Expedition to Mesopotamia 1934 9
By Bald Hairy Man
Email, bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com. This is an adult story for adults. It is not intended for minors, or for persons who are offended by alternate life styles. This is 100% fantasy, so no effort at safe sex is suggested.
I slept most of the time for the next few days. While Ali the Smith was relieved of his duties so he could sleep, he slept on the floor at the foot of the bed. Other guards protected the doors and gates to the compound. Rolf and Otto came to see me every day. Dr. Singh was with me and apparently slept nearby. I didn't realize it at first, but Ali, Rolf, Otto and Dr. Singh were built much alike. They were bulls, massive powerful men.
Harkan told me he was called the Ox in Edinburgh and was the sole medical student on the rugby team. He had a research grant to study public health in the Mid-east. While he cared for me he became close to the Imam's and found out much about their medical needs and problems.
Otto had seen the bodies of my attackers. He mentioned to Abdullah one looked familiar. He thought he had seen him in the camp talking with Grubberfeld. With that comment, Otto sealed Grubberfeld's death warrant.
I was afraid the Sheik might act hastily, but didn't need to worry. There was the potential for an oversupply of dead Nazis in the Mesopotamian desert, and the Sheik took his time. Grubberfeld continued to meet with low life scum, but apparently, these meetings weren't particularly successful. Grubberfeld blamed this on the British. Evil Englanders were high on his list of villains. It hadn't occurred to him the Arabs were on to him and unhappy. Grubberfeld couldn't believe the "lesser races" could be a problem.
Max his helper became deeply troubled and his actions worried the other members of the expedition. Max was psychotic; he was convinced everyone was against him. We were quite lucky that way. When Max babbled on about the Arabs watching his every move, I knew he was right, but everyone else, including Grubberfeld assumed it was part of the mental condition.
I returned to work, translating and deciphering after a month in bed. I was weak, but enjoyed getting into something I liked. The Sheik was relieved, but wanted more. I needed to be well enough for sex. The ribs had healed, but the concussion was a worry.
While I had been healing, the Dr. Harkan Singh made friends with the Arabs. The connection was both intellectual and sexual. Harkan later told me, he had visited the hamam with the Sheik and the Sheik's relatives and it was a success. "This may sound very odd," Harkan told me. "The Sheik fucked me first, just to show who was in charge. I admit this was no problem for me. He is well endowed, but as we use to say in Edinburgh, he rang my chimes. I was fully prepared to simulate pleasure, but there was no need."
"I must admit, I entirely lost my normal reserve. This worried me since the might interpret this as unmanly, but they liked that. I think they admire enthusiasm. They correctly attributed this to the Sheik's sexual skills as well as his horse cock," he continued. "Frankly, I hadn't realized how receptive I was.
His associates, Uncle Ali and several sons and nephews were next. This too was good. Indeed, they were gentle compared to my Rugby chums. "Of course I was quite use to multiple penetrations. On several occasions, I was rogered by the winning Rugby team. Since I was the only dark skinned man on the team, the team captain and I got the hardest thrusts and was the recipient of the most orgasms."
"That sounds awful!"
"I rather enjoyed it," Harkan explained. "The team captain told me they typically would go after the best men on the team. The more men to seed you, the better you are as a player. Anyway, after the first two men seeded me there was so much sperm in my ass I could have taken Big Ben. My team didn't lose often. So I got to do the same to them."
"It's lucky men can't get pregnant. There would be many dark babies with white fathers. You might be surprised, but a number a men who were overtly abusive and nasty, came by to see me later so I could stretch their holes. I have a tight sphincter, but I can relax it for easy entry. Once a cock is in, it becomes a ring of steel, trapping the cock in my ass."
"They would like that," I said.
"All of them did," Harkan said.
"Returning to the Sheik, I amply demonstrated I was a good sport, so the Sheik opened up for me. My cock was a perfect fit for his ass. Let us say I rang his chimes too, and rang a few notes for the first time. I eventually discovered my cock also was ideal for his Brother Ali and sons Hamid and Abdullah. They loved it," Harkan continued. "I suspect it had something do the shape of my cock and the configuration of their rectums. They all have identical prostates too. I thought at first the Sheik had an enlarged prostate, but they all were similar. They are supposed to be the size of walnuts. The Sheik and his family have large prune sized glands, very sensitive too. You may have noticed they all have large cock heads."
"I guess you could say I am one of the boys now. Hamid speaks English quite well. He explained your special relationship with them. I envy you," he said. "They want me to develop a regimen of activities to build up your sexual capacity."
I laughed. "How do you do that?" I asked. "I have enjoyed the respite for sex."
"I don't know you that well, but I suspect you are not sincere about that," he said. "They want you badly."
"Good sex is good sex."
"You know it's much more than that," Harkan said. "You have brought something special to their lives. Let's face it; everyone likes sex. Something about you recalls the ancient traditions of their tribe. You weren't just good sex. You like them, don't you?"
"You're right," I said. "The rituals seem oddly natural to me. They could hardly be more different from my life in Scotland. Indeed, it's entirely different from anything I have ever known or even dreamed existed. I actually felt guilty I likes it so much. While I should have regarded the rituals as the depth of human depravity, I felt ecstatic joy. Instead of being sickened, I longed for another cock in my ass, another spurting cock filling me with more man seed. At one point two men fed me their sperm in my mouth as another was in my ass and a fourth man took my man seed."
"I understand," Harkan said, "I felt a sense of achievement with the rugby team. It started as "punishment" for losing the game, but it turned into something else. Everyone was fucked once, but then team Captain and I got the second and third fucks. We got the cream too. When they got in our asses and found their mates' seed lubricating the way, they forgo the punishment aspect. The other team's captain, a big bloke named Angus MacDougal, was the last in and was the first to visit me that night. I must have fucked him for an hour. He loved it."
I was shocked. "What team did you play?"
"It was just an informal game in the summer," Harkan said, "I think they called themselves the Perth Bombers."
"Did you know I'm William MacDougal?"
"That's a coincidence," Harkan said. "They always refer to you as Sir William."
"It's not a coincidence," I replied. "Angus is my brother."
"I'm sorry if I have shocked you. If I had any idea, I wouldn't have said anything. You don't expect an archaeologist in Mesopotamia to be connected to a rugby player in Scotland." He looked at me for a second. "I wonder if the taste for group sex could be genetic."
"Well, I knew Angus shared my sexual inclinations," I said. "I didn't know exactly how much we shared. Did he enjoy it?"
"We both did. He was on furlough, recovering from his wounds. I'm glad I didn't play him before, he's a bull of a man," Harkan said. "For a month we saw each other several times a week. He had a small cottage and we fucked each other silly every time we met. He went back to the army; I returned to my medical studies. We still write. "
Dr. Singh left and I returned to me translating. Rolf came by with a new tablet. He couldn't translate cuneiform, but he recognized the high quality of the work. Financial records tended to be quick and casually inscribed. He found a tablet in what could be best described as fine penmanship. Rolf was a good observer and recognized this as what I earlier had identified as the Priestly script.
This was used for recording rituals and sacred texts. This was the Mesopotamian equivalent of our medieval manuscripts, created by skilled professional scribes. This tablet described the meeting between Enki, the sperm god, and Gilgal, the local king. After a few lines, I recognized this as a rewriting of the Epic of Gilgamesh. This dealt with Gilgamesh and Enkidu, substituting Gilgal and Enki for the original characters.
Some of this was simple substitution, but other parts diverged in a substantial way. Only a handful of people could read or write. No one could pick up a copy of the Epic of Gilgamesh at the local tablet store. There may well have been only a handful of copies of the story in all of Mesopotamia.
If the local priest or scribe said this was the story, there would be no one to contradict him. For most persons, writing and reading were magical. To the uninitiated, the marks on clay were meaningless. Only a few god like men could read; it was magic. They could read the words of the ancients. Through these mystical tablets, the Gods gave their commandments and told their stories.
The priests and king alone knew how to read and understand these words. It would have been easy for a local king to appropriate these stories to reinforce his power and authority. The king of the town I had been claimed to be related to Enkidu, the Wildman and lover of Gilgamesh. The king of the city we were excavating was related to Gilgamesh himself, the king of Uruk.
These new tablets spoke of Enki, the god of creation and of sperm. He tended to distribute his sperm to his daughters, giving birth to gods and considerable ill feeling. Indeed Enki seems to have specialized in impregnating his daughters. Enkidu, which means Enki's Creation, found a less problematic home for his potent sperm; he gave it to Gilgamesh. Gilgamesh himself was a randy fellow and tended to screw women at will, especially brides. This two caused problems.
I wondered if the Sumerians had discovered the problems arising from Fathers impregnating their daughters. They certainly knew of the problems generated by powerful oversexed men. The stories possibly were an effort to replace the incest with sex between loving men. When the two men found each other, the land became a better place for all. Both Gilgamesh and Enkidu were oversupplied with male libido and with semen.
Enki was also the water god. They refer to semen flowing from him. In the document I was translating, they saw he diverted to flow to new channels. He switched for his daughters' vaginas to Gilgamesh's rectum. Gilgamesh receives the flow and asks, "Will the life making flow ever end?"
Enkidu answers, "You can drink the flow, swim in the flow, spread it over the land to make it fertile and then fill yourself with the life giving flow."
Enkidu filled Gilgamesh with his flow. It was a flood, but Gilgamesh wanted more. As Enkidu filled Gilgamesh, Enkidu feared he might not have enough left to make the land fertile. He caused Gilgamesh's seed channel to drool, then spurt and finally flow with the life giving fluids. Gilgamesh then refilled Enkidu as Enkidu filled Gilgamesh.
All of this made sense to me. It was a perpetual motion sex machine. The Sumerians were afraid the gods would run out of life giving water or semen. It was up to their followers to replace the seed.
That evening, Otto took me to the haman and Harkan was waiting for me with a small, selected group of men. Otto and the Sheik's men knew what sort of men I liked. There weren't them. They were slight, smooth men. I don't want to suggest they were unpleasant in any way, but just did not excite me.
Otto held me open while Harkan lubricated my hole. He felt and examined my prostate, but did not play with it. The first man had a short cock and a shorter fuse. He shot off seconds after entering me. The second man had a long, but unusually thin cock. He went deep and began to ejaculate. Harkan held him in me and pulled his cock out slowly, ejaculating the whole time. There was one ejaculation per inch of rectum. My entire chute was sperm lubricated now. That was enjoyable.
The third man was a complete change. He was thicker and average length, but seemed to have no drive to ejaculate at all. He liked to thrust at an even pace. It was pleasant, but not inspiring. I became quite relaxed. Harkan became excited. The doctor definitely was my kind of man. He was dark, big, muscular and hairy. He wasn't as big as Ali, the Smith, but he was handsome.
As I thought about Harkan and Ali, I forgot about the man in my ass. My prostate suddenly reminded me of the cock rubbing it. I began to shoot making a real mess. There was sperm everywhere. The three men who had fucked me licked it up.
For the next three days, I returned to the hamam in the evening and Harkan had three more men waiting to fuck me. Each day the men were progressively more attractive. They were all careful and gentle, but I could tell the men were more driven and once they were in my ass, several were genuine man rammers. Harkan was worried I might burst a blood vessel in my brain, but I passed his test with flying colors.
I asked Harkan why there were all new men, not friends. "I something went wrong, your friends could never forgive themselves," he replied. Each night after the trio, I returned to the camp and to my investigation of Gilgamesh's sex life.
Rolf found four more tablets in the same priestly hand. Three dealt with Enkidu and Gilgamesh, the fourth with rituals and the selection of priests. This proved to be interesting, for the priests of the second order were the gatherers. They collected sperm from the men of the city, and at the end of the day transferred the sperm to the priests of the first order, what we would call a high priest.
Young men and fathers were favored. Apparently, they needed the help of Enki the most. If the man was having a problem, his father and brothers could contribute, as could the relatives of the man's wife. In periods of drought, anyone could make a deposit. The king and members of his family bypassed the lower level priests and went to the High Priests directly. Big, strong men were also called in for serious problems, especially if there was danger of attack.
The document mentioned bronze workers, foresters and wrestlers specifically. The must have assumed these men had particularly potent sperm. If the King had a problem with infertility men who had six or more children, we brought in and directly seeded the King.
They mentioned men could let their seed flow into a priest, or they could plow it directly into the dark and warm man womb. This was optional depending on the mood of the priest, but for serious occasions, plowing was the preferred delivery method.
The worship was well worked out and detailed. Ninety percent of the offerings were made to the priests directly. Some offerings were made to the king and his heirs. Gauging from my own experiences, the priests would be been worn out at the end of the day.
Rolf found more tablets that explained more of the details. Rolf couldn't read cuneiform, but he understood how the tablets were made and came to be preserved. Unlike the rest of the area, clay was a basic building material along with mud brick. The Valleys of the Tigris and Euphrates had good clay. You could easily form it into tablets and make inscriptions on the damp clay. You would store these on shelves until they dried. In a temple library the priests would be neatly stack on shelves.
When a city was attacked and destroyed the invaders would take everything of value, but clay tablets had no intrinsic value like gold or precious stones. They remained. Captured cities were usually burned, and the fire would convert the tablets in ceramics as hard as brick.
The wooden shelving would perish in the fires, but if you were a good excavator, you could figure out the arrangement of the tablets before the walls toppled and the roof caved in. Rolf was a good excavator indeed. He knew which tablets sat above, below and beside the good tablets. The tablets to the side consisted of list of sperm donors. These explained the arrangements in detail
For major events, families, clans and guilds selected a representative. After plowing him, that man would plow the priest. This would concentrate the sperm and thus simplify and streamline the offering process. Single persons could make their offering orally, but the group representative always got to plow the ass of a priest. Several of the more important guilds, the bonze workers, masons, and potters could directly plow a high priest. Archers, sling throwers and charioteers made their offerings the ass of the king.
A document explained the army's arrangement in detail. The Archers in a platoon or cohort would fuck their sergeant. He would in turn fuck the Major. Eventually, the commander of the Archers would rear load the king. If one or two of the commanders was particularly effective, he might go with the king to the final ceremony. It was not clear if effectiveness applied to his duties as an archer or as a sexual partner.
I noted it clearly was an honor to be screwed by your men. I assumed this created a close-knit army, since their relations were both of the enlisted man-officer sort, and sexual intimates. The officer carried the sperm of his men. In the same way, the King had intimate relationships with his army officers and with the leaders of his kingdom.
While we would regard being fucked by your men degrading, here it was an honor to take your men's precious seed. It was a gift, not an insult. It also helped to explain the attitude of the Sheik and his men. Ritual sex was both a duty and a pleasure. Enjoyment was an essential part of the ritual. Enki demanded joyful offerings.
On the full moon, solstice or equinox the final ritual featured a massive exchange of sperm. At the events I participated in, the first orgasms met the needs of the creator god. The second or third orgasms were purely for pleasure. I was quite sure the intensity of pleasure affected the quality of the offering. A joyless orgasm was a poor gift.
Otto and Rolf were excited by these findings. They had participates in the rituals so the understood what was going on. Otto pointed out this was a belief affecting only a small kingdom, but it illustrated pagan worship at its cost complex. Each city had its own patron god, in much the same way patron saints protect Catholic cities.
In general, the preferred offering was animals, which were slaughtered and cooked. The gods liked the smell of cooking meat. The priests ate the meat, as did the public on some festival occasions. At some particularly difficult times human sacrifice was needed. The Abraham and Isaac story is a reflection of this.
That night Otto, Rolf and I went to the Haman. Ali the Smith and Harkan were waiting for us. Twelve men fucked me, three at a time for four days. There was no trio tonight. We stripped and went to the steam bath. We washed and relaxed.
Harkan played with my ass and prostate, then he opened my legs for Otto. A warm glow enveloped me as his cock slipped into my ass. his cock was at home there, and it was as if and old friend dropped in to visit.
Rolf was next and Ali followed him. It was lovely. It was also just as intense as I remembered it. Things were restrained at first, but soon it was obvious I wasn't going to break. It got wild and intensely satisfying.
Ali fucked me for fifteen minutes and ended by shooting a load that would have satisfied Enki and Gilgamesh. Ali pulled out and Harkan was in before my ass had a chance to close after talking Ali's thick members. It was Harkan's first visit to my ass, but we both knew it wouldn't be his last.