"So you spent three weeks on horseback getting here? You must be literally both saddle sore and grimy, Graf Cederhielm. Well,we have a good remedy for both: a hot shower," beamed Colonel Riesenheim behind his large oak desk.
The colonel was rotund, surprisingly fat for a cavalry officer. I assumed he needed help to get in the saddle.
"You have a hot shower?" I asked, surprised. I had heard of them but never seen one, much less used one.
The colonel virtually shone with pride. "Our new officers' gymnasium has several. Follow me," he said, rose from his chair and walked out the door held open by his aide, the blond Captain von Königsberg, who looked surprisingly young for a captain. Definitely younger than me, and I was 23 and merely a lieutenant. That is why the colonel had used my aristocratic title, count, instead of my military rank. So as not to shame me in front of my younger colleague, who outranked me.
The captain closed the door behind us and followed a couple of paces behind, as we walked down the corridors and across the yard.
Being an officer, especially a cavalry officer, had its advantages before the Great War. We were a brotherhood of gentlemen – practically all blue blooded – and wherever you went, unless you happened to be at war with them, you could count on the hospitality of your brothers in arms, regardless of nationality.
Which was what I did, when I took a leave of absence from my regiment in Stockholm – not really a problem in peacetime, there were too many officers anyway – to start on my Grand Tour, a year or two travelling Europe and possibly the Middle East.
Being a cavalry officer, I of course scoffed the coach and headed out on horseback. Riding from Stockholm to Berlin had taken me three weeks, staying at inns and farms, sometimes sleeping in barns, and eating simple fare. In the three weeks I hadn't even come close to hot water.
I did expect better, when I introduced myself to the guard at the cavalry regiment in Berlin, and in due course was escorted to the commander's office. But being introduced to the luxury of a hot shower was far beyond my expectations.
The gymnasium looked much like any officers' gym, equipped with Roman rings, wooden horses and suchlike. Half a dozen officers were occupied with boxing, wrestling and fencing. Next to it was a locker room with wooden benches and above them hooks for the clothes. Nothing exceptional.
But the shower room was out of the ordinary. It was all tiled and had the usual row of wash basins, but along one wall was a row of eight brass showers. I had seen showers before, but imagining that these dispensed hot water excited me.
"It's a great invention," said the colonel. "They do wonders for the hygiene of our officers, of course. But they are also very sensual. In fact, I think I'll make you company and have a shower myself."
He started unbuttoning his tunic and I sat down on a bench and started tugging at one of my riding boots.
"Felix will help you with those," said the colonel, undressing.
Captain Felix von Königsberg turned out to be an expert footman. Although my boots had a snug fit, he had them off in no time. I did the rest of my undressing myself.
The colonel, undressed, turned out to look like an ape, completely hairy. There was not an inch of his fat body that was not covered with black curly hair. His crotch was a jungle of growth from which protruded a penis which was not exceptional, except for its head which was the size of a plum and made his dick look like a purple mushroom.
The colonel, naked and hairy, stepped under the showers and turned on one in the middle of the row. He adjusted the temperature, then moved on to the next one, leaving the first one for me, while the captain laid out towels and bars of soap for us on the bench.
I grabbed a bar of soap and hit the shower. The warm water felt divine on my body. I had never felt anything like it. I stepped back and felt the spray hit directly on my penis. It twitched and started to rise.
I stepped back in and started to wash my face. Soap got in my eyes and I stepped out of the shower and turned around to look for my towel on the bench. It was handed to me by Captain von Königsberg. I rubbed my eyes and noticed that the captain too was now naked, and that he in contrast to his commanding officer was completely void of hair on his body, obviously shaved. Not only did it make him look younger, boyish even, but it also made his penis, at half mast and rising, look bigger. Not fat, rather slender, but definitely longer than the colonel's. Longer than mine too, I had to admit. Probably not less than seven inches at full attention, I guesstimated.
I turned back towards the wall and continued to wash off the grime of three weeks on horseback. Suddenly the colonel to my left gripped my wrist and started to wash my arm with a soapy washcloth. Seconds later the captain, who had stepped under the shower to my right, did the same with my other arm.
It was confusing, but as far as I knew, washing your guests could well be part of Prussian hospitality. I decided not to make a fuss.