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    Tallguyct
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Russia - My Home - 14. Chapter 14 What Happened to Franz?

Vladek never saw his friend Franz Eberhardt again. He did not know what happened to Franz.

Franz last saw Vladek one Sunday afternoon in February 1939 when Vladek and his friend, Sergi, visited Franz unannounced. Mikhail was also there and the four men had a long erotic afternoon. Since Vladek had a sensitive position in the German section of the Ministry of Defense, Franz, a German, told Vladek they should never meet again.

Franz continued to teach at the Language Academy. His sex partner Mikhail was no longer available as he was in the Soviet Army posted in the south of Russia. Franz was tempted but would refrain from approaching any of his students so his love making was limited to his fist.

……………………………………………..

Early one morning in February 1941 Franz heard a knock on his door. The police were rounding up all Germans for resettlement in the East. Franz was told to pack one suitcase.

After time in a detention center then train ride and finally transport in the back of a truck Franz arrived at a farm in Siberia. This would be his new home. Although there were no guards he could not escape. He had no papers as they were held by the police. All able bodied men were drafted into the armed forces. A lone man wandering in Siberia would not survive.

Actually he considered himself lucky. There were about fifty workers at the farm. Other than himself all the workers were women or elderly or disabled men. There were also children. Franz decided his best course of action would be to work hard and appear to support the Soviet war effort. The manager of the farm was an elderly man who had difficulty walking. In the evening Franz talked with the old man and discovered he was nearly illiterate. The manager was required to prepare various reports and be familiar with numerous regulations. The old man was totally frustrated. Franz offered to help. He started by reading regulations to him in the evening. Then he helped the old manager prepare the reports. Within a two weeks all the paperwork was up to date and the elderly manager told the inspector who visited monthly that Franz was the most dedicated and hardworking comrade at the farm.

Franz considered himself lucky. While the work was difficult he had adequate food and a warm but uncomfortable bed to sleep in.

Two years later, 1943, when the inspector arrived for his periodic visit a disabled man who had been discharged from the army accompanied him. Ilya Filippov had been appointed the new manager. Ilya had lost a leg and had limited use of his left arm from an injury in the Battle of Stalingrad. He had worked on a farm prior to his military service. The inspector asked the elderly manager to inform Ilya of all requirements of the position. The inspector and the elderly manager sat down with Ilya in the small primitive office of the farm. He took out the report books of the farm where activity was recorded. Ilya asked questions about the operation the old man became very frustrated. Finally he admitted that he had help from ‘the German’. He told Ilya he would invite the German to help explain the farm operations.

Franz entered the office and was introduced to Ilya. Franz had seen the new manager from a distance when he and the inspector had arrived at the farm. He noted the new manger was tall and thin as were all Soviets during the war except for influential party members. Now seeing the man up close he was captivated by the man’s handsome face. His features were exaggerated with a prominent nose and large ears. His dark brown eyes penetrated Franz’s soul and the short black wavy hair pleasingly topped the classic face. When he smiled Franz had feelings throughout his body and especially in his dick that he had not had since the fateful morning he was arrested in Moscow.

When the Inspector departed the old man excused himself telling Ilya Franz could give him all the guidance he needed. Franz sat at the table facing the new manager.

“Hello comrade, my name is Franz Eberhardt. I am a German who had lived in Moscow almost ten years teaching in the Language Academy. We can share our personal histories later.”

“You appear to be exhausted and hungry. There is nothing about the operation of the farm and explanations about your responsibilities that cannot wait until tomorrow. I suggest we offer you tea and bread now while the cook prepares more substantial food. You have had a long journey and I assume little opportunity to wash yourself. I will arrange to have warm water and washing supplies. Let’s start with tea. Do you agree with my plan?”

“Thank you comrade, you are correct. I am hungry, filthy dirty and exhausted. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to have tea, wash and go to bed. I may sleep for a long time. From what the old manager told me you are capable of handling the details of the farm. I appreciate any assistance you can give me. If you do not mind, I may need help washing myself. Having lost a leg and limited use of my left arm I am unsteady when I stand. Hopefully as I gain strength I will be able to better take care of myself.”

Franz left the room and requested the farm cook to prepare tea and a plate of bread. He also requested that pans of water be warmed on the wood stove and found soap and clean rags for washing and drying (wash cloths and towels were unheard of on this farm). He returned with the tea and bread. The living accommodations of the farm workers were either small peasant one room shacks most with dirt floors and no plumbing heated by a wood stove or dormitories. One was for women and children and another for men. The manager had a bed in the small farm office. While they waited for warm water Franz found clean bedding for the manager’s bed. He then returned to the kitchen and retrieved the first pan of water.

Ilya suggested, “Put the water pan on the table. I will stay seated and wash whatever I can clean while sitting. When I stand I may need your assistance to help me keep my balance.” Sitting Ilya removed his filthy shirt. Franz was surprised to see that he was so thin that his rib bones were apparent. Ilya then removed his equally filthy pants. He had no underware. Without appearing to look Franz admired the long, thick dick. Even soft it was impressive. Ilya washed everything he could while seated from the top of his head to his dick. Franz returned from the kitchen with another pan of warm water and noticed how carefully Ilya cleaned his dick pulling the skin back and cleaning the head.

Franz returned with a third pan of water and helped Ilya stand. He then washed Ilya’s back. The young man moaned, “That feels so good,” as Franz both washed and sensually massaged the back. He then washed the ass and gently probed the rosebud. Ilya moaned again.

Franz then returned the dirty pan to the kitchen and returned with another one. Luckily the kitchen was a few steps from the manager’s office. He kneeled and washed the good leg and stump of the missing leg. His face was close to the dick. While washing the legs he gently rubbed against the low hanging balls. He was sure the dick had inflated. He restrained himself from leaning forward and kissing it.

“May I open your suitcase and take out clean clothes?”

‘You may look. I am sure there is nothing in there that is clean.”

Franz opened the suitcase and was greeted by the foul smell of the filthy clothes. It appeared that all the clothes Ilya had were one other army uniform, socks and underware all dirty. “I will have all your clothes washed. You may borrow some of mine for now.” Actually Franz only had one other shirt, pants, socks and underware but Ilya needed clean clothes now more than he did. “For now wrap yourself in this blanket.”

“I have asked the cook to boil an egg. When it is ready you may have a dinner of an egg, kefir (a healthy Eastern European liquid yogurt drink) and bread. The egg is from our farm as is the home made kefir. If you do not mind I will move my bed into this room temporarily. I am willing to assist you until you are stronger. While the food supply is limited, living on a farm we do have access to some healthy food. When you need to piss, use the piss pot there in the corner. If you need to shit we will walk to the outdoor shit house, not a pleasant walk now with snow on the ground. Sleep as long as you desire. Not much happens here at the farm during the cold Siberian winter. Do you agree with my suggestions? You are the boss comrade, you make the final decision.”

“Your suggestions make me feel like I am living the life of a Czar. Good food, clean clothes and a warm bed. This will be the first real bed I have slept in in at least three years except for my stay at the hospital where my leg was removed. Nothing about that bed was comfortable. Thank you. You truly are a friend to someone you do not know. I hope someday I may return the favors.”

Franz thought, ‘Letting me suck your dick would be a perfect payment, you sucking my dick would be priceless!’

Franz returned with the food and clean clothes. He sat with Ilya while he ate and then accompanied him to the shit house. Using crutches on the ice covered path was dangerous. When they returned to the room Franz helped Ilya into the bed and covered him.

Ilya reached for Franz’s hand and said, “Thank you my new friend.” He then shocked Franz when he pulled the hand to his lips and kissed it. It was now dark, late afternoon. An exact time would not be known as there were no clocks on the farm. Franz went to his dorm room and took his bed apart and moved it into the office. He watched his friend sleep having erotic thoughts as he thought of the perfect dick. Knowing Ilya was in a deep sleep Franz moved his chair to the side of the office out of sight from the bed. Opening his pants he pulled out his dick and had the longest and most gratifying jerkoff since leaving Moscow.

Probably about eighteen hours later, midmorning of the following day, Ilya woke up. At first he was disoriented. Then he saw Franz sitting in the corner reading a book. He remembered where he was and said, “Good morning my friend. That was the most peaceful sleep I have had in years. But now I need to piss.” He pushed the covers off and sat at the edge of the bed. His morning woodie was pushing out his underware.

Franz decided he could make funny comments to this man who had kissed his hand. “Well I see that your most important part of your body was not injured and is very healthy.”

Ilya replied, “I must be rested. That is the first morning stiffness I have had in years. All the time in the army I was too exhausted to think of such things. Now I must piss. Please hand me the pot. I will do it sitting at the edge of the bed.”

Franz took the piss pot and held it in front of Ilya as the young man shamelessly pulled out his half hard dick. Forcing it down toward the pot he discharged a strong, long stream. He then dressed and sat at the table. Franz returned from the kitchen with a boiled egg, kefir, bread and rose hip tea. (Rose hips are the fruit of rose bushes and, when fresh, can have more than 60 times as much vitamin C as one orange, an important source of nutrients in Siberia.)

Franz said, “Yesterday you joked and said I made you feel like you were living the life of a Czar. Be careful. Someone might hear such statements and accuse you of praising the Czar which could be considered as being against Stalin. You might be reported and be in serious trouble. I am your friend. Not everyone here is.”

Two days later a rested Ilya held a meeting with the workers of the farm. He explained that he had worked on a farm before going to war. When he lost his leg and partial use of his left hand at the Battle of Stalingrad the army sent him to manage this farm. He would now fight the war by providing food for the troops with the help of the comrades working at this farm. He told them he had not had much experience in managing a farm but that the now retired, elderly former manager would give him advice. He also told them that Comrade Franz Eberhardt who had assisted the prior manager with paperwork would help him. Since he could not be in the field as much as he wanted Comrade Eberhardt would be his voice when necessary. He further told them that they needed to work together and hard to win the war. He invited any comrades with questions or concerns to see him. He then asked if there were any questions or comments. They were a few and any that Ilya could not answer he had Comrade Eberhardt answer.

Franz soon realized that Ilya’s education had been limited and his ability to read and write was below that of a manager. He told Ilya, that as a teacher, he would be willing to help his friend improve his language skills. Ilya readily accepted the offer. Not only would this help him in the future since as an invalid he would need his mind more than body to succeed, but it would also increase the amount of time he would be with this interesting, handsome, intelligent and very sexy German. The thought of this was something that gave Ilya great pleasure. The only problem with education was the lack of books and paper. Since Franz had packed a few government approved books when he was removed from Moscow he could begin his lessons immediately. Soon the long Siberia nights would be replaced by short nights and long days. Until the snow melted work on the farm was limited and there was an opportunity to study. The books that Franz brought included Nikolay Ostrovsky's novel How the Steel Was Tempered and two novels by Maxim Gorky, all books supporting the Soviet government.

Franz continued to sleep in the room with Ilya. They joked about their morning stiffness. Franz got the nerve to state that when alone he took advantage of his stiffness with a jerkoff. Ilya laughed and replied that he had done the same secretly in bed before the exhaustion of the army. “Well, if you do not mind I am going to take care of myself,” Franz stated. Ilya sat up in his bed and told him he would join him. They both jerked off pretending not to watch the other while they did. Each caught the other sneaking a peek. The shot loads on the floor. Franz used his glad rag to clean up the joy juices. The next day they repeated with no attempt to conceal their interest in the other. In fact both alternated between looking in each other’s eyes, checking out the other jerking and watching their own dicks. A routine was established. Soon there was an occasional afternoon or evening jerk. If either suggested, the other always readily agreed.

One night the sobs of Ilya woke Franz. His friend was having a nightmare. “Please don’t leave me on the field to die. I am cold” Ilya whimpered. Franz got up and gently shook his friend. Ilya woke and started to cry. “At Stalingrad I was left alone on the battle field for almost two days. Germans walked past me and left me alone assuming I was dead. Being an ordinary soldier I had nothing worth stealing. My boots were almost rotted to nothing. A day later comrades from the Russian army found me and took me to a hospital where my leg was cut off to stop the infections that would seep into my body. I was very cold on the battlefield. I was alone. I was afraid. That is what I dream about every night.”

Ilya was shaking. Franz held his hand. “You are safe now. No one will hurt you.”

Ilya continued to shake and cry. He tightly held Franz’s hand. “Please do not leave me.”

“I won’t.”

“Please hold me.”

Franz got into the bed with Ilya. He pulled him close and wrapped his arms around his friend.

“Thank you. Don’t let go of me.”

Franz gladly held his friend as Ilya peacefully fell asleep.

Franz woke knowing he was someplace different. When he opened his eyes he saw Ilya’s dark brown eyes staring at him. Ilya smiled, “Thank you my friend. After you held me I had the first comfortable sleep since those two days I was abandoned on the battlefield. Every night I relive that horror. Last night I slept peacefully in your arms knowing I was safe. You are an Angel sent from God to free me of the terror of those memories.”

“And you my friend are the Angel sent to me from God. Before your arrival my life was nothing. I am a man without a country as my birth homeland is at war with my new homeland. I existed but had no pleasure and no hope for the future. Now I have your smiling face, your penetrating eyes, your handsome body and your incredible friendship. Life now has a new meaning for me.”

“While we might be each other’s ‘Angel from God’, this will be our secret since in the Soviet Union there is no God, just Stalin.” Franz then moved into Ilya and held him tighter. Ilya also held Franz tightly. Soon they were weeping in happiness together. They kissed their first kiss. It was totally spontaneous as their lips just moved toward each other. Ilya had never kissed another man. In fact he had never kissed anyone other than a close relative and that was not a kiss of passion. Franz moved his tongue into the virgin’s mouth. Ilya accepted it.

They held each other tighter. Lips to lips, chest to chest and hard dick pressed against the other’s stomach. They both began a sensual movement, hard dick pressed against hard dick separated only by bed clothes. As they moved together, first Ilya and then Franz spewed their juices of love against the other. Panting they continued to hold each other. After a sort time Franz said he would clean both of them. There was always a pan of water sitting on the wood pot bellied stove. Franz got out of their bed and pulled off his friend’s bed pants. He dipped the leg of the pants in the warm water and gently cleaned Ilya. He removed his pants and cleaned himself. He then returned to bed and snuggled next to Ilya, who he now considered as his lover. They held each other and soon were kissing, caressing and holding each other’s dicks. They both stroked the other. Franz reached down and took the cum stained pants he had left on the floor next to the bed. Soon the two lovers were again shooting their juices while passionately kissing.

Franz never slept in his own bed again. The two never wore bed clothes again.

Copyright © 2017 Tallguyct; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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What a powerful chapter. Franz like so many men of that era survived despite the deprevation of the war and all that was happening around them. Thanks for your work. Steve

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