JUNE 1720

Disoriented, head still groggy from whatever had been in what he drank earlier, in the dark, putting his hand out and feeling a curtain, fourteen-year-old Klaus drew the drapery aside and put his feet on the floor. The richness of a carpet under his bare feet told him he wasn’t in his parents’ residence above the book binding shop. Where was this? Why was he here? What was happening to him? Why was he sore “down there”?

Arms emerged from inside the curtain wall, pulling the German boy back onto the bed in the Lord’s canopied bed in his chamber high up in the castle in the Bavarian Alps. The curtains were drawn closed, making the world of Klaus and the baron only what was in the confines of the large canopy bed—and the mattress on which the baron had been taking his pleasure with the drugged boy for some time. Enfolding the boy in his arms again, fully in command, and putting Klaus on his knees, chest to silken sheets, under him, the man’s erect cock slipped inside the boy’s channel again. Always a different position, but always the baron’s hard cock in the boy’s tight passage. The lord was crowding a lot of sport into one night.

Holding the boy totally immobile, vulnerable to his penetration, the baron slowly began to move his buried shaft again: in, out, in deeper, hold, back, in, out. The boy moaned for him. The cock easily slid inside the lubricant of having been there before, more than once, during the night.

Klaus groaned from the pain of sheathing his first cock, but there was pleasure in this too, not being the first cocking of the night, being held close, kissed in the hollow of his neck, being wanted, his small body being worshipped by the baron in the castle. There had never been a thought, even with the drug, that the lord would be denied his sport. Once the baron had seen the handsome boy in the village, it was preordained that the lord would mount him and take his virginity to men from him.

The boy exclaimed at the pain of the teeth incising into his carotid artery in his throat as the thick shaft stoked him, stretched him, worked him. The pain subsided into a sensation of being one with the baron, a lightheadedness, and slight throbbing both in the anal channel and at his throat and the feeling of gliding through waves, as his hips went to a rocking motion, moving with the slow, deep thrusts of the baron’s shaft. “Ja, ja, mein Liege—Yes, yes, my lord,” Klaus whispered in surrender as he was transported to higher, mistier realms. The lad reached underneath him, grasping his own cock and stroking to the coordinated rhythm of the cock inside him and the feeding at his throat.

In his own heaven, the baron took his pleasure with his cock and fed on the boy’s rejuvenating blood through the hollowness of his fangs. The two fell into a mutually satisfying rhythm, Klaus growing more lightheaded, his imaginings more sensual, sensations he’d never had before, as the baron embraced him close, holding the boy under him, mounted on the boy’s hips, riding him high. As he moved his buried shaft in and out, in deeper, in and out, the cock grew in thickness and length from its ingestion of new life essences. The boy moaned his surrender to his newly experienced sexual pleasure, the exchange of fluids taking the pain away and allowing the pleasure to flow in, and the stretching, stretching, moving cock as the baron fucked and fed, fed and fucked.

It had been easy for the baron, a rich, handsome, perpetually looking thirty fine figure of a man. It always had been easy for the baron, for hundreds of years. He had seen Klaus when the baron was sitting in the outdoor café in the village square, sipping his brandy-laced tea. The fourteen-year-old lad was the son of the bookbinder. He was small, perfectly formed, blond, and all smiles as he scurried around here and there in the village streets, on errands for his father.

The sunny young boy had shown himself to be full of innocence and openly friendly without suspicion or reserve. The second time the baron saw the boy in the square he invited Klaus to sit with him at the cafe, drink a chocolate with the patron of the village, and chat about life of a young boy in the town in the castle’s shadow. The baron had learned that Klaus knew how to bind books as well—that he soon would be out on his own, sent to people’s houses to work on their books while his father and elder brother worked in the shop on the square. The lord talked with him about his own library up at the castle and of how some of his favorite books there needed to be rebound. Did the lad think he could do it? Would his father permit him to work in the castle? If so, he would need to live at the castle while he worked.

It was fine with the father. The father was honored. Yes, he understood that there was a lot of binding to do at the castle and this may mean that Klaus would be entering the baron’s service permanently. That was fine with the father too. Klaus was his second son. The first son would inherit the shop on the square and the business that went with it. The father had been worried about a placement for Klaus. The baron’s proposal was a godsend. The father had assumed that Klaus would have to move to another village anyway and rarely come back to the family.

In the castle, that night, the baron showed Klaus his extensive library and some sense of the task ahead for the boy—not the real task the baron had planned for the small, young beauty, the task the boy had been engaged for. All it took to move to the baron’s deeper plan was a drug in the boy’s chocolate as they talked books and their bindings. The baron stole the boy’s innocence and virginity to the cock of a man there, in the library, on a sofa, not being able to restraint himself until he could carry the lad upstairs.

Drugged into complete docility, the boy put up no defense. Klaus murmured questions the baron did not respond as he went about taking his pleasure. The baron almost wished he had mounted some semblance of a defense, though.

The boy became putty in the baron’s hands, his body completely open and vulnerable. Only his face showed the expression of confusion, slight fear, pain, and passion as the baron petted, fondled, and kissed his naked, vulnerable, beautifully supple body—and ultimately mounted, penetrated, and fucked him mercilessly and totally, fucking him with deep penetration and the vigorous strokes of a virile man in lust even the first time.

The baron quickly had the boy unwrapped and lying on the sofa. His body was perfect, beautiful, alabaster white, without blemish. The baron trembled and hummed as he worked, letting his hands glide over the flexible, resilient skin, exploring curved and crevices. The boy grimaced as fingers found and entered his rosebud of an anus and worked at opening him there. But when the baron ran his hands up between the lad’s thighs and coaxed them to part after kissing and petting him, Klaus sighed, opened his legs, and arched his back.

“Bezaubernd. Süss—Lovely. Sweet. Ich werde dich fricken—I will have you,” the baron whispered. It wasn’t a question, and Klaus did not disagree.

The baron was erect and throbbing and the boy open, vulnerable, and yielding, so little time was spent on foreplay. Stripped, the baron kissed down Klaus’s torso and across his belly. The boy yielding to him as he positioned Klaus’s legs over his shoulders, placed a pillow under the boy’s back to elevate his pelvis, took the lad’s dick in his mouth briefly, and then moved lower to kiss the boy’s rosebud and penetrate it with his tongue. Klaus was moaning and rocking his hips gently, as the baron lay on top of him on the sofa, gently raised and moved the boy’s knees to hang on his hips, and slid his own knees to where he lay between the boy’s thighs and his cock head was in position.

Handing his erect cock, the baron held his cock bulb to the boy’s slowly dilating entrance and resolutely penetrated him. The drugged boy writhed a bit, panted, and cried as the baron slowly pushed inside him, stretching the boy’s virginal passage, the boy’s eyes wide with pain, surprise, and confusion. Klaus managed to whisper, “Bitte, bitte—Please, please,” but the baron interpreted that to mean what he wished it to mean and proceeded to take his pleasure of the virginal boy.

There was no resistance. Once saddled, the baron started to move his shaft, in and out, in and out, and after initial sobs and heavy panting, Klaus settled down to accepting the invasion and getting some pleasure amid the pain of this alien invasion. The exchange of body fluids in the baron’s kisses imbued the lad with an essence particular to what the baron was that overcast the pain of the act with the prey’s euphoria and pleasure. Even though he wasn’t totally unconscious and he had a sense of what was happening and certainly experienced much of the pain and a little of the pleasure of it, Klaus never once thought to question the baron’s right to take whatever he wanted from him. The baron didn’t question this either. He felt his entitlement and took his pleasures as he wished.

The stroking of the cock increased in intensity and depth. The baron held the boy tightly and moved into taking his pleasure with thrusts as powerful and deep as if he was using one of the whores in the village brothel rather than stealing a boy’s virginity from him. The baron lost all control and regard for the boy’s moans and sobs and took him totally, even that first time.

Klaus was a lovely, perfectly formed boy of fourteen. The baron took his pleasures of the boy as he wished as by right of his patronage of the village in the shadow of the castle. Even if Klaus had been fully alert and resistant, he would have been as fucked as he was as a yielding boy, and neither he nor anyone else in the village at the foot of the castle would question the lord’s right to take what he wanted.

The baron became careful near the end, reining himself back, savoring his first time with the boy. He did not feed this time, this first deflowering of the youth. Feeding engorged him to gigantic proportions and that would be dangerous for this first taking of the boy. He held his appetites in obeyance and just enjoyed Klaus with his cock, giving the boy his first anal fuck, while Klaus, entering a new world, moved in awe of the experience under him. Arching his head back, digging his heels into the cushion of the sofa as best he could in his drugged state, and sacrificially jutting his pelvis up into the baron’s groin, Klaus’s eyes flashed and his mouth opened to a yawning, silent scream, whispering “Ja, ja, ja,” as tensing and jerking, straining, and jerking, the baron released, with the boy experiencing the first flow of warm cum deep in his core. The warm cum flowed and flowed. The baron was ever young, supremely virile, fully loaded, and it would be a sensation of pleasure Klaus would be experiencing over and over throughout the night.

Finished with the first taking, the baron gathered the boy up in his arms and took him upstairs to the baron’s chamber near the top of the castle for a night of pleasure—the baron’s pleasure. He would be careful with this one. The beautiful fourteen-year-old blond boy was a keeper. A keeper into eternity. If the baron could not die, we would not suffer this state alone.

JUNE 1820

“He’s late. Get me a boy! A fresh boy. I must feed on high-quality essence.”

Gerhard Baron’s exclamation was so belabored that Klaus knew he couldn’t wait longer for the cabin attendant to arrive. He left the first-class cabin on the “SS Olympus” passenger liner only hours after it cleared the Strait of Gibraltar, leaving the Mediterranean, on its sail from Rome to New York, and walked the decks, looking for a suitable boy. A fourteen-year-old would be ideal for the purpose. Klaus himself was still a fourteen-year-old boy, his eternal condition thanks to his service to the Baron, who also didn’t age beyond thirty.

He figured Baron’s need could not be met from the first- or second-class passenger list, as hiding what transpired would be difficult. What his master was calling for was not a boy who was likely to survive this, if surviving as a perpetual fourteen-year-old as Klaus had done for a century could be considered desirable. But there was the steerage class, a mass of people below decks who were emigrating to the United States from Italy and other Mediterranean countries. There was always a chance there of a boy being lost and not particularly missed—not enough for anyone of authority to care.

With his first-class badge, Klaus would be able to go down into the bowels of the ship as he pleased and return without challenge by the ship’s crew. Some of the men passengers, especially the second-class ones, went down there for their sport. The voyage would be long, men’s needs were short term, and those in the hull needed money. The problem would be in getting a boy up into first class and then back down again, as needed. Klaus had already explored the ship extensively and he knew the safest routes around where the ship’s officers roamed, looking for passengers out of class. He took a shirt and pair of trousers of his that were of expensive cut and Baron’s first-class badge and went on the hunt.

He got down to steerage without trouble and went shopping, checking out all of the likely boys, looking for ones not firmly within their family’s bosom, and concentrating on boys fourteen or not much older—small, fair of face and perfect of body boys. As he appeared to be fourteen himself, no one was meeting him with suspicion. He was such a handsome, blond boy himself, with a sunny, open disposition, that he had no trouble engaging and talking with people and learning of their connections and their possible interests and independence. He was looking for a boy such as himself, who attracted others easily and brought smiles to their faces.

It was not long before he came to a beautiful young, dark-haired, olive-skinned youth sitting in a crowded corridor beside a closed door and looking despondent. He could hear a clamor of women’s voices from beyond the closed door. The youth seemed to be tuned to them as well. The boy brightened a bit, though, when he saw Klaus approaching. Klaus recognized a look that was more than friendly at the base and instantly discerned an interest from the boy that matched the need Klaus was hunting for. He crouched down beside the boy.

“What’s the concern?” he asked. “What’s going on this cabin that seems to have you concerned? My name is Klaus, by the way.”

“I’m Angelo,” the boy answered. Ah, an angel, Klaus thought. Just the thing. The baron loved debauching angels. “I think my aunt may be dying in there,” he said, responding to Klaus’s question, misconstruing—purposely from Klaus’s perspective—what the nature of Klaus’s concern was.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. What is the problem?”

“She is very ill. They don’t know if she can survive or not.”

“Are your parents in there with her?”

“My parents are in Italy. They are sending me to America with her. Her husband is already there. My parents want me to have a new life in America.”

“So, you are alone on the ship with your aunt?”

“Yes.”

“Your parents must think your life will be much better in America than here.” He put a hand on Angelo’s knee and he felt the youth trembling. “You are such a handsome young boy. Did they have a special reason to send you away?” His master’s need was acute, Klaus didn’t have much time to find him a boy. He had a notion what the issue here and the boy’s proclivities were. He would check that out quickly and, if wrong, move on in his search. “Was it a man?”

“One of my uncles in Naples, yes,” Angelo admitted, lowering his eyes, his long, dark eyelashes fluttering. “He is very powerful and takes what he wants.”

“And he wanted you?” Angelo didn’t respond immediately. “And you find him attractive? It isn’t just that he wants you?”

“You understand,” Angelo said. “My parents did not. My uncle is a very handsome and rich man.”

“And did this man, this uncle—?”

“No. My parents intervened and sent me to my aunt.”

“Why don’t you come with a walk with me? You can’t be of any help here. Come with me and I will take you where you can have a beer.”

“They don’t serve beer here.”

“They do where I come from on the ship, and if you put these clothes on and take this badge to show if anyone stops us—but don’t give them a close look at it, please—we’ll be fine. Come up to the top decks with me. There is fresh air, and space, and beer there.”

They got back in the first-class area without trouble. Klaus stopped at a bar on the way up and got two steins of beer, having Angelo wait on the deck outside. Before going back to him, Klaus drugged the boy’s beer.

By the time they made it back to Baron’s cabin, Angelo was a bit groggy. By the time he was on Baron’s bed, and the man was undressing and petting him, he was totally manageable and open and vulnerable to everything Baron did with him. It wasn’t that he’d ever done this before or that he would be so easily handled if he wasn’t drugged, but Klaus could discern that the boy had thought favorable fantasies of being in this position, and his defenses were all down. Klaus went back on deck and sat in one of the lounge chairs outside the door to Baron’s cabin, while, inside the cabin, the man fucked and fed on the fourteen-year-old Italian boy.

After a bit of fondling and petting of the perfectly formed and sexy small Italian boy, Baron moved on top of him with the boy on his back and his arms going straight from his body and clutching the edges of the bunk. Baron had coaxed the boy’s legs open and bent, Angelo’s feet flat on the bed. Baron’s need was great, so he took little time getting inside the boy. He put an arm under the boy’s back, raising his pelvis to Baron’s need. The boy was a virgin and would have cried out in pain and violation, if Baron didn’t have the boy’s underpants stuffed in his mouth, so it took some time for the man to be fully saddled, but the enjoyment to Baron in doing that, enjoying the yielding suffering of the boy, paused his need to feed.

Angel sobbed, panted hard, and groaned as Baron penetrated him, but the Italian boy offered no resistance other than muffled objections that soon subsided into moans and groans, and, ultimately, to the boy moving his hips into the rhythm of the taking.

“Entspannen Und offen—Relax and open to it,” Baron murmured and when German seemed to have no effect, he tried it in Italian. “Rilassati e apriti ad esso.” This got through to Angelo and slowly, panting, the boy let the tension drain out of him. And slowly Baron’s cock sank into him and stretched the boy’s channel walls. Once he was buried inside the boy and was slow pumping him, Baron freed the boy’s mouth of its gag, wanting to hear the boy respond to his deflowering, and the sounds from the boy turned into moans and whispers of “Per favore, per favore. Sì, sì.—Please, please ... yes, yes.” When he dug his hands into Baron’s buttocks, holding him close, and began rowing his hips in rhythm with the man’s thrusts, it was evident that he was content to give his anal virginity up to this magnificently muscular and virile young man on top of him.

Once he knew he had the boy fully under his control and responding to his cocking, Baron leaned down to him, licked the boy’s throat, and sank his teeth into the throbbing artery he found there. Angelo gave a little exclamation of surprise and pain as the teeth sliced into his carotid artery, but he settled down to the rhythm of the fuck and the feeding quickly and without resistance. His eyes opened wide, and his mouth was in a yawn, though, as he felt Baron’s shaft inside him expanding in length and thickness, stretching the boy’s channel to the limit as the infusion of blood rejuvenated the man. To compensate the special essence that the man returned to the boy helped passion and pleasure overcome fear and pain in the boy. The two moved as one, the younger part of the body transferring the elixir of life to the older.

Outside the cabin, Klaus watched the approach of the cabin attendant, a young, fine-looking, dusky-skinned Moroccan boy, who was shuffling along as in a trance but with a sloppy grin on his face. He was carrying the change in bedding and bath towels that he would have delivered hours earlier if his life had not become zombie like. He smiled languidly at Klaus and entered the cabin. Klaus, who had been sitting on deck outside the cabin, regretted having brought Angelo to Gerhard Baron. He had instantly liked the boy. He would have liked to have time to be with him himself. His greatest concern was that he didn’t know how far Baron would go with the boy.

Klaus let the Moroccan attendant enter the cabin and waited fifteen minutes before going in to check what was happening in there. The attendant hadn’t come back out.