to bother Zeke himself at this point, so he walked over to another officer watching Zeke's display of mourning and mental stress.

"What the hell happened?" He asked again, but to this other soldier. The soldier turned and shrugged, just as the first had, but this one answered.

"I can't be sure sir. From what I can guess was the one he is holding was shot last night."

Fowler moved forward, and pushed the soldier aside gently. He walked forward, and recognized the Mink in his arms as Donna. Fowler sighed, and moved the blood soaked rags aside to reveal the gunshot wound. Fowler swallowed at the devastation he saw done to the body. How could one bullet do such damage?

Fowler leaned in, and brought a finger slowly to touch Zeke's shoulder, Zeke didn't even notice, as he kept trying to remember the words. Every once in a while he would start mumbling the words to The Battle Hymn Of the Republic, or Dixie, as he cried into Donna's hair.

"Zeke...Zeke can you hear me?" Fowler asked softly. For a moment, Zeke didn't respond; Zeke continued to ramble off lyrics to the two songs he was trying to remember.

"Zeke, It's me, Commander Fowler. Can you hear me?" He asked again. This time, Zeke stopped mumbling and grunted once.

"Huh?" He asked. Fowler smiled a tiny bit, and kept his hand Zeke to try to steady him.

"Zeke Von Hurstleburg, can you hear me?" He asked.

"Y-yes..." Zeke wavered.

"Good. What happened here? Can you tell me?" Fowler said as softly and as gently as he could.

"Schmidt...pissed...Donna...shot." He mumbled.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand what you are trying to say. Tell me again."

Zeke inhaled a deep breath, and his sobs ceased, but his tears didn't. "Schmidt came in here to take a piss. Donna said something and Schmidt shot him."

Fowler closed his eyes and nodded, and stood and turned to the soldiers watching the display. "Wake Schmidt, and get him down here."

"But sir," Began one of the soldiers, a Kitsune type of male. "He is with one of his...visitors."

Fowler scoffed. "I don't care whom he is talking to, get him down here now. That's an order."

The Kitsune swallowed, as if it was a death sentence. "But...it's his female visitor." He said softly.

"Does it look like I care? Do I have to order you again? Now go." Fowler barked. The officer clicked his heels, and gave a salute to Hitler, and left...never to return.

Ten minutes later, and after shooting the Kitsune for waking him up, Schmidt appeared in the room in nothing but brief underwear, and a bathrobe bearing the Nazi eagle on the right breast.

"This better be fucking outstanding Fowler. What did you disturb my sleep over?" He said as he looked about the room. It was then he came to notice everyone staring at Zeke, who had regressed into rocking back and forth and mumbling to himself over and over again. Schmidt actually seemed surprised. He looked at Fowler, and stepped forward a few steps. "What the unholy fuck is he doing?" He asked as he looked down and sneered at Zeke.

Fowler looked uncaringly at Schmidt. This was the first time Zeke had ever seen Schmidt and Fowler in the same place at the same time. Fowler was nearly 3 times Schmidt's size, but it was clear who had the brains and the rank out of the two. Zeke wasn't really in his head to register much of this as the two officers stared the other down.

"I don't know, why don't you tell me why you felt the need to shoot that prisoner?" Fowler grumbled as he pointed to Zeke.

Schmidt looked down at Zeke and huffed. "What? He was a prisoner and I was within my rights. What's one less prisoner hmm?"

Fowler looked at Zeke and pulled his lips back in a sneer, and slowly pulled his hat off, and set it aside. Schmidt, for only once in his life, felt a twang of fear. He actually feared Fowler. He didn't realize that he had gulped.

"What's one less prisoner? I'll tell you. When you kill the only friend's the man's got, you destroy the only strings holding him up. Von Hurstleburg may be queer, but he is the best worker we have here, bar none. You would destroy the best worker you have, just to satisfy your own whims?" Fowler growled.

"I am the commander in charge of policing these heathens. That prisoner forfeited his own life! He brought this on himself."

"Damnit! Don't you understand? Just cause you can kill these people, doesn't mean we have to!" Fowler started to shout.

"You are getting out of line Commander." Schmidt said in a falsely threatening manner.

"You are out of line! I am going to have a talk with the Director about this one. I'll see you discharged for this." Fowler said with affirmation.

Fowler slowly turned to leave, as Schmidt flipped him off from behind. Schmidt looked at the other soldiers and pointed to Zeke. "Get the body away from him and get it burned. When you are done with that you can throw him in his barracks. I want him back to work tomorrow!" Schmidt ordered as he turned and left out the door he came through.

The soldiers, all had to fight to get Donna's body away from Zeke, but eventually, Zeke fainted from exhaustion. Zeke was carried back to his bunk, and Donna's body was burned.

Zeke awoke to the feeling of someone rubbing his hand. His tired eyes opened, and he saw Wolfpac sitting in his bed next to him. Zeke let out a sob and leaned over and hugged him tight. Wolfpac sympathized, and gave Zeke some reassuring pets to his head. Zeke cried a little bit more, but then he was out of tears. He looked up and at his love. He didn't even realize that both of them were undressed, and sitting only in their underwear. Zeke felt a soothing hand travel down his back as he hugged his love.

"Donna's dead." Zeke whispered.

"I know Zeke, I know." He said calmly.

"It's not fair...he should have lived! Why did he have to die?"

"Schmidt's an asshole, he does this because he can." Wolfpac mused as he stared down at his love. Zeke frowned; he agreed with Wolfpac, but he couldn't accept that answer. He wanted more than that, he wanted to know exactly why.

"I want to get out of here Wolfpac." Zeke whispered.

"Yeah, I know you do," Wolfpac paused, swallowed, and spoke again. "Which is why I am willing to listen to your plan."

Zeke perked up a little bit. A chance to escape? A husband that was willing to help? This was a pleasant turn of events.

"You will?" Zeke said, a slight smile on his face.

"Of course. This shit has to stop. I have a feeling that Schmidt is just going to take away all of your allies, so you will be alone and helpless. I wouldn't doubt of Fowler is the next to go down, and then me. Donna was killed for a reason; I think that Schmidt is cutting the ropes holding you up. So long as you have one left, you will be fine."

Zeke slowly started to pick up, and melt back into his old self. He sat up, and shook off. He had all morning and night to mourn, now was the time to honor Donna, Fritz, Milo, and his family by using his brain.

"My plan, you ready to hear it?" Zeke asked.

"Yes. We are alone."

"Good. It Is like this." Zeke began as he lay back down and folded his arms across his naked belly. "I read a book once, written by a great novelist. Chances are that all the copies of it in Germany have been burned by now, but I can never forget this book. It was called 'Surviving my Rival's Bed'. In the story, it tells of a great warrior of ancient Rome that is caught during battle, and is made into a prisoner. Now, this male was different than any male the enemy soldiers had ever seen; they had never seen a male be affectionate towards another male. The leader of the enemy army, was also the same way, but it was all a big secret..."

Wolfpac leaned against the bunk post, and nodded. The bed felt odd without Donna in it, but they would have to press on, and continue without him.

"Now, the leader found this different male in the cells one day, and took him into his bed. There, he was forced to do all kinds of humiliating acts for the leader's pleasure. This went on for years. The thing was, the leader got more and more trusting of this prisoner, and started to whisper secrets to him. Not only that, the prisoner had the chance to watch all the enemy troops interact and he learned everything they could about them. One night, when the leader came to his bed for love, and the plan was ready, the prisoner leaped out, and killed the leader. Then, remembering correct timings, guard placements, and the layout of the prison, he was able to escape and return to Rome, and tell his people of the victory over the enemy!" Zeke said with a smile.

Wolfpac shrugged, and clapped a few times. "A great story, but I don't see how that helps us...you aren't sleeping with Schmidt; though I am questioning his sexuality..." Wolfpac said with a half smile.

Zeke, beamed with a secret smile. "Yes, but we do have other things in common with the prisoner. We both know the layout of this camp right?"

Wolfpac thought for a moment, and sighed in curiosity. "As a matter of fact, I think we do." He said with a nod.

"Exactly! We know this place like the back of our hands, and each other's groins. I know all the hiding places in this place. I also know all the ways to get out of here."

"Alright punkin, but that still doesn't solve our problem with Schmidt. You aren't sexing him, how do you expect to get close to him to the point that you trust him?"

"Well," Zeke said with an evil smile. "This is where you come in. Seeing how you and I are the strongest ones left here on the compound, the Nazis are more than likely going to have you transferred to furnace duty alongside me. There, we will have to burn some corpses, but this is where our plans start."

Wolfpac raised his eyes. "Alright, so...what do we do exactly?"

"This plan is going to take place in 5 stages. Stage one is already complete; the planning phase. Stage two, is an observation phase; we observe every soldier here along our escape route, we learn everything about them."

"Everything?"

"Everything! Boot size, leg stride, weather he likes to be on top or bottom during sex, what type of underwear he wears, his breed, when he changes shifts, what direction he faces and when...things like that."

"Wow, sounds pretty thorough." Wolfpac said, genuinely impressed.

"Yes. Phase 3 is a walk-through. More or less, we interact with the troops that we will be passing by or knocking out, and learn even more about them. This way, when we do this, we have phase 2 doubly covered, and this way we have our escape route memorized. Now, the point of this phase is in the event that there is a sudden drastic change somewhere, we can restart and rethink our route and walk through it again."

Wolfpac absently scratched his underwear-covered groin. "How many times should we do the walk-through?"

Zeke thought for a moment. "10, at least. This way, we will notice any changes, and be able to readjust."

"Alright, then Phase 4?" Wolfpac asked in genuine interest.

"Yes. Phase 4 is the official set up. In this phase, we make sure we have everything the way we need it, and we mark the official date. Once that date comes Phase 5 is the actual event."

"Wow...sounds tough." Wolfpac admitted. "Now I hate to sour the mood, but what about Schmidt? I am still wondering how you are going to get close to him."

Zeke grinned wider. "That part is simple. Every night at 9 o'clock, Schmidt comes and takes a piss. His back is to me, and he is vulnerable."

"I take it this is where our route starts? Much like in the book?" Wolfpac wondered.

"Yes. We jump him, and do whatever, and then kill him." Zeke said slowly.

"So, you'll finally get your revenge." Wolfpac said with a chuckle as his hand tapered onto Zeke's thigh.

"Yes...we shall get our revenge."

Wolfpac's hand traced higher up on Zeke's thigh, and massaged with its well-trained skill. "What exactly do you think we should do to him?"

Zeke smiled, as he felt the events of early being pushed into his subconscious as his sheath was pushed from its hilt and made a bulge in his briefs. "I say...we show him a hint of...sexual vengeance. For humiliating me, and killing all my lovers and family; we will make him our bitch."

Wolfpac looked at Zeke with concern as he leaned in and rubbed his face in Zeke's crotch, not caring if anyone caught them. "But Zeke, you told me you were raped and molested. You told me you'd never do something like that."

For the first time in Zeke's life...Zeke made a sneer close to the face that Schmidt makes, and laughed evilly. "In his case, I will make a change. He deserves it." Zeke said with a sneer.

"Baby..." Wolfpac murmured. "This is turning me on."

"You aren't the only one turned on." Zeke said as he opened the fly on his underwear, and let his cock emerge. Wolfpac then slid his face over his abdomen, and let the sex organ of Zeke enter his mouth. Zeke moaned, and pet the back of his head as he ran his fingers gently behind Wolfpac's ears. The pleasure he was feeling was helping Zeke to become this new person. He liked this. He had no fear anymore. Zeke started to get a little aggressive, and he held Wolfpac's face down as he started to hump deep into his mouth, making a slurping moaning sound.

Wolfpac slowly pulled the fly of his own underwear open, and began to masturbate as he sucked off his love. The flavor of Zeke had changed, he seemed to be so sweet now, and harder than before; it was a pleasant thing to have in his mouth. Wolfpac gave a few appreciative groans when he felt the hands of Zeke continue to force him down further, Zeke's cockhead hitting the back of his throat.

"Mmm, I love you Benjamin," Zeke began, using Wolfpac's real name. "Swallow my life into you, so we may live as one being."

Wolfpac did exactly that. He went so far down on Zeke, that he didn't stop until he could kiss the fabric of Zeke's undies. Zeke rolled the eyes back in his head, and began to groan, becoming a complete sexual being. He then lifted his legs, and put them against the bars of the bunk above him and braced himself, all the while gasping for breath...his heart beating faster and faster.

Somewhere in the bunk the door opened, and there was a gasp. Neither Zeke nor Wolfpac heard it, but the presence was there. The door shut, and several footsteps approached, slowly. It was only when the footsteps were at the bedside of the entangled males did they become aware of the sounds clothes coming off. Zeke opened his eyes, and saw the four Poofs, and one Poof boy of 13. The boy was standing at Zeke's right, and was stroking a healthy erection. The rest of the Poofs all were hard, and stroking themselves. Wolfpac opened his eyes for only a moment to see what was going on, but then gestured with his free hand for them to join.

Zeke reached out for the boy, and took the boy into his own maw, and began to suckle at the teen while Wolfpac began increase the speed of his masturbating and the power of the cocksucking. The four Poofs elected to stand around and stroke each other and pet at Zeke and Wolfpac's bodies as their method of participation.

"I...I do rule this place..." Zeke thought to himself. "I am a sex god!

The 13-year-old boy was a handsome Doberman boy, and had a body to die for. Zeke figured that the boy had done some workouts before he entered the camp; it made the sex all the better.

Zeke looked up at the boy, who seemed to be on the verge of ejaculation.

"Are you going to cum boy?" He asked. The boy simply nodded, and Zeke stroked him a few times, and like milking a cow, a stream of semen began to hit his face, after only 20 minutes of work. Zeke closed his eyes and grinned, and let the boys spunk stay there on his face. Zeke then growled lustfully and shredded his underwear, and pulled Wolfpac forward and ripped his underwear in the back, and speared his cock into his ass. For a moment Wolfpac didn't know it was coming, and grimaced in pain, but slowly sighed like one sighs when they ease into a hot bath and started to ride Zeke.

As they went like that the 13 year old moved around back and began to lick at Wolfpac's tailhole lovingly. He had a first hand view of Zeke's cock going in and out of him, and got to taste the sweet flavor of their mixing fluids.

Zeke gripped at Wolfpac's hips and began to thrust as from his left; more semen flew onto him from one of the Poofs surrounding the bed. Zeke smiled evilly, his eyes rolled back in his head to create this almost sexual fiend.

The Poof that had shot his load then moved in and began to suck on Wolfpac a little, but was slapped by Zeke hard. Zeke then gripped his head and said something about sucking his nipples. The Poof did as ordered and suckled Zeke's cum covered chest, while a second of the four Poofs deposited his life seeds on Zeke's face.

"Yes...that's it..." Zeke said in a very deep and low growl. "More!"

It was all too much for the Poofs; they had never seen anything so erotic! The remaining two repeated the action of covering Zeke's body with their jiz, and moaning like little girls. The Poofs then all moved back as the left hand of Zeke wrapped around the cock of Wolfpac and began stroking. Zeke then humped hard into Wolfpac once, and tied them, but ceased humping until he felt he had been rewarded and honored. Wolfpac then gripped the top bunk with his hands, and looked up while closing his eyes and biting his lip. He whimpered, and writhed under Zeke's hand, and then...he came.

By now Zeke was thoroughly soaked in the love juices of all the men around him, and that was all he needed. Zeke then gripped tight at Wolfpac's hips, and thrust as hard as he could with the knot in him. The Poofs then moved in close and began smoothing the cum into Zeke's chest and face fur as Zeke let out one final growl and his cum exploded into Wolfpac. Wolfpac, and Zeke held the other that way for almost 5 minutes before Wolfpac collapsed onto Zeke's chest with a wet smack.

The Poofs were polite, and tucked the two in, and made sure that no one could see with the blankets over them, and dressed themselves. The Poofs were gone in no time; it was as if the event never happened.

Wolfpac slowly licked the cum that wasn't dry off Zeke's face, as Zeke smiled.

"That was the most aggressive I have ever seen you." Wolfpac said.

Zeke rolled his eyes back in his head once more, his eyes two spheres of white, and he laughed. "Things change people. I think I will stay strong and in command." He said, petting his love's head.

"I like that...you turned me on so much. I love being submissive."

"I sensed." Zeke smiled.

The pair then rested, as Soldiers peeked in, and looked at the two laying there almost asleep, and left. The two lovers didn't notice them as well. They were two love struck.

Meanwhile, across the camp, Schmidt was having a little indulgence of his own.

"Yes...swallow that cum...I hear you like that." He whispered.

The person sitting in the chair in front of him moaned in great protest, but had no choice to swallow what Schmidt's cock unloaded.

"I don't see what this has to do with me..." Came a dejected voice from behind. Schmidt held the head of the person against his cock and looked over his shoulder. Fowler, sitting in t-shirt and boxer shorts was tied to a chair, and being forced to watch a horrible display.

The three were in the Director's office. The office was large, and had no windows. All around on the wall were paintings of great German leaders of the past, and shelves of books. The great oak desk of the Director had been pushed in front of the door, and the Director himself was sitting there, with Schmidt's cock in his mouth. Schmidt was completely naked, and had just finished ejaculating.

"I am trying to prove a point." He said.

"And what point is that?" Fowler asked.

"That point is, I do what I want, and if you don't like it," Schmidt grinned and stroked the face of the traumatized Director. "You can suck my cock."

"You...are unbelievable." Fowler growled.

Fowler's presence in the chair, in his t-shirt and boxers was a surprise. Schmidt had dragged him from his bed, and threw him in the office, in order to confront the issue over his actions...and tell his side of the story. Schmidt had lost his mentality in the minds of the two hostages. H was acting so oddly.

"Unbelievable? How so good Commander?"

"You hate gays, and yet you make Von Hurstleburg and that Mink have sex in front of all the boys, and then you pull this stunt. Will you explain yourself?"

There came a mumble of agreement from the director. Schmidt looked down at him lustfully, and leaned in and whispered something, and there came an even greater protest from the Director. Schmidt took tight grip on his head, and urinated down the Director's throat. Fowler turned his head away, and tried not to vomit.

"Why don't you just kill him and get it over with you moron! You've done enough."

"Oh, I'll let him go in a second, I just want to mark my territory. You are my bitch now Director Stienwick. Now as far as hating gays, who ever said I wasn't gay myself?" He said slyly.

"But you have 14 and sometimes 7 year old girls brought to your bed. I have seen you fuck them myself!"

Schmidt pulled back, and the Director turned his head to the side and nearly puked. He hacked and coughed and fought to control his bowels. Schmidt then walked over, and stroked the side if Fowler's face. "Good call. You are correct. I am not gay, nor am I bisexual. I just enjoy sexual torture. For example, the way I tortured Von Hurstleburg and that American stripper I killed, and now the Director. To put it rather simply, I do what I want."

Fowler shook his head and sighed. "And what are you going to do with me now?" Fowler asked.

"Good question. Hmm...I recall a 14-year-old Jewish girl I killed...and what I did with her. I think that...will be your punishment for crossing me."

"You mean?" Fowler gulped.

"Yes...and I know what you are Fowler...but, we get to play secret for a secret now. If you try to turn me in, I have evidence of your debauchery, and I will turn you in for that. I suggest you forget you ever saw me do this, and as motivation, I am going to sand you on 'the tour de camp'."

No one heard Fowler struggling as he was dragged around camp, and sexed by everyone but the men of Barrack 9. Just about everyone was too busy sleeping. And no one found out...

...At least...no one but someone with the number 1110624 on his arm...