The Arrangement

[Col. R. Hogan]

Blood. Screams. Maniacal laughter. That was the scene Colonel Robert E. Hogan, aka Papa Bear, had returned from his solo mission to find. His jaw dropped when he took in the shocking scene. Bodies of both prisoners and Luftwaffe personnel alike lay in piles on the ground, Langenscheidt among them. More gunfire pierced the air while Major Hochstetter and his Gestapo goons continued their mass execution. Robert watched in horror as first Klink, then Schultz were executed. He felt his stomach churn. Untimely death aside, Schultz had been a father of 5. Him, Klink and Langenscheidt had all been good men who’d worn the wrong uniforms. Now all of them were dead.

How could this have happened? Everything had been fine when Robert had left! He didn’t know, but he intended to find out. He ducked into the hollow tree stump, practically flying down the ladder. Then he drew his Luger and sprinted for the tunnel under Barracks 2. His pulse was beating furiously in his ears. The major had gone too far this time. And where the hell was General Burkhalter? Surely he had to give his approval for something like this! Robert didn’t know much about the relationship between the Luftwaffe and the Gestapo, but he did know that the cantankerous staff officer detested Hochstetter with a passion. He couldn’t picture the man giving his approval for that reason alone. The colonel was willing to bet that Burkhalter had no clue about the massacre currently happening at Stalag 13.

‘Maybe I can get ahold of him, tell him what’s going on’, Robert thought. He changed directions and headed for the radio room instead. The two goons he found waiting for him in there caused his blood to run cold. So the tunnels had finally been discovered. Well, that explained everything. Of course Hochstetter would use this as an opportunity to get rid of Klink and Schultz; he had never liked them anyhow. It didn’t explain the other guards, though. Langenscheidt had been a sweet, soft-spoken guy, a man who never bothered anyone. Maybe that was why he’d been killed.

“Drop the gun or we torture your remaining men,” one of them ordered. “Schnell!”

Robert complied. It was probably just as well – his hands were shaking too badly to aim properly. His heart was in his throat the entire time he was handcuffed. He stayed silent while the two men escorted him through the tunnels – his tunnels – and forced him to climb up the ladder under Barracks 2 at gunpoint. It didn’t help when the same kraut that’d previously spoken shackled his ankles together to prevent him from running. Both of them were grinning as they frog-marched him outside and forced him against a wall.

“There you are, Hogan. How nice of you to come back,” Hochstetter sneered. “I wondered if you vould flee or not. As you can see, I am doing a bit of…house cleaning. However, I have saved ze best for last.”

The colonel’s eyes followed his hand to where Newkirk, Carter, LeBeau and Kinch were being held at gunpoint. Each of them looked terrified. LeBeau was busy ranting at his captors, telling them different ways to go fuck themselves in French. It would have been funny if the situation hadn’t need so dire. As it was, seeing the gleam of hope appear in their eyes the moment they saw him made Robert’s stomach twist. He knew his men expected him to save them. The problem was, his bag of tricks was empty. He couldn’t do a damned thing when he was bound like this. Even if he tried to wiggle out of his handcuffs, he was still too new at doing so to get himself free in a timely fashion.

“No,” Robert whispered. He cleared his throat and tried to sound authoritative. “Let my men go, Hochstetter! You have me – I’m the man you want. You don’t need to do this!”

“Ah, zat is where you are wrong. They are spies and must be treated as such,” Hochstetter replied. “The moment I give ze order, all but one – ze blond sergeant – vill be shot, and it vill be your fault for dragging them into zis. Their blood shall forever be on your hands. As for you, I plan to make you my guest at headquarters. You are going to tell me everything I vant to know or suffer ze consequences. Your friend vill be my insurance zat you cooperate with me.”

“The Guv’nor ain’t gonna tell you a bloody thing, you twister!” Newkirk yelled. “Give ‘im hell, sir!”

“Fire.”

Robert screamed as the dead bodies of Kinch, LeBeau and Newkirk hit the ground. The world seemed to spin for a few seconds. His friends…he had failed them. He had failed everyone. Hearing Hochstetter cackle like this was free entertainment made him sick to his stomach.

“Major, please. Let Carter go,” he pleaded. “He’s just a kid. I swear, we can work something out!”

“Oh, I know ve can.” Hochstetter snapped his fingers at his goons, signaling for them to stuff Carter into a waiting transport truck. After the two officers were alone, he gently caressed his nemesis’ face with one gloved hand. “You are a beautiful man, Colonel, albeit a very mouthy one. But I intend to change zat. Before our time together is through, you vill learn obedience and submission. I vill break you until you beg to service me with your mouth and willingly offer me your ass any time I want it. If you are a good enough lay, I might even permit you to live as my sex slave. What do you think of zat idea?”

“I think you’re more sick in the head than I thought,” Robert croaked. God, this side of the major was even worse than his cruel one. “I’ll never submit to you!”

“Ve shall see, Hogan. Ve shall see,” Hochstetter told him. He gave the man’s balls a tight squeeze through his pants, smiling when he yelped. “Load Colonel Hogan into the truck too! Ve have places to be!”

The colonel’s heart hammered in his chest as he was shoved inside next to Carter. He wanted to ask so many things. How their secret had been discovered, what had happened before he’d returned, why his standing order to evacuate the camp in an emergency hadn’t been followed. Yet all he managed to do was pat Carter’s hand. He silently vowed he would get them out of this, come hell or high water. There was no way he would lose his last friend to this homicidal maniac as well.

***

In a damp cell at Gestapo headquarters, Robert’s eyes watered from the pain of a whip being used to strike his back. He refused to give Hochstetter the information he wanted. This crazy kraut was probably going to kill him anyhow – why should he tell the man a damned thing? It made no sense. His eyes were wild from fear by the time it stopped.

“You are a stubborn one, I vill give you zat,” the major said. He walked around the table his nemesis was chained to, admiring the way Hogan’s lean body looked stretched out at a 90 degree angle. “Perhaps I should try a different approach instead.”

“Fuck you!”

“What an excellent idea.” He stripped Hogan of his boxers – his last remaining shred of dignity – and forced his legs apart. “Have you ever been with a man like zis before, Colonel? If not, I think you vill find you like it.”

Truth be told, Robert hadn’t. He enjoyed the company of men, but only as a top. The last thing he wanted was for his first time bottoming to be with this bastard. It didn’t appear he had a choice in the matter, though. He struggled against his chains to no avail, trying desperately to escape Hochstetter’s touch. Robert gasped as a finger covered in cold Vaseline was shoved into his hole and began massaging it. To his horror, he found himself becoming erect.

“S-stop! I have rights – ahhhh,” he moaned. Shit, what was wrong with him? He didn’t want any of this! Robert didn’t know, but the dual feelings of horror and arousal were very confusing. “Mmm, yes – Goddammit, I mean no! Get away from me!”

“Nein, not when you seem to be enjoying yourself so much,” Hochstetter chuckled. He slipped another finger in, cackling at the way the colonel’s body spasmed. “Ask me nicely to fuck you.”

“No!”

“Would you rather I do zis to Sergeant Carter instead? Right now, he is unharmed…but I can quickly change zat,” he growled. He brought his free hand around to squeeze Hogan’s balls. “Ask, or I shall make you watch while I take him instead. And I won’t waste any lubricant on him if I do. You have 10 seconds, Hogan. 1, 2, 3…”

“Okay, okay! Just…just don’t hurt him,” Robert pleaded. He let out a shaky breath. “Please fuck me, Major.”

“Very well.”

He shut his eyes tight at the sound of a belt being unbuckled. Tears of humiliation ran down his cheeks when the man’s cock thrust into his ass for the first time – the first of many still to come. Robert tried to tune out the wet sound of him being violated, tried to will himself to forget where he was. That worked until he felt himself being stroked. He moaned against his will, his body thrashing in pleasure like that of a lover instead of a forced victim. This was a whole new level of degradation. He wanted to curse at the injustice of being forced to climax under such circumstances, but he couldn’t. The words simply wouldn’t form on his tongue. Feeling warm seed spurt into him only made things worse.

“Excellent, Hogan. I think you shall make a fine sex slave,” Hochstetter announced. He pulled out of the American and grinned. “You see? Life can be very nice for those who defect to ze Third Reich.”

“Go to hell and take your fellow Nazis with you, including the head fruitcake in Berlin!” Robert hissed. “I’ll never defect!”

The major backhanded him. “I think, Colonel, zat you need another lesson in what submission is. Perhaps then you vill learn to mind your tongue.”

***

“Thank you for allowing me to suck your cock,” Robert said to the Gestapo captain he’d just finished blowing. He swallowed the seed in his mouth and smiled. “I appreciate the opportunity to serve a member of the master race.”

He shuddered, enjoying the feel of the major pounding into his ass. It had been three months since the day he’d begun his new life. Through a combination of harsh pain and blinding pleasure, he had finally learned how to obey his betters. Hochstetter – who he had been taught to call Master – had trained him to be a passive sex slave who was an expert at sucking cock. Robert had standing orders to offer a blowjob to visiting Gestapo personnel, along with anyone else the major stated he wanted to impress. Sometimes the visitors would be offered the chance to fuck him too. Fast and hard, slow and gentle, it didn’t matter. Robert liked all of it. He had learned many things in those three months: how to pose while sitting at his master’s feet, what positions were acceptable to adopt while his hole(s) were being used, how to properly express gratitude, and so much more.

Showing proper appreciation was, from what he’d been told, a key part of accepting his role in the new world. It was one of the reasons the colonel had to thank anyone who used his body, always had to swallow whenever someone came in his mouth. The other was to remind him of his place. He was a cherished possession and he adored that. Robert loved being called a good slave in his master’s native language, loved expanding the limits of his pain tolerance in the hopes of seeing a rare smile. True, he often went to bed with marks on his body, but Hochstetter had said it was necessary to show how much he cared. Robert had no reason at all to doubt his word. After all, he was permitted to service everyone at Gestapo Headquarters in his free time if he chose to do so…and he did. Being given such freedom was the greatest gift he could ask for. It showed that the major truly cared about keeping him happy.

Robert had quickly found he was treated well as long as he did what he was told. He’d also learned Hochstetter liked seeing him ask and/or beg for things. Nothing pleased his master more than to see him on his knees every morning and evening, pleading to have his body used so he could prove how devoted he was. As of two weeks ago, the colonel had been trusted enough to sleep in Hochstetter’s bed with him. And he enjoyed it. He reveled in pleasing the man, in the black collar with silver SS runes embroidered on it that was locked around his neck. It was a symbol of pride.

Occasionally, he had a nagging feeling he was forgetting about something or someone, but the little voice that sounded like his master always chased it away. Which was fine – it was more important to him that he obeyed than anything else. If he didn’t, the major punished him by fucking him with large items and slapping him in the face. Robert much preferred to be praised instead. The last thing he wanted to do was be tossed aside because he failed at being a good slave. Besides, there was no pleasure in suffering if it was due to disappointing his master.

“Keep holding zat position while I fuck you, Colonel,” Hochstetter sneered. He fisted his hand in Hogan’s dark hair and yanked it, relishing the breathy sound that was both pleasure and pain. “You love taking my cock like zis, ja?”

“Yes Master,” Robert answered obediently. “Am I at a good angle for you, or should I move?”

“Stay right where you are,” he grunted. “Hauptmann Bergmann, go get ze sergeant and bring him in here to see zis. I don’t think ve need him around anymore.”

“Jawohl, Herr Major.”

Robert whined when the man slowed his pace. He arched his back in the way he knew his master liked before looking over his shoulder. Sometimes that would earn him a beating; other times, it earned him a hand job. He hoped it was the latter. Honestly, it all depended on if the major was in a good mood.

“Oh, alright. You have performed quite well for me today,” Hochstetter remarked. He began stroking Hogan’s cock with his hand and sharply yanked his hair again with the other one. “I might start your next level of training in a day or two. What do you say to zat, hm?”

“Whatever you decide will work for me, Master.”

“Guter Sklave.”

Carter’s eyes widened the moment he entered the room. There on the table was Colonel Hogan, moaning and pleading for more as his ass was plowed by none other than Major Hochstetter. His stomach churned in disgust. So this was what his CO had been doing all this time! If he survived this war, he fully intended on reporting everything he was seeing to London. It was one thing to be forced, but Hogan was clearly enjoying himself. Carter thought he might be sick.

“You filthy traitor! How could you?” he spat. “And with him, of all people?!?”

“Hogan is my willing sex slave now, Sergeant. He takes a great deal of cock in both holes on a regular basis and enjoys ze feeling immensely. Actually, he cannot get enough of it,” the major explained. “Isn’t zat right, Hogan?”

“Correct, Master.”

Carter shook his head. “You’re a freak, Colonel. I don’t know how I could have ever trusted you, but I don’t anymore. You’ve lost any respect I ever had for you. I hope you and your pet kraut are very happy!”

“Look buddy, I don’t even know who you are. All I know is that you’re one of the Allies who somehow evaded justice after the war ended in victory for the Fatherland. Therefore, you need to die,” Robert growled. “Would you please kill him so we can get back to our fun, Master?”

“Wait, what?”

“Certainly,” Hochstetter crooned. “In fact, it would be my pleasure.”

He let out an evil laugh and motioned for the captain to take Carter out of the room to be executed. By sheer coincidence, both he and Hogan came at the same time the gunshot rang out. Hochstetter wore an ear-to-ear grin. Brainwashing this man thoroughly enough to make him believe Germany had won the war had turned out beautifully. The same night he’d begun allowing Hogan to sleep in his bed, he’d recorded the colonel swearing undying allegiance to the Führer – along with his name, rank, serial number and branch of service – and sent the tape to London with one of his spies. It ensured Hogan would always remain loyal. On the off chance he managed to escape, the Allies would believe he was a traitor and kill him. But since Hogan thought his side had already lost the war, there was no chance of that happening. The major was merely taking precautions.

“Guter Sklave. You made a wise choice with zat request,” he remarked. “I think you deserve a special reward tonight.”

“Thank you, Master. I like rewards,” Robert said. “Thank you for fucking me too. I appreciate it.”

“You are most welcome.”

He purred, enjoying the feel of his master’s hands on his body. “Master, who was that fella anyhow?”

“Technical Sergeant Andrew Carter of ze United States Army Air Forces,” Hochstetter answered. “Considering he used to be your friend, I am surprised you don’t remember him.”

The colonel tensed as everything came back to him in a rush. The day everyone had been killed at Stalag 13, his capture…everything. Carter was the sole reason he had begun to submit in the first place, and now the man was dead. Killed at his request. ‘Dear God, what have I done?!? Carter was my friend and I betrayed him!’ he berated himself. ‘Hochstetter was right – their blood is on my hands. Maybe I deserve what I’ve become...No. That’s whatever brainwashing he did to me talking. I need to get out of here ASAP!’

The major narrowed his black eyes. “You seem rather agitated all of a sudden, Hogan. Must I punish you instead of rewarding you?”

“No...no Master. I’ll be good,” he choked out. He knew he still had to play the game until he could figure out a way to escape this hellhole. It wouldn’t do to tip his hand ahead of time. He swallowed hard and added, “Please forgive me for getting sentimental. It won’t happen again.”

“Gut. See zat it doesn’t,” Hochstetter said gruffly. “Once Hauptmann Bergmann returns, you can prove how much you still enjoy being my slave by begging him to fuck you hard. Understood?”

“Yes Master.” 

[Col. R. Hogan]

Robert shrieked as his eyes flew open. He sat up in the bed, his heart pounding from the memories that’d flooded his mind while he slept. He doubted he’d every fully recover from the abuse he’d suffered at the hands of that crazy kraut. By the time he’d managed to escape, Hochstetter had long since burned his uniform. Robert counted himself fortunate that Julius and Franz had been home when he’d stumbled upon their manor into the woods, naked as the day he’d been born except for his collar. He probably would have died that day if they hadn’t been. Or worse, recaptured.

The colonel shuddered. Thank God Julius had shot the major…and that Franz was a count whose word carried considerable weight in Germany. They had been able to pin Hochstetter’s death on the Underground. Robert was also thankful they hadn’t turned him away after hearing part of his story. He had really thought they would call him a freak once they’d learned he liked men. Instead, they’d taken him in, and now he was a lover to the two half-brothers. Well, sort of. Franz had insisted he needed to fully heal before either of them would consider fucking him. And even then, it would be Robert’s choice if he wanted to or not. He had been surprised he'd been given a choice in the matter to begin with, but had expressed his appreciation nonetheless. Needing to heal was why he was currently limited to giving blowjobs.

If he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t expected to get along so well with Julius or Franz. Heaven only knew he hadn’t liked either one of the men when he’d met them at Stalag 13! However, they’d turned out to be decent men. The side of him that enjoyed sweetness melted under Franz’s touch. If he wanted something a little rougher, he sought out Julius, who was all too happy to accommodate him. Everything worked out nicely. There were a few rules, though. Most of them involved him doing anything stupid or purposefully doing anything to get himself hurt. Julius had made it quite clear that if he did either one, he would receive a sound spanking on his bare behind, the same way schoolboys did whenever they did something foolish. Franz had added that they wouldn’t abuse him, but they would ensure his bottom was tender after the fact. So far, Robert had not done anything to earn one. He remembered being spanked by his old man all too well and didn’t fancy reenacting that stage of his life.

He hoped not calling for a servant to give him a sponge bath didn’t count in either category. His feet might have still been shredded, but the rest of his injuries had healed in the two weeks he’d been here. He could bathe himself. Besides, he wasn’t used to having servants at his beck and call. Robert was a man who liked to be self-sufficient. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and limped to the bathroom, gritting his teeth with every step. An actual shower would be worth it. He turned on the hot water, letting it heat up before he stepped into the stall. Life would be good as long as he could bathe and get clean before the brothers returned from the store.

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

In fact, the brothers already were back. Franz heard the shower turn on upstairs and quietly waited to see if he needed to intervene. Letting Robert get his legs under him - literally - was a good thing. God only knew what the man had been through, so any little thing he did to help himself was good. Besides, expecting him to stay in bed for months wasn't exactly reasonable. Robert was... energetic. He liked to do things, liked to talk and explore. The first few days had been eerie, to say the least. The feisty, wild man who told Franz exactly what to do with himself hadn't been there. It had taken Julius slapping his face several times to get a rise out of him, something that greatly unnerved Franz.

It was good they killed Hochstetter when they did.

Julius sat on a table and lit his cigarette. "Five Marks says he's going to yell for help in... two minutes."

Franz rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to take that bet, brother, because I think you're right. Go bring up his things and leave them on the bed - he does need to have some privacy, you know."

Julius tossed his cigarette into an ashtray and slowly stood. He was a lean man, languid in his movements, and his shoulder length red blond hair had been tied back with a small piece of cord. You could always take the man off the street, Julius mused as he caught a bit of his reflection, but you could never take the street from the man. Franz was just as soft as nobility tended to be, while he was as cold and wild as the Siberian winter winds. Julius decided to wait on Robert after he delivered the clothes and shoes. After all, there was a chance the man would fall and need someone to save his fool ass.

Again.

[Col. R. Hogan]

Robert showered as quickly as he could. His feet were stinging something awful, making it hard to stand up. He debated ringing the cowbell that every room had to get some assistance. Martha was on duty today – maybe he could convince her to help him and not tell anyone. She had quickly taken a liking to him and might…No. He couldn’t ask that of her. Franz was her employer; he didn’t want to (potentially) cost the woman her job by asking her to lie for him. He was just gonna have to tough it out.

That was easier said than done. He swayed a few times, nearly falling over the last time. A short yelp escaped from his lips when his head slammed into the wall rather hard. He shook off the stars swimming in front of his eyes and rinsed the soap from his body. By the time he finally turned off the water and toweled himself off, the soles of his feet felt like they were on fire. He winced the entire time he was patting his bandages dry, cursing softly as he saw bright red appear on them.

Great, just great. Now he was gonna have to hobble back to bed and somehow change the dressings on his feet before Franz or Julius came home. Bring scolded was not on Robert’s to-do list. Much as he was quickly coming to love them, he knew they were good at lectures. At least Franz was. He recalled getting an earful after breaking into the VIP hut to steal some important papers. Getting a glimpse of Franz’s fine ass and lean body had been worth it, though. Robert didn’t know if Julius had the same talent and he didn’t care to find out. There was something feral about the man. Julius reminded him of a lion in the zoo…tame to a point, but could kill you at any time with no remorse. Yeah, he didn’t want to go there.

The colonel rinsed the blood that’d gotten on the white towel out of it and hung it up. Aside from not wanting to leave any evidence behind, he didn’t want the stain to set. That would ruin the towel and he didn’t have any money to replace it. He limped out of the bathroom stark naked, but quickly froze in place. Julius was sitting on the bed and he did not look amused. Then again, he rarely did.

“Damn, I am so busted,” Robert muttered under his breath. He gave the man an innocent smile. Unfortunately, the way his voice kept randomly squeaking showed he was anything but innocent. “Julius! I uh, I wasn’t expecting you to be home so soon. How long have you been back for?”

His eyes darted from Julius to the hairbrush on the dresser, then back again. He put his hands behind him to protect his vulnerable bottom, doing his damnedest to casually edge toward the bed so he could sit on it instead. A sharp pain in his foot knocked Robert off balance. He fell, hitting the ground palms first. The landing left him lying on his stomach in all his glory. He propped himself on his elbows and brought his feet up behind him – momentarily forgetting about the bloody bandages on them – and tried to look like he’d fallen on purpose.

“So…I had a nice trip. See you next fall,” he offered lamely.

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

Julius just bent down to help Robert up. "Don't let me stop you. Personally, I think you're fine with light exercise, but you shouldn't be doing that alone, especially when your feet are as ravaged as they are. How badly did you damage the bandages?"

He sat Robert on the bed, careful not to get too much into the man's personal space. Robert was just like any other human being - he didn't like being forced into something he didn't want. Julius carefully ignored the bruises and whip marks, instead focusing on the feet. Someone had beaten Robert's feet with a leather strap. It was a way of hobbling a man without breaking things for good, but it didn't mean the wounds didn't hurt. Robert was likely going to limp for life over this. Julius tossed the man his pants and ducked into the bathroom to find the salve and his bandages. Robert had made a mess of things in there - the towel that was strewn on the floor and the slight red tinge to the water both attested to that - but nothing was too badly damaged.

Julius still wasn't used to having servants. He hummed quietly as he put the towel up to dry and mopped up the water. Then he grabbed the salve and the bandages, bringing those back to Hogan. Julius could have always called for Martha to do this for him, but it just would not feel right. He could clean wounds with the best of them - he had learned how in Russia. Franz slipped into the room after a few minutes and watched from the doorway. He had worried about Julius and Robert - the two hadn't always liked each other - but at least they were getting along now. Franz coughed to let the others know he was there and sat down on the bed. He didn't want to startle Robert. The man had been through enough already.

"Well then," Franz dryly said. "That looks like it hurt."

[Col. R. Hogan]

“No idea,” Robert answered. “All I know is that they hurt like a son of bitch. My feet did feel like they were on fire, though. I hope they’re not infected.” He sighed. “Regarding me doing it alone, I know it was dumb, Julius. And I apologize. It’s just…I’m not used to having servants around, you know? I might have come from a rich family, but we didn’t have servants. I'm used to doing things for myself.”

He caught the pants – grateful he didn’t appear to be in trouble – but didn’t put them on. The amount of moving around he’d done had made him hot. Besides, he wanted to cuddle, and he preferred skin-to-skin contact. He looked up at Franz when he entered the room. The obvious statement sent a flash of something through him, a feeling he hadn’t felt since before the event he always referred to as ‘his trial’.

“Gee, do you think? I thought it felt good,” the colonel retorted. The moment the words left his mouth, he clapped his hands over it, his eyes widening in fear. He curled into the smallest ball he possibly could and looked at the ground. “I-I’m sorry, Franz. I didn’t mean any disrespect! Please don’t beat me…”

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

"I'm not going to hit you," Franz murmured. He sat beside the man and petted his hair. "But I would like for you to at least put underthings on, darling. I don't want to hold you and touch you in a place you don't like."

This wasn't the time to ask what he had gone through. Franz knew that it had to be bad, which was why Hogan was so skittish. H would wait until Hogan was ready and then let him lead whatever relationship he wanted. IF he wanted one. With what had been done to him, Franz would not be surprised if he didn't want anything to do with a German. He cleared his throat, making sure that Robert knew what he was doing, and he lay down beside the man after he stripped off his shirt. Robert liked to cuddle close to them, sans clothes.

"I'll finish with the feet, then," Julius said. He knelt at the other man's feet and continued his work.

[Col. R. Hogan]

Robert gave him a wary look. He slowly unfolded his lean frame, watching Franz like a hawk as the man reached for him. It was hard for him to trust anyone after what he’d been through. Still, neither of the brothers had been anything but kind to him so far. The hand holding his underwear shook. Hesitating to obey orders would more than likely earn him a whipping – or at least a harsh backhand – but he had questions he needed answers to. Everything was too screwed up in the colonel’s mind for him to discern truth from lie.

“Since Julius killed Major Hochstetter, does that make him my new owner now? Or am I both of your guys’ property?” he asked. He buried his face into Franz’s chest, hoping he might be able to avoid a blow to his face if the blond German changed his mind. He’d been struck too many times out of nowhere and was skittish. “My apologies if my questions were out of line,” Robert hastily added in a small voice. “I only asked so I know who I’m expected to service first. Acknowledging hierarchy was an important focus in my training, and...well, never mind. You probably don’t want to hear what happened to me. Sorry to have bothered you by bringing it up.”

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

Franz started and nearly shoved the man out of his arms. "Your... what? What the hell are you talking about? I'm not going to touch you unless you want it, Robert. We're adults. We can take care of any needs we might have ourselves. You're not property, either. You belong to yourself and no one else."

He had no idea what had been done to this man, but his mind spiraled into several directions at once. None of them were good. Franz already disliked Hochstetter. The man had been nothing but a coward hiding behind his rank and his pistol. And now that Hogan was talking about these things... It made Franz wonder just how twisted Hochstetter could have been. He looked down at Hogan. The man was so small in his arms, so frail, that it nearly took the older man's breath away. He had thought that they just needed to focus on the physical aspects of his healing - not anything mental.

"Did he hurt you?" Julius asked. He sat the bandages aside, his voice cold and hard. "More than just trying to get you to talk, I mean. Frankly, I've gotten our boys back from Russia in better shape than you are right now."

He didn't mean to be this angry with Hogan, but saying he was pissed was an understatement.

[Col. R. Hogan]

“But Hochstetter said…he told me everyone that had fought for the Allies had been enslaved to the master race after Hi – I mean, our glorious Führer – had won the war by completely wiping America, Britain and Russia off the map with their newly perfected atomic bomb. Said I should never forget that my place was at his feet,” Robert replied. “I didn’t start to believe him until I saw pictures of the USA in ruins. Hochstetter knew that, though, so he was kind enough to let me meet a Frenchman and an Englishman who were enslaved too. They explained how I was very fortunate to have such a loving master, how all the bruises on my body were tokens of how much he cherished me. From what I was told, Americans are the most prized slaves of all. They only go to important men in the Reich.”

He wasn’t too surprised by Franz’s rejection. Two weeks of not being hit and yelled at for most of the day had been nice, but he hadn’t expected it to last for long. He looked down at the floor, not wanting to anger either man any more than they already were. Julius’ hard tone made him curl into a little ball again. Yeah, asking those questions had been a big mistake.

“N-no, sir!” the colonel stammered. “Not too m-much. I’m sorry for asking any q-questions; I promise I won’t do it again! I, I, I…”

His chest heaved as he sucked in a few lungfuls of air. Fear and panic mixed together in his eyes. If they decided to throw him out, his injuries would probably kill him. Not directly, but by crippling his ability to find a new master. Nobody wanted an injured slave to begin with – that went double for slaves like him. Sex slaves were expected to be in good shape, physically flexible, eager and most of all, obedient. The training he’d received kicked in without warning, resulting in him rolling off the bed to kneel with his knees spread wide between the two men. He pressed his torso to the ground and clasped his hands together like he was praying. It was the position Hochstetter had taught him to assume whenever he did something wrong. After so many times of screwing up, the script automatically flowed from his mouth.

“I humbly request your forgiveness for angering both of you. I willingly offer my body to be used however you two see fit until I’ve earned it,” Robert said quietly. He swallowed hard. “If I am to be discarded in favor of a new slave, I ask that you allow me time to heal before casting me out so I can find another master. I will, of course, be happy to service both of you in any way you desire as payment for the inconvenience.”

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

"I'm going to go shoot at something," Julius said. "Maybe take your asshole Warlander stallion and ride until we've both blown off some steam. I don't think I can deal with this without hurting someone."

Franz rolled his eyes and ignored his brother as he stormed out. Then he sat beside the other man. He didn't know what to do with Hogan. His training as a combat medic - limited, to be sure - did not cover this kind of trauma. Franz just sat there, waiting on the man to make his first move. What Hochstetter had said about Germany winning the war was completely untrue. From what Franz understood, it was the opposite. The Allies were winning the war - and they were the ones who had the atomic bomb technology.

"I'm not going to touch you," Franz said. "Not like this. I like my partners of sound mind and willing. I don't want anything to do with a slave. Owning other people... Robert, that's not the way I do it. If I want a partner, I want him willing." He narrowed his eyes. "Actually, you would be a great help if you decided to tell me where these other two slaves are. I would think that you would like them to have such decent quarters, too. I can't imagine that they're being treated well. I'm not getting rid of you, of course."

He just needed to give his brother something to shoot at. Julius was a better shot than he was. Julius would also enjoy the aspect of being a hero. Franz played with one of the tassels on the bedspread as he waited. He could deal with the creepy script. He could deal with Hogan not wanting to put his clothes on. But having Robert treat him like - like he wanted to force his way into a tender, fragile body? Franz didn't know if he wanted to scream or shoot something. Maybe both. Maybe Julius was right about shooting things helping a man's morale.

"Robert, do you like to ride horses?" Franz softly asked. "I have a pony we could ride. Of course, you'll have to wear clothes, but a nice pony never ride never hurt anyone. How does that sound?"

[Col. R. Hogan]

The colonel didn’t move a muscle as Julius stormed out of the room. He was fully expecting to be kicked, but no blows came. The real shock was seeing Franz sit on the floor next to him. His body trembled. He prayed this wasn’t a trick of some kind. Robert didn’t think it was. The man had seemed appalled by the idea of owning a slave, and now Franz wanted to help the two that he’d mentioned. And he seemed to be waiting for something. What that something was, Robert didn’t know.

He swallowed hard and dared to look up at Franz. When he wasn’t backhanded, he gathered enough courage to crawl into his lover’s lap. He nearly purred. Franz was surprisingly warm and his lean body was soft. Gradually, the colonel felt comfortable enough to nuzzle him. The response he got was encouraging and caused him to relax a lot more.

“I don’t know who they were. I only met them once,” he said. “But looking back, something seemed off about those men. Like they were faking their accents or something. And their names were definitely German…wait. Maybe they were imposters who wanted to fool me? No, that couldn’t be. I don’t know any Germans named Kurt Weber or Otto Müller.” He sighed. “God, I’m so confused. Those photos I saw, the war ending…I have no idea if any of that is true or not. Thank you for not getting rid of me, though. I like it here and don’t wanna leave.”

Robert nodded his head. “Yes I like to ride horses, but I don’t think I’m up to it at the moment. I hurt and I’m kinda jumpy. Also, I don’t wanna scare the horse, so…maybe we could go for a ride later on?” he hesitantly suggested. He gently kissed Franz’s cheek. “Right now, I just want to be held by you. You seem like you’ll keep me safe. And I…I wanna tell you what all happened to me, if that’s okay. I heard the bad things that give you nightmares lose their power over you if you talk about them.”

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

"You can tell me," Franz murmured. "And I'll tell you about Russia. I think we have our own horrors that we have to fight."

He would have to look into those names. He didn't recognize either man - Kurt Weber and Otto Muller sounded like they would be names from a local family. Franz knew those families well - neither the Weber family nor the Mullers had a son named Kurt or Otto. Both of the Weber sons had died defending Stalingrad, leaving three daughters, and the Mullers had lost one son - Jakob - taking the Isle of Jersey. The other two served in Berlin. It was always possible that the men could have been from out of town, though Franz didn't know why Hochstetter would go to all that trouble. He really would have to look into this.

"You do need pants on," Franz said. "Darling, I would really appreciate it if you didn't go around stark naked all the time. I think you would feel better with pants on. Humor me, please? Maybe?"

He didn't like how frail and silent this version of Hogan was. Not for the first time, Franz wished he could kill Hochstetter all over again.

[Col. R. Hogan]

“Alright…but I’m only putting them on because you want me to,” Robert softly replied. “If you could inform Julius of everything I’m about to tell you so I don’t piss him off even more, I’d really appreciate it. He seemed awfully angry about me asking a few questions.”

He reluctantly moved from his spot to put on the underwear he’d left on the bed earlier, wincing at the pain in his feet. The wounds still hurt like hell. He laid down on the bed and patted the bed next to him, silently asking the blond German to lay next to him. Comfort was definitely going to be needed at some point. Once they were both situated, he took a deep breath and spoke.

“First of all, I should probably clarify one thing: I’m Papa Bear. Or was, anyhow,” the colonel began. “Everything started when I left Stalag 13 to go on a solo mission. My men wanted to go on it with me, but I told them no. Said they’d be safer at the camp. Well, I have never been so wrong in my entire life. I came back to find dozens of bodies on the ground – including Langenscheidt’s – while more were being added by the major and his execution squad. Klink and Schultz were gunned down in front of me, as were Newkirk, Kinch, and LeBeau. I was gonna call Burkhalter to tell him what was going on since I didn’t think he knew. He’s a jerk, but he and Hochstetter didn’t like each other. I figured if nothing else, he would put a halt to the massacre on principle alone. Except I never got the chance to do it before I was discovered in the tunnels by two of the goons, who threatened to torture my men if I didn’t drop my gun. So I did. After I was handcuffed, they forced me to climb the ladder, cuffed my ankles, forced me outside and shoved me against a wall. I had to watch while everyone in that camp except for me, Carter and all of the Gestapo men were shot. Even the Luftwaffe personnel there weren’t excluded from the bloodbath.”

He cleared his throat. “Hochstetter told me he planned to torture me and make me his sex slave. In turn, I told him to go fuck himself. He then stripped me naked before he…he penetrated my hole. Not with his cock at first; that came a few minutes later. He used his fingers to do something that gave me an erection. And I didn’t want it. I didn’t want my first time bottoming to be with Hochstetter, but it was. As an added ‘bonus’, he forced me to orgasm while he fucked me. I felt so degraded, so betrayed by my own body. And that was only the beginning of what was yet to come. The major threatened to do everything he was doing to me to Carter instead if I didn’t cooperate. But he was just a kid, and I couldn’t let anyone hurt him like that. So I stopped resisting. I hoped if I kept Hochstetter distracted, maybe Carter would manage to escape or something. I was more worried about him than myself. Probably shouldn’t have been, but I’ve spent my entire life putting others first.”

Robert sighed. “Hochstetter spent that first month breaking me with a combination of starvation and severe pain. Whips and straps were used everywhere on my body, including my groin. I kept fighting him as long as I could, but I eventually ran out of the needed energy to keep doing it. The day I gave in was the day he came in with a hacksaw and two thin, red hot rods. He picked up one of the rods and said he was gonna shove it up my ass before putting the other one into the tip of my dick and gelding me. Then he had his goons spread my cheeks, and I finally cracked. I remember begging and promising not to fight him anymore as I felt heat getting closer to my hole…God, I can’t even describe the terror I felt. I actually fainted for the first time in my life. When I came to, I was still on the table. Hochstetter told me he would give me one more chance to obey, but if I ever resisted him again, I would get what he’d promised to do after he’d entered the room. That’s when he said I was to always call him Master and gave me my first task: beg him and his two goons to use my body as they saw fit. So I did. The entire time they were violating me, one of the men always kept a rod near my dick, ready to shove it in at a moment’s notice. It didn’t help that I got a hand job to completion every time a different man took over the task of holding the rod.”

He let out a shuddery breath. “The next month was what the major called obedience training. He didn’t starve me anymore, but instead relied on pain and intense pleasure to mold me into his obedient, submissive sex toy. Hochstetter forced my mind to lump the two together. He made me crave being dominated so much during that time that I almost never get off with anything normal these days. By the time the third month rolled around, I’d been taught a script I had to use if I screwed up and a bunch of other stuff. He said I had the makings of a slave good enough to be owned by the Führer himself if I kept up my training. And I was so far gone that I took it as a challenge. I literally pushed myself to endure more and more so I could earn that honor. I wanted to be the best slave I could possibly be for him.”

He shook his head. “I was never allowed to wear clothing either, which is why I prefer to be naked all the time. Clothes make me feel very uncomfortable now,” Robert added. “Whenever I disobeyed my master, he slapped me across the face and fucked me in the ass with large items. Said no slave of his was going to mouth off to him. Sometimes, Hochstetter would purposefully humiliate me in front of others if my actions embarrassed him. And then….and I eventually ended up being the person Carter had to worry about. I ordered his death after he told me to my face how I was a filthy traitor. I’m still not sure how I could forget my own friend unless I was brainwashed, but that doesn’t matter. His blood is still on my hands. The worst part is, he was right. I should have searched for a way we could either escape or kill ourselves instead of trying to play hero. Guess that makes me a traitor and a coward.”

Tears streamed down the colonel’s face. “Hochstetter said he could only protect me so long under the new order. Added that if I didn’t want to be taken from him and given to someone who would abuse me, I could prove I was loyal to the Reich by swearing allegiance to our Führer. Which I did. He recorded me saying it, along with my full name, rank, branch of service and serial number. I didn’t want to because I hated that man. But I had no choice if I wanted to stay with the one person who loved me, who said I was his most cherished possession. That was why he had that collar with the SS runes made for me – he wanted to prove he wasn’t lying to me about those things.” Robert wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I don’t know what he did with the record. With my luck, he probably managed to get it through to the Allied Headquarters in London or something.”

Robert paused long enough to blow his nose, then continued on. “Hochstetter wasn’t all bad, though. He ensured I knew how to suck cock and to appreciate any marks he left on my body. Gave me the privilege of servicing everyone in the Hammelburg Gestapo Headquarters in my free time too – which I did. Repeatedly. I must have pleasured all 120 of those men at least 10 times each, probably more. I kind of lost track. All I knew was that seeing me in pain seemed to make Hochstetter happy, and I liked making him happy ‘cause I was treated well. I even earned rewards if I could cause a certain amount of orgasms in a single day. Sometimes it was extra food, other times it was a hand job. One time I actually earned the option to choose how I wanted to service Hochstetter in the evening instead of being given orders.”

Robert’s voice was choking up again while he talked. “For the three months I was his property, I made it a point to have as many people use my holes as possible, after which they’d write certain things on the sheet of paper I always carried with me. Initials, time, if I begged or not, services provided, and a 0 – 5 star rating were what Hochstetter required me to get from everyone. Additional comments were optional, but always welcomed. He used the data to monitor what I did more of so he could determine what I needed to improve on. There were days I would be on all fours for several hours with no break, consistently having different cocks shoved in my mouth and in my ass. Most of the men were rough, but they ensured I remained a good slave for my master. All of them either called me a Nazi-Hure or a dreckige schwanzschlampe. According to the major, it was high praise to be called such sweet pet names. He himself always said guter Sklave whenever I did something he liked.”

The colonel swallowed hard a few times. “The major wanted me to always remember who my betters were, so I always had to thank anyone who used my body. Always had to swallow their seed too. Spitting was seen as a personal insult to the man in question, which led to me being whipped and humiliated in front of everyone who worked there. Sometimes that happened even if I didn’t do anything wrong. The one time I dared to ask Hochstetter why, he informed me he was paying me back for every bit of ridicule he’d gotten whenever he’d tried to tell his superiors I was Papa Bear. My answer earned me a strapping on my back and the soles of my feet the entire time I was sucking him off. Needless to say, I learned not to ask questions after that,” he said. “Another thing that was deemed acceptable was for anyone, even the lowest private, to come into Hochstetter’s office and request permission to have me service them. They never asked me, of course – I was just a slave. It didn’t matter if I was sore, sick, injured or anything else. If I didn’t comply, I had my dick smacked with a switch for a minimum of a dozen times. Getting an erection during that time earned me a further punishment; the same treatment directly on my asshole. Unfortunately, that happened at least 4 times because of how I’d been trained. It wasn’t something I willingly did. The privates always treated me the worst, probably because they loved being able to boss around someone who was a full colonel.”

Robert closed his eyes in shame. “I miss making sweet, tender love. That’s something I used to really enjoy. It’s also why I like to cuddle so much; having hands on my body comforts me and makes me remember happier times. I prefer to have you guys touch me whenever or wherever you want versus asking my permission too. It’s much easier on me. Plus, it makes me feel special to know I’m desired. After my trial, I don’t know if I’ll even be able to initiate things anymore. I’d still sleep with you, Julius – or both of you at the same time – if you guys wanted to, though. I think both of you are very attractive and would never object to that idea in the slightest. Maybe making some good memories would help replace the bad ones. But I understand if neither of you want to touch me. You and Julius are nobility, while I…I’m just a broken pilot. Or was, anyhow. Pretty sure my career is completely done for by this point. Anyhow, it’s all my fault everyone died that day. I should have killed Hochstetter when I had the chance. But I kept him around because I needed someone I could play for my second job. I made the call, so I deserved everything I just told you about. And now I’m nothing but a worthless whore, one whose only value is to offer my body for the enjoyment of others. That’s the only thing I can do now that the Führer rules the world. There’s no Allies left, no reason to fight for anything anymore.”

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

"First off, the Soviets are about three months out from Berlin," Franz said. He shook his head and risked running his hand on Robert's clothed leg. "And second... My god. We should have tortured that man before we killed him. None... none of what happened to you was your fault, I promise. You were abused. He used you to kill Carter and I'll bet Carter was either being tortured or already dead. If you didn't recognize him... Robert, you can do amazing things with makeup and an old uniform. I don't think that you killed him. Hochstetter probably did the deed as soon as you were away from him. He was... efficient like that."

Franz sighed softly and held him. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Robert more than he needed to be. Franz knew next to nothing about trauma of this kind. Every single word that Robert had said was disturbing. He had been tortured in ways that no one should ever be. His body had been violated, as had his mind. What was worse was that Robert had been forced to like it, to even participate in his own degradation. Franz shook his head again. He didn't know what, if anything, he could do to help.

"You're safe here," Franz finally said. "And free to stay here for as long as you want. I promise."

Then he kissed Robert's cheek, his gesture nothing but tenderness.

[Col. R. Hogan]

Robert gaped at him. Could it be true? Was there still hope for the Allies to win? It was hard to believe after so long of believing all was lost. But if the Soviets were three months from Berlin…Suddenly, Julius’ words about the Germans being in Russia made sense. Robert didn’t know what to do. He felt happy, excited, sad and disgusted all at the same time. His head was a swirl of emotions. Hearing that he hadn’t killed Carter was a relief. Franz was probably correct that someone had been impersonating his friend. But learning he’d degraded himself for nothing made him sick, and now Robert also wished the brothers had tortured Hochstetter. The death he’d gotten had been too quick for him.

“The war isn’t over,” he whispered. A huge smile came to his face and he cheered, then kissed Franz square on the mouth. “The war isn’t over! YES! There’s still a chance to stop that crazy fruitcake! I’m gonna – wait.”

The colonel’s smile faded. “I can’t do a damn thing if my brass thinks I’m a traitor. I’ll need to contact them at some point. But not before the war ends, ‘cause then they’ll summon me back. And frankly, I don’t wanna leave. I like it here. Plus, I can say you two rescued me and helped me recover. That should help paint you and Julius in a favorable light, given your branch of service and all.”

God, it felt good to scheme and plot again. That wasn’t something he hadn’t done in three months. He didn’t know what he was gonna do about his new liking for rough sex, though. Maybe he could ask Julius to help him fulfill that need. Within reason, of course. That could work. Julius was half-feral anyways; Robert was sure he wouldn’t mind. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at the man next to him.

“Thank you, Franz,” he said gratefully. “You have no idea how glad I am to know I was being lied to, that nothing Hochstetter said was true. That’s gonna go a long way in helping me get my mind back. I haven’t felt this much like myself in months!” Robert gave him another kiss, a familiar determined glint appearing in his eyes. “I still wanna go for that pony ride you offered later, but right now, I’d like it if we made love. Show me what it’s supposed to be like as a bottom so I can see the difference…please.”

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

Franz laughed softly and kissed his cheek. "Julius and I are both part of the Allies. The Espionage Corps, by the way. We already told the brass that you were found and everything they got from you was taken under extreme duress. It's Julius' opinion that you were drugged, too. We both know your personality - you are not the kind of person who would break under torture. He knows the kind of drugs they might have giving you - they did some of that in Russia."

Franz also wasn't in too much of a mood to get down and dirty, especially with a man who had been abused. There was no telling what was in that man's head right now. Franz did not want to find out the hard way, so he just settled for kissing and cuddling. Robert would come out of the drug haze sooner rather than later. Franz didn't know what he was going to do when he did. He liked Robert - there was a good chance that he was so clingy because he was coming down from the drugs. The coming down process was going to be hell for the man, especially when he had been fed drugs for three months.

"Easy," Franz whispered. He kissed Robert deeply and nuzzled him a little more. "You might need to rest yourself. I can use my fingers, though, if you would like that. I don't think I'm in the mood to actually get it up right now."

[Col. R. Hogan]

For the second time that day, Robert found himself staring at the blond German in shock. This day was apparently full of surprises. He never would have guessed Julius was part of the Allies – the man had come off as colder than most of the German officers who’d visited Stalag 13, even the Gestapo ones. Robert supposed that was all part of his cover. At least he hadn’t taken up with people who were actually part of the SS; that would be a serious nail in his coffin. Probably more than being bisexual, come to think of it.

“I have so many questions…but they can wait. Right now, I’ve got higher priorities,” he said. He pressed a kiss to Franz’s throat. “I’d think I’d like it if you used your fingers, though. Never had a chance to enjoy the feeling before. Do you need me to move in any way, or…?”

[Staf. F. von Waffenschmidt]

Franz sighed softly. He didn't know if he could delicately tell Robert that he didn't think this was a good idea. The man had been traumatized. There was no telling what the penetration would do to him. Still, though, Franz decided to give it a shot. He rolled over and searched through his desk drawer. He didn't keep too much in there - just a few odds and ends - and came up with a small alabaster jar. Franz unscrewed the lid and scooped a small amount of the gel on his fingers. After a minute, it warmed up in his hands and became a sweet smelling, shimmering oil.

"Just roll over on your belly," Franz murmured. He waited for Robert to comply. "Tell me the instant you feel any discomfort, please. I don't want to hurt you." Then he pressed his slick finger inside, trying not to wince when he felt the scarring. "You have a spot inside you, love. All men do. But when stimulated, it provides the kind of pleasure that can make a man go mad."

Franz smiled when he found it. He pressed down just a little - just enough to make his lover jerk and moan in pleasure.

[Col. R. Hogan]

“I will,” Robert promised.

He took a deep breath while the oiled finger slid inside him. This wasn’t Hochstetter penetrating him this time, it was Franz. One of his lovers. A man who had been nothing but kind to him, kept him fed, given him shelter – even made sure London knew what had happened to him. He could trust Franz. Hearing about a spot that could provide intense pleasure was a pleasant surprise. Robert had just opened his mouth to ask for more information when the blond German did something magical with his fingers. The motion caused him to jerk, tossing his head back as he let out a loud moan.

“Ohhh. Oh my God, yes. Yessss,” he hissed. He squirmed and enjoyed the sensations flowing through his body. It didn’t even register that he’d spread his legs wider, thereby making it easier for Franz to touch him there. “Holy shit, I…mmm. Do it again, please.”