Col. Landa meant it to be like an interrogation. He would've told the beautiful tan-skinned thing that he was under suspicion by the S.S. for being a spy. Berlin was a warzone and the fags were going extinct. He had bought loyalty from the Patriot occupants and knew, deep down, that the boy's life was already lost. He was simply cutting it short. It seemed the fair thing to do… he was doing him a favor.

Of course it did not go as planned. Since then Landa's method has become much more premeditated, refined.

"I am like a surgeon." Landa spoke in Italian. It was the language Tadzio understood inherently; unlike German. Tadzio was from Venice. There the canals were filled with disease and parasites. Landa knew this. He teased him, called him a gnat.

"You are a little gnat, Tadzio." Landa purred. "And I am going to investigate, dissect you. You are an experiment to me."

This, of course, was all before the sex, which Landa performed at first with hateful detachment, as most German soldiers did in Berlin. The rentboys were used to it. Tadzio was used to it. Landa could not tolerate the way the youth stared at him, eyes and hair black as coal. The first time they fucked it was stunted and shameful—because Landa had only done it once before, because he was terrified of the perverse act of nudity and insertion.

Then he put his hands around the young boy's neck, tightly, and tried again. This time it was better. He found his rhythm. Sinking back onto the male's body he heard the hitched moans of suffocation, but felt the unmistakable results of masochism.

"This night being as… revealing… as it's been," The Colonel spoke later, half-dressed after he had bent the lad across the headboards, beaten him, made him come all over himself, gagged him, spanked him, choked him nearly to death, "you surely can't expect me to let you walk out of here alive."

"And why not, sir?" The youth spoke with bruised lips, watching Landa's Kongsberg pistol as it wavered in the nazi's hand.

Landa pursed his lips. "Little gnat, your time is up. For all of the sluts in Berlin, time is up." He ran a hand through his hair, gestured with the cylinder of the pistol, a bullet in the chamber. "You must be aware you wouldn't have lasted very much longer anyway. But here you are. The resilience of men is something of interest to me. Human beings will do anything to stay alive. To survive."

Tadzio shifted on the sheets, laying nude, recalcitrant.

"Take you for example. You, suck cock to stay alive. You take cock. You let men fuck you and you like it." As Landa spoke he felt heat crawl up his face. His finger tightened on the trigger, pistol aimed at Tadzio's liver.

"You like it," Tadzio retorted, eyes flaring. "You wanted to fuck me. Stupid German. You want to fuck, you want to kill."

Landa was struck for a moment. He ticked a brow. Licking his lips he nodded. "Goodnight, Tadzio."

From beneath the mattress there was a handheld pistol. Tadzio shot him through the collar bone. The scream he made rattled the sodomites from their coitus.

Donny grabbed the edges of Landa's waistcoat and tugged, yanked until the fabric ripped free from the shoulders, some medals and nationalist pins spiraling off into the darkness. He slapped Landa across the head, laughed: "Lemme see it, YOU FUCKIN' COWARD!" The Colonel threw his elbows in a panic, catching Donny in the face, but the coat came off, and Landa just kept struggling, until his cold nude ass came down on the bulge in Donny's trousers. "LEMME SEE IT."

Donny thrusted and gave a chesty laugh, grabbed Landa's neck again and knocked his head into the brick. "Let me see it, I want to see it you fucking slut."

The Colonel was nearly blacked out, but wiggled against the heat pushing into his backside, gasped for air, weakly obliging. Donny pulled the collar of the shirt down across Landa's back, the cloth tearing. There it was: a deep gully, a frayed bullet wound in the flat bone of the German's shoulder blade. Donny circled it with his thumb and pressed down.

A fusillade of cursewords erupted from Landa. Donny curled his tongue, "Oh, does that hurt? I think you like pain… you like givin' it, you like receivin' it." With that he slowed down, just enough for it to be excruciating when their bodies made their way down to the ground, and Donny started unbuttoning Landa's shirt proper, and pushing the man's legs apart.

"He loved it," Landa mumbled, delirious with pain. "He loved me."

"He put one over on you." Donny sing-songed, dragging a heavy hand through Landa's hair and then slapping him across the face. Landa jerked his hips at the slap, made some breathy sound from deep in his gut. There were birds in the nazi's skull. One too many collisions with the wall, one too many gulps of premium vodka—birds exploding.

"I'm…" Landa whispered, eyes closed, brows raised, sweating and gulping, flesh burning all over.

"Hard as a rock," Donny remarked, taking in the state of the concussed Colonel.

With his hair moist and sticking to his face he almost looked boyish, too young-looking for his age, it was criminal. Landa's mouth hung open and wet like a harlot, dark eyes half-lidded, begging hopelessly, abandoning dignity. Donny stared, rolled his pelvis against him, lacking all finesse save for pure sexual necessity, and said to the man beneath him: "you fucking whore, you want this."

He shoved his fingers into Landa's mouth, who panted madly against them, and shouted: "fuckin' suck on em, slut", which Landa did, his tongue lapping against the digits like an obedient dog, eyelids fluttering. With a satisfied smirk Donny pulled his hand away, but not before coarsely dragging the spit-slicked hand down Landa's slack lips. He released himself from the confines of those rough workman's trousers, slickened up the swollen length of his prick and laid it into the furrow of Landa's ass, which wiggled much more wantonly than the Colonel wished.

In a single, unapologetic thrust Donny filled Landa up to the hilt, their animal yells bouncing off the walls. Tears stung Landa's eyes as the Bear Jew put all his weight onto him, owned him like a dog, pinned his arms behind him and pulled out in agonizing steadiness, only to crash his hips forward again.

When the motion abruptly stopped, and Landa found himself unbearably impaled on the Bear Jew's cock, he choked back a sob.

A hand captured the back of his head, pulled him back by his hair, a voice growled in his ear: "fuckin' beg me."

Then a sharp spank came swiftly down upon his ass. His knees clenched, body shivering, cock jerking stiff. His gloved hands flexed, laid across one-another in a vice grip behind his back—his body ached, strung tight by intolerable need. Donny spanked him again, barking cruel grunts of laughter, and Landa hitched with every slap.

"Beg me for it…"
The hand crashed down again, then tugged at his german hair, he moaned pitifully. His forehead was hot, each abuse bringing him further to the breaking point. His arms dropped, wrists released from the jew's grip, and he hid his head in his arms, gasping: "Fuck me, please just fuck me…"

Donny knew how to fuck. He fucked Landa into the wall. The smell of sex and sweat and blood came off of them. Donny laid into him and called him names, pulled his hair, stuck his fingers down his throat, made him gag. Landa bit the back of his gloved hand to suppress the pathetic, slutty gasps echoing off the basement walls.

With a triumphant curse Donowitz wrapped his hands around Landa's neck and began to choke him. Prying at the thick, paw-like digits encircling his neck the Colonel hitched, sucked at the air when the man allowed him the luxury, and all in all made a total whore out of himself. As the sex became disorganized and wild, a hot lightning bolt of masochistic thrill spasmed through Landa and he came, breathing jaggedly into the obstacle of Donny's cupped hand across his mouth. Donny allowed him the sensation of his dick buried deep up his arse for a moment longer before he dismounted. Straddling Landa's waist, he fisted his cock to orgasm and shot a rope of cum that zigzagged across Landa's naked ass and uniform, splattering into the plumage of the his tussled golden hair.

Properly sitting on the middle of Landa's back as if the Colonel were his miniature prize horse, Donny chuckled to himself. Landa swallowed lungfuls of air. Donowitz stuffed his palm into the German's cum-tainted locks, tousling it roughly.

"Thatta boy." He whistled. "You turned out to be a good little fuck toy, didn't you."

Landa replied, with shameless clarity, staring at the blank slate floor: "What's that English expression? About losing one's marbles?"

"Shut the fuck up, Laahndah." Donny stood up and examined the cum sparkling in Landa's hair. He zipped up. Aldo and Utivich were howling upstairs over their drunken card game. "Yer a fuckin' traitor now, baby. Worse than that, yer a queer to boot. And you just got fucked up the ass by the Bear Jew and loved every second of it. So where do traitors go to get away from the murderous krauts that're gonna wanna make your dick into polish sausage?"

Landa shifted, felt cum dripping down his backside. He bit his lower lip. "I don't know, mister Donowitz. Where do we go?"

Donny sucked daintily at a fingernail, making a kissing sound with his lips. "Ahhh, Berlin!"