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After the battle of Caporetto, the Austro-Hungarian army launched an attack on the Monte Grappa massif, which in December 1917 led to the conquest of Col della Berretta and some Italian high-altitude positions, including an artillery garrison perched almost 2000 m above sea level on the rocky spur of Mez.
Roberto, born in 1893, was a sexting Italian soldier stationed on the Grappa front and was one of the best climbers in the 4th Army. When he was summoned to Robilant's General, he felt the blood freeze. Winter was approaching and the two armies were preparing to defend their respective positions while waiting to resume hostilities in the spring. What could the General want from him?
He stood at attention and silently listened to Robilant: he had been chosen for a suicide mission. He would have had to climb up to Mez, regain the small stone hut guarding the cannon and hold his position until the following spring. Roberto struggled to order his fears hierarchically between solo climbing, the assault on the refuge occupied by the Austrians and the long winter in an isolated place. But he had no choice, a refusal would be considered as desertion and he would have to deal with the firing squad as the ruthless military discipline of the royal army wanted.
On January 3, 1918 Roberto left for Mez. He had two firearms, ropes and food with him for a few days. He was forced to climb at night so as not to run the risk of being identified before reaching the foot of the rocky spur on the top of which the stone refuge had been built and transported - God knows how - that damn cannon. The next night he faced that last stretch of climbing and before dawn established visual contact with the hut. He stood behind a boulder a few meters from the target to assess the consistency of the enemy forces. He noticed only one man.
At first light of dawn he sneaked towards the refuge and broke through the door with a kick. Roberto had considered having to open fire if he was outnumbered. "Hands up!" he shouted in Italian, confident that the message would be understood anyway. In front of him was a blond boy, no more than 20 years old, intent on shaving a very light beard. Roberto immediately noticed the terror in the blue eyes of the sexting man, who immediately raised his hands and, in a stunted Italian, began begging not to shoot. "On your knees!" shouted Roberto.
After having searched with his eyes the narrow shelter and having excluded the presence of other Austrian soldiers, Roberto got the sexting man up and ordered him to put his hands against the wall. He approached the prisoner and began to search him thoroughly, passing his hands all over his body, including his genitals where they had explained to him during training, small knives were often hidden. When the search was over, he handcuffed him and tied him up with chains with eyelets attached to the wall. Immediately afterwards he began to assess the situation, while outside it began to snow.
Eliminating him immediately seemed the easiest solution. He would save supplies and not run the risk of being attacked at the first distraction. On the contrary, keeping him alive could have meant his life would have been spared if the Austrians had regained their post and he would have ended up a prisoner. He looked at the Austrian soldier. He was just a boy. Another poor victim of that insane position war, which was decimating their generation. "Fuck the King¸ fuck the Archduke, fuck Cadorna and Diaz" he thought.
He began to question him. The Austrian replied, crying in an Italian standoff. His name was Franz, he was 19 years old and from Salzburg. After the conquest of the refuge by the Austrians he was sent up there as a professional mountaineer with the task of guarding it until spring. Roberto had received the same order and he became part of that boy again, an innocent mountaineer like him. He decided that for the time being he would keep him alive by taking precise safety measures. He had to avoid in any way that the prisoner could attack him while he was sleeping or in a moment of distraction.
Franz was chained to his hands and feet and the chains secured to the stone wall. Robert placed straw as a bed and made sure that he could not reach any object. He was untied and led out of the hut for a few minutes every day after sunset to attend to his needs and stretch his legs while Roberto held him at gunpoint. To make sure he hadn't picked up any stones, once back in the hut, Franz had to undress completely naked, throw his clothes towards Roberto and wait for them to be checked with his hands resting against the wall.
Roberto had always been attracted by the boys, but since he was in the army he had had to restrain his instincts to avoid being court-martialed. Every night he was struck by Franz's Teutonic beauty, so different from the Italian beauty he was used to. The sexting man had swollen pecs and defined abdominals, two beautiful arms forged by climbing and furrowed by prominent veins, round, firm buttocks and a generously sized penis. Every evening Roberto enjoyed the striptease and stood there staring at that body source of indescribable desires, while calmly checking his clothes. Before going to bed Roberto would get Franz up again and frisk him by passing his hands over the boy's muscular body and generously touching his private parts. Franz found that treatment very humiliating, he was not used to being touched like that by another man.
As the weeks passed the wood began to become scarce and since there was no way to collect it on that rock spur Roberto was forced to limit the lighting of the fire to a few hours a day. To overcome the night cold, he studied how to share the bed with the prisoner, so that the proximity of the bodies would preserve the heat. He had Franz lie on the bed and tied his hands and feet to the heavy net with very tight ropes so that any movement was impossible. After that he would lie by his side. He knew that this contiguity was a risk, but it was better than freezing to death.
One evening in mid-February, Roberto heard Franz shaking in bed. He trembled. "I'm cold" let the boy run off half-cocked. Roberto was seized by a motion of compassion and approached him. He felt cold too, because he was not tied to four sticks and his arms were not uncovered above his head. He intertwined one leg with the sexting Austrian's and placed his head on the boy's chest without saying anything. Shortly afterwards he felt something hard as he held Franz's side to get closer to him. "What have you got there!?" he asked him on alert. He immediately searched the body of the sexting Austrian and, having identified the problem at the level of the pubis, slipped his hand into Franz's pants. It was just a hard-on. Roberto stayed in that position for a few seconds, squeezing the sexting man's generous rod and shortly afterwards began to move his hand. He thought that the boy hadn't been able to masturbate since his arrival and he was happy when Franz started to wheeze and poured the semen into his hand. "Danke" whispered the sexting man as Robert withdrew his wet hand from the battlefield.
The next day the sexting Austrian's embarrassment was obvious. Unlike Roberto, it was a new experience for him and he had never thought of receiving pleasure from another man. Nor from his own jailer. Roberto, on the other hand, kept staring at him, thinking of the boy's sex in his hand, his smooth skin, sculpted abs and powerful limbs. That evening Roberto squeezed the sexting man again, even though he had not been invited, and shortly afterwards his hand was again on his prisoner's erect penis. After a few moments, Roberto was overwhelmed by instincts and pulled down the sexting man's panties, releasing his sex, which disappeared immediately afterwards into his mouth. He began to greedily suck Franz's enormous penis, perceiving its veins and knotty texture. It had been years since he had taken it in his mouth and he had almost forgotten the feeling of security that he had attached to that hard rod. Franz found it hard to believe what was happening, but he suddenly understood the reasons for the Italian's attention to his body. At one point he felt he was near the point of no return and tried to warn his jailer. He was terrified of the Italian's possible reaction if it came into his mouth. Roberto understood, but did not stop, completing what he had started and savoring the nectar that Franz's member had lavished so abundantly.
At that point Roberto was very excited. Even his penis demanded relief. He thought for a moment to force the sexting Franz to reciprocity, but he didn't trust his rod in the jaws of the enemy. So he freed Franz's legs and turned him around. He had the sexting man's firm butt in front of him, whom he had admired every evening while the boy waited with his hands resting on the wall for the return of his clothes and who he had groped willingly at every search, until he became as hard as marble. In a moment it was over the sexting Kraut, who began to struggle. It must have been the first time for him, and by that evening he was already feeling paid. He didn't want to be violated like that. Roberto, in a furious excitement, took aim and penetrated poor Franz with determination, giving way to a new Italian offensive in the prosperous lands of Austria, which soon led him to invade the enemy territory with his seed, while he cried out in pain and was torn apart at every blow inflicted with power by Roberto's cannon.
In extracting his penis from Franz's anus, by now stunned and humiliated by that violence, Roberto thought that this story would end anyway and would pay a very dear price. If he was captured by the Austrians, because of the rules of war, they would have treated him in the same way. On the contrary, if they had been joined by Italian troops and the sexting man had told what happened in an interrogation, he would have ended up in court martial not so much for rape, but for having dishonored the uniform by letting himself go to homosexual behavior with a prisoner. But that night he didn't want to think about it, there was still a month to go before spring arrived and he didn't want to know anything more about the fucking war.
.
Roberto, born in 1893, was a sexting Italian soldier stationed on the Grappa front and was one of the best climbers in the 4th Army. When he was summoned to Robilant's General, he felt the blood freeze. Winter was approaching and the two armies were preparing to defend their respective positions while waiting to resume hostilities in the spring. What could the General want from him?
He stood at attention and silently listened to Robilant: he had been chosen for a suicide mission. He would have had to climb up to Mez, regain the small stone hut guarding the cannon and hold his position until the following spring. Roberto struggled to order his fears hierarchically between solo climbing, the assault on the refuge occupied by the Austrians and the long winter in an isolated place. But he had no choice, a refusal would be considered as desertion and he would have to deal with the firing squad as the ruthless military discipline of the royal army wanted.
On January 3, 1918 Roberto left for Mez. He had two firearms, ropes and food with him for a few days. He was forced to climb at night so as not to run the risk of being identified before reaching the foot of the rocky spur on the top of which the stone refuge had been built and transported - God knows how - that damn cannon. The next night he faced that last stretch of climbing and before dawn established visual contact with the hut. He stood behind a boulder a few meters from the target to assess the consistency of the enemy forces. He noticed only one man.
At first light of dawn he sneaked towards the refuge and broke through the door with a kick. Roberto had considered having to open fire if he was outnumbered. "Hands up!" he shouted in Italian, confident that the message would be understood anyway. In front of him was a blond boy, no more than 20 years old, intent on shaving a very light beard. Roberto immediately noticed the terror in the blue eyes of the sexting man, who immediately raised his hands and, in a stunted Italian, began begging not to shoot. "On your knees!" shouted Roberto.
After having searched with his eyes the narrow shelter and having excluded the presence of other Austrian soldiers, Roberto got the sexting man up and ordered him to put his hands against the wall. He approached the prisoner and began to search him thoroughly, passing his hands all over his body, including his genitals where they had explained to him during training, small knives were often hidden. When the search was over, he handcuffed him and tied him up with chains with eyelets attached to the wall. Immediately afterwards he began to assess the situation, while outside it began to snow.
Eliminating him immediately seemed the easiest solution. He would save supplies and not run the risk of being attacked at the first distraction. On the contrary, keeping him alive could have meant his life would have been spared if the Austrians had regained their post and he would have ended up a prisoner. He looked at the Austrian soldier. He was just a boy. Another poor victim of that insane position war, which was decimating their generation. "Fuck the King¸ fuck the Archduke, fuck Cadorna and Diaz" he thought.
He began to question him. The Austrian replied, crying in an Italian standoff. His name was Franz, he was 19 years old and from Salzburg. After the conquest of the refuge by the Austrians he was sent up there as a professional mountaineer with the task of guarding it until spring. Roberto had received the same order and he became part of that boy again, an innocent mountaineer like him. He decided that for the time being he would keep him alive by taking precise safety measures. He had to avoid in any way that the prisoner could attack him while he was sleeping or in a moment of distraction.
Franz was chained to his hands and feet and the chains secured to the stone wall. Robert placed straw as a bed and made sure that he could not reach any object. He was untied and led out of the hut for a few minutes every day after sunset to attend to his needs and stretch his legs while Roberto held him at gunpoint. To make sure he hadn't picked up any stones, once back in the hut, Franz had to undress completely naked, throw his clothes towards Roberto and wait for them to be checked with his hands resting against the wall.
Roberto had always been attracted by the boys, but since he was in the army he had had to restrain his instincts to avoid being court-martialed. Every night he was struck by Franz's Teutonic beauty, so different from the Italian beauty he was used to. The sexting man had swollen pecs and defined abdominals, two beautiful arms forged by climbing and furrowed by prominent veins, round, firm buttocks and a generously sized penis. Every evening Roberto enjoyed the striptease and stood there staring at that body source of indescribable desires, while calmly checking his clothes. Before going to bed Roberto would get Franz up again and frisk him by passing his hands over the boy's muscular body and generously touching his private parts. Franz found that treatment very humiliating, he was not used to being touched like that by another man.
As the weeks passed the wood began to become scarce and since there was no way to collect it on that rock spur Roberto was forced to limit the lighting of the fire to a few hours a day. To overcome the night cold, he studied how to share the bed with the prisoner, so that the proximity of the bodies would preserve the heat. He had Franz lie on the bed and tied his hands and feet to the heavy net with very tight ropes so that any movement was impossible. After that he would lie by his side. He knew that this contiguity was a risk, but it was better than freezing to death.
One evening in mid-February, Roberto heard Franz shaking in bed. He trembled. "I'm cold" let the boy run off half-cocked. Roberto was seized by a motion of compassion and approached him. He felt cold too, because he was not tied to four sticks and his arms were not uncovered above his head. He intertwined one leg with the sexting Austrian's and placed his head on the boy's chest without saying anything. Shortly afterwards he felt something hard as he held Franz's side to get closer to him. "What have you got there!?" he asked him on alert. He immediately searched the body of the sexting Austrian and, having identified the problem at the level of the pubis, slipped his hand into Franz's pants. It was just a hard-on. Roberto stayed in that position for a few seconds, squeezing the sexting man's generous rod and shortly afterwards began to move his hand. He thought that the boy hadn't been able to masturbate since his arrival and he was happy when Franz started to wheeze and poured the semen into his hand. "Danke" whispered the sexting man as Robert withdrew his wet hand from the battlefield.
The next day the sexting Austrian's embarrassment was obvious. Unlike Roberto, it was a new experience for him and he had never thought of receiving pleasure from another man. Nor from his own jailer. Roberto, on the other hand, kept staring at him, thinking of the boy's sex in his hand, his smooth skin, sculpted abs and powerful limbs. That evening Roberto squeezed the sexting man again, even though he had not been invited, and shortly afterwards his hand was again on his prisoner's erect penis. After a few moments, Roberto was overwhelmed by instincts and pulled down the sexting man's panties, releasing his sex, which disappeared immediately afterwards into his mouth. He began to greedily suck Franz's enormous penis, perceiving its veins and knotty texture. It had been years since he had taken it in his mouth and he had almost forgotten the feeling of security that he had attached to that hard rod. Franz found it hard to believe what was happening, but he suddenly understood the reasons for the Italian's attention to his body. At one point he felt he was near the point of no return and tried to warn his jailer. He was terrified of the Italian's possible reaction if it came into his mouth. Roberto understood, but did not stop, completing what he had started and savoring the nectar that Franz's member had lavished so abundantly.
At that point Roberto was very excited. Even his penis demanded relief. He thought for a moment to force the sexting Franz to reciprocity, but he didn't trust his rod in the jaws of the enemy. So he freed Franz's legs and turned him around. He had the sexting man's firm butt in front of him, whom he had admired every evening while the boy waited with his hands resting on the wall for the return of his clothes and who he had groped willingly at every search, until he became as hard as marble. In a moment it was over the sexting Kraut, who began to struggle. It must have been the first time for him, and by that evening he was already feeling paid. He didn't want to be violated like that. Roberto, in a furious excitement, took aim and penetrated poor Franz with determination, giving way to a new Italian offensive in the prosperous lands of Austria, which soon led him to invade the enemy territory with his seed, while he cried out in pain and was torn apart at every blow inflicted with power by Roberto's cannon.
In extracting his penis from Franz's anus, by now stunned and humiliated by that violence, Roberto thought that this story would end anyway and would pay a very dear price. If he was captured by the Austrians, because of the rules of war, they would have treated him in the same way. On the contrary, if they had been joined by Italian troops and the sexting man had told what happened in an interrogation, he would have ended up in court martial not so much for rape, but for having dishonored the uniform by letting himself go to homosexual behavior with a prisoner. But that night he didn't want to think about it, there was still a month to go before spring arrived and he didn't want to know anything more about the fucking war.
.
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