The Private Journals of Isaiah Watts
Volume III

By: Nicholas Hall
(© 2022 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

nhall@tickiestories.us

Chapter 8
 

“Thanksgiving is two short weeks away and we are busy preparing for a grand family feast. Momma is having all of the Watt’s, except for me, and Grandma and Grandpa Lovell. We will have our family and Agostino and Sabrina Russo (and Freddy) at our house.

Gio’s boys have really settled in and made this their home. School was a bit of a struggle at first, but with St. James’ help they soon were up to grade level.

I’ve continued to listen to the short-wave radio and have been picking up some “rumors” concerning activity of a night raider during the war in Italy.

(The Private Journals of Isaiah Watts) 

“Be extremely subtle even to the point of formlessness. Be extremely mysterious even to the point of soundlessness.
Thereby you can be the director of the opponents fate.”

(Sun Tzu – The Art of War) 

The weather was frosty, yet additional snow didn’t seem to be in the immediate future. There were about two inches of the white, cold flakes on the ground. Not enough to cause any problems or enough to bother the harvest of corn. Soybeans and oats were already harvested and either in the bins or sold.

Isaiah and Gio were returning from Decker’s Corner and the locker plant with frozen beef and pork to replenish the freezers at Ravenwood. An inventory by Paul indicted they had plenty of hamburger, but could use bacon, sausage, a couple of hams, some pork chops, and pork roasts.

The fall butchering was complete and the freezers and locker were well stocked. Paul made every effort to preserve all the garden and fruit produced on the farm as possible. The boys gathered walnuts, pecans, and hickory nuts and stored them in the fruit (storm) cellar in gunny bags. Potatoes, apples, cabbage, and other items were stored there as well.

Isaiah and Gio unloaded the items they brought from Decker’s, hauled it inside to the kitchen and store room.

“Takes a lot to feed our large family, doesn’t it?” Gio sighed after unloading.

Isaiah nodded and laughed, “It’s all worth it once you watch the boys and men, I might add since Monty and Jimmy are full grown now, grow physically and emotionally. They are the ones who, through their efforts, produce this abundance.  We’re lucky we don’t have to struggle financially as many others do.”

Isaiah followed the example set by his father and mother in sharing abundance with those who had less or little. He also made certain palms were “greased” to insure political influence and loyalty. Although, he realized, as did the other Watt’s Family members and Gio, the loyalty in some cases was only as secure by the amount and frequency of payment. Hence, they made it a priority to locate and store for future reference any activity by individuals which could be used to “influence” their decisions. In other words, blackmail!

“Well,” Isaiah added, “it didn’t hurt the coffers any with your contributions from the “spoils of war” you brought home with you. Converted to cash every now and then comes in handy and will be great in case of any unforeseen circumstances.”

The entire time Gio was in Italy, he made it a point to rifle and loot the safes and hiding places Germans officers used to store the jewelry, gold coin, precious stones, and American dollars (not the counterfeit ones). Getting those items home was no problem either; bribery and blackmail!

What he brought home would be considered a small fortune by many, but what he left behind with family over there was much more and a godsend in helping them rebuild and carry on with their lives, after all the damage the Nazi’s did.

Meat unloaded, offering to help Paul and Tommy put it away refused, Gio and Isaiah walked to the office to visit with Andy concerning the financial books and go over some orders and invoices.

Andy was not bent over the desk attending to the tasks at hand, but leaned back in his chair, legs seemingly stretched out in front of him, his eyes closed, and a smile on his face. Gio and Isaiah heard him plea softly,

“That’s enough! It’s pretty sensitive right now and I don’t think I can cum again just yet!”

Andy opened his eyes when he heard Gio and Isaiah enter the office and tried to straighten up in his chair, but something or someone prevented him from doing so. Isaiah saw him slip a hand down between his legs under the desk, heard some shuffling under there, and then one head, then another, and finally a third popped up between Andy’s legs and from behind the desk.

“Hi, Poppa!” beamed Vinnie.

“Hi, Uncle Isaiah and Uncle Gio,” chimed Andres and Carlito.

“I was showing Andres and Carlito how Uncle Andy likes his knob polished,” explained Vinnie proudly.

“I’ll bet you were,” laughed Gio.

“About four times,” giggled Carlito.

It was common knowledge around Ravenwood, where you’d find one of the three, the other two wouldn’t be far away. Carlito and Andres took pride in calling Vinnie “their little brother” and stuck by him through all. They were his protectors and his lovers, a position he loved and would drop his britches whenever one of them desired.

“Don’t you think Uncle Andy needs to recover and finish his work before supper?

The boys didn’t disagree, and disentangled themselves from under the desk, emerging pant-less and dicks pointing north. Carlito and Andres were in the process of maturing with sparse hair around their cocks, their balls hanging a bit lower, and cocks lengthening. Vinnie, on the other hand, still maintained his pre-pubescence cock and balls and was enjoyed by his “older brothers,” as well as St. James who perched a naked Vinnie on his lap while “tutoring” him. Of course, Vinnie wasn’t the only one who enjoyed St. James ministrations. Monty, his lover and partner certainly didn’t object when St. James would bury his cock in Carlito, Andres, Rico, or Tony’s sweet, fuckable asses, especially if Monty was able to join in the fun. Monty’s average-sized cock would quickly find a warm, moist spot to call home while St. James was busy with a smooth boy’s butt as well.

“Where and when did you bring Vinnie into the fold?” Isaiah asked. “You never did say!”

Gio thought a moment, pondering his response.

“It was early Spring 1944 as I recall. Fighting was intensifying as Allied Forces continued their advance into Italy and towards the North. Danger from German forces and Italian Fascist Partisans made movement dangerous. I had Nicolo with me, leaving Sandro and the others behind. With Demarco’s help, they’d be able to fight long enough to make their escape, if necessary.”

“Tony put up one hell of a fuss he couldn’t go with me. He’d started called me ‘Poppa’ as did the others, and felt it was his personal duty to protect me from those ‘fuckin’ Nazi’s’ as he put it.”

Gio and Nicolo were on their way home from a mission to rid an area of some very mean, brutal Fascist Partisans who’d been terrorizing some of the local villages by looting, killing, and raping. Gio thought, according to the intelligence he was receiving, it was time to put a stop to it!

Local informants kept him apprised of the location of the miscreants, gave it to him when he (disguised as a priest) arrived, the number he would find there, and their armaments. They also had a case of dynamite one had stolen for him to use, if he needed it. It didn’t take Gio long to locate the house, some three miles from the small village, and put together his plan.

Nicolo and Gio waited until they were certain the partisans were asleep before taking any action. While they waited, Gio took advantage of Nicolo’s invitation to slip his cock into his ass and enjoy a invigorating and satisfying injection of male liquid dynamite from Gio’s balls and stiff cock into Nicolo’s waiting hole.

The lone guard standing to the side of the house entrance was quickly and quietly neutralized (Gio slit his throat) and Nicolo lugged the case of dynamite to the house. Gio booby-trapped the front door with a trip wire, attached the wire to a hand grenade, and placed it in the box of explosives. This, he slid inside the door of the house into the living area where he could see about eight or ten men sleeping.

Their leader, if the information was correct, would be in a small bedroom at the back of the house. He was rarely alone, preferring to have a “bed mate,” male and preferably young!

Peeking in the bedroom window, Gio could see the leader, bare-assed naked with his back to the window, laying on the bed, his ass-cheeks slowly thrusting and clenching, buried balls deep in the ass-end of a very young, equally as naked, male. The young man, maybe sixteen or seventeen, didn’t seem to be objecting any, in fact, by the noises he was making, soft mewing sounds, appeared to be enjoying the fucking he was receiving. The two were so intent on their coupling, they failed to hear or notice Gio coming in through the window. It wasn’t until the leader felt the cold press of a pistol barrel up against the back of his neck and the soft warning to be silent and not move, did either of them realize they were in deep shit!

The young man turned his head, viewed the masked skull face staring at him, and immediately pissed the bed! With a slight chuckle, Gio quickly gagged and trussed their hands up. Nicolo was waiting outside the window as Gio shoved first the young man out, taking the opportunity to fondle the young man’s average-sized, uncut cock and relatively smooth balls, before shoving the leader out the window as well. Gio followed and Nicolo and he marched to the two toward the front of the house. They were some forty yards away when one of the soldiers from inside woke, needing to take a piss! Stepping to the door, he saw the Gio and the others, He hesitated just in front of the trip wire, trying to decide if what he saw was really there. He’d heard rumors of this “Angel of Death” but thought they were stories from suspicious old people.

“Shoot him,” Gio ordered, nodding at Nicolo.

Using his pistol, Nicolo loosed four rounds toward the man hitting him with at least two. The soldier pitched forward, contacted the trip wire, and set off the explosions. Open mouthed, both prisoners watched as the entirety of the house was demolished! There were no survivors! As debris rained down, Gio marched his prisoners to a tree, tossed a rope over a limb, looped one end around the neck of the leader, ordered the young man to get on his hands and knees, ordered the other to stand on his back, tied the rope off on the trunk of the tree to tighten the grip on the prisoner’s neck, and stepped aside.

“You,” pointing at the leader, “have killed, raped, and looted long enough. It ends here!” and nodded at Nicolo. Now, Nicolo could have just as easy pushed the young man over, but instead decided to reach from behind, grab hold of the lad’s balls, and begin pulling backwards. The man to be hanged tried screaming for the kid to stay steady, but the pain on the teen’s balls was too great! The teen fell sideways, the man dropped, and began to kick as he neared death from suffocation. Nicolo pulled the teen aside while the leader, in the throes of death, began losing control of his bowels and bladder.

The young man pleaded for his life in long, loud sobs, claiming he wasn’t part of the group, only a boy who whored himself out to stay alive. Volunteered to let Gio and Nicolo fuck him several times a day or whatever they wanted to do if they’d just spare his life.  Gio gave every signal to the young man he was believed. Of course, Gio meant to spare him anyway- he needed a witness to report back and warn the others he would be seeking anyone out who attacked and maimed others.

Not one to pass up an offer, he had Nicolo hold his pistol on the teen and fucked him hard and fast. Finished, Nicolo took his turn, reaming the young man’s cum filled asshole.

Handing the young man a “Jolly Roger” flag, he said, “and here’s something to remind you,” and shot him in the left foot.

“At any rate,” Gio continued, “after we left and on our way home, traveling along the coast, traveling at night, I noticed something rather strange. There was light from what appeared to be a campfire. I heard several shots so we stopped to investigate.”

Masks and costumes on, Gio and Nicolo crept off of the road in the direction of a small clearing shielded, for the most part, by a large outcropping of stone. A campfire burning near a Roma caravan, revealed eight German soldiers, some with automatic weapons standing, looking at seven dead adults on ground, while two other soldiers emerged from the caravan. One soldier shouted there was nothing of value inside.

“Toss the bodies into the caravan,” a German sergeant ordered, “and burn it.”

“Can we kill them?” whispered Nicolo to Gio.

Before Gio could respond, he noticed a small person peek from behind a tree not far from them. The person quickly ducked back into cover. Gio held up a hand, pointed a finger toward the tree, and motioned Nicolo to follow him. The soldiers were busy so they didn’t notice Gio and Nicolo or the youngster spying on them

Gio snuck up behind a small boy and as quick as a wink, clasped a hand around his mouth, and warned him to be quiet.

“Be quiet, little one,” he warned in Roma, “I do you no harm but will save you.”

The specter grabbing the youngster clearly frightened him, but he didn’t move. Nicolo kept a watch on the soldiers while Gio picked up the boy and carried him away. A loud “whoosh” was heard accompanied by the roar of flames consuming the caravan and the dead. Gio turned slightly to see the Germans used a flame-thrower to incinerate the dead. He felt the boy struggle in his arms and then grow still, realizing the finality of the scene unfolding before them.

“We’ll get them,” Gio promised the boy.

The three waited until the soldiers, satisfied their deed was done, grouped up, and headed toward where they’d bivouacked, and followed them discretely. The squad settled in for the night, except for one left on guard duty. Gio waited until he was certain all were asleep, slipped in and with a shot with his silenced pistol to the head of the sentry brought about his death. He quickly tossed hand grenades in each of the three tents the troop was using and ducked for cover. The blasts killed all but three, who were wounded and offered little resistance when Nicolo and Gio trussed them up. One of the survivors happened to be the sergeant who ordered the burning of the caravan.

“Now,” Gio said in German to the three survivors, “you pay for killing the boy’s family!”

The boy stepped forward, pointed his finger at the three and through his tears shouted at them calling them “fuckin’ bastards!”

Gio grabbed a private, picked up a bayonet, hauled him to a large tree, stretched the prisoner’s arms with hand together up the length of the tree far enough the soldier had to stand on tiptoes, and pinioned his hands to the tree with the bayonet. The soldier screamed in pain and swore his dislike of Gio. The other two began pleading for their lives!

Gio picked up the flame thrower, cursing the two and shouted, “Death comes as fire to you!” and doused them with fiery napalm.

Gio placed the boy on the motorcycle between him and Nicolo. The three submachine guns they confiscated found a home in the sidecar with the rest of their equipment. Before he started out, he asked,

“And what do we call you, little one?”

“Vincenzo Margade,” the boy replied, “but they call me Vinnie and those bastards,” he sniffled, “killed Momma, Poppa, Grannie, my brothers and burned them up!” he sobbed.

“And now I’m all alone!” he wailed.

“Not anymore, Little One,” Gio said soothingly, reassuring Vinnie, “not anymore!”

To be continued...

Posted: 08/19/2022