but you can’t suck cock forever. Why don’t you do something useful with your life?”

“You think I should run for Congress?”

“Don’t be a smart guy. This European war will eventually drag America in, just like the last one. There is a lot of money to be made in wars. America is about money and so we will get into this war soon enough. Anyway, Hitler is a prize cunt, and deserves killing.”

“What’s your suggestion?”

“Join the Navy.”

“Are you crazy?” said Johnnie. The astonished look on his face said it all.


“It is doubtful if air attacks can be launched against Hawaii in the face of strong defensive measures, subjecting the attacking carriers to the danger of material damage and the subsequent great loss of airplanes”
US Navy conclusion based on the 1932 Official US Naval War Games.


ASSUMPTION PARISH
LOUISIANA
DECEMBER 1939.


“Elton, are you in here?”

The boy said nothing. The back storeroom of the General Store was dark, with bags of rice and boxes of dry goods stacked in neat rows. The rows reached up eight feet in height; high enough to hide Elton and his employer’s son, Harold.

Elton was kneeling on two piles of rice bags that had been constructed for the purpose of sodomy. Stripped stark naked, with one knee on each pile, set two feet apart, the nineteen year old Elton bent forward and rested his perfectly formed torso on a third pile of rice bags. He heard the front door of the store lock and Harold’s father walk down the steps to the street.

Harold, a Klan member, was three years older than Elton and had been availing himself of Elton’s sometimes, but not always, drafted services since he started work for the Reverend Taylor the previous year.

The Reverend was the pastor of the small Primitive Baptist Chapel. He was a kind man, a mediocre preacher and a successful store owner. He employed Elton in the hope of converting him and all the other local black Catholics away from the wickedness and idolatry of Rome. Elton went along with this campaign because he needed the work. On Sundays he went to Mass at 8am and then went to the Reverend Taylor’s service at 10am.

The parish priest, Fr. Deloitte, a retired Navy chaplain whose family was Louisiana aristocracy and owned several big plantations up along the Mississippi, knew about this, but operated on the principle of going along to get along. Black Catholics in Assumption Parish Louisiana in December 1939 did not have a very wide selection of life choices.

Harold pushed his cock into Elton. This didn’t cause any real discomfort to him. He had been fucked by Harold dozens of times in the past year and knew, instinctively, all the moves in Harold’s sadly limited repertoire.

During most of the actual thrusting, Harold kept his hands off Elton. Black skin, that deadliest of poison, that carpet to Hell, horrified and obsessed him. About six months earlier, Elton had offered to suck Harold’s cock, as part of the procedure. He knocked Elton to the ground with a single punch; a lucky punch.

“Listen nigger boy, if you get out of your place, you’ll hang and burn. And I will do the honors.”

He didn’t touch Elton for nearly a week after that incident.

Outside, the