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Part 20: Salvation
'Chip was my friend!' I shouted.
'I know,' said Matti, calmly, 'But there's nothing I can do about it now.'
'Where did you send him?' I demanded, angrily.
'He's on a bus bound for Zachyna,' Matti explained, slightly taken aback by my anger.
'Why?'
'This is only a transit camp,' Matti went on, trying hard to retain his composure, 'Eventually everybody gets transferred to Zachyna. Neutral territory is always safer.'
'I never got a chance to say goodbye!' I snapped, 'I might never see him again!'
'We tried to find you. We didn't know where you were. The bus couldn't wait.'
'He was my FRIEND!'
Matti looked across at me from his desk and flashed me a smile of regret, genuinely sympathetic, but clearly unable to ease my plight.
'Look Cloud, once he gets sent to Zachyna there's a good chance that he'll be adopted. There's a good family who want to adopt Chip. You wouldn't want to deny him that would you?'
I couldn't think of a suitable reply to that, at any rate one that would not sound overly selfish. Suddenly, the cool shadiness of Matti's office depressed me. I found myself lapsing into self pity. I tried appealing to him, for what it was worth.
'Couldn't I go to Zachyna too?' I asked, seeking some ray of hope.
'No,' said Matti categorically.
'Why?' I demanded, vexed and frustrated.
'Because we're not a travel bureau,' he countered, clearly losing patience with me, 'You don't get to choose the destination. We send you wherever we have capacity.'
So that was it. Chip was gone. He was on his way to the UNHCR camp at Zachyna. At least I knew he was safe. He was in neutral territory now, away from the hellhole that was Verolino. And if he was going to be adopted, that was even better. But it was little consolation to me. I was angry. Angry and frustrated. I was disappointed that my reunion with Chip had been so brief, and angry that I never had a chance to say goodbye. I knew Chip wouldn't have chosen to go without saying goodbye to me. They had tried to find me, Matti said. No wonder they couldn't find me. I knew exactly why. Because at the time I was back in that plant room again, fucking about with River. We had returned to the scene of our initial encounter and were probably lasciviously locked together in a sixty-nine, me lying on River, thrusting my hardened dick into his mouth at one end, as I suckled on his rather large boydick at the other. And boy, could he suck. His potent gob swallowed my fuckstick so completely and sucked me so hard it was like he was trying to suck my balls off. Cumming into his powerful suctioning mouth was fantastic. That boy was sure heavy handed, manipulating my little organ with such a strong grip, but oh fuck, the cums that River gave me. His deft fists were so expert, so sexually astute, his nimble fingers around my hot, hard little rod were able to usher my dick into paradise with such paucity. I swear, that boy was born for sex. He did everything, and with such skill and authority, I think I had probably met my match. Yup. In the realms of shotadom, I had finally met my Waterloo. Or if not my Waterloo, at any rate my Blenheim. So that was it. My antics with River had precluded any proper farewell with Chip. It was too late now. Chip was gone. Another good friend and fuckbuddy gone west.
The news of Chip's departure left me with an unwelcome sentiment of doom and despondency and I left Matti's office feeling lower than I had in days. I had already said that my first impressions of Kolina conveyed something forbidding and harsh and austere. With Chip's departure, I was already starting to feel the consequences of that. This news reassured me that Chip was probably lucky to get out when he did, but the bleak and prospectless outlook was not so good for those of us left behind. So I resolved to do something about it.
I had always wondered about the guards at Kolina. Surprisingly little was known about them, except that they were all highly paid volunteers, recruited by some privately run concern that was contracted to the UNHCR to provide security and control access to the camp. I had had very little to do with them, other than seeing them patrolling the camp in their black uniforms and caps, looking like members of some kind of paramilitary faction. But they were supposed to be politically neutral, and were supposed to refrain from fraternizing with the camp residents. Except that they didn't refrain. I soon discovered that a good many of them had learned who all the former shota boys in the camp were, and had established a nice little rapport with the more prolific ones in exchange for contraband. Unbeknown to the UNHCR, all manner of furtive activities were being perpetrated. Little luxuries and illicit substances were being brought into the camp, and traded by the camp guards in exchange for sexual favors. A quick hand job or blowjob by one of the shota boy residents was highly sought after, since many of the boys were renowned for it. If they were lucky, the guards got a full blown fuck - but that would be in exchange for smuggling a high value item like a cellphone or a stash of opium sticks or, in one case, a laptop.
So it was that the opportunity afforded itself for me to use my wily shota boy charms. A few days later, under cover of darkness, one of the guards met me, as we had arranged, in the little compound behind the guardhouse. There was a gated enclosure that was out of sight of the guards' accommodation. No windows overlooked it, and only one guard had the key to the gate at any one time. He happened to be the one on patrol this particular evening. It was a cold, clear night. Really too chilly to be fumbling around outside, and yet Little Cloud was as hard as steel in anticipation, irrepressible as always by the prospect of a good hard rooting. My dick was stiff, but hurting. After all my fucking and sucking and rough sex with River, my little dick had taken such a battering lately, it was actually feeling tender and sore. Even after all my exploits in boyfuckdom, Little Cloud had never hurt this much. But despite that, it was still straining with hardness in the presence of this guard. He was young, only about 18 or 19. The same age as Ciggy probably. Young, physically fit, raging with hormones, and full of hot teen spunk. I wondered why such a young man would want to do a job like this. Although he had his black baseball-type cap pulled down over his eyes, I could see he was blond, with his hair shorn fairly closely. But he was really not bad looking, and quite handsome in his own way.
Saying nothing, he led me out into the little grassy compound behind the guardhouse that was surrounded on three sides by a high mesh fence. It would have been ideal for ball games. But we had an entirely different type of game in the offing. He locked the gate behind us, fiddling away in the darkness with a heavy bunch of keys that he had suspended from a chain attached to his belt. Sometimes it really did feel like we were in prison. There was a single floodlight high above the compound, which illuminated only half of it, so that the other half was permanently in shadow. I went and stood over by the far fence, shivering slightly in the evening chill, feeling quite anonymous in the half-light. Still saying nothing, this young guard came over to me, and stood very close to me. He looked me up and down and gave me a sheepish smile. What I liked best was that he openly squeezed his crotch through the front of his black jumpsuit. He was already hard. In sympathy, Little Cloud pulsed with pleasure. The young guard reached out and took me by the elbow gently, and led me over to a rectangular concrete vent that was embedded in the ground. It looked something like a stone sarcophagus, about three feet high, with a flat surface and slatted vents in the sides. It was probably a vent for an underground chamber, buried somewhere beneath the compound. The gray concrete was covered in places with a coating of green moss. He placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down, as if to indicate that I should lie down on the concrete slab. I had no hesitation in lying down for him. He stood back and watched as I sat down on the shallow structure, and then laid back, spreading myself out on the cold, hard concrete. He had that look of longing, that hungry, haunted look that so many of the young conscripts had. I knew what he wanted. He needed relief, and he knew that a prodigious little shota boy like me would be willing to give it to him.
Leaning over me, he reached down and stripped me, impetuously but expertly unfastening my pants and pulling them down. I raised my butt so he could pull my pants down to my knees and he ran a hand over my exposed crotch. His fingers were cold around my boyshit, and seemed to leave icy imprints where he grabbed my hot little rod. Little Cloud sprang up, begging for attention. The guard stuck his hand between my legs and felt for my snatch, giving a cursory squeeze to my little hairless balls. My little star was burning hot, smoldering for a good hard rooting. He fished about in his crotch unbuttoning the fly of his jumpsuit, and he managed to free his stiff teen cock from the folds of his clothing. It poked out through the opening in his jumpsuit, pink and proud. His all-in-one jumpsuit made it impossible for him to take anything off. It wasn't ideal, and generally I didn't like what I called 'flyhole fucks' because you could never get the full effect of a fully exposed dick or the guy's balls. But then, as I knew from experience, some guys actually found that more arousing. Personally, I thought the clothing got in the way, but some guys found it an enormous turn on.
This young guard then turned me over, indicating that he wanted to fuck me from behind. I preferred face to face, because I liked to look at the guy who was fucking me, especially to admire their expression as they sank their dick into me, and especially when they cummed in me. But doggy-style was just fine. I understood that some guys preferred to watch their cock disappearing between the rounded cheeks of a tight young boy butt. It meant turning my chest and tummy towards the dirty concrete. I turned over for him, my butt exposed, and laid my cheek against the cold, hard concrete. Gently mounting me, he closed in to fuck me. He took a moment to appreciate the little boy he was about to fuck. He seemed to want to take in my appearance, as though to get the full effect of what he was about to do. I liked that, because I knew that he was grateful for this. It wasn't just a quick fuck - a hasty, furtive fumble in the dark - it was a rich and beautiful encounter that needed to be savored. He spread his arms and propped himself above me, considerate enough not to put his full weight on me. I was only small in comparison, and my tiny frame beneath the weight of a fully grown man could be uncomfortable. Moving only his hips, he entered me, with a firm, decisive thrust. He was very strong. There was a murmur of approval and appreciation from him as his dick glided up inside me, and he exhaled deeply with the pleasure. His dick bottomed out fully into my little cunt and the ecstasy was apparent in the way he froze momentarily, almost incapacitated with the sheer warmth and tightness that enveloped his big, thick fuckstick. I loved having that effect on guys. I laid there beneath him, impaled on his stiffness, and I squirmed about a little, affirming my little boy helplessness at the hands of this virile young male, openly demonstrating the pleasure his dick was driving into me.
When he was fully inside me, he paused momentarily, and then powerfucked me with quick, short strokes, hammering into my butt with great precision and force. He cummed very quickly, probably only after just a few minutes. No man lasted too long in my veteran little cunt. He spunked with good vigor too, the squirts of his jizz tangible inside my snatch, and he even had the presence of mind to pull out, spreading the cheeks of my butt in his big palms, and watched his thick spunkwad trickle back out. He pressed his fingertips into the sensitive skin around my little star, coaxing his cum to squeeze back out in a little boy creampie. That was nice. I looked at him over my shoulder and I could see him watching that with a crooked little smile of fascination, then he looked up at me and winked. He was pleased with me, and clearly satisfied with our encounter. In turn, I was happy that I had pleased him. It was always inordinately thrilling for me to know that a guy had derived such pleasure from me. Then, when it was over, he tucked his wet dick back into his jumpsuit, buttoned his flies and silently turned to leave. As he did so, he purposefully left the gate to the compound unlocked. I got up, my chest and tummy chilled from the cold concrete, and pulled my pants back up. My snatch was still hurting from the guard's hard rooting. His jizz, now turning cool, was trickling down my thighs. But it didn't matter. I got what I wanted. That night, under cover of darkness, we slipped out through the unlocked gate. I summoned River, who in turn woke up Tallin. We hastily gathered up what we could of our belongings, and we simply walked away. We were finally out of Kolina. We were free.
* * * * * *
That night, it rained heavily. It was just our luck to find ourselves out in the Verolino countryside, wandering the narrow lanes that connected the villages in this region, with no adequate shoes or clothing. River led the way, all the time holding onto Tallin's little hand. I followed on behind, braving the spray that was pelting hard against our faces, and resigning ourselves to getting drenched. The rain saturated my hair and was running down the back of my neck. But we trudged on regardless, determined to get as far away from Kolina as possible.
We kept to the lesser used roads, the ones that were too narrow for trucks or tanks, in order to minimize the probability of encountering any military. Three young boys out in the countryside alone, especially during curfew, was guaranteed to get us all arrested. If we thought we saw any vehicle lights approaching, we hid in the drainage gullies at the side of the road, though it did mean standing in several inches of filthy rainwater. The result of that was the inordinately undesirable sensation of getting our shoes wet through, so that they squelched when we walked.
Through the deluge, we started to cut across open country, negotiating the hilly, rocky terrain of the Verolino countryside. It was certainly remote, which removed the possibility of encountering any patrols, but the drawback was that the crosswinds added a chill factor to our exposure, so now we were not only wet, we were freezing cold as well. After walking for most of the night, the undulating ground beneath us was turning into a quagmire that simply made it too difficult to walk. We were slipping and sliding around in the mud so much that we could barely make any headway. We started to reach a point of cold and exhaustion where we almost did not have the energy nor the impetus to continue. It got late, and we were all starting to tire. We had walked for so long we were convinced that we must have put a fair distance between us and the UNHCR camp at Kolina. River led the way, as though he knew exactly what direction we had to head in. Though I wasn't at all sure if he was just following his instincts. We certainly had no means by which to navigate.
Eventually, clambering up a steep hillside, so we could get a good view of the valley below, we came across the entrance to an old cave, well hidden behind trees and thick vegetation. The cave was quite shallow, no more than an indentation in the rock, and didn't penetrate too far into the hillside, but it was perfect for our needs. Standing there on the hillside in the rain, we simultaneously stopped and looked at each other, all probably thinking the same thing. The cave was isolated enough to afford us a safe haven for the night, and high enough on the hillside to ensure that we could not be ambushed or attacked as we slept. The vegetation provided some cover to the low, open front of the cave. It was perfect. We had to duck down to get inside, because the mouth of the cave was quite low, but inside the chamber of the cave widened a little, so that it was possible for us to hide unseen and away from the lashing gale of the rain that swept across the open mouth of the cave. We were protected from the elements, though it was dark and still a little damp inside, and our high-pitched voices echoed eerily off the bare rock. We excitedly began to unload the light provisions we had brought with us, and took off our sodden jackets and coats.
The first thing I noticed was that the temperature inside the cave was fairly constant - neither too cold nor too warm. We spread out and made ourselves at home, resigned to making this our abode at least for tonight. Once we were out of the rain and able to dry off, we were finally able to rest. I sensed our spirits lifting as we did so. Tallin took off all his clothes, thinking it quite amusing that he was able to amble around the cave naked and set about exploring our surroundings with boyish curiosity. Meanwhile, River laid out Tallin's saturated schoolboy uniform on the rocks to dry. There was a small outcrop of higher rock towards the back of the cave, where it was possible to clamber up and look down on the main floor of the cave, like it was a pit overlooked by a natural walkway. Tallin was the first to clamber up there using his bare little feet to ascend like a little monkey. I quite enjoyed looking at his perfect little body, the first time I had seen him totally naked. I had seen glimpses of his body, of course, but now, seeing him totally unclothed, I was in awe of his beauty. His physique was perfect, with faultless proportions and that tanned, olive skin, with the cute peach fuzz on his forearms. I watching his olive-skinned little bubble butt as he negotiated the climb and sat up there on the higher rocks, clearly pleased with his progress, looking down at us with those beautiful almond-shaped cobalt blue eyes. I swear Tallin was one of the most beautiful little creatures I had ever seen.
River was unusually resourceful, I discovered. He had had the foresight to bring some food with him - some fruit, a pack of cookies, and even a few cans of soda which he had probably purloined from the canteen at Kolina, and stuffed into his little backpack before leaving. He had even thought to bring matches, and confidently set about building a fire. Somehow, he knew to collect kindling from near the cave entrance, where there was plenty of dead wood that was not too wet. He built the fire so that it was out of sight of the entrance to the cave. He got a good little fire going, and we all huddled around it as we ate the spoils he had brought. At that moment, I was grateful for River. I wasn't an outdoor type at all and wouldn't have known where to start. I realized I would have been totally lost without him.
Later, after we had eaten, and were reasonably rested, River and I sat across from each other, warming ourselves in the glow of the fire, which cast eerie shadows onto the walls of the cave around us. Like Tallin, we were both naked, relying on the fire to keep us warm. Darkness enveloped the valley beyond the entrance to the cave, and we felt warm and safe. Tallin, his tummy now full, had fallen asleep just next to River, stretched out on his thick, fleece coat. River thoughtfully draped the little boy's school blazer over his naked little frame as he slept. Then, in the silence, broken only by the odd crackle from the fire, River looked over and saw me deep in thought.
'Thinking about that boy of yours?' he asked, taking a guess at what was occupying my mind.
'Who Ciggy?' I asked, a little wrongfooted by his description.
'Yeah, the American?'
I nodded. He was very astute. River was still the only one I had told about Ciggy. Now that we were out of Kolina, I was obliged to think about where we were going and what I was going to do next, and inevitably, Ciggy was now my priority. I guess River knew that.
'Yeh, I miss him,' I said, 'As much as you can miss someone you hardly know.'
'The heart knows what it needs,' River replied, 'Even if you don't.'
It was another very profound remark, and yet further evidence of River's depth and perceptiveness.
'Do you think I'll ever see him again?' I asked, searching for reassurance.
'Yup,' he replied, emphatically, 'I'm sure of it.'
Suddenly, sitting over there on my own, I shivered. A chill spread through me, not because I was cold, but because I wasn't convinced. Perhaps it was sparked by the vague concept that I might never see Ciggy again. It was a horrible thought. That was when River shifted towards me. He noted my sudden discomfort and came over to sit next to me, affectionately putting an arm around me. His naked body next to mine was very reassuring. By now, we were both comfortable in our nakedness. I smiled at him as he did so, instantly warmed by his proximity. He was not only perceptive, he was a very loving and tactile boy, and was naturally attuned to other people's feelings. He had an emotional maturity that was quite unusual for a boy of his age, and certainly rare for a shota boy who was as sexy and handsome as him. He was very beautiful, but he was not vain and conceited. In fact he was humble and very down to earth.
'I've got to find him,' I said.
He gave a series of nods, acknowledging my response, fully in agreement, like he already knew that that was really the only option for me.
'Tomorrow we'll make contact with the Resistance,' he said, 'They'll help us.'
I turned and looked at him, because this was the first time he had openly acknowledged that he knew where we were going.
'Really?' I asked him, 'Do you know how to find them?'
He nodded confidently, without a hint of doubt.
'Yup,' he said, 'I've got it all worked out.'
'I'll be so glad to get out of this hellhole,' I added.
'You and me both,' he replied.
Reassured, I settled down to sleep, leaving River to tend the fire. I wrapped myself up in my jacket, which was still a little damp, and leaned back against the rocks to doze off. But I couldn't really sleep. Finding ourselves alone in this darkened, ancient space, I was a little alienated. But I was also horny and frustrated. My libido was so irrepressible that sometimes it felt like I needed to be sucking and fucking all the time. I was already horned up from all the sex with River, but frustrated that my earlier encounter with the guard at Kolina had not afforded the opportunity for me to cum. It was simply a utilitarian transaction, not for my benefit at all. And yet, throughout the whole thing, Little Cloud had been horned up, stiffly doing his duty like a loyal soldier, ready to perform and spit out a reciprocal little boy load. But sadly, he went unrewarded. That encounter with the young guard seemed so long ago now, like it was yesterday, though in reality it was only several hours ago. I had no doubt that my horniness was bolstered by the sight of Tallin lying there asleep, his trim, tight olive-skinned little body partially exposed, and his little boy cuteness, along with that magical little bobble deep inside his boysnatch which made him infinitely attractive to me. I wanted to fuck that bobble. I wanted to stick my dick into him, suck his pretty little cocklet and cum all over him. Shit, I wanted to do stuff with him real bad. He was infinitely attractive to me. Of course I fancied him. But then, that had always been my problem - I fancied everybody. Every older guy represented a good stiff rooting and every younger boy was an inordinately pleasurable fuck. I had been highly sexualized from as far back as I could remember. It was all I knew. I just couldn't help it.
At that moment, the sleeping figure of Tallin stirred a little, throwing off the blazer that River had draped over him as a makeshift blanket. He was lying there with his head turned to one side, one leg bent up at the knee, his hairless crotch on display, and Tallin's floppy little boydick was nestling there, fully exposed. River saw that and he looked over at me.
'Isn't he beautiful?' said River.
And at that moment I knew that River had the same appreciation of him as me. What he saw was the very same beauty and allure that I saw, and I knew that his desires were fuelled by the very same primal instincts as me. For a few moments, we both gazed at him, admiring this boy's beauty, and a sardonic smile spread across River's face.
'I'm gonna bonerize him,' said River, 'Watch this.'
I was rather amused by his terminology, and I quite liked River's distinctive parlance. I had never heard the word bonerize before, and yet I knew exactly what it meant. Sure enough, he leaned over the sleeping little boy, and reached for the exposed boyshit that was nestling there, innocent and untouched. Tallin had a beautiful little todger, curled up and retracted like a juicy little worm.
'Watch,' River said again.
It was clear that River probably did this on a regular basis. Shit, if I had a premium little shota boy fuckbuddy like that, I think I would too. Indeed, how could I ever resist? I watched as River gently took the fat, floppy little worm between his thumb and finger, and massaged it up and down. At first it seemed that all he was doing was manipulating Tallin's foreskin, making the pale pink little cockhead peek out of the end. But very soon, sure enough with a little perseverance, River managed to get the boy's tiny dick to stiffen, even as he slept, and then went on stroking it up and down until it was fully engorged and straining stiffly to attention. Yup, that little boy was well and truly bonerized. Then, when it was standing up at full mast, River gently lowered his face down to Tallin's crotch and sucked the erect little dick into his mouth. It was very erotic to see that hardened little todger fully enveloped in River's pursed lips, buried completely into his mouth, and he gently bobbed his blond head up and down on it, clearly relishing the sensation of having that stiff little cocklet penetrating into his mouth, his proficient tongue slathering the little pole with saliva until it was shiny and wet.
When he had finished, he raised his head and looked at me with the most perverse grin. River beckoned me closer, as though to share some thought that had just occurred to him. I leaned towards him to hear what he had to tell me.
'Let's do him together,' he whispered, in hushed tones, holding up a palm to one side of his lips as though to save Tallin from hearing.
I hesitated a moment - not because I was in any way shocked by River's proposition, but because I didn't expect River would ever willingly share Tallin with me.
'Go on,' he urged me, 'I've always wanted to see him take two cocks.'
River was so perverse. That was what I liked about him. Little Cloud started to stiffen even more in my crotch. The prospect was just too good to be true. To get to fuck little Tallin AND with River joining in? Both of us ravaging his little body, feeding off that magical little cunt? Oh fuck, the concept was mindblowingly fantastic.
I had a go at Tallin's little dick too. We both took turns on the bonerized little boy as though we were engaged in a concerted effort to make him cum. It was strange, but he seemed to go into orgasm even while he was asleep. I didn't even know that was possible, but judging by the look on his face, he must have been having the most beautiful erotic dream. Sure enough, his little peg seemed to pulse a couple of times and he trembled a little even as he slept. Then, only when it was over, did he open his eyes.
Tallin looked up at me and whispered plaintively, as though he had been awake all the time and knew exactly what was going on.
'Fuck my hiney,' he said, quite distinctly.
And with that he turned over, getting up on all fours, and stuck his butt up in the air, purring away with need.
'Please fuck my hiney.'
He was cutely squirming around on his hands and knees as he said it, and waggling his little butt. His little high pitched moans were so cute and incredibly arousing. Right now his hiney looked damn good. His butt was so small and cute and round, it looked like it needed a good pummeling. It was the type of pert little bubble butt that was just made to be fucked hard, or at least spattered with a liberal helping of boyspunk.
I looked at River, as though to seek permission. Tallin was his boy, after all.
'Well? Go on,' he said, as though this was some kind of routine chore that had to be accomplished, 'He wants his hiney fucked.'
I scooted up and closed in with my dick pointing straight out, hot and hard and begging to be buried hilt deep into a welcoming little boy cunt. I had heard so much about this boy Tallin - this special little shota boy, with the magical implant which made his little cunt so heavenly. At last, my dick was going to get to sample that legendary little orifice. Tallin was tight, but easy to penetrate. When I entered him, his little tunnel was smooth and snug. It opened up to my dick, his little muscle yielding to its girth as it forced its way inside him, and my cockhead felt like it was gripped in a glove of warm velvet. It bottomed out in him, sinking into his creamy warmth as far as it would go, and I suddenly felt a tangible pressure on the underside of my dick. Something semi-rigid was digging into my frenulum, and it was so good it sent a ripple of intense ecstasy all through me, which made me moan out loud with pleasure. I could feel his bobble! River saw that and gave a perverse and knowing smile, and he looked at me with a stare that said he knew exactly what that felt like, and perhaps even remembered the very first time he had sampled that particular sensation.
'Oh yeah!' he said, with a challenging, almost mocking tone, asserting that he knew exactly what I was feeling right now.
I didn't say anything. It felt so good, I thrust into Tallin one more time. I stabbed my dick into him even harder, so his bobble once again stimulated my dick just at the most sensitive and pleasurable part. It sent volts of electricity all through my balls and down the insides of my thighs, making my legs tremble and my knees weaken, and I nearly doubled up it was so intense. Every time I thrust into him, Tallin's prostate implant dug into the underside of my dick. I discovered that if I altered the angle slightly, I could strike his little bobble with small variations in the point of contact with my dick, and by varying my speed and the depth at which I fucked into him, I could control the amount of pleasure his implant afforded me. I had never felt anything so pleasurable in all my life. I went on, fucking my little hairless dickie in and out, totally overwhelmed by the utter bliss that was infusing into me from that prepubescent little snatch.
Whilst I fucked Tallin's butt, River scooted over to fuck Tallin's face. He took up position on his knees, and fed that rather large and already erect boydick of his into Tallin's mouth. Tallin liked that, and seemed to settle quite comfortably into being spit roasted by both of us. At that moment I admired Tallin's prodigiousness. He was bobbing his head on River's cock at one end while thrusting backwards to meet my cock at the other. These were little nuances which cannot be taught. Tallin was a natural, and for such a young and relatively inexperienced shota boy, he was damn good.
River smiled at me, himself lost in the pleasure of fucking his stiffened dick into Tallin's pursed lips. I held onto Tallin's slim hips, pulling his tiny pelvis onto my cock, thrusting into his magical little snatch. I smiled back, feeling utter gratitude towards the man who had taken the trouble to insert that implant, and a deep appreciation for his astuteness in locating it in just the right spot, for he must have known the rudiments of boyfucking extremely well, in addition to knowing what stimulates a cock in exactly the right place. I knew from experience that the frenulum and corona were the most sensitive part of a boydick, and the bobble had been placed to strike at the most sensitive part - oh how that dirty fucker must have known when he put that bobble there. I couldn't help wondering whether he had ever been tempted to try out the results of his endeavors, and whether he had himself actually sampled the delights of his own handiwork.
The sensation afforded by Tallin's bobble hitting my cockhead inflated it to near-bursting point, so much so that the sheer pleasure intensified in my brain where I couldn't fuck it into him quickly enough or hard enough. I thoroughly pummeled Tallin's magical little butt until I had forced him down onto the ground. He collapsed onto River's thick fleece coat and was lying flat by now, with me astride his little butt, still hammering into him from above. River was now kneeling back on his haunches, his dick still hard, just watching. And he jacked his dick with long, firm strokes as he watched us, no doubt appreciating the sight of his little 'brother' being thoroughly pounded into submission by another shota boy.
I cummed in no time. When I reached nirvana, my dick exploded in pleasurable delight deep inside Tallin's butt. I cried out loudly, so tangible was the impending pleasure. I was always in the habit of vocalizing my orgasms anyway. I was a very vociferous cummer. Indeed, I couldn't stand silent cummers, those who gave a few muted puffs and barely twitched a muscle when they cummed. A good hard cum needed to be proclaimed, and this one was perhaps most deserving of all, so I cried out fairly loudly. My cry echoed off the walls of the cave. It was a desperate, helpless, childish vocalization, annunciating the sheer delight of that little bobble digging into my cockhead, intensifying the high of my orgasm beyond anything I had ever felt before. When my orgasm took hold, it was almost as though I had been punched in the stomach. It was like a damburst of pure pleasure, my dick feeling like it had literally ripped open. The powerful yet pleasurable spasms in my abdomen made me double up violently, as though my whole crotch was contracting in ecstasy. It was the most delicious orgasm and it went on for a few prolonged seconds, so that I was lost in a seizure of deep sexual bliss as my kidspunk filled Tallin's little cunt, pumping in flowing waves deep inside his veteran little snatch. It felt like I had spunked a whole gallon of cum inside him. I hadn't of course, just my usual three little kiddie-sized squirts.
When it was over, I was so incapacitated that I didn't even have the presence of mind to pull out. I was lying on top of Tallin, his naked little boy body pinioned underneath me. My still hard dick stayed lodged in Tallin's butt, so that he was still fucking himself on my spent organ, thrusting backwards into me, still soaking up the pleasure of my cockhead hitting his bobble. I looked at River, still gently maneuvering his own dick in his fist. He saw me looking somewhat dazed and for the first time in my life rendered totally speechless. He smiled a crooked little smile when he saw my incredulity.
'See,' he said smugly, 'I told you.'
It wasn't easy to pull my dick out of Tallin's little cunt. Tell the truth, it was an effort to withdraw my boycock from such a pleasurable place, reluctant to forsake the inordinate stimulation that Tallin's little cunt had afforded me. But I had to. I pulled out my wet dick, and left Tallin lying there on the coat. I collapsed down next to him, trying to get my breath back. My breathing was shallow and ragged, more from surprise than exhaustion.
Tallin felt his snatch being vacated, and he curled around with a mischievous grin. As he turned over, I noticed that even his little boydick was still hard. Then I saw that when Tallin lifted his butt up, there was a pool of wetness left behind, that was soaking a big stain into River's fleece coat.
River saw me looking at it. I looked up at him, with a 'what the fuck' expression, wondering what was going on.
'Oh, I forgot to tell you,' said River, casually, 'Fucking his bobble too hard makes him pee.'
It was quite a big stain. Tallin had peed all over River's coat. I was incredulous. And at that point, Tallin was lying on his side grinning sheepishly, still manipulating his turgid little organ, and he gave a cute, bashful little giggle, apparently unperturbed by the little pool of pee, maybe even perversely pleased by it. But River was smiling.
'Looks like you hammered his prostate a bit too hard,' he observed, 'I've never seen him pee that much.'
My cock hardened even more. To think I had fucked Tallin's bobble so hard that it had made his bladder release! I had literally fucked the pee out of him! River said it so nonchalantly that it was almost as though he considered it a triviality, a regular occurrence that was in no way remarkable. Oh fuck, these were quite the most perverse shota boys I had ever met.
Ignoring the pee stain, Tallin got back up on all fours, squirming playfully. He reached down between his legs and played with his stiffie, pulling it roughly, squeezing the head and tugging it all over the place, desperate to cum himself. He cried out, plaintively.
'Make it cum,' he pleaded urgently, 'please make it cum.'
I like the way he referred to his dickie as 'it', as though it was somehow disembodied from him.
River hastily scooted around on his knees, his dick still hard, and he took up position behind Tallin. He simply switched from his mouth to his butt, and River pushed it into him in one smooth motion, sinking his big dick into Tallin's cum-filled little fanny all the way. It sank inside him with consummate ease. You could tell that River's dick was familiar with Tallin's little cunt. The slickness of his motions indicated that he had probably done this many times before. He then started thrusting into Tallin, filling the vacancy that my dick had created.
'Take this,' he called out, as he fucked away, his dick buried completely inside Tallin's narrow little pelvis, 'Fuck you!'
Tallin seemed to respond to River's calls, so much so that the louder and more obscene his language, the more Tallin was turned on.
'Ooh, harder,' Tallin was begging, 'harder!'
'Yeah, fuck you, you little cunt!' River was calling out, 'You want your little hiney filled?'
Tallin was nodding, his eyes closed, his expression fixed in a desperate pursuit of his little boy cum.
'I'm gonna fuckin' break you!' River went on.
River was thrusting into him quite violently, rocking Tallin real hard. It actually made me recoil slightly, repulsed by the brutality of River's fucking. River was powerfucking in quick, rhythmic thrusts, expertly rooting Tallin's little cunt. It was quite the most oppressive boyfucking I had ever seen, and it was all the more shocking and raunchy because River was so innocent looking, with his golden blond locks and wholesome choirboy looks, and yet he was thrusting that oversized boydick so aggressively into that little boy, calling out these obscenities. It just looked so good, so sexy, so erotic. Fuck, it was fantastic.
'Feel my cock you little cunt!'
And Tallin was taking it. He was taking River's cock like a seasoned shota boy - just like a boy who had so much more experience. And as River powerfucked Tallin, he was making the boy rock violently, building to a shattering crescendo. River cummed very quickly, and his sudden effusion of short, sharp breaths signaled his own orgasm approaching.
'Take my steaming seed you little cunt!'
At which point River groaned loudly and thrust extra hard, extra deep, and stopped, with his dick firmly embedded inside Tallin. Tallin let go of his own little dick at the same time, apparently also cumming. He had timed his orgasm with River's, and just at the right moment released his grip and allowed his little peg to pulse away completely unassisted. He squealed, his mouth agape with pleasure, and I could actually see his little dick cumming between his legs. It waggled about in mid-air, jerking up and down violently in the throes of ecstasy, desperately trying to eject the kiddiecum that he didn't yet have. It emitted one or two little drops of stray pee that were flung onto the ground, but his little dick went right on pulsing redundantly. His little ball sac seemed to contract so that his tiny balls almost disappeared right up into his crotch, even with his young snatch distended by River's big dick. To see this beautiful, prodigious little boy, this inordinately sexualized little boy, impaled on River's boydick, in the throes of orgasm, was fantastic. He was such a sexy, horny little tyke. Why couldn't all little boys be like Tallin? Fuck, it was so erotic.
* * * * * *
We stayed in the cave throughout the next day, sheltering from the weather. It rained all day, and we were hemmed in. We didn't venture to try and continue our journey whilst the atrocious weather persisted. Instead, we decided to ride it out, and wait until the skies cleared. We preferred to travel at night anyway, to avoid being seen. Finally, that night, the rain eased off, and we emerged from the relative safety and shelter of the cave that had been our home for the night, and we clambered back down the hillside to continue our trek.
On our journey, we passed the endless wrecks of military hardware, some of which were still smoldering. The burned out wrecks of trucks, tanks and SPGs were testimony to the ferocity of the battle that must have taken place. Huge howitzers lay abandoned by the roadside, their barrels pointed accusingly at the sky, nestling amongst piles of spent shell cases. The extent of the destruction was frightening. Sometimes River and I exchanged concerned looks, but none of us dared vocalize our thoughts. In all the time we were walking, and observing this destruction around us, I couldn't help but to wonder why the fighting was continuing. There was supposed to be a truce whilst the peace talks were in progress. Where was VFOR? What had happened to the NATO coalition that had been sent in to police the ceasefire? It appeared to have all been in vain because, whether it was known to the peacekeeping forces or not, the VLA nationalists and the KAPO rebels were still fighting.
Inevitably, the rain returned, and once again we knew we had to seek shelter. Once again, our clothes were wet through. Once again, our spirits hit rock bottom. But we walked on, through the rain, simply not knowing what else to do. We walked for many hours, once again reaching the limits of our endurance. We could travel no further than Tallin could manage, and he tired before the rest of us. He was very brave though. I admired his fortitude. Tell the truth, I was amazed he could walk at all after the punishment that River and I gave his little butt last night. We had both rooted our dicks deep and hard into his little abdomen. And River and I both had larger than average dicks for our age, we must have thoroughly savaged his little star. A lesser boy would have never been able to accommodate such deep intrusion and such rough treatment. But Tallin did. He walked as far as his already abused little body could endure. He walked until he was exhausted. But he never grumbled, not once.
Eventually we saw the lights of a remote village up ahead. We had walked a vast distance and this was the first sign of human habitation that we had come across. River said this may be where we might make contact with the Resistance, although even he was not too sure what we might find there. He seemed to harbor this vague notion that the Resistance would find us, rather than the other way around. I hoped he was right. At any rate, I had to trust him. His instincts had been pretty spot on so far.
As we entered the village, we could see that there was no one around. It was all very ghostly. Most of the houses were shell damaged. There were signs of heavy fighting everywhere. The houses that were not completely burned out, had tell-tale pockmarks in their brickwork, or whole rafts of chipped plaster where the armor-piercing rounds of small arms fire had ricocheted off them in the fighting. There were no high explosive rounds, mortars or artillery, so it was clear to me that the fighting here was almost certainly hand-to-hand. Armor-piercing rounds like these came from light weapons used by mobile troops, probably infantry, and were usually intended to penetrate body-armor. The unusual thing was that every now and then we came across a house that was completely untouched, so there was this strange juxtaposition of a pristine, well-kept dwelling, that was clearly still occupied, standing between two burned-out and abandoned ones. It was a sure sign that the residents of those houses had been targeted, whilst others had been spared. It was no coincidence, and I knew that the destruction was not random, nor sheer luck. No. It was a sign of the ethnic cleansing that was now going on in Verolino, and probably meant that the VLA had swept through here very recently.
Towards the centre of the village there was a short parade of shops. Except that the shops were all boarded up and looked like they hadn't been open for months. But, encouragingly, there was an inn - a very old beer house that seemed to be at the centre of the village. It looked like it could once have been a staging post. It was situated on the corner of a crossroads and had its own walled yard. What was not so encouraging was that there were military vehicles parked in the yard. There was a staff car, a black Mercedes with VLA pennants on the grille, as well as two APCs and an open truck. They all sported the familiar VLA insignia - the two-headed skulking bear on a background of blue and white. The inn itself was the only building that had its lights blazing, and there was loud music and the hubbub of many voices emanating from inside. It was welcoming, though forbidding at the same time. We really didn't know where else to go, what direction to head in, and where else we might seek refuge. We were tired, hungry and wet, so we decided to go in, even at the risk of encountering the VLA.
We gathered ourselves together at the porch of the inn, at last out of the rain, and pushed our way in through the heavy double doors. The blast of music and voices and general merriment hit us as soon as we entered the inn. The atmosphere was heavy with smoke. We stood at the doorway, glad to be out of the rain, but wet and bedraggled and looking distinctly out of place. The room was filled to the gunwales with drinkers. Despite the cacophony, the inn was warm and inviting. It had stone walls and a stone floor that looked like it had been there since the beginning of time. There was a big fireplace, roaring with an animated, crackling fire. Dotted around were long tables with VLA soldiers, all the worse for drink, shouting and cursing and raising their voices in a rousing song - it was the VLA soldiers' political anthem. And as they sang, they spilt copious slops of beer all over the tables and the stone floor. They were oblivious to us three bedraggled shota boys as we sidled inside, instinctively closing ranks, but for the moment unnoticed by the rowdy, drunken revelers.
Suddenly, from an open doorway to one side of the room, a man appeared, and beckoned us towards him.
'This way!' he called out harshly, it seemed immediately understanding our predicament and anxious to shelter us from the attentions of the VLA soldiers.
His tone was slightly subdued, I guess because he didn't want the soldiers to pay too much attention to us. We looked over, hesitating for a moment, but only long enough to decide if we could trust him. There was no time for considered approximations - we only had a split second before the soldiers noticed us. He gestured towards the room behind him and stepped aside, as if inviting us to go in. So we did.
Without saying anything, the man led us through the doorway to the side of the inn. We all shuffled meekly into a side room leaving a trail of muddy footprints on the stone floor. The room was a type of kitchen, with cooking utensils hanging on the walls, a big rack of pots and pans suspended from the ceiling above a large wooden butchers block. There was a deep white porcelain sink in one corner, and a large wooden table at the other. At the center of the room was a tall wood-burning stove, with a flue that went up towards the low ceiling and disappeared through a hole in the wall. The stove radiated a welcome haze of heat so that the room positively glowed with warmth. The man was careful to check that we had not been seen and closed the wooden batten door behind us. The general noise and commotion from the inn was instantly reduced to just a background noise filtering through the batten door. He put on a harsh bare light bulb and stood by the doorway studying us with some curiosity.
'You can warm up in here,' he said curtly.
We all looked at each other clearly not expecting that we would be welcomed quite so readily.
'You should have come in the back way,' said the man, 'The VLA might have seen you.'
'We didn't know,' River explained.
'No matter,' said the man, 'you're here now.'
'You sound like you were expecting us,' I said, suspicious.
'I was,' he replied, 'Aren't you the boys from Kolina?'
'How do you know who we are?' I asked, a little aggressively and with a note of mistrust.
'Other boys have come this way too,' he told us.
River and I exchanged glances again, perhaps this time pleased to know that some of the other boys had also escaped from Kolina, just as River had planned.
'Stay here and get dry,' said the man, 'there are towels by the sink.'
He seemed very calm, very focused and very much in control. We didn't know him, but his presence was very reassuring. His tone was measured and authoritative, and his countenance was quite imposing. I assumed he was the innkeeper. He was tall, well over six feet, I guessed, and probably in his mid to late 40s. He had long, bushy sideburns and was slightly balding, with a high forehead that had very deep wrinkles across it. But he had very bright, kindly eyes that seemed to sparkle with empathy and compassion. There was something very warm and comforting about his demeanor and I was instantly at ease in his presence.
We did as he asked. River was the first to start removing his clothes. Taking off our saturated jackets and coats, it was apparent that we were soaked through to the skin, so that our undershirts had to be peeled off our clammy backs. Tallin's schoolboy uniform was clinging to him like a second skin. I helped River to strip off his wet shirt and he helped me to pull mine off. We tossed our wet, heavy clothes into a big heap on the stone floor and moved over to the big porcelain sink. River handed out a towel to each of us. It was a relief to discard our sodden garments and feel the soft, fluffy towels on our skin as we toweled ourselves dry. The towels were soft and clean and smelled of some mildly scented detergent. I watched the way that River helped Tallin to get dry, toweling the little boy's thick black hair into a halo of damp spikes. He also toweled in between his shapely little legs and around his floppy little boydick. And Tallin just stood there, braving the rough toweling, those almond-shaped cobalt blue eyes sparkling cutely. Like the rest of us, he had no qualms about being naked, and he spotted me openly ogling him as River dried him off. It was quite nice to see how River did things for him and it reminded me so much of how I was with Simon-Peter. We wrapped the big soft towels around us and gathered around the stove, warming our backs and our hands.
'May I ask who you are?' I ventured.
'My name is Altair,' said the man, and then almost in the same sentence he asked, 'Are you the one they call Cloud?'
I was momentarily confused and alerted by this question.
'How do you know my name?' I asked, mystified.
'I have news for you,' Altair went on.
I instantly dropped my guardedness and listened to him.
'What news?' I asked, ameliorating my tones a little.
'News of your friend, the one they call Ciggy.'
I stepped towards him, bolstered by this news.
'You know Ciggy?' I asked, enthused, 'Have you seen him? Is he okay?'
'Please sit down,' said Altair, gesturing towards some wooden stools that were scattered randomly around the stove.
I stopped, hovering close to him, hesitating. I didn't like the sound of that. I looked at him, searching for signs that he wasn't about to tell me anything horrible. But I took a deep breath and sat down, resigned to doing as he instructed. I wrapped the big towel around my shoulders and looked up at him meekly. Altair stood over me, his tall frame towering there, authoritative and commanding.
'He is alive,' Altair explained, 'But he has been wounded. He is being cared for at a Red Cross field hospital.'
It was not good news. It was shocking, in fact.
'How... how bad is it?' I stammered.
'He has head injuries,' said Altair, looking earnestly into my eyes, 'But he will recover.'
All my internal organs instantly turned to jelly, and a small charge went off in my head, like a miniscule explosion touched off by the shock. I felt sick. River edged closer to me, dragging one of the wooden stools closer to mine, and put an arm around my shoulders, squeezing me affectionately as I assimilated this news.
'He was caught in the artillery bombardment,' Altair continued, 'And shrapnel pierced his skull. He was in a coma. When he came round, he asked for you.'
'He asked for me?'
'Yes. He said we must find you at all costs. You've no idea how relieved I am to have found you.'
'Can I see him?' was all I could think to ask.
'Not yet,' said Altair, 'First you must hide out here. You can see him when it is safe.'
'But I need to go to him,' I insisted.
'That is not possible. You must wait until it is safe.'
'How do you know all this?' I asked him, astonished.
'There will be time for questions later,' Altair replied, mysteriously, and moved towards the doorway,
'But now I must go. I must attend to my customers. Please excuse me.'
Then he turned once more, before he left the room and looked around at us gravely.
'I will send in some hot drinks for you,' he said, and then added, almost as an afterthought, 'Don't leave this room. You must not let the VLA soldiers see you.'
We all nodded, eager to comply. We could see the inn was busy, crammed with VLA soldiers all drinking and, ominously, armed with automatic pistols, carbines and sub-machine guns. We had no intention of letting them see us. We understood that our presence might elicit some unwelcome questions from the VLA, but at this point we were just happy to be out of the rain. The clean towels and the hot stove were a bonus. Anything beyond that was just good fortune.
The most important thing was that Ciggy had been found. Altair knew where he was. But Ciggy had been wounded. He was recovering in a Red Cross field hospital. And he had asked for me! I had to go to him, although even the prospect of seeing him again, wonderful though it was going to be, filled me with a strange mingling of fear and trepidation. Did he still want me? Would he be able to function normally? Or was he going to be just another statistic of this horrible conflict? Of course I wanted to see Ciggy again, wanted to see that handsome baby face with the tight black curls and warm brown eyes. But I was apprehensive and hesitant. I couldn't forget that I had broken my promise to him. I had failed to get on that transporter. He must have thought I had changed my mind, or worse still, deceived him, that I never had any intention of escaping Verolino with him. Maybe he was disillusioned and disappointed in me because he thought I had broken my promise. Maybe he thought I had abandoned him and forgotten about him. Maybe he had assumed that I no longer wanted him, that my feelings about him were somehow different. It had been so long since we had seen each other, it was even conceivable that he too had changed his mind. Whatever he felt right now, I only hoped he wasn't going to be angry with me and that he still loved me.
* * * * * *