Chapter 5

2014;

I had a name now, an 18-year old’s identity. A high school diploma, money, and my fit young looking body. I could get a job, or a wealthy lover, and just enjoy life for as long as it lasted.

I also had an academic scholarship to Stanford university where I could take pre-med biology. I wanted to be a doctor again, it was the only way to get access to the facilities I needed to figure out what I had become. And as a working doctor with access to diagnostic equipment and so on, I’d be far more likely to be able to maintain my health when things started to go wrong.

I wasn’t desperate now; I only needed a mouthful of come once every couple of days if I wasn’t doing anything too challenging. To get another scholarship for actual medical school, I’d need to be top of my class, and I could only achieve that if I got a good dose at least once a day. And it took two days for a man to make a good dose.

What I mean is, I needed more than one provider to do what I wanted to do.

I left my high school friends and lovers behind and traveled across the country by bus to California. I was seated next to a middle aged loser who told me his miserable life story.

He worked as a janitor for an apartment block outside San Francisco. He’d been to attend his daughter’s wedding in Wichita. Rick was short and balding, I had fun flirting with him. He was amusing, quite funny. Ok, I liked him. Or maybe it was just my craving for semen, I don’t know.

“When was the last time you had an orgasm?” I asked him.

“Quite a while, how about you?” he responded.

I took his hand. “I want to suck your cock.” I told him.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I need to eat semen.” I told him, “I get cravings.”

“You’re a strange girl.” He said, “I don’t usually do it on the first date. And then there’s the age gap you know.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” I said.

He looked alarmed; “You really are 18 though, right?”

“I swear I’m legally adult.” I reassured him, looking into his brown eyes.

The bus stopped for lunch at a big rest area.

“Come on.” I said, taking his hand as I stood up.

I lead him away from the busy restaurant across to the fuel station toilet.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked nervously.

“Absolutely,” I assured him as I went into a stall and sat down on the toilet lid facing his crotch.

He stood still as I eagerly opened his pants, like a kid opening a present at Christmas. How odd; I didn’t really need it yet, but I was really looking forward to sucking this stranger’s cock. My mouth watered slightly, my groin was just a little bit wet. He could be useful to me; he ran a building. That meant he had keys, access to post boxes, hiding places, whatever.

He was hard already, his penis was 5 or 6 inches of excitement. I looked up at his face, showing him my enthusiasm with a bright smile as I fondled him for a few seconds before opening my mouth and pulling him in.

I’d changed.

I’d had sex for love, for pleasure, and when necessary, to achieve goals. During the last few years, I’d sucked off men and boys when I needed the compounds. Somehow, I’d started to associate the act with the result. Because the feeling of that warm hard penis in my mouth in a roadside toilet stall was pure pleasure.

It was similar to the way people enjoy the taste of tobacco or alcohol. It doesn’t really taste good, but people savor the flavor because they know that the substance will be intoxicating.

I gripped his ass in my hands as I worked his hard cock with my mouth, sliding it in and out eagerly. I looked up at his face; if all I wanted was the hot squirt at the end, there would be no need for eye contact. The fact was that I enjoyed the entire process, from the first meeting, flirtation, seduction, physical contact, sexual stimulation. It all lead to the reward, the substance I needed, the wonderful hot living semen that men had for me.

He throbbed in my mouth and I knew he was close, so I pulled my face away for a few seconds. I wanted it to last a little bit longer, for my own pleasure as much as his.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered.

“Yes.” I agreed, and he bent down to share a little tongue.

Well, the longer he stayed stimulated the more semen I’d get. As he kissed my mouth tenderly, I adored him. I wanted him to come in my mouth, I savored the anticipation, the increasing tension.

I went back to it, his cock tickling the back of my throat as I sucked and bobbed my head forward and back, sliding the warm stiff penis against my lips.

His eyes widened, his hands clenched around my face, and at long last his hot hard penis exploded in my mouth, streams of good fresh jizz sliding down my throat as I sucked. As usual, I watched him as he came.

Pudgy, balding, three days growth, slightly yellowed teeth. He wasn’t a handsome man, but his expression was of pure affection. He looked down at me with love in his eyes as I swallowed his seed in a toilet stall.

I could tell by the taste that he had good stuff. There was a certain twang to some semen that I associated with a stronger effect. As we headed back to the bus, I felt the effect kick in. Whatever it was that I needed, Rick’s semen was rich in it. My mind cleared and I felt that wonderful powerful tingling in my modified body.

He had what I needed; good semen and a place to hide out; as the building manager, he’d be able to create a phantom address I could use.

“MM, that was good.” I said as we climbed aboard. “So you have an apartment? Got a spare room?”

“Yes and no.” he said. “Just one room, but you’re welcome to stay if you want.”

“How far are you from Stanford?”

“Not far.”

“Ok, let’s try it out.” I said. “I’m not promising anything though.”

“Me neither.” He said.

“If you get tested for everything, we can do it bareback.” I added, “I need the semen in one end or the other.”

He looked amusingly shocked.

“Ok.” he agreed.

“I’m not a monogamous woman, but if we do this you have to be faithful to me.” I told him seriously. “I want the exclusive on your semen. I won’t have intercourse with anyone else, but I might suck off other men sometimes.”

“No, that’s not cool.” He objected, “If you want me to be true to you then you have to reciprocate.”

“Life isn’t fair Rick.” I told him. “Those are my conditions. If you can’t handle it you can always tell me to pack up and go, no worries.”

The other passengers were taking their seats and the driver started the engine.

“Do I get to watch?” he asked.

I laughed; “Sure, if it works out and you want to.”

Rick was ok. I had my own money, I didn’t need to live with him. I wanted to live with him, I liked him and I’d have a reliable supply of good jizz.

1943;

I survived the gang-bang. It seemed the pilots never admitted where they were that night; they all got shot for it anyway. I admit to some feeling of guilt about that. They were not evil, just young men who were fighting for their country. War is war though, and they did what they did.

I got pregnant from that night. I arranged an abortion that left me sterile (although I didn’t realize that until after the end of the war). It was a serious price to pay, yet quite tame compared to being tortured and executed as I’d expected.

The bordello was dead. A few girls came back but most were too traumatized, and half were sent to the camps. I felt bad about that; they were good girls.

Although we were not charged with any crime, a shakeup was ordered. Frans and I were banished, transferred to Friesland on the Dutch border; a farming backwater with no economic or strategic importance. Our orders were to round up everyone who didn’t love Hitler, and kill them.

The train track ended 10 km from the town. The area was low and flat, farms bordered by shallow drainage canals, goods were moved in small barges poled along at slow speed. There were only a few roads. The place was barely touched by the war; we were driven to the SS headquarters to take over command.

It was a large house just outside of the town. It had a security fence with gun towers at the corners. A wine cellar without any wine in it was now used as a weapons store and there were a few prison cells built in as well. We had a contingent of regular army men; mostly rejects. Frans still had his rank, even though he didn’t have his SS troops anymore. They’d all been sent to the front.

So Frans and I were the only occupants of the once busy SS headquarters, there were men in the army barracks were in town though.

My role was to look fabulous. To be the perfect Teutonic Aryan German woman, with my long legs, big breasts, and blue eyes. To dress, walk, and speak like the woman they all dreamed of making babies with. Virtuous, healthy, confident, utterly white in an evil black uniform.

I flirted with the Dutch men, they wanted me and they hated me. I teased them mercilessly, I was a German SS officer, too powerful for them to touch. I had a gun; I could shoot any non-German with impunity, and most Germans too. I didn’t actually shoot anyone, but I could have.

1943 was a terrible year. The nazis were being squeezed, getting desperate, and our orders were brutal.

There were no major military conflicts there. Very little movement of goods or troops, so even if I had someone to report to, my intelligence would have little value. I had a sort of identity crisis I suppose; if I wasn’t spying for the enemy anymore, I was just a Nazi SS officer.

Reports came in from informers and local police. The local dialect was difficult but I soon got to grips with it and was able to understand the reports. I realized our translator was being intentionally inaccurate when it came to some specifics; a very dangerous game. I pretended not to notice.

Our area was split nearly evenly between resistance and collaborators. The situation was complex, with multiple layers of bureaucracy; the German occupiers, local police, judiciary, church.

Frans decided to take a long approach, gain trust and gather information for a while. His intent was to lull the locals into a false sense of security, and then carry out our criminal orders in full, if the war lasted that long.

My strategy was to delay; it was obvious at this point that the Reich was doomed, I thought it might fall at any time. Frans should have been transferring his wealth into Swiss francs or gold. Instead he just buckled down and followed orders. I had very little money myself. Just my salary and whatever Frans doled out for extra clothing.

I was in charge of the SS office, organizing the paperwork while Frans and the army men did as they pleased. They didn’t seem to care that most of their crimes were documented at my office. I filed away the reports with German efficiency; and I was in charge of the growing hit list.

I missed the excitement of the club, I missed Mari. I’d shared her bed many times, because she seemed to need the comfort of a woman. Because she was a hero, and because I loved her. Even though I didn’t think of myself as homosexual, I enjoyed the touch of her body against mine, her excitement and pleasure as we kissed each other infected me. I hadn’t realized how much I’d loved her until we were separated.

After the war, I learned that she’d been persecuted by the locals for collaborating; when in reality, she was one of the very few in that stinking town who were not. She was beaten, humiliated, her head shaved. A terrible fate for a true hero, a woman who’d done more to defeat the nazis that almost anyone. I didn’t know where she ended up after that.

Men liked to push their organs into my body, to pollute me with their grunting clutching orgasms. A woman’s love is different; it’s clean, safe, gentle love. And yet I was still mostly attracted to men.

So was Frans.

He hid in the next room, watching and listening as I interrogated the local teenagers one by one.

Frans had insisted I wear a tight black skirt and a white blouse with a few buttons open, so the tops of my tits were exposed. My hair was down too. I was to stand close as I read out a set of prepared questions.

The boys stared up at me in fear and lust as they gave their answers. I was relieved to find that either they didn’t know anything, or were well coached in hiding it.

“Stand closer to the next one.” Frans ordered between questionings, “The effect is interesting.”

“If I get any closer my tits will press against their heads.” I complained.

“That’s the idea.” Frans laughed, “Call in the next one. This time, I want you to run your fingers through his hair.”

I didn’t like this at all; these boys were vulnerable, I wasn’t comfortable with the way Frans was using me to get information from them. I suppose that compared to the atrocities we nazis were committing, toying with the hormones of these boys was actually quite tame.

You have to realize that in the 1940’s, women did what men told them to do. Frans was my commanding officer as well as my lover. I betrayed him in secret, never to his face. If Frans told me to seduce someone, I did.

So I obeyed, running my fingers through the blond hair of the next boy we questioned, my breasts so close to his face that I could feel his breath on them. The boy stared at me wide eyed, he had no idea what was going on.

“What is that you have hidden in your pants?” Frans demanded of the boy with a straight face, “Show it to me.”

The poor kid looked terrified, and looked at me for confirmation.

“We need to check that you’re not Jewish. Stand up.” Frans ordered.

The boy stood, but then froze.

“You do it, captain Poetz.” Frans instructed, “Open him up, let’s see what we have here.”

I stood behind the kid a and circled my arms around to open his belt. He was shivering with fear and embarrassment, at the same time he still had an erection.

His trousers fell to his ankles and his stiff white penis bounced up into the cold room. Without thinking about it, I grabbed the hot stiff organ in my hand, pressing my breasts against his thin back. Frans stared at the young penis with hungry eyes; he knew he couldn’t have it.

“It’s difficult to say whether he’s circumcised while he is excited like that.” Frans noted, stepping forward. He pushed my hand away and took the boy in his own hand, stroking him a little.

The boy looked at Frans; 45, prematurely grey, a rather handsome face and deceivingly kind eyes.

I knew him now, knew him better than I wanted to. I knew that he could be kind and good sometimes, and I knew that he was also capable of unspeakable cruelty. He was a product of the regime, a willing participant and a believer. I knew this, and still couldn’t understand how his brain could separate his own desire to suck that boy’s cock with the directive to send homosexuals to the death camps.

Suddenly realizing that he was endangering himself, Frans let go and stepped back. “Fondle him, captain.” He ordered me. “Now boy, do you know what happens next?”

“No.” the poor kid gasped.

“You have never abused yourself until it squirts out?”

“No.”

“Spit on your hand captain, and do it properly.” Frans ordered me. “Now you listen to me, boy. We can make things very nice for you, or very unpleasant. Put your tongue in his ear Gisela.”

The boy shivered and tensed up. I was not happy about this at all; I had no sexual morals, but now we were using sex as a weapon for the nazis instead of against them. I confess, on one level I was enjoying myself, even though I knew this was an act of corruption.

“He’s about to come.” I said, pulling my tongue out but continuing to stroke the hot young penis.

Frans took a water glass from the desk and held it in front of the kid’s penis as the ejaculation occurred. As his spasms ended, his body relaxed almost to the point of gong limp.

“Get dressed and go home.” Frans told him, “Return at the same time next week, and you’d better have some information for us, understand?”

As the boy left, Frans looked quite pleased. “That was good.” He said, “Let’s do it to all the 15 and 16 year old boys.”

“Frans, that would be 25 boys.” I protested, “What is the objective?”

“So? It only takes a few minutes. We could do it over a few days. The objective darling, is to get them to talk. Some of them know things, that’s for sure; we just need to crack a few of them. The technique is faster than torture, leaves no marks, and they probably won’t tell anyone.”

“Know what? There’s hardly any resistance here, they’re just farmers.”

“They cut the tires of our vehicles and write subversive slogans on the walls!” Frans countered.

“They’ll tell each other, kids talk.”

“It doesn’t matter, we are in power here.” Frans said dismissively.

“Number twelve was interesting, don’t you think?” Frans asked me at the end of the day.

“Twelve; the one with the big cock?”

“Yes, that’s right. He was quite evasive, he knows more than he’s saying. I want to call him back in, and this time you seduce him.”

“I don’t have sex with children, Frans.” I protested.

“You will follow orders!” he barked angrily.

I realized he wanted to fuck the boy himself, but he’d have to settle for watching me do it. I wondered if the boy really knew anything; what if this method actually worked, and Frans overheard the boy betray his people?

Geert was very pretty, his pale clear skin and pale blue eyes slightly girlish. He had curly blond hair that puffed out around his head, and he was quite tall with a tight little ass, yet the strong arms and shoulders of a country boy.

I looked up at him from behind my desk; he stood nervously in the center of the room. I felt bad about what I was going to do; back then no one had qualms about sex with teenagers, or abuse of power issues, but we did have respect for religion. I was agnostic, most of the locals were church going believers.

I just wasn’t interested in the boy in that way; I could betray Frans in secret, and I had done so consistently during all the years we’d been together. I was more than willing to open my legs to betray the Nazis.

Frans was whoring me out for his side, and for his own pleasure. It was almost impossible for me to refuse the command from my commanding officer and lover while he was listening and watching through an installed spy lens. I proceeded reluctantly.

“Geert, I called you in because it had been alleged that you are actually a Jew.” I told the boy.

He looked terrified; “No, no it’s not true!” he blurted out.

“Relax, it’s easy to find out. The Jews mutilate the penis of their boys, did you know that? I just need to examine you again, more closely this time. Take off your clothing.”

I was afraid that Frans suspected me. There were just a few too many clues over the years; targeted air strikes, tactical failures, perfectly timed sabotage just outside our jurisdiction. It was obvious someone was feeding information to the enemy. I had the feeling my days were numbered. Then again, I always felt that way during the war.

“Off, boy!” I ordered the terrified kid, “You have nothing to fear if you’re telling the truth. Take everything off, I need to examine you fully.”

He obeyed, stripping off everything until he stood naked, his face red with shame and embarrassment and his big penis dangling between his thighs as I circled him like a predator. His body was large, lean, and strong, his skin unblemished and white except for his face and forearms.

I stood behind him and pressed my breasts into his back as my hand went around him, caressing his breasts and belly before wandering down to his big cock. I stoked him and he got hard in a few seconds, his body stiff and his breath ragged.

I’d jerked him off a few days before. This was a bit more though; now I was taking my time, stroking his naked body, teasing him and Frans with a slow sensuous touch.

He had a big one. How odd; this Frisian Dutch boy had a bigger rod than any of the generals I’d done it with, bigger than the pilots, bigger than any of the many men I’d had in my hands. Big and rock hard too. It was hot and heavy in my hands, his balls were tight and oddly small.

I realized that if I did as I was ordered and let this boy put that big penis into me, it might be quite pleasant for us both.

“Well, I can say you’re definitely not a Jew.” I told him, “Do you like this? Is it nice?”

“Yes.” he mumbled.

In my high heels I was slightly taller than he was, my lips were at his ear so I ran my tongue around it and bit the lobe lightly.

“What, what are you doing?” he whined, while doing nothing to stop me.

What could he do? I was an SS officer. I knew it was wrong, but it was war. I was a spy and a traitor, I needed to appease my superior. Anyway, the kid didn’t seem to mind too much. I held his cock in one hand while I stroked his chest, then fondled his balls. I knew Frans could see it; the strong lean boy and his big stiff penis. I stroked the beautiful youngster and I found I was starting to enjoy it. How could I not? He’d been chosen because he was gorgeous, Frans had made me jerk off 27 teenage boys to find this one.

What if it worked though? What if the boy really did reveal information while Frans was listening? This stupid little bit of fun could have deadly consequences.

“Have you been with a girl before?” I asked.

“No.” Geert admitted.

“Well, you’re very attractive, and I would like to kiss you. You don’t mind, do you?”