WARNING: This story contains sexually explicit parts involving sex between minors and adults. Do not read the contents if it will offend you. If accessing this story causes you to break local laws (village, town, city, county, province, state, or country, etc.), please leave now.

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The Angel of Pie Jesu.

By John T. S. Teller.

Book one – Star in the Hood.

Part 32.

Gretel.

I'm late getting up, and it's now eight o'clock. Aleric and Gareth are both fast asleep on the sofa that I extended out for them while they were out. It must have been very late when they went to sleep, because the fire is still glowing a bright amber. At least they had the sense to put the guard up. I remove it, quietly place two more logs on the embers, and very soon the room is illuminated by the flickering flames. My main task now is to keep unwelcome visitors away from them.

Ralf won't be a problem. He can't get down unless we bring him down. Anyway, he's fast asleep and won't wake until about nine... if that considering the drink he had, and what we did afterwards. That had been wonderful. Wave after wave of pure sexual delight. We haven't had it that good for a while. It was because of the drink. Ralf had had just enough to take the edge off his feelings, but not too much that he didn't have a stiffie for a long time. I used him last night.

I can see them clearly now. Gareth is on his back and Aleric is wrapped around him, and I'm pretty sure they're both naked. They look like angels. I chuckle. That they most certainly are not! Well, Aleric isn't. Poor Gareth. I bet he's worn out completely. My little monkey has given him some severe grief this last twenty four hours and more, and that's not counting what Aleric will have made him do to make up.

Aleric. He's gorgeous when he's asleep. He always has been since he was a baby. Gottwin's the same. I never tire of looking at them when they're asleep. They both have eyelashes as long as their father's. The same cute nose as him, too. But they've both got my sexy lips. Right now, Aleric's are partly open and puckered. Gareth will have found comfort in them. I do. They touch my spirit every time we kiss. Oh God! How I love my men! There's nothing I wouldn't do to make them happy.

Gareth. He's a really handsome man. I'd like to go to bed with him and have that divine designer stubble rubbing on my naked skin. Aleric doesn't know he's born. If he'd searched the Seven Seas, he couldn't have come up with a better catch. I wouldn't swap my Ralf for a King's Ransom, but for a Mark more, I would have chosen Gareth. Aleric must be in heaven when Gareth is loving his body. But Gareth is lucky, too. My boy is special. I know every square centimetre of him; every gorgeous blemish; every trait that makes him what he is. I bet when they're making love, Aleric makes Gareth laugh. He's an amusing little devil, and like me, he'll take amusement into the bedroom with him. Yes, Gareth, my boy is a super little catch.

"They're beautiful," a voice whispers.

I jump with fright at the voice by my shoulder. I turn and see Kurt in his dressing gown, standing by my side, and I say in a whisper, "You monkey! You frightened the life out of me! I didn't hear you come down!"

Kurt grins. "I'm sorry. I was very quiet so as not to wake anyone. I didn't know you were here."

I've recovered now, and I smile at him. "I made the fire up. Why did you come down so early?"

Kurt smiles. "For the same reason you did, I think. I wanted to look at them."

I put my finger to my lips, and whisper, "Well, that's fine, but let's keep it very quiet. I don't want to wake them."

Kurt nods. "As I said, they're beautiful. I wanted to see them asleep together. Like this. I love them both."

Kurt's words make my eyes misty. I look at him. "You love Gareth?"

Kurt has tears in his eyes now. He nods. "Since the first time I set eyes on him. I always will until the day I die."

I ask, "Does it make you jealous seeing them like this?"

Kurt shakes his head. "No, it makes me happy. But that doesn't mean I don't wish I was in Aleric's place right now."

I giggle. "I know what you mean."

Kurt puts his hand to his mouth to stop his chuckle being heard. "You naughty girl!"

I take Kurt's hand. "Come on... let's get out of here before we wake them up." We go to the kitchen, and I quietly close the door. "Coffee?"

Kurt nods. "Yes please. Cream. No sugar."

I grin at him. "You're sweet enough."

He flips his hair back in a womanly way. "Thank you, darling. It's nice to be appreciated."

I giggle. "And you're incorrigible!"

"I know. We ladies do have our special traits."

Kurt sits at the scrubbed pine table while I make coffee, and I'm thinking how life has changed since Gareth came into our lives; even to the point that I've got a man who should have been a woman sitting in my kitchen. And to think that I often thought life in Wieck was boring. Not now it isn't. Gareth has been like a hurricane blowing into our lives. I place the coffees on the table, and sit next to Kurt. "Tell me more about you and Gareth."

Kurt takes a sip of his drink, and looks at me. "I met him in a jazz club about ten years ago. It was a sort of gay evening."

"What was he doing in a jazz club on a gay evening?"

Kurt giggles. "I think his subconscious took him there. He's a strange man. He didn't have a clue he was gay until he met..."

Kurt stops at `met', and I ask, "Met who?"

He points to the door. "Little monkey in there."

I'm amazed at what he's said, and I ask, "You mean to tell me that Aleric is the first?"

Kurt nods. "And the last. That's how he's made. No Aleric... no gay Gareth. He needed someone special to open the door before he discovered himself. Aleric is probably the only person on earth who had the key to the door. I've never witnessed anything like it in my life. He took one look at your boy, and burst into tears. The big tough guy who eats most men for breakfast was knocked head over heels by a little boy. Even I didn't understand him before that night. I've wanted to get him in bed since the moment I saw him, but after that night, I realised how much of my time I'd been wasting." Kurt is serious when he looks at me. "You do know your boy is gay, don't you? Well, let me rephrase that, I'm sure he's part gay, and may be wholly gay."

Kurt's words hit me hard, not because they surprise me, but because he's only confirming what I know. I nod. "Yes. That's why they're in there now. If my boy didn't want Gareth's advances, Gareth wouldn't have had a chance. I've known for a while what they mean to each other."

"Does it bother you?"

"Yes and no. But if they continue their association, they'll have to do it away from here. The folk round here are too prudish for that sort of stuff."

"And you're not?"

"He's my boy. If he is that way, I don't think it's choice that makes him that way. Do you?"

"No. Some people like to make any excuse and find any reason to determine homosexuality, and that includes having a bad mother. I think you've blasted that old wife's tale into the long grass, don't you? Does Ralf know?"

I shake my head. "No, and I'm not going to tell him. He never sees what's staring him in the face. He only sees what he wants to see."

Kurt gives me a half-smile. Then he places his hand over mine. "You're right. By the way, where does Herr Biermaier live? I need to call on him later today before we go back. I've got to pass on a message and a gift from the owner of the Schiller Theatre."

"I've got his address. I'll give it to you later. Another coffee?"

Kurt nods. "Yes please."

We talk for quite a while, some of it about the boys and the trio and the meeting they're having with the singing tutor, and about the boys' decision not to go back to the choir. I'm surprised at that, but as Kurt said, if they're to make a career together, they need to concentrate wholly on just that and not be at the beck and call of the requirements of the choir; and now Hans is a permanent resident with him and Heindrich in Berlin, it wouldn't be practical either. And then at eight thirty, I say, "I'm going to have to wake them. Gareth at least. We have to keep some semblance of respectability."

Kurt giggles. "Would you like me to do it?"

I smile at him. "No. I want to see the gorgeous creatures wake up. You go and use the bathroom before it becomes crowded."

Kurt laughs. "Spoilsport!"

I lean over and shake Gareth. He wakes and tries to get his bearings. I crook a finger at him, and put another to my lips. "Shhh. Time to get up. You can let Sleeping Beauty lie in."

Gareth grins through his weary eyes. He nods. I turn away and go to the kitchen while he dresses. It's not long before he comes into the room, rubbing his chin and brushing his hair. He grins at me. "Can I have a coffee, please?"

I turn and go to make him one, and say, "Did you sort everything?"

His voice is nasal when he says, "Yes. Thank's Gretel. But I'm knackered."

I snigger. "I'm not surprised."

Gareth humphs at me. "Don't be so disgusting! I've only had four hours sleep in a bed in the last forty eight hours. We slept on the floor most of yesterday. It was bloody uncomfortable. I'm becoming an itinerant since I met that young rogue of yours. Eight hours on the floor, and now four or five hours on a sofa. I'll be on the park benches next."

I laugh. "You'll survive. We'll leave `young rogue' on the sofa, shall we?"

Gareth grins. "I think so. At least I get some peace when he's asleep. The only time. How are you?"

"I'm fine. I had a good talk with Kurt this morning."

"And?"

"He told me a lot about you."

Gareth half laughs. "All bad, I suppose."

I place his cup of coffee on the table, and sit opposite him. We look into each other's eyes. I grin at him. "Not one word of badness. I'm just puzzled how my boys are going to cope with having lessons in Berlin."

Gareth takes a sip of his coffee. "I'm glad you brought that up. Unless you and all your family are prepared to uproot and go and live in Berlin, it's going to be difficult."

"Ralf wouldn't do that."

"I don't blame him. Neither would I. This is your home. It's beautiful here. Ralf needs to be near the sea when he's sorted things with our partnership. No, that's not an option. The only thing I can think of is for your boys to travel down at weekends. I'll get a limo to fetch them and bring them back. They can travel down Friday, and spend the weekend doing their stuff. If it comes off and they need to spend more time together, then we'll have to be prepared to make sacrifices. I can hire a professional tutor to make sure they're not missing out on their education. It will be a case of juggling them about. There'll be times when I won't be in Berlin. That's the problem. If Ralf was well, it wouldn't be. You could go to Berlin with them and stay in my apartment, but they might have to stay with Kurt and Heindrich when I'm away. How do you feel about things?"

I stare at the handsome man opposite me, and I'm impressed. "You've thought about most things. I think the travelling down at weekends would be best. Maybe I can get Gunther to look after Ralf on the odd occasion when you're away, and I go down with the boys."

Gareth's face is serious now. "That's the problem, Gretel. My being away is not an `odd occasion'. I have to travel extensively in my business."

"That's why you and Aleric had such a big row?"

Gareth nods. "Yes. But he'll have to get used to it. I've already cancelled a few trips during the time we've got to know one another, but it can't go on indefinitely. At some point, we both have to face reality, and that reality is that we'll be spending not a lot of time together." Gareth looks pensively at his cup, and adds, "Besides, it's not healthy for a young boy to spend all his time with an adult. He needs to grow up in the company of his peers and his proper family."

I reach a hand across the table. Gareth looks at me, smiles, and grasps it. I smile at him. "You're right about everything. But stop worrying so much. He was away for a couple of weeks at a time when he was in the choir. We'll sort things between us."

"What will you be sorting?"

I turn, see Aleric at the door, hold out a hand, and he comes to me and kisses me. I look into his beautiful, sleepy eyes. "Me and Gareth are trying to sort out what's best for you."

Aleric shrugs his shoulders. "Oh that. It's already sorted. I'll just do what you both think is best for me, but when Gareth is home, I want to spend as much time with him as I can." He kisses me again, and then looks into my eyes. "Do you mind if I sit with Gareth for a bit, mum?"

I smile at him. "No. I'm going to have to get used to sharing you now."

Aleric walks round the table, roughly pulls Gareth's arm away from the table, sits in his lap, pulls the arm around him, and sinks into Gareth. Then he lifts his head and looks into Gareth's face. "You sleep like a rough-house bear, but I suppose I'll have to get used to it."

Gareth giggles, hugs Aleric to him, kisses his hair, and says, "I'm afraid so."

Aleric smiles at me. "Can I have a coffee mum, please?"

I'm almost in tears when I get up and go to make it. I pretend not to look at them, but I don't miss Aleric turning his head up to Gareth as he strokes his face, and smiling as they look into each other's eyes. But for some reason, the act isn't disturbing. Despite the difference in their ages, these two were made for each other.

When I've made the coffee, I say, "I'll go and sort things. You two behave yourselves!" Aleric giggles. I shake my head at him. "Behave, you naughty boy!"

Gareth tries to stifle his giggles, and hides his head behind Aleric's. I point a finger at him. "That includes you!"

Through his laughter, Gareth says, "Yes mum."

I go out of the room and leave them to it.

Aleric.

When mum has gone, I grab Gareth's head and give him a really big kiss. He slips his hand to my groin and fondles my pinkler, which, immediately, becomes hard. I push it away, and giggle. "You've already let the New Year in."

      Gareth chuckles. "I know, and it was lovely. But I was thinking about your birthday. It won't be long now."

      I grin at him. "Twelfth of this month. I'm fourteen then. A big gay boy."

      Gareth kisses me, and asks, "What do you want for your birthday?"

      I stare into the eyes of my Beautiful Man. "A promise from my big gay man."

      Gareth stares into my eyes. "Done. What do you want?"

      "You. No matter where you are in the world, I want you to come home and be with me when the clock strikes midnight on the eleventh. Then I want to spend all night in bed with you, and I want us to do all the things we like doing. Promise?"

        Gareth nods. "If it costs me everything I have, I'll be there for my Star in the Hood, my Angel of Pie Jesu."

      I kiss Gareth's nose. "And your Star in the Hood, the Angel of Pie Jesu, will be waiting for you. Invent a high speed dildo for me while you're away."

      Gareth laughs. "No snippers?"

      I laugh. "No. I don't need them now. I never did. You were just playing hard to get."

Kurt.

I'm alone when I knock on the door of the big old house. When Biermaier opens it and sees me, he's puzzled. I smile at him, and say, "May I come in?"

      Although he's still puzzled, he stands back, beckons me in, and leads me to the large living room. I'm already familiar with it... Aleric described it perfectly when he was telling me about the things Biermaier had done to him and Hans, and I have to admit to myself that it's a nice place for a paedophile to have his way with boys. It's a man's room; a place where even I feel slightly uncomfortable, and a place where a small boy would feel even less inclined to put up resistance. In fact, Biermaier is the type of man who it would be difficult to resist. He has a deep voice; a large girth, is a big man, and he wears a natural air of superiority on him. He points to a chair. "Sit down, Kurt. This is a surprise. What can I do for you?"

      I don't bother sitting in the chair he proffered; instead, I wander around the room looking at the pictures of the choirboys he has everywhere. Then I ask, "Who was your favourite?"

      "My favourite?"

      I still don't look at him. "Yes... your favourite. Your all-time best boy."

      Biermaier goes to one of the older photographs, points to a boy of about twelve, and says, "Max. He had a voice like an angel."

      I take a closer look at the boy. He does look like an angel: blond hair; blue, piercing eyes; a slim figure; very desirable, and I say, "Yes, he is exceptionally beautiful. By the way, Hans Drescher won't be coming back to your choir. Neither will Aleric Hahn."

      Biermaier's deep voice betrays his fears when he asks, "Why?"

      I look him straight in the face. "Because I'm adopting Hans and he's going to live in Berlin with me, and Aleric has had enough of your abuse."

      "M-m-m-my abuse?"

      "Yes. Put simply, you've sexually abused Hans and Aleric, and they're being taken away from you."

      "That's rubbish! I've never touched either of..."

      I interrupt him by putting my hand up and staring him right in the eyes, and there's no ambiguity about what mine are saying as I growl, "Don't you dare deny it! I know everything, and so does someone else, and I can guarantee that that someone else will have you in a pine box or in prison unless you do exactly as I tell you."

      Biermaier falters, and then sits with his head in his hands in the chair he proffered me; breathing with difficulty. I decide not to prolong the agony. "I'm a man of the world, and I was once a boy of the world. I was fortunate. My tutor was a kind and gentle man... something you are not. You're a sadist, and you harm boys in a physical way with implements that are not suitable for children, as well as that damned thing between your legs, which definitely isn't suitable for a child!"

      Biermaier is in tears now, sobbing in fear more than anything, and when he looks up at me, he manages to mumble, "I won't touch them again. I promise I won't."

      I point an angry finger at him. "No you won't! Never! You're retired from the choir as of this moment, and you have twenty eight days to get out of Germany, and you're not to come back again! And make sure you never, ever, go anywhere near Hans or Aleric again! Do I make myself clear?"

      Biermaier is puzzled now. "You mean you're not going to the police?"

      "No. Not at the moment. But if you break the rules - and I promise you that I will find out if you do - you can say goodbye to your freedom! Hans and Aleric are beginning a new life now... they're forming a trio with Aleric's brother, Gottwin. If they become well known, you'll never try to get in on the act. You won't even talk about them. Think about it! If any one of the boys you've abused had reported you, others would have come out of the woodwork and it would all be over for you. So, what's your answer?"

      Biermaier is really blubbering now. "I'm sorry, Kurt. I..."

      "I don't want to know! Just remember what I told you!"

When I slam the outer door of Biermaier's house and get in the car, I'm sure our boys are safe. But I also know that Biermaier won't be able to help himself, and one day, wherever he is, he'll repeat the abuse.

Herr Biermaier.

When the door slams shut, I sit with my head in my hands, shaking like a leaf. I knew this would happen one day, but I never expected it to be like this. I thought that it would be a swift and final blow that would see me in prison for years; the price one pays for being a paedophile. I can't help what I am, no more than I can stop breathing. I love music, but from an early age it's always been a passport to gaining access to boys. I've had so many over the years; so many that I've lost count. He asked who was my favourite. I told him a lie. Max isn't my favourite: Hansie is. I'm in love with my Little Gay Boy. All my life I've searched for that Special One, and now I've found him, he's been taken away from me. Hansie is the perfect sexual partner for any paedophile. The little man adores what I do to him, and he's the only one who has ever really ravished my body. Another six months and he would have become the dream partner, and maybe six months after that he would have been living with me. I'd planned it all. But now all my plans are shattered, and, somehow, I've got to get away from all this. I need a drink; a large one.

      My hands are shaking as I lift the bottle to my lips and take a large slug of the Schnapps. Then another. Then another. That's better. I've stopped shaking. I can think now. But I don't want to think. When I do, I keep thinking of the sweet, beautiful, small boy I've just lost and who has stolen my heart. I need him!

The film is perfect quality. It should be. I'd planned it all well before the last night Hansie spent with me. Two cameras; one in the lounge and one in the bedroom, and Hans didn't have a clue that I filmed everything, just as Aleric and Hans didn't know I filmed them every time they came here. Aleric was fantastic, but I always sensed he would be trouble. He has that fiery streak in him. Not like my little Hansie who was so accommodating.

      While I'm watching part one – the scene taken in the lounge – I strip naked and fondle my huge erection; almost spurting my stuff as I watch my boy's delightful lips sucking me off. But part two is the one that I've watched every day since then. In the bedroom.

      The sleeping tablet worked a treat, and I watch his eyes closing. He's like a rag doll as I roll his legs onto his chest and fuck him; his little, soft, succulent body jerking as I go right inside him. Then I stop and feel at his tummy to see how far I'm inside him. Past his navel; very probably poking his diaphragm. I've been in him so many times that his lower bowel is stretched. That's what caused the bleeding. He must have ruptured when I gave those few final thrusts and filled him with my spunk, because when my mighty weapon emerges, it's covered in blood, and the spunk that flows from him is also streaked red. Oh my God! What a fantastic sight! Oh yeeeeesssss! Oh yeeeeeeessss!

I'll sell the house and move away. I can say I'm retiring from the choir on health grounds. Stress. Yes, nobody can detect whether I have stress or not. But where to? Kurt Beyersdorf said I was to leave the country. I'll move down south, maybe to France or Italy. I'll change my name and start again. But I won't forget Hansie. No way, and I know that if ever we meet again, he won't be able to resist me. Of that, I'm absolutely certain.     

Raul Garcia Ramirez.

I'm exhausted: completely and utterly spent as I sit on my haunches on the floor staring at the canvas. I've always been aware that I was destined for greatness, but never in my wildest dreams did I think I was capable of such genius. I look down at the variegated oiled hands that don't belong to me. I am the reincarnation of Someone. I look back at the painting, at The Boy in all His fabulous, sexual, loving glory, He is finished. I love Him. I belong to Him. I have been since He looked down into my eyes and gave His sexual essence to The Spirit that resides within me.

Who's soul is this within me? It's not the one I was born with. That left me on that memorable day back in my home village of Velilla de San Esteban when I was six years old and I sat on the high ridge looking down at the village and at the patchwork fields below me, and onto the high mountains beyond them. It was tangible to feel The Spirit enter me; to understand even at that early age that I was a different person. I cried because I didn't understand, and then I went home and began to paint. My parents couldn't believe what was happening to me. They began to think I was crazy; possessed by an evil spirit. But I knew The Spirit wasn't evil. It just needed my body as a tool to paint, and after a while I stopped fighting it and gave it free reign. I was known as El muchacho loco de Velilla de San Esteban – The Mad Boy of Velilla de San Esteban. And that's how I grew up, refusing to work in the fields, until I was sixteen that is, and then I left them all behind. And I began to search. What for, I had no idea, until my travels brought me to Berlin twenty years later. Then I met Gareth Rhys-Jones and I knew he was part of what The Spirit was seeking. There was an aura about him when I was in his presence, and it was when Gareth took me under his wing that a happiness within me began to blossom into works that The Spirit needed to create. Even then The Spirit was still restless. That is until my He came into my house. I knew it the moment I laid eyes on Him. I felt it when I saw His photographs, but I only knew it for sure when He was in my presence; alive and touchable. When I first touched His soft, delicate skin, The Spirit was ecstatic within me, sending waves of unnatural emotions surging through every part of the body that carried it. At last it had found what it had been seeking, and The Spirit drove me on to recreate His immense beauty: reincarnating Itself! That's what it was all about.

But now my task in life is completed, and I help Dominik load the cardboard wrapped canvas into his van, and when he's gone, I return to the house to prepare. A quadruple dose will do the trick, and my hands are not even shaking when I shoot the dope into my vein.

Brown and green the eyes that stare down at me; pearl pink the skin so tender to the touch; the phallus beckons to my soul, and never was a death more beautiful as I taste the sweetness of His spirit.

To be continued...

You can find my other stories on Nifty here. If you wish to comment on this or any of my other stories, just drop me a line to john.thestoryteller@gmail.com Genuine comments will be appreciated. All flames will be extinguished in the trash bin.