I was tied to the bedpost, and I couldnt understand why she was hurting me. I hadnt done anything wrong. Mother had just dragged me out of bed and tie... me up. I hadnt even wet my bed this time. No, Mother, please! It hurts! You know you like it, you sick pervert! Come on, show Mother what youve got in those little balls of yours! Mothers hand moved rapidly and roughly up and down my twelve-year-old penis, and I tried to hold back, but the pain mixed with the pleasure, and I had my first. She steered him to her low bed and tucked him in. Again she fed him soup, not too much, for his shrunken stomach couldn’t cope. She smiled as his head started to droop and he subsided back into sleep. She gathered up the tattered clothing, staring hard at the tarnished buttons with their two-headed eagle. She knew, then, what he was. The long boots, soles worn through and bound with rags, the ragged dolman. She muttered to herself and crossed herself sketchily. This was the hated enemy, the. More

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