In which Peiper teaches Werner Wolff a thing or two
More Klaus Barbie pls
“Never masturbate a young man by the window. You never know on whom it might fall.” (The Young Girl’s Handbook of Good Manners by Pierre Louys)
The SS and feederism
She fed him well on her mother’s cooking, all the good German food: potatoes and pork swimming in butter, roast meat, thick sauces and pastry, chocolate and pie – don’t forget the cream, dear, and the sweet milk for your coffee and do take another slice, I don’t want to throw a thing away. She watched how he began growing, swelling, soon he was too big for his uniform, so they opened up the darts and that made a little more room and the uniform didn’t look sharp any longer but he looked happy, her plump little husband. Eventually even that wasn’t enough and new clothing had to be made to fit his Rubenesque shape, twice the fabric consumed, and new boots for his fat thighs and how he was sweating to get up the stairs now, sweating even in spring sun (the heavy black fabric certainly contributing too), and his face was strawberry red all day long as he sat at his desk and breathed heavily, crushed by his own weight – oh, dear, don’t talk about the war now, you’re entirely unfit for services, don’t be silly, and who will make your favourite cake then and who will cut your steak, no, you stay with me, you helpless little thing.
first time
Hermann didn’t understand what prompted Bruno to change his mind about the thing (being fucked up the arse), but he wouldn’t argue, no, Bruno knew what he wanted, more importantly: what he wanted Hermann to do, and the mere mention of it, the way the words came over his lips with a frown – “I have decided that you may penetrate me, now” – like a legally binding obligation, it made the blood rush to his cock.
His riding crop was still on the table when Bruno braced against the edge of it and he was in full uniform, buttoned up to his chin, only the hat he had left at the door, and like a disobedient cadet bracing for a caning he pulled his trousers down just enough to allow Hermann to push his fat cock between the slim thighs (their slimness did not hinder the friction as Hermann could make up for it with the size of his cock), and Hermann wanted fuck him like that first, slow, intimate and gentle – while he collected spit in his mouth to rub on himself for lack of lube, again and again, no amount of it seemingly sufficient to cover his entire length, but Bruno would not settle for less. “you wanted to sodomize me,” he said, “now do it.”
Bruno’s cock hung flaccid between his legs, he was holding on to the edge of the table, his knuckles turned white, he was trembling and with every fraction of an inch that Hermann managed to squeeze into his arse, he got tenser, tighter, biting his lips harder, sweating cold from the pain of it, and the horror of the feeling, to be so very stretched, his insides incapable of making space for that monster, it felt like a stake was being driven into him and it looked like that too, and Hermann felt so very sorry, he placed kisses on the back of Bruno’s neck but Bruno shook them off, slowly like a dying man would swat flies and through gritted teeth he snarled at Hermann to get on with it and fuck him like he wanted to be fucked himself.
Röhm with a blond beauty of an SA man with a lovely ass
What a lovely lad he was, proportioned like a young god, the way flesh and labour had made him further flattered by those tall laced boots, the tight cinch of his belt (the soft skin of his belly was sore under it, thin fur growing out of red roots) and although he’d never had a horse’s back between his strong thighs his breeches were cut like those for riding, hugging his knees, bold in shape and provocatively tight on his lovely ass, and although he was quite a bit taller than Ernst he somehow always managed to look up to him, all things that could be ignored as mere vanity, but the way he ran his fingers through that blond shock of hair, sculpting it back in shape – you want me to pull on it, don’t you?
Ernst bought him a beer and three hours later they were in his living room and the lad sat on Ernst’s couch, bend forward with his legs spread wide, elbows on his knees and hands on his chin, listening as Ernst played Wagner for him on the piano, something grand and boisterous, a chorus of men’s voices resonating in each note, and although the notes sang to God’s glory to the lad it was a cupboard’s street brawl and he dreamed with tears in his eyes of boots hitting the ground and skulls cracking – and rather undignified given the great German master’s presence in the room he stroked his cock through the fabric of his trousers and stained them too.
For the benefit of the neighbours, who didn’t enjoy a boy’s moans quite as much as he did, Ernst put on a record, Wagner of course, and with some jest to it he made the lad bend over the piano and took it on himself to pull down those very flattering breeches as far as the boots allowed, and because a fat ass like that really deserved it he went down on his knees, spread the lad’s cheeks (quite a handful) and licked his tight little hole until it was a dripping wet cunt and the lad begged – literally, verbally begged Ernst to fuck him in the ass, please, god, please, in as many words as he could get over his lips without choking on them, and Ernst drew it out, fucked him only with his tongue and with only one measly finger, just to see how desperate the pleading would get before he finally stuffed him with his cock while holding him by his pretty blond hair; the lad almost groaned louder at the sound of Ernst’s belly slapping on his ass than the feeling of the fat cock fucking him open, either way he quickly shot his spunk all over the shiny black surface of the piano.
First kiss
He should have
noticed earlier perhaps but he’s so used to being the centre of
attention (and he’s so keen on it too) it felt like Udet was only
paying him the respect he was due; but then one night, after perhaps
one drink too many the way he stares at him becomes so blatant even Hermann can’t
interpret it as anything else than the moonstruck longing of a
lovesick puppy. And just as it
begins to dawn on him what is going on, Udet finally plucks up the courage to
lean in and press his lips to Hermann’s mouth, only briefly, hardly
more than a dry bashful peck but it makes his intentions abundantly
clear and for a moment Hermann considers this, considers him: the
bright eyes and pert nose and expressive mouth, the line of it more
tempting than he would have thought, or perhaps it’s only that now that he knows what’s on
offer it’s become irresistible and he doesn’t think twice but reaches out to cup
Ernst’s jaw in his hand and pull him forwards into a proper kiss, and
Ernst can’t believe his luck for a second, he stares at Hermann
incredulously but then, once the moment of shock has passed, he opens
his mouth only to eagerly for Hermann’s curious lips and lets himself
be thoroughly kissed. He sighs when Hermann pushes his tongue into
his mouth and slides it along his, wetly, hungrily, and soon he’s
clutching at the lapels of Hermann’s uniform jacket, clutching at him
as if his life depended on it, holding fast, and kisses him back like
a drowning man gasping for air.The
quick, hot, panting catch of their shared breath make the air of the
room thrum around them, it seems as though he merely blinks and Ernst
has already clambered fully onto his lap, his urgent, eager little
hands pawing with clumsy enthusiasm all over him (he pushes his palm
so roughly down Hermann’s chest he catches his finger on the sharp edge
of a medal and yelps in wounded surprise before almost instantly
forgetting the small hurt) as he presses his whole little body so
hungrily into each kiss that they teeter for a moment and then
Hermann finds himself on his back, Ernst staring down on top of him
with wide eyes. He looks a trifle dazed, like a dreamer who finds
himself suddenly awake, but Hermann grins and digs his fingers into
the nape of Ernst’s neck and yanks him back down into the kiss while
his other hand works between the squeeze of their two bodies and with
blind determination into the front of Ernst’s trousers, whose tongue
stills in his mouth as he gasps and when Hermann murmurs for him to,
take
them off, the
gasp stutters into a boyish whimper.Ernst’s nods with such rapid
little bobs of his head it might have been amusing in other
circumstances, now it just makes Hermann’s hips twitch up against the
warm body weighing them down as Ernst fumbles with his trousers and
then, a moment of hesitation and Hermann can see the way his friend
has sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, the shuddering intake of
breath, but he’s no patience to wait and puts his own hands over
Ernst’s and tugs the waistband down around his thighs – Ernst’s
cock springs up against his belly at once, stiff as anything, such a
sweet little thing (and it is
little, just as compact as Ernst himself, short and pink and slender,
his balls in perfect proportion and pulled so tight to his body they
hardly seem to hang at all) that Hermann can’t help running his
tongue over his mouth at the sight, but it’s only when he curses,
fuck,
that’s nice,
that he hears Ernst exhale above him in relief and looks up to see a
wide, bashful smile blooming on Ernst’s face before he’s being
dive bombed with kisses once again.
Otto Skorzeny is the tol bean in this fandom! Prove it!
He’s a clever one, he knows his life is on the line; like treading between sleeping snakes his words and movements are slow, only his eyes dart left and right, batting eyelashes at every interrogator, guard or nurse – strange to see such a huge man act like just a little boy.
When you first put the collar on him he smiled shyly, his lips brushed gently against your hand, planting docile little kisses on the back of it.
Today he’s been a very good boy and he deserves his treat, you call him over with a pat on your leg and he comes crawling to your feet, a beautiful fighting dog, thick with muscles, but so very nervous and there is no reason to be nervous, you have always been kind to him, you pet and stroke him and run your fingernails along his scalp and again you grab him by the hair and pull his face between your thighs and make him taste you.
Reichblr Ficathon 