Hurra, ich kaufe Thierry Lachaux and his short stories - Führe mich zum Laden!

Foreword by Cyril Attenborough
I first met Cedric Lachaux in his father’s home in Annecy, a little lad who had just fled his mother and her new friend, who had been injured, felt terribly downcast, did not know what he should do with himself. I at once fell in love with him. But at this time there was nothing between us, his father was watching with eagle eyes upon him, David also looked stern whenever I tried to get near to him. But soon afterwards he left us, had a life of strife and pains, wandering about the whole of Europe and going at last to South America where he knew José, Raúl and other friends of Ramon. Of course I had experienced the same, I too was downcast and had fled from Davos and had gone to Thierry because I did not know where else to go. Thierry has helped me a lot and unfortunately Cedric never listened to him. OK, now Cedric has found his way in life and we two are now close friends again. As I like to write, I have written different articles for newspapers, have acquired a certain renown as a journalistic writer. Thierry Lachaux, of course, his father who is in a certain point also my tutor, wrote about his life and he and Ramon gave me the ideas for the other short stories I contribute in this book. I invited Cedric to share in my book and he contributed the fourth short story, Britannicus. It is by far the longest story written in this book and I have to accept that he, Cedric, wrote the best part of this book, probably.

Thierry Lachaux


I, Thierry Lachaux, was born in a small boring town near Paris known for its immense Gothic cathedral. Lots of French Kings were crowned in this cathedral. Only one of them is publicly known as having had the same decease as I have. And he knew he had it a long time before I realized it. Which decease? Ho....- no I won’t tell you now. I am not taking the suspense away at the beginning. And I will tell the story from the beginning. I am still living here and am a respectable citizen, belonging to the merchants' guild and to different associations of citizens, have a clever and beautiful wife, chairman of different social organizations and two nice children, a boy, Yves and a girl, Rosalie. Everybody considers me as normal happy married men. That is, considered me, before the crisis came and I walked away with David. And I pulled my son Cedric, too, into an abyss. He is now living with us and my wife living together with her friend, is very anxious! I too thought I was happy and without further wishes, chauffeuring my children to school, working as my boss at the optic and camera shop I had inherited from my father, eating lunch and dinner together with the whole family cooked perfectly by my wife at home,  and sometimes exercising in bed with my wife.  Both my shop and my lodgings are in the same red brick house of the last century in the row of little brick houses opposite of the cathedral. All my ancestors lived, worked and dreamt about their secret wishes known or unknown here. It’s very convenient and it smells of the agreeable lives of my forebears. And till now, nobody has come back because of the terrible perversity of his last offspring, me, of course. Before our house there is a lot of green space, a public space, where we can walk, sprint or simply lie in the grass. My wife is sexy and nice, my two children lovable.

Taormina

In Count Albert's bed I lie (not alone)

Embracing me, he gently led me into the chamber. I was awestruck. I still remember how we stood breast to breast in the high spacious room, not being able to utter words for I was awed so much. My looks went around, on all the naked little boys climbing around in a frightening, dark jungle, showing their nice laps, their pricks, their asses and further upwards, hanging on the painted ceiling, sectored by big beams, all gilded with gold. In the caissons between the beams angels flew. They were completely naked, hung up by cables, exposing their legs and behinds. Were they of plaster, I wondered to be able to fly, to reek with their bodies and not to fall down? Like these angels that are flying in these big baroque cathedrals! I looked again and then I gasped. They were real living boys in their teens, hanging down from the ceiling on strings bound around their ankles, their legs, their calves, their thighs and knees which were so well exposed to the strokes of the whip of Count Albert, especially their feet with the soles looking downwards. Such a temptation, I thouth: to lick their small pricks, to lick their untouched calves, their untouched thighs, to penetrate their little tight asses with my fingers! And especially to stick my tongue into their tight assholes! By they were flying much too high up. I could not reach them, unfortunately. We went into the room. I was gently pushed by Count Albert’s  arms on my shoulder until we stood on the bed in the midst of the room. Then he stopped me, turned me around till I stood before him, and kissed me again and I couldn't resist the temptation to kiss back and soon we are entangled, he put his leg between my leg and moved it gently around up and down rubbing my jack till I felt my prick stiffen under my clothes. We were now sexually excited. In a great hurry we unclothed each other while he embracing me all the time. The high windows were wide open, letting in the warm air and the sound of the twittering birds.

Arun

He pulls me into the room and she takes my wrists and chains them with the cuff links. He presses me down on my knees and puts a dirty rag into my mouth while she fixes  a chain on my ankles. I'm on my knees. Him before and her behind me, ankles and wrists chained. I can't budge, can't shout. Silently they tear my clothes away till I knee completely naked before them. He drops his bermudas shorts and his immense prick is dangling before my mouth. He says: "We want to use you. You have two possibilities, either you agree to collaborate and earn easily 50 Dollars or we call the police and tell them you were sneaking into our room. You have no possibility to defend yourself, because we are the tourists and we are two.  In any case you Indians are all eager of the tourists money. He takes out a bundle of American Dollar notes, puts them on the bed. besides the magazine. If you make it so that we rejoice in it, the amount will be doubled. If you shout you will be thrashed." Suddenly she holds a pistol in one hand and presses it against my neck. I nod, I have no choice. She grips my head with a hand on my chin, pulls the rag out of my mouth, and presses my head backwards more into the pistol barrel. With her leather boots she  wears she caresses me under my ass and presses on my balls and on my penis. She wears riders boots and presses its thorn into my ass hole. I get much excited. My head is firmly held while he takes his penis in both hands and makes it stiff. Without warning he presses his stiff thing into my mouth whilst she holds my head untill I nearly choke. I am not feeble but I was completely taken by surprise. Probably they will kill me afterwards. But surprisingly there come loud bangs on the door. A loud voice cries: "Police, open up." They stop. They conduct me to their cupboard and close me in it, after having put a rag in my mouth. I'm nearly choking. But I'm a saved whilst they are taken away in cuff links. A neighbour saw my violin case before the door, which fell out of my hand. He heard the noise inside the room and alarmed the porter who alarmed the police, because they did not hear his bumping against the door and did not open. Now Shib and Billy are awake. They recognize my violin case. And thats why the police searches all cupboards. When they open the cupboard where I am, I'm nearly choked and I have waned.  But Shib is very upset. I believe now that he really loves me. Billy is annoyed. He asks: "Why are you here. Where is your super friend?" Very rude of him. He lets me understand  that for him I would rather no longer exist. But for the sake of Shib he accepts me. He says: "For tonight you can lodge with us in our room on our sofa."

Hendrik


Hendrik thinks: This terrible, bearded and hairy monster! His hard thick prick hurt me so much in the grotto when it penetrated me. And he just simply left me there in the damp cold, hands and feet bound so I couldn't move. Had to endure the pain! Still, he must have a feeble for me, that he came back and took me to this feudal room? But, wait, is the person who abused me and this person really the same? I think not. It is probably another man. Now I remember. There was a fight and a loud cry in the outside. I don’t think that it is the same who raped me who came back. He smells like the one in the armour who had raped me near the hut. And now I am lying somewhere in a stone walled room. Between the cold, thick stone walls of a castle. No! It is this knight, I am sure.

But what’s the reason to think longer about this. I want to survive, I must profit from this feeble he has for me. My whole life is like this. I was very sensible. I was oldest son. Uncle John was always drunk and treated like a outsider. But I was so sensible, or maybe only dreamy as they said, I felt myself as an outsider. All others in my family were much more down to earth. My father was cobbler, quite considered in our little town. I had a younger brother who was more like of him than I am. I couldn't come to like this art of cobblership. My father all the time made fun of my clumsiness. But my Uncle John understood and I took to him. Soon I confided in him. I longed for his tenderness. But he used of me and soon they found out and I was so punished  As for my father I heard he had sworn to kill me when he realised I liked Jack and if John hadn't been in-between I would be dead buried somewhere in the dust of a cross road. And the priest who chased me out of the church as I tried to get comfort in my position as chased deer, wanted to pray to the mother of us all. She must be our all mother, she liked Jesus who also liked St John. Then my brother told me, with pleasure, that there were lots of rumours going around about me and that they were looking for me to be punished because I was with the devil. I couldn't understand why it had to be. But I did not want to burn on a stake as the hunchback Lisa had been last winter. I shuddered thinking of it. I ran away from home. Far away, somewhere in the countryside they gave me to eat, in the hidden, allowed me to sleep with the cows in their warmth. With bitterness I remembered the days when uncle John took me by my arms and carried me to his bed in the hut behind our house and stuck his prick in me while I had to endure his sour smelling breath.  I remember this terrible night and will never forget it. But in a way I liked it and sought to experience the same feeling again. I had tried to seduce several boys I was playing with on the street and which attracted me because of their beauty. After some strolling along in the countryside I entered the small town of Nurnberg. And there I encountered Nicolas. I was at once attracted to him! He was always thoughtful. But he emanated such a happiness, such a friendliness. I had always experienced people as dull, morose and nervous. And he was completely different. He told me of a dream he had had, archangel Michael urging him to deliver Jerusalem of the heretics. We had nothing to loose here why not going to the heretics. We were hiding before everybody. Nicolas was such a nice figure, looking like an Angel. I persuaded him to speak to the others as we thought there must be lots who were in the same situation and thought the same as we. There had been a great famine as the summer had been bad. So  he began preaching, he spoke on the market place, as long as the church men did not realise what spirit he emanated.

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