Our hope is that every homosexual youth in this country can find a home
and someone to love them as they are. Does your mother know you're reading this shit?
Warning: This story is PORNO. I have tried my hand at friction, now I'm trying fiction. This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual activity between men and teen boys. If you are underage, or if this is illegal where you are, then please go away. If you're under 18, Adios come back when it is legal for you to read this smut. A strongly worded suggestion has resulted in this statement. Thus said, this story is copyrighted, ©2005-2012. It is therefore illegal to copy or use any part of this story on any other web site without my written permission.
The first order of business was to get the boys rooms of their own. I asked little Grisha to act as our guide.
He had crawled into every nook and cranny of the old hotel when last we had visited. I knew that he would be able to find his way around even it were dark.
No one deserves to be discriminated against, no matter what their differences from society's norm.
A tidy quote from chapter 137
"titles belong on books, not people" ©Carl Dickson—2007
It contains no truth, partial truth, or half truth. What it does contain is stroking material. If this kind of story turns you off, or offends you, please find something else.
The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and underage children.
If you lied about your age in order to access this story, remember this is our story. Life doesn't always work out like a story.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either
are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitioiusly,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
You may download the CHEROKEE TONT for free at this link. Dowload it, install it, then enjoy seeing tfe TSAIAGI names in this story. This font is included in thfull version Send an e-mail for it .
Our hope is that every homosexual youth in this country can find a SAFE home and someone to love them as they are.
No one deserves to be discriminated against, no matter what their differences from society's norm.
A tidy quote from chapter 137
"titles belong on books, not people" ©Carl Dickson—2007
The sleeping quarters are located on the upper three floors. We started with the two hundred bedroom suites on the third floor. I had assumed correctly, each room was furnished with a queen sized bed with a lamp sitting on a night stand to each side. There were two large desks and a bureau set against opposite walls. A seating area was centered before the large window in each room and was equipped with a small sofa and two easy chairs with side tables and lamps. Two large walk in closets were located, one to each side of the bathroom. Each room was set up to accommodate two boys with ease.
The twenty boys that would remain there permanently had their rooms picked out and had placed their belongings in their rooms the night before. Our visitors from Paris had selected rooms, some in pairs, some with three or four boys sharing a room. We were left with one hundred and four empty rooms on the second floor.
We walked through the fourth floor. All of the rooms were complete, but most of the furnishings were in their boxes to protect them from dust until needed. There was no furniture for the rooms on the fifth floor. The rooms were finished and ready for occupancy and all that they needed were the beds. In the attic storage above the fifth floor we found two hundred long twin bed frames, foundations, and mattresses, still in their sealed boxes, to be used in rooms where the boys preferred not to sleep in the same bed.
I had told Klementi that the boys at the other schools had the super long twins beds and that they tied them together with clamps if they wished to sleep together. I told him that in two cubicles at BAW there were three boys with three beds tied together. He gave me leer at that idea. A little bug on the wall had told me that Klementi shared his bed with two boys every night, and not always the same two boys.
I turned and looked at the fifty new boys. I offered them the rooms on the second floor. I told them that if they wanted to find a room on the fourth level that would be okay with me. All of them wanted to stay as close to the other students as possible. I had more than one of the boys tell me that he wanted to make real friends with people that he could trust.
The oldest boy of eighteen stepped forth. "Please to you sir, I am no baby, but I no want to be alone at night. We none have friends so we hide together to sleep so that the men might leave us alone at night. I sleep with Kirill—lord—he is to get afraid sometime."
"What is your name?"
"I am called Mattvey—gift of God."
"Mattvey you and Kirill may share any of the vacant rooms in the school that you wish.
"All of you may share as you wish. If you want two to share with you, there is no problem. You have been through much and I understand that you will want to sleep close to a friend. It will give you comfort and help you as you get used to being here.
"Everybody find a room for now. After you all get to know each other you may want to share with another student. That is not a problem as long as both of you want to share. For now let's get you settled then go down for lunch." I walked with the fifty boys and watched them open their little bags. They only had a few scanty articles of clothing and a few tiny keepsakes from their prior life.
I looked at a king from a chess set. Semyon—hearkening—looked at me and his eyes clouded. I sat down to talk to him. I learned that he is fourteen. "I played Chess with my uncle. The police came and told him that he was a homosexual and took us both to jail. I had just won his king so I held it in my hand. I have never seen my uncle again." I held him close to me. Borya stepped out of the bathroom and sat down on my other side. I held both boys tightly.
I heard something dragging in the hallway. I stepped out to see John Little and Little John pulling large cardboard boxes off of the rebuilt elevator. I was happy to see the father and son electricians. I gave the two men a big hug and asked them how their work was progressing. They told me that they were working on the wiring for the pool pumps and that there was an auxiliary water well that needed to be wired. I asked them how much time that would take. John told me that they should be through by noon the next day. I asked them if they would like to accompany the students on a bus tour of the city.
I was very happy to see the boxes. I had them left where they were and called for all of the new boys to come to me. I opened the boxes. Mike and Bryan helped me to give each boy two pairs of jeans that would fit him, and four tee shirts with the school crest on it. The clothing that each of the boys had would find its way into a recycling bin or an incinerator before nightfall. I sent all of the boys to the showers and told them to put on a pair of the jeans and a tee shirt.
Energetic Grisha passed me with his arms piled high with towels and wash cloths. He had Adin helping him to supply every bathroom with clean towels, bars of soap, and two toothbrushes. I love that little kid. He isn't so much of a sheesh as I teased him about.
I had ordered extra clothing for the school in the anticipation of gaining new students, I just didn't know that I was going to gain them my first day in Moscow. I asked Mike if the rest of the cargo from our plane had been delivered. He told me that it had, but he figured that I would want the jeans right away. I gave him a hug.
I went downstairs with Bry, Mike, and the Littles. We found Pete calling off the contents of more boxes to Nikolay to be entered into the school's inventory log. I asked them if they had found the boxes of sweaters. Pete pointed to two boxes. It would be close, There were two hundred sweaters in those boxes and I had two hundred and sixty boys with me. I could only hope that some the Parisians had brought their sweaters as I had asked them too.
My sweet boys listen to me. All of the Parisians had brought their sweaters with the BAP crest on it. I had blue sweaters with the gold BAM crest over the left breast passed out to each student of the Moscow school. I watched as several of the new boys from the prison held their sweater close to their body and let the tears flow. I was happy to provide them with something that they seemed to cherish.
A call over the PA system told us that lunch was ready. I walked with boys touching me as we made our way back up the wide staircase to the second floor. I looked over the food line and was surprised to see fried chicken with mashed potatoes and creamy gravy. There was a variety of hot vegetables and the soup and salad bar was loaded with wholesome foods.
I heard compressors running so I checked out the new ice cream machines set at the end of the salad bar. There were two flavors of iced milk in the freezers, chocolate and vanilla. On the left of each freezer was a milkshake mixer. Some of the boys were staring at the machine so I fixed myself a small chocolate shake. The boys quickly made shakes for themselves.
The head French cook called me to the serving line. He lifted the stainless steel covers from the vegetables. He had prepared fresh corn on the cob and he had a large pan of blackeyed peas. "Your monsieur Gigage taught me to cook this southern food for my boys as a treat. This is the first time that I have prepared it. I hope that it is well." I reached for a chicken thigh and took a bite. I assured him that it would be fine, his chicken was perfect and one can hardly harm fresh roasting ears. He had no idea what I meant by roasting ears so I ecplained.
"Oh boy, fried chicken and gravy. I feel like I'm back home now," John said in a loud voice. I lifted the cover from the blackeyed peas and watched him light up. I didn't think that his heart could stand seeing the corn at that time. I watched him as he walked between two boys of about fifteen or sixteen. All three of them seemed comfortable together. I let a few ideas for the nighttime activities roll around in my head.
The head Russian cook apologized to me. He had not baked enough bread for the extra boys so he had gone to the bakery and chosen the freshest bread that he could find. I picked up a slice of heavy black bread and tasted of it. I slathered it with butter and sought out a glass of milk. The cook smiled, he knew that everything was good. One of the French cooks appeared with a tray of thick buttermilk biscuits. The Russian cook looked surprised. I smiled back at him and turned to be with the boys.
After lunch I knew what I had to do. I asked Nikolay if he would be willing to go do some clothes shopping for the new boys. He smiled. I asked Grigoriy to take the buses with the visitors and older students on a site seeing tour. I asked him to give the Parisians a chance to see all of the best sites of Moscow. Grigoriy asked to take the Werwolf. He pointed toward the main entrance at a row of buses lined up and waiting for boys.
I walked to the doors and saw five tour buses with large windows. Grigoriy told me that four of the buses had French speaking tour guides on board and the other bus had a Russian speaking guide. I asked him if we could handle letting all of the boys do a little bit of shopping and then tour the city together. He told me that his thinking was that we should all go as a group to tour the city then as it grew late in the day he knew just the place for all of the boys to do some shopping. He said that the number of boys would not overwhelm the place that he had in mind for us. He said that if I had the Werwolf along I could get between the stores in case of a problem. I liked his way of looking at thngs.
He stepped to a room off of the front entry way and called inside. An FI agent, in uniform, stepped out. I was told that Grigoriy had called for twenty security guards to accompany the boys. There would be four agents to a bus. I wasn't sure about having armed guards on the buses, especially the bus with the new boys fresh from prison that morning.
The security detail would drive their vehicles with four men in each one. One vehicle would be behind each bus with me in the Werwolf, in front. Greg had argued his position well so I agreed.
Messieurs Bassin and Chatelain each took a bus as the faculty representative/chaperone. The four French cooks divided into couples and each couple took the other two buses. Rémi wanted to ride in the Werwolf. He was carrying all of the French boys' passports so I agreed. I had already asked the Little men to ride in the limo with me. Nikolay needed to ride in the limo also, he had the paperwork for the new boys. I saw my chance to get onboard the bus with the new boys. I would have to ask them to translate what the tour guide said though.
I thoroughly enjoyed the bus tour. I was impressed with the onion domed spires of St. Basil's Cathedral. Red Square is a domineering place to, cold and without feeling. The stark white walls of the five story Kremlin with the many buildings that surround it, and the multiple onion domed spires within the compound, stand in contrast to the red brick wall that surrounds it. When the bus stopped before Lubyanka—the former KGB headquaters—I saw many of the boys on the bus shudder. I decided that it was time to find something more interesting for the youngsters.
I used my throat mike and soundbud to call Nikolay. I asked him if there were someplace that the boys could enjoy. I told him that ice cream sounded good. He told me that he knew just the spot. The buses seemed to drive around the block a few times then we headed off in the opposite direction from our original heading. We pulled up to a large building that I could make out as a dairy. In a small building attached to the front of the building was an ice cream store, sixty five flavors to boot.
I led my bus load of boys inside first. Each of them were orderly and stood in line until they were served. Once they had their ice cream in hand they went outside and stood by their bus. The boys from the other buses did the same. The French boys had to speak through their two Russian speaking instructors, but they quickly got their orders and went to stand by their buses. When each boy had his ice cream I called the limo and told the men to get their asses in gear or they would miss out. When they entered the store front I was sucking on a triple scoop cone of cherry, lemon, and chocolate chip ice cream.
With everybody served I pulled out a ten thousand Rouble bill and offered it in payment. The total of the ice cream was just a little over eight thousand roubles, about three hundred dollars, American. I took one thousand roubles in change and told the staff to split the remaining change amongst them. I looked at boys with ice cream drips on their chins and on the front of their shirts. We had not prepared for that contingency. Grigoriy ran back into the ice cream store and returned with paper napkins. He opened the trunk of the Werwolf and pulled out several bottles of drinking water. I am going to have to give that boy a serious raise in pay. Once the boys were presentable again we boarder our buses for the final destination of the day.
We drove up to a stark looking building that was five stories tall. The boys were excited as the wanted off of the bus.I learned that we were at the ОхотнЫй Ряд—Okhotny Ryad—shopping mall in Moscow, near Red Square. The building is not very impressive from the outside, but inside it can rival most American malls with its modern decor and well stocked clothing stores. I let the boys go their own way, but I sent an FI agent with them for security purposes.
Grigoriy stayed with Rémi and the case with the passports in it. That could be a disaster should that case fall into the hands of an identity thief. I called the Moskvin boys to join with us as I stayed with the new boys. I pointed them to many different shops that carried boy's clothing. I had each of them pick out twelve pairs of underwear, twenty four pairs of socks, twelve tee shirts and twenty outer shirts. I made sure that each of them had at least three button up shirts and a good quality white button up shirt.
In the pants department I had them select six pairs of good slacks and then I allowed them to choose as many pairs of shorts that they wanted. Shoes were something that each boy had to be fitted for. They all knew their shoe size until a clerk measured the feet. The boys are growing and an ill fitting shoe can cripple them for life. I had each boy buy a black wingtip dress shoe that would fit him for most of the year. I allowed them to buy boots for hiking, and several pairs of various sport shoes. When they started to go a little wild I reminded them that they had to carry all that they purchased back on the bus. I did a mock shudder as I mentioned the small amount of space each boy had in his seat. They settled fora two pair of sport shoes.
Something about boys everywhere in the world is their uncanny ability to gravitate toward food. Nikolay had told me that the food court at Okhotny Ryad was kid friendly. I found forty boys there within a half an hour after we arrived. I circled the food court and found everything that a boy loves in the way of food. I was familiar with many of the food items, some of the fare was of a local vein, the boys knew what it was and they knew what they liked.
As the boys finished their individual shopping they made their way to the food court. The new boys all gathered on me. I sent Grigoriy and Nikolay out to help me pay for anything the boys ordered. Of course they had to go to ten or fifteen different kiosks so paying for the food was quite a process, but we got it done and we had boys with full bellies, until dinner time.
The store staff worked well with us. They placed each boys' purchases into large flat boxes that they could easily carry. I had the staff write each boy's name on the outside of the box in large letters with a felt tip marker. The shoe boxes were tied together so that each boy had a large box under each arm and the shoe boxes dangling from one hand. I had a surprise for the boys. When we returned to the bus the under storage area was open so that the packages could be placed there, out of the way. I had to laugh, they had thought that they would have to carry their purchases in their lap all of the way back to the school. I love boys, they think funny.
It was after ten when we returned to the school. The two Russian cooks had prepared a stout soup and had the makings for cold sandwiches laid out along with a well stocked salad bar. The boys drank milk and coffee or tea with their late fare. Most of the boys had eaten at the food courts in the mall, but they always seem to find room for more food.
As the boys ate their late meal I stepped up to pass on the bad news to them. "Boys, what I have to say is law. I hate to single anyone out, but the overall health and well being of all of you is the most important part of my life. We have fifty two new boys, including the Moskvin boys, that have joined us today. None of these boys has been checked for sickness and diseases. I would suggest that you not have unprotected sex with any of them until we have the results of their blood work back. Everyone of you boys has been through that when you first came to my schools and it is no different here.
"I want each of you to remain healthy and happy. I have several boxes of condoms here and I would ask any of you that want to get to know one of the new guys to grab a handful and to use them. The results should all be back in about three to four weeks then we will know." I turned to go to my seat when seventeen year old Nikita stood up.
"Dad, can we all sleep on the gym floor like we did last spring?"
His opening greeting struck me in the heart, deep in the heart. "That sounds like a fine idea, Nikka. I would like for you to answer a question for me though. Tell me why you just called me dad. Do you know what that title means in English."
"Yes dad, it means отец, father, or papa. Some kids call their fathers daddy or shorten it by calling them dad. While we were in Paris we learned most all of the boys in your school in Arizona, America call you dad because they love you more than their own fathers. Many of the boys in Nice that know you call you dad, and most of the boys that went to America last Christmas now call you dad.
"Chris, if you will let me I would like to call you dad. My own father sent me away because I love boys, He doesn't love me. You have always shown love to me. Every time that you get near me you touch me on the shoulder or you pat my back, you talk to me, you always remember my name and you always show love on your face and in your eyes. To call you dad is the only way that I know of to tell everyone around me that I love you with all of my heart." All of the boys in the room began to clap then broke out into their anthem to me. The new boys didn't know the words the first time through the song, but when it was repeated a second time they sang their little hearts out as well.
I was overwhelmed, again. I was also overcome with emotions and I was not ashamed to let the boys see the tears running like a river down my face cheeks. I pulled every boy within reach to me and hugged him close. He didn't cease to sing his song in my ear until I kissed him, each and everyone of them; about ten in all. I stood up and made my way through the room and kissed every boy in there, even the fifty two new boys. The tables were pushed aside as all of the boys, two hundred and sixty two of them, moved to me for a giant group hug.
I heard more than one boy in the group hug tell another that his ass hole was not located in the in the middle of his butt. One boy said, "That's it. Push it in." The next thing that I heard were the sounds of rutting boys as more that one young hard on moved another boy to his height of pleasure, right there in the middle of the dinning room floor.
I had expected to see it, and I did. There were twenty boys hooked together in a daisy chain. As the group moved apart other boys joined in by shoving their hard on inside the boy at the end of the line as he himself was impaled in like manner. I announced that it was time to move upstairs to the bedrooms. Someone called out, "How about the gymnasium floor?"
As one body the boys moved to the end of the hall and the large, refitted gymnasium. Wrestling matts were located and spread out to cover the entire floor. Four boys ran upstairs to the linen closets and then returned with their arms overloaded with stacks of clean sheets. They knew as well as I did that the matts would make us even sweatier than we normally are.
I returned to the dining room to retrieve the boxes of condoms. All of the cooks and staff were talking to the Little men. "Gentlemen, this is a good time to satisfy your own lusts and desires. I only ask you to observe the primary rule. If a boy says no to you, leave him alone and move on. There are more than two hundred boys in there that enjoy being with a man sometimes. I am sure that you can find one or two for your pleasure. Please practice safe sex with these boys. I know that you are all clean, but the boys' feelings come first." I was followed back to the gym by the entire group that had lost their clothing rather quickly.
Pete was in a lip lock with Grigoriy and both of them had a handful of stiff meat. Bryan and Grisha were doing the nasty with Bryan's legs wrapped around the little guy's waist so that he could take everything the boy had to give. Rémi was talking with Nikka as he stroked the boy's manhood. To my knowledge Nikka has only been with one man, the brother of Afon that had been in charge of the school when he first arrived there. I watched with interest as Nikka knelt before the old school teacher and swallowed his cock in one easy move.
Messieurs Bassin and Chatelain had each taken on a boy from the original twenty BAM students. That was good. They could satisfy their lusts without compromising themselves with their own students. Little John was balls deep into a French boy while his father was spitted like a hog. He was on his knees taking the very hard pounding of a sixteen year old French student while at the same time he sucked on the long dong of very hung boy that I knew to only be fourteen.
All six of the cooks were getting skewering, or getting skewered by, young boys from the other schools. Nikolay was deep into the ass of one of the new boys from the prison. I felt a hand on mine and another hand on my butt. I looked down to the two Moskvin cousins. I looked into eyes filled with lust. Афанаснй—Afanasiy—immortal—bent forward and took my cock deep into his throat. "Yummy, I want that in both of my ends."
His cousin, Генна дий—Gennadiy—noble—grabbed hold of me and put me into his mouth, "You are right. That is tasty and I am sure that it is going to feel very good inside of me."
The two cute boys led me to an clear spot near the center of the room and lay back with their goods on display. I had to do a taste test before I could decide which boy I wanted to do first. One can clearly see the family resemblance between the two boys. I had to look hard at their hard bodies to find any differences. Deciding that nothing appreciably visable existed I dove in head first to the first boy that I came upon. I swallowed a nice five and a half inch cock and worked his pair of young gonads into my mouth also. I did a chorus of Dixie with the head of his cock resting against my tonsil scars.
I had no idea which boy I had in my mouth, but he was flopping around as if he were enjoying himself. I really made him move when I inserted a few fingers, one at a time, into his rectal channel. His anus was not virgin by any sense of the word. My fingers made their way inside of him much easier than with some of the boys in my family.
Once three fingers were staged for action I began the prostate shuffle with the expected results. I felt his tension growing so I allowed one testicle, then the other, to slip from my mouth and began to work his glans for the full effect. I was richly rewarded for my efforts and swallowed greedily at my creamy prize. For a boy so young I was pleased to find his juick thick and tasty.
Before Afanasiy could recover I had Gennadiy in the same position. Afanasiy moved himself ti a prone position between my legs and swallowed as much oh my cock as he could get to. I hated to take his meat treat away from him, but I had other immediate needs and plans for my cock. When Gennadiy started to shower my throat with the elixir of life I moved away from Afanasiy and got to my knees. As soon as I sensed that I had the last drop from Gennadiy I aimed and shoved all of my cock into his gapping hole.
Gennadiy let out a loud sigh of satisfaction as he began to rattle to his cousin in their mother tongue. I heard Grisha close by as he told Bryan that Gemmadiy had told Afanasiy, "I felt extra good inside of him." He told his cousin that he wanted him to take it next. Afanasiy asked if it would hurt as bad as Foma had hurt him. Gennadiy said that Foma was a pig. All he wanted was to get off, he doesn't care whom he hurts with his big cock. I knew that I needed to have a talk with the two boys before I left town.
Grigoriy told Bryan that he wanted to have me inside of him more than anything else. Bran asked him if he had never been with me, didn't he have a pin. Grigoriy had no idea what Bry was referring to. I had a boy that meant a lot to me to take care of before morning.
Afansasiy was afraid for me to do it to him. I respected his fears and left him alone. I took hold of Grigoriy's hand and pulled him close to me. "We have never been joined and it is my fault. Greg, you are special to me. When I was here in the spring I had made it clear that I would not sleep with any of these boys until all of the paperwork was in and they were officially enrolled as students in BAM. I am afraid that you were included in those rules.
"I would not be with these two cute cousins were it not for the fact that their uncle and guardian has given me his complete assurance that his nephews are known homosexuals and that he will hold me, or this school, blameless in any sort of sexual activity that they participate in.
"For now I think that you need a good fucking and a pin to show everyone that you did it."
Grigoriy high fived with Bran, and Pete appeared from nowhere to get his hand slapped by the happy dispatcher. In the morning I would see what sort of job that he really wanted and grant it to him. In the meantime I had to inspect his body to see that all of his parts were in working order. I found a creamy deposit that Bry had left so I cleaned that up for the young man.
I learned that Grigoriy would be celebrating his nineteenth birthday beginning at midnight. I had to give him a candle. It was ten minutes till the magic hour of twelve o'clock so I continued with my inspection. I wanted to give the teen the best birthday present of his life, at least one that he will always remember. A memory that he can tell to his boyfriend in his old age.
Grisha got a laugh from those around me when he slid next to his older brother and lay on his back while holding his knees to his shoulders. He looked at me with a pleading look on his face and simply asked, "Next?"
The following day, third day in Moscow, I was up to my elbows in work. I told the boys that I had to start to prepare for classes that would start at the end of the following month. I told them that I would be busy in my office as I talked to several men about working at the school. As for the boys themselves I suggested that they spend some time in the pool, or the sauna, or in the new weight room. I got a rousing cheer from the boys.
I had already checked that the highest diving board was securely locked behind a heavy and tall, outward slanting security gate. I also checked that the ladder up to that board was blocked to any access. The pool is deep enough for the ten meter board, but I want the boys thoroughly tested before they attempt any dives from that height. I hoped that I would be able to find the time to dive for them before I had to leave.
I began staff interviews at nine o'clock. I dressed to impress with a three thousand dollar tailor made suit. My office was well appointed with everything that would impress a Russian businessman. The carpet was a super plush in a dark brown, I felt as if I were up to my knees in the softness of the floor covering. The sofa and chair were of contrasting shades of brown, the drapes were of a medium dark egg shell white. My desk is an eight foot mahogany beauty that was handcrafted by a master wood smith. My chair was a high backed executive style with a plush leather upholstery that had been artificially worn to make it appear older than it was.
My first interviewee was an educator by the name of Ilarty Wolkowicz. Ilarty had an impressive resumé that spanned ten years of classroom work, four of those years in a university. His field of study were the languages, I wished that Cullen was at my side for this man. I drilled him on all of the romance languages, as far as I could go. I asked him about his knowledge of oriental languages, he told me that he was fluent in Japanese and four Chinese dialects plus Korean and Vietnamese, I would have to take his word on that. He also spoke four major forms of Arabic and Farsi. His last course taught at the university was to young Arabic translators for the Russian Army. I hired him.
Gugal Shulkovskii, loves the sciences. He is a physicist at heart and loves to shape young minds to the wonders of the unseen world of science. I had him tell me how a nuclear reactor worked, in theory. He smiled and laid out a simple block diagram, he told me that if he had a little enriched plutonium he could make me a working reactor to supply the electricity for the school. I told him that the Muscovites would frown on a nuclear reactor in the center of their town. I said that I would have to be sure that he never got his hands on the material needed to build such a controversial item at my school. He smiled at me, I hired him.
Jaska Mezentsova is a biologist. He likes all of the sciences, but he loves to dig around in the dirt and disect bugs and small animals. I asked him to explain the human reproductive system to a very young teenage boy without making him laugh. I have never heard a presentation that was more through, yet so clinically correct. I don't know about Russian boys, but I believe that Jaska would have the devout attention of any American pre-teen or young teen.
I drilled him on photosynthesis and other plant biology subsidies. I had him explain auto-reproduction as if to a twelve year old. I had him explain the reproduction cycle of an oyster. I had him give me the gestation period of an elephant. He asked me why I didn't teach. I grinned at him and told him it was because I didn't know the answers, that is why I was asking hm. He saw through that and we enjoyed a good belly laugh. He had the rotund belly for it.
I asked Jaska of his knowledge of Marine Biology. He told me that his lifetime dream was to be able to swim amongst the shallows of a coral reef and see, first hand, all the beauty that lay there. I had to file that away, but I had an idea working in my head.
I was anxious to interview Leonid Bagge. He listed his love of history and of soccer as his strengths. I thought that I would have a little fun with him as I started off with questions on world history. "Well, Sir Dickson, there are two answers to that question. One is the authorized version of the United Socialist Soviet Republic, the other is what the world's history books teach us. With the communist party no longer in power I prefer the history books." We got along fine.
I asked him if he would be willing to work with the boys to build their young bodies. He told me that he is a champion swimmer and diver. He loves soccer and is familiar with the American sport of Baseball. I asked him if he could teach a non-swimmer to swim. I also wanted to know if he could instruct the boys on diving safety. I asked him if he had knowledge of scuba gear and could he teach all of the boys to use that type of gear safely. I had a history and a gym teacher all in one.
I wanted to save Klementi's choice for headmaster until the last interview. I had two men that I felt would fill that job quite well, but I had to see what the last teacher had to offer. I called Kir Erzin in to my office. The man is quiet and slightly with drawn. That would have to be corrected or the boys would walk all over him and I told him so. He is a tall man with a solid build that suggests a physical lifestyle. I offered him the position that he had applied for, that of janitor. I would have to have the two Little men go through the entire hotel with the man to show him where everything is located and how the American equipment works.
Filat Reikhman was an impessive man. He had a very strong physical presence as well as an impressive resumé. He had been the headmaster of an all boy's school in Greece when the school's finances dried up two years earlier. He had been able to support himself and his family with the money that he had set aside for his retirement. I asked him when he planned to retire. He told me that not until he could no longer teach. I asked him if he had ever taught girls. He told me no. He said that he could not reach them. I asked him why. He blushed, I knew.
I asked him if he had ever had sex with one of his students. He told me that he was often tempted, but he had to maintain his authoritative presence. He told me that were other students to learn about a sexual encounter with another student then he would no longer be able to maintain control. I told him that I completely agreed.
I read over his resumé and asked him if he enjoyed being in the classroom. He told me that the day that was no longer possible then he would retire into the deepest parts of Siberia without a coat. I told him that I hoped that that day never came. I got down and dirty as we covered every aspect of Calculus, Quantum Physics, and what Eienstein was really trying to say. I liked the man. I had to go over his administrative skills, he gave a favorable accounting. I had four instructors and a headmaster/ math instructor before noon.
I told each of the men that they would be teaching high school boys, not college. I want the boys to learn as far as their young minds will take them—a teacher is only a guide, the student does the learning. We can give a boy a road map, but he has to learn how to use it to get anywhere.
The rest of that day was a free day, for me and the boys. I decided to go for a swim. I asked Little John to show Kir how to gain access to the high diving board, without the students looking on. I retired to my room and donned a very tight Speedo and made sure that all of my goods were secure within the garment. I hate smashed balls, especially mine. I walked out to the pool area and all of the boys whistled and cheered. Funny, they had all seen me in the all together the night before when I awarded three youngsters with Golden Pole Pins.
I gave the boys an impressive diving of twelve difficult dives. I was happy to see Kir climb the ladder and do a few great dives himself, nothing of a competitive nature, just straight diving from a thirty three foot high board. Next Leonid showed the boys his moves. He would be a great one to compete against. I felt that many of my diving technics were better than his, but that would be a decision for the judges of a contest to decide.
A few of the boys wanted to try to dive from the board. Leonid told them that he was their new swimming and diving coach and that he would have each boy dive from the lower boards and those that showed that they knew what they were doing would be allowed to dive from the high board. He asked the boys to bear with him because he had not moved himself into his quarters at the school, but that come Monday he would be ready for them. The Parisians were the ones upset because they would be at home on Monday.
The day still had a few hours left in it before dinner time. The boys wanted to learn of the neighborhood. They wanted to see what was around the school3 I asked them to stay in groups of five or six and to please stay together. I was happy to see that the Russian students, new and old, asked to accompany the Parisians so that they would not get lost. My throat tightened as all seventy two boys joined into each group. There were forty seven groups of four BAP students with one or two BAM boys acting as guides. None of the usual pairing of the BAM students took place. One old and one knew student got together to serve as guides.
"Boys, I have a big favor to ask of you. Our newest students do not have a bank account set up for them yet. I would like to ask you to pay for their purchases today, but I want all of the receipts so that I can reimburse you for their spending.
"I would like to ask each of our new students to line up here so that Mr. Alexeyev can take your picture for your bank card." Their was animated chatter as the new students cued up for their picture. Nikolay choose a corner near the front door that had a miniature palm plant to one side and a full leafed rubber tree plant to the other. The cream color of the walls made a very interesting back drop. The pictures were of a professional quality that would suit many of my needs, such as pictures for you to see in the full version of this story.
I left the newly hired staff in the very capable hands of the two Little men. They know their way around the school and they have been near me for several years so they know what I expect of my faculty. I approached the head cook of BAM and told him that he could hire two more cooks on a full time basis. With fifty two new boys he will need help getting the meals prepared.
When I left the new staff was having coffee with the cooks, a good place to start. Boys live from meal to meal with many snacks in between. As long as they stay active and not put on any extra weight I will leave it alone.
I grabbed Nikolay and his pictures along with the paperwork for the new boys and climbed into the back seat of the Werwolf. Grigoriy drove us to the bank. I found my personal banker sitting at his desk. I told him what I needed to do to provide for the new students at the school. Everything was easy to set up. I placed 140000 Roubles—about five thousand dollars—into accounts for each boy. I had cards with their picture ID and account number printed on them. The only thing left was to have the boys choose and enter their PIN so that they could get to their money.
One hour later we entered the car to return to BAM. Nikolay and Grigoriy had something that they were anxious to ask me. Grigoriy secured Nikolay's case with the paperwork and bank cards into a hidden safe inside of the car. He retrieved a change of clothes from the trunk of the car then got into the back seat with us to change. The quarters were tight so I had no problem untying and removing the hunk's boots. It gave me a chance to stroke his lower legs and feet. Of course he came to life, but we had no time for other activities. All the time Nikolay was telling me a story that I have heard, and seen, so many times, but nevertheless I was interested.
Grigoriy drove the car to an area that I have heard a lot of about, Maryina Roshcha—Mary's Grove. It is widely known as the place to go for male escorts, particularly the very young sort. The area looked like any other fag drag in any other city that I have ever been in. Young men and boys that looked to be no older than seven or eight stood along the street waiting for a car to stop so that they could make their offer.
I was surprised to see this in Russia. The country has always been known as a police state and any sort of criminal activity is swiftly dealt with. I had heard that a major gutting of the area had cleared up most of the illegal trafficking, but there were at minimum, twenty boys flaunting themselves in a manner so shameless that hardened female prostitutes would be embarrassed.
Grigoriy told me that the homosexuals in the area have a sophisticated system to alert the street walkers and the bars of police presence. He nodded toward a few rooftops where I was able to casually spy out sentries with high powered binoculars watching our every move. He told us that there were paid informants within the police department that notified the gay crowd of any planned police activity.
Nikolay confirmed everything that Grigoriy said. He told me that many of the informants worked for the services of the younger boys. He got solemn when he told me that snuff sex was a common practice between the boys and the police. He looked out the window as he said that the police could be brutal. The smaller boys had no idea what they had gotten themselves into.
I asked my two friends what was being done to educate these boys. They told me that there was nothing available for them. The state looks upon them as a sub-species. The school system won't allow them near their normal students. Most of the boys have been chased from their homes and are living on the street. Grigoriy made a fourth pass along the two block stretch of road. I asked if I could help.
Nikolay took my hand and led me from the car. Grigoriy parked in the midst of the thickest group of boys. I was surrounded by some thirty boys. They looked hungry and they needed clean clothes and a bath. Nikolay told me to say nothing but to stay at his side. He placed an arm about Grigoriy and gave him a hot kiss for the street boys to see. A boy opened a door to a bar that was rocking with the popular music of the times. I watched as a man that appeared to be the proprietor ran four boys from a table. He mopped down the table with a rag that he had over his forearm and bade us sit down.
I could see a problem occurring very quickly. A half full bottle of vodka was set on the table and three filled glasses were set before the three of us. I asked Nikolay to order me a good Russian beer. Beer in Russia is stout and should be called an ale, at least. It is high in alcohol and the taste is most unusual to a dumb yank that drinks beer made of grains and hops. I learned that Russian beer is served at room temperature, as it is in Germany and parts of France. I like mine ice cold.
I sipped at the beer and toyed around with the glass of vodka. One thing that I didn't want to do was to become inebriated, especially in a foreign city. I had many sheims flirt with me and offer to buy me another drink. I looked about the room, there were ten cross dressing boys making moves on men of all ages. The boys were trying to find someone to spend a little time with for a few Roubles.
I finally had all I could take, I made a bold move. I stood up and loudly announced, "If you are under eighteen years of age and you need a home, with a warm bed and plenty of food then go outside where we will talk." I stepped out on the sidewalk and called out the same message to the boys out there. Nikolay was trying to force me into the Werwolf. Grigoriy was on alert as he kept his eyes moving for any threat.
I saw a crying boy sitting in a recess between two buildings. I walked over to him and knelt down. I lifted his chin so that we could look each other in the face of a boy of about ten years of age. "May I ask what is wrong."
He pointed to a body of a boy stuffed under debris a few feet away from him. "He is my boyfriend. Now I have nowhere to live and no food to eat." I had to call the police, but I wanted to talk to the boys that were waiting on the sidewalk too.
I led the sad boy out to the side walk. I placed my arm around him and made the boldest statement of my life. "If you are interested in removing your makeup and putting on boy's clothing I have a proposition for you. If you want to get off of the street and away from this sort of thing," I nodded to the narrow gap, "then I have a proposition for you.
"I will give you a warm, dry home with a soft bed. You will be able to take a shower anytime that you wish and there are bathroom facilities for you to use. You will receive new clothing and shoes. You will have three regular meals each day with an afternoon snack and a nighttime snack. You will have all of the food that you want.
"You will go to church services on weekends. You will have to attend school classes, everyday. You will have to keep yourself and your room clean at all times. You will have to maintain good grades. There will be time each day for play. There is a fully equipped gymnasium, a large swimming pool, with a high diving board, and a two hundred foot water slide.
"All of this is available to you right now." I stood still and watched the boys. It started with one. He removed the feminine shirt that he had tied in a large knot at his solar plexis, revealing his flat tummy. He used the shirt to wipe the make up from his face and he removed a blonde wig. I saw a very handsome boy of about fifteen emerge from his former self.
Most of the cross dressers began to do the same. The boys that had been on the street began to clean themselves up. I walked over to the two boys that still wore their wigs and makeup. The apparent older of the two looked at me with tears in his eyes. I wiped one away as it started to roll down his cheek. "I'm nineteen, sir. I haven't been in school since I was twelve and I want to learn." I looked at his boyfriend. His body was shuddering with his sadness. "He is almost eighteen, in two more weeks. We're together and he doesn't want to leave me."
"You may go with the rest of these boys, if you want to follow the rules. I would like to ask you about the boy in the gap over there."
"Alton killed him because he wouldn't go with the fat pig in that old car over there." I learned that Alton was a pimp that lived off of the earnings of all the boys to whom I was talking. The fat pig that the boy referred to had a gun in his hand and he was walking toward me. I looked around for the calvary. I am always armed, I have more protection than diplomatic immunity, but still I didn't want to kill anyone in a foreign country then have to spend hours in a police station explaining myself.
I spotted my friend, Petrovich Jaquenov, of the ФСБ—FSB. I breathed a bit easier. I knew that his partner, Oleg Klusov, would not be very far away. I had met the two secret police agents at the home of Athos in Forét des six-fours—Drill of six furnaces and then again in St. Petersburg when I visited there to sit up BAR.
Neither man made a move. I knew that they could see what was about to happen, yet they stood their ground. I thought that I could detect a smile on Petrovich's face, even though he was more than a half a block away. I was about to be tested. It might be a good test in front of the boys. It would forever establish me as one not to mess with.
The fat man came directly at me while Alton swung wide to attack me from the side. When he was about fifteen feet away a very big knife appeared in his hand. The fat man had the gun up and was about to level it at my head. I waited until Alton was less than five feet from me. He made his move, but I was quicker than he expected.
I did my favorite leap from the ground and swung my body around backwards. I kicked Alton's arm so hard that the knife flew from his broken wrist. At the same time I had turned upside down so that I faced fat man. I pulled my little Colt .357 from my ankle holster and sent a bullet into the fat man's hand, leaving parts of his gun butt embedded in it. He would never use that hand again, and I believe the same to be true of Alton.
The eyes in the back of my head, as the boys call it, caught a quick movement. I dropped to the ground and took the three point stance that I had seen Spike use many times. Two thugs had run up from behind me. By dropping and spinning I had caught them off their guard and laid both men flat on their faces, a little broken up for their efforts.
A bullet whizzed past my ear then the sharp report followed. The report told me where the shooter was. Roddy tells me that my reflexes are more like a cat than a wolf. A wolf stakes a stand and circles its pray. A cat strikes, quickly. My strike placed a bullet into the nose of a young shooter. The boy was no more than sixteen. I learned that he was Alton's boy.
The FSB and the city police moved in to clean up my dirty work. Petrovich placed his hand on my shoulder, "I am now fifty thousand roubles richer my friend. Oleg said that you would at very least have many knife marks on you, but he thought that a bullet would put you as a visitor to our hospital for many weeks. I said that you can not be harmed because you are charmed by all that is Holy." I looked at Oleg, he held out his hand for me to shake. We smiled at one another.
Grigoriy had reported to the local police our itinerary for the evening. As a visiting dignitary the FSB was notified so that they could keep an eye on me. I had been under surveillance from the time that I left the school to go to the bank. Oleg looked at the boys then asked me if I meant what I had told them. I assured him that I did. I walked over to the boys and greeted them with hugs and handshakes. Their talk was animated and their praise made me blush.
I sat down on the sidewalk amidst a group of very young boys. Nikolay and Grigoriy sat down with me to act as interpreters. The boys that I was sitting with are much younger than any boy in any of my other schools. I have a few very young boys living in my house where I can watch out for them, but these boys caused me no end of concern. They were much to young to live at BAM, but they had no other place to go. I had a conundrum on my hands.
The bus that I had purchased during my trip in the spring pulled up to the curb. Kir was at the wheel. The boys looked as if they were about to run. A police officer that the boys knew from his beat in the area called to the boys to stand their ground. He told them that the bus was for those boys that still wanted to go to my school. He made it clear that nobody was going to jail except the bad guys.
He pointed to the pile of broken bodies on the sidewalk. In my wake I had left one dead, one with a serious concussion, two with useless hands and one badly broken nose. The policeman told the boys that they would have stories to tell their grandchildren. Then he laughed as he flipped his wrist at two of the older boys.
I got aboard the bus with the eight younger boys. I made it clear to the older boys on the bus that I had a little more business to take care of then I would meet them at the school. I pulled a boy of all of seven years old to me and placed my arm about him, "This is my newest little son. I want you to watch after all of these little ones and keep them safe. I will remove your balls and let everyone watch you eat them if any harm comes to these small ones." I knelt down and kissed each of the little boys and patted their butts as they scampered up the isle to find a seat on the bus.
I looked at Grigoriy and told him that it was still early and I wanted that Russian steak that he had promised me. He looked at the bus. I called Pete and told him what to expect and then looked at Grigoriy. He laughed and took me across the street to a fairly clean restaurant and led me inside. The interior belied the exterior. The place was nice. I was reminded of a mom and pop restaurant in just about any part of America. The tables were set with a burning candle in the center of the cloth covered table. There were four wooden chairs set to each table with space to pull two or more tables together for a larger party.
A boy in a white shirt and red apron seated us. He held my chair for me and when he pushed it in he quietly asked me, "Is it true what said you to those boys out there."
"It is true. I own a new school here in Moscow and each of those boys is going to go there to learn. He will have his own room, food, and clothes to wear."
"I sleep in the alley behind this place where I move to the vent to keep warm to myself. I like such a chance to go, but you would not want me."
I got him in front of me and looked him in the eye, "Why wouldn't I want you?"
He looked around to be sure that nobody could hear him, "I am like them, but different. I like boys, they do men for money which they get to eat."
"I like boys too. My school is for boys that like boys. You might be very happy there."
"My friend, he can go to the school himself?"
"Where is your friend?"
"He hides all day while I work and slip to him food. He is in the back, near the garbage." I asked him to bring him to me as a large woman approached with menus in hand.
"Don't botter man, Mishka. Be 'bout your work." I looked at the boy, his chin was quivering.
"Mishka? Come here little man. What is the best thing on the menu here." He puffed himself up and rattled something in Russian. Nikolay translated for me. Basically it sounded like a large cut prime rib, extra rare with fresh horseradish sauce that would tear the heart out of an elephant. Served with button mushrooms, a large baked potato with everything to go with it, and a large bowl of vegetable soup.
I asked him if he had ever eaten it himself. He shook his head no as he told me that it cost too much for him. I asked him if his friend had ever eaten it. He looked at the large woman and said no, but nodded his head. I knew that he had slipped leftover to his friend, but was unable to eat any for himself.
"Go get your friend and bring him to this table. Both of you are going to eat this dinner with me, then I am going to take you to my school." The boy was emotion struck. He rushed to me and gave me a hug. I patted his butt and sent him to get his friend. I ordered five of the prime rib dinners for us and sent the matron away.
I heard a commotion in the back so I went to investigate. I had been correct. The woman would not let the friend inside. She was ordering Mishka to return to his work or he would not have a job. I made my presence behind her known. She spun about and blushed. I told her that both boys would dine with me or I would take them, and my business somewhere else. She stepped aside for the street urchin to enter. I removed Mishka's apron and handed it to her. "He will no longer need this, because he no longer works for you." I held both boys' hands as we went back to my table.
"I swear boss, I have never seen anyone with brass balls like you have. Nobody gets in your way, do they?" Nikolay stated.
"A few have. They won't do it again." I smiled at him.
I turned to the boys. They appeared to be no more than fourteen years of age. "Mishka is not your name is it?"
"No sir, it is Михаил—Mikhail. I am fourteen years old. This is my best friend, Паша—Pasha. He too is fourteen, but he is very sick from the cold at night." I talked to the boys as they ate their first hot meal in a long time. Mikahail told us that Pasha loved to suck his cock. One day his neighbor lady saw the boys in Mikahail's house. She was looking through the windows to see what the boys were doing. She told the parents that boys were the handiwork of the devil and that they should never be allowed to be alone together. She said that the devil liked to ruin little boys and send them to hell.
Mikahail's parents don't believe in the devil, or in hell, but they didn't like what the two boys were doing. They forbid them to ever see each other again. The old neighbor woman went to Paha's parents and told them what she had seen. His parents ran Pashs off and told him to never return. Mikahail ran away with his friend, they have been on the street together for three months. That was over, they are now students at BAM.
On our return trip I asked Grigoriy to swing by the hospital so that Dr. Moskvin could look Pasha over. The boy had a bad chest cold, but he was otherwise healthy. The doctor gave him a shot and a large bottle of cough syrup. He told Mikahail to take Pasha home and give him a hot bath then to tuck him into bed and to keep him warm all night. Both boys smiled. NIFTY to support their fine work.
After The Battle
All In The Family
Andy Finds Daddy
The Bus Trip
Bryn and Mell
Chris My Love
From 6 One
In The Locker Rm
Jasson & Jerrod
John and Me
Jordan and Ellis
Laney and Me
Lyle and Kyle
Mark and Lyle
Mitch and Carroll
My Bed Is Made
Pat and Me
The Phone Call
Rainy Day Ralphy
Rape of Rocky
Roby & Cowboy
Ryan and Jeremy
Swimming /w Steve
13 Year Old Daddy
Uncle Ed, Tommy, and Me
Does your mother know you're reading this shit?
Warning: This story is PORNO. I have tried my hand at friction, now I'm trying fiction. This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual activity between men and teen boys.
If you are underage, or if this is illegal where you are, then please go away. If you're under 18, Adios come back when it is legal for you to read this smut.
A strongly worded suggestion has resulted in this statement.
Thus said, this story is copyrighted, ©2005-2012. It is therefore illegal to copy or use any part of this story on any other web site without my written permission.
The first order of business was to get the boys rooms of their own. I asked little Grisha to act as our guide.
He had crawled into every nook and cranny of the old hotel when last we had visited. I knew that he would be able to find his way around even it were dark.