NR-120 Pick Up Boy
Pick Up Boy
Neptune Reader
(same as Shangri-La 212, A Boy for Hire, Male Brothel, CC-185, The Cruiser, A Boy Body for Sale)
NR-120
Robert O. Graves
$1.95
Excerpt
He was too young to understand that his country was being overrun by foreign troops, although he had heard his parents discussing what they should do. For a brief period he was interned in a concentration camp inside Poland, and then transported to Germany where he was put to work on a farm. He was made to do a man’s job, in return for which he was given enough food to stay alive.
The farmer was a bullying, sadistic man who was annoyed at having a boy prisoner-of-war sent to work on his farm. He enjoyed making Danny work until he was ready to drop. His wife had been kind but ineffectual in the presence of her husband. Occasionally she managed to sneak Danny more food when her husband was out of the house, but not very often. The couple had a son, a 17-year old blond giant who had inherited all of his father’s sadistic bullying characteristics. When his father wasn’t around he took pleasure in ordering Danny about, watching the boy struggle with tasks that were almost beyond his physical capability.
And then one night when he had gone to sleep in the hay loft, which was where he always slept, he awoke to hear someone coming up the ladder. He saw the blond head of the farmer’s son on the skyline through the opening, his blue-green eyes shining into the dark loft like a cat. Quickly he located Danny who was lying in the straw for warmth, dressed in the ragged clothes he worked in during the day.
Without saying a word the youth had dragged Danny clear of the straw, and lain down on top of him, his heavy muscled body knocking the breath out of him. He was wearing thin khaki trousers and Danny could feel the hard stick of his sex pressing into his stomach. He had remembered the Russian soldiers, and with a quick twist of his lithe young body and flung the heavier boy off him.
As he scrambled to his feet, however, the farmer’s son had leaned forward and given him a swinging blow on the side of the head. With a cry he had fallen back onto the straw, half dazed, and while he was lying there the ragged trousers had been dragged off his inert body. Swiftly he was turned over onto his face, and again he felt the pain he had experienced at the hands of the Russians, as this blond sadistic giant released his stiff prick from his trousers and inserted it firmly between his buttocks, and into his protesting arsehole.
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