Catfish Visits a Castle 5 By Bald Hairy Man
This is a story for adult men. It depicts gay sex. If this offends or bothers you, DO NOT READ IT. It is a fantasy and is not a sex manual, or a discussion of safe sex. If you have, any comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com
Sometimes I think I must be at the high end of the scale of hornyness in men. I seem to be always ready and always willing. I didn't think Phil was a near the top of the scale at all, but he wanted Bruno.
Some men are all gay and others are all straight. Most seem to be a mixture of the two preferences. When I saw Phil and Bruno together, I knew it was true love. Phil wasn't turned on by men; he was turned on by a man, Bruno. Bruno was much more sexually flexible than Phil was, but it was clear Phil was all he wanted in a man. Playing cupid isn't my strong suit. I tend to look for sex more than love, but I did what I could for Phil and Bruno.
I'm afraid, given my druthers, I would have liked to tell them to get naked and fuck like rabbits and then decide if it was true love. That probably would have been the wrong approach for Phil. Fortunately, the Castle's fuel tanks had non-standard connections. The fill hole was undersized.
When the nozzle was slightly out of alignment, it would spray diesel fuel all over the place. Phil was careful, but the tanker's pumps didn't produce constant pressure, and the nozzle began to spray coating Phil in diesel fuel.
Phil reacted quickly, but he was drenched. I had some stuff to clean oil off, but his clothes were ruined. My clothes wouldn't fit him, but Bruno ran to the castle to get something for him to wear. They were about the same size. When Bruno returned Phil was still in the shower.
Bruno was no fool and he knew when God made his face to shine upon him. He joined Phil in the shower, and helped him get diesel fuel out of the hard to reach places. Bruno was both helpful and lucky. A cynical person might say it was unlikely fuel got into Phil's cum channel, but Bruno was thorough and genuinely helpful. The body contact was exciting for both men, and when Bruno used the old-fashioned taste test to see if the oil was off Phil's cock, Phil was in heaven. Bruno went the extra mile and got Phil to do a sperm flush of his genital system.
Sometimes I'm cynical, but I do enjoy watching a man have top-of-the-line orgasm. Phil did everything but shoot out a few internal organs as part of the orgasm. Phil wasn't a talker, but we all knew it was as good as it could get.
It took a while to clean up after the fuel tank malfunction and that gave them a chance to play. After the first day they progressed to 69ing and trading their special sauce. I was sure Phil had never drunk from a man spigot before, but I had a strong feeling Bruno's man seed would really hit the spot. They were perfect together. I guessed once Bruno took Phil's man seed, Phil would return the favor. Phil might not have been a natural born cocksucker, but he had a sense of fair play.
If I'm not much of a cupid, I am even less of a romantic. A candle lit room, with a fire and champagne may be nice, but I would like it better if my cock was in my playmate's ass giving his prostate a buff and shine, followed by a soothing sperm bath. Fortunately, Phil was no more of a romantic than I was. Lighting all those candles could take time. They got down to basics and made do with a half hour. I'm not sure Phil would ever be able to ever say he was in love with Bruno, but he was able to say it in sperm. That's better than flowers in my book.
Bruno turned me on, but I didn't think Phil was into sharing. You don't get everything you want in life. Phil and Bruno got what they needed and that was good enough for me.
I had a chance to relax. Things were moving along at a good pace and going well. I thought things would be resolved in a few days. The situation in the castle was getting clearer. There were two schemes. One was to scam Trixie of as much money as possible, and another scheme involving drugs. I should have known it was going too well.
Things became much more complex that night when I heard a woman screaming from the castle. From years of living in an urban townhouse neighborhood in Richmond, I knew the difference between a playful scream, a frightened scream and a scream of pure terror and fright. I knew this was the later.
I raced to the house. The screaming was almost siren like. I ran up the stairs toward the direction of the scream. It came from Trixie's room. Through an open door, I saw Ferdinand on the floor in a pool of blood. It was more like a lake of blood; there was blood everywhere. Trixie was holding a bloody knife screaming. I walked around the pool. Someone or several people had walked through the pool and tracked blood everywhere. Oddly, Trixie was standing in area that was comparatively bloodless. She was wearing high heels.
"Why don't you drop the knife? You don't want the knife do you?" I said calmly. Trixie dropped the knife.
"Why is he here?" she asked. "What a mess." She was staring blankly into space. I didn't think she had any real idea what had happened. I wasn't sure if she was screaming about the body or the blood. Trixie was either drugged out of her mind, or in shock. She didn't move. She just stood and stared into space. I guided her away from the gore.
I looked at the body. Someone had stabbed Ferdinand multiple times and slashed his throat. He was very dead. Sheila, Dugan and two other women appeared. Dugan had a baseball bat. He was prepared.
"Should we call the police?" Sheila asked. "There's been an accident." She was out of it too. She walked into the room and stepped in some of the blood. She seemed to notice something sticky on her shoes, but nothing else registered. I told her to call the cops.
"Take Mrs. DeMont to another room," I told the other women. "Get her away from his room." I guided Trixie around the bloody pool. They all obeyed. I expected hysterics. Frankly, I was pretty queasy myself. The place had the look of a second rate slasher movie. It was as if the director selected second-rate actors, but doubled the budget for fake blood.
"It is a mess!" Dugan said. "Should I clean it up? It's going to be a bitch to clean up after it dries."
"Maybe you should wait for the police?" I suggested.
He looked sheepish. He looked at the body. "What in hell happened here? It's not an accident, is it?" he said as he looked at the bloody mess. "Damn, there is some heavy shit going on here."
"An accident seems very unlikely," I replied. No one seemed to be thinking right. Conroy appeared. He looked at the scene and threw up. Dugan took him away. From their conversation it was clear Conroy was drunk and wasn't capable of dealing with the situation.
It took a long while for the police to arrive. Of course, we had police next to the Castle, but they were undercover. That they stayed undercover worried me. It had to be a big operation they were after if a murder was not important enough for them to get involved. I stayed by the murder scene to make sure no one altered any evidence. No one approached the bedroom. No one was willing to deal with the situation.
The police arrived in a forest service helicopter. The copter had been surveying the storm damage and thus was available for the cops.
When the copter landed, I saw my old friend Calhoun and Leo, the Sheriff, get out along with a trooper or two. Calhoun saw me, did a double take and quickly switched to his poker face. He knew I was on a job and didn't want to blow my cover. I took them to the Castle and gave then a quick, but complete rundown.
The castle wasn't in their jurisdiction, but the storm had overwhelmed the local authorities, so they were called in to help. Officially, they were deputies. Sheila came to greet them, but I think she either must have been high or have taken a sedative. She was matter of fact about the body in Trixie's bedroom.
I assumed Ferdinand was a friend of hers, but she didn't seem to care. I asked her where Trevor, her husband, was. She didn't know and Trevor was nowhere to be found. The sheriff told her to go to her room while he looked over the scene. He told me to stay in case he needed something.
"The body isn't the only thing that is odd here, is it?" Calhoun asked, "What planet is she on?"
"There are DEA agents at the entrance," I whispered to him. "There is some heavy duty dealing going on here."
"The knife was in Mrs. DeMont's hand when you came in?" the Leo asked.
I nodded. "I think they keep her in a more or less permanent drug induced haze," I said. "The knife was in her hand, but she had no blood on her clothes that I could see. The room is a mess of bloody footprints. Most of them were there when I came on scene. Sheila walked through it, but she was the only one. There is no way Trixie could have done anything related to the death that wouldn't have covered her in blood. I think someone must have handed her the knife. It's possible she saw something, but she needs to get somewhere safe."
"Protective custody?" he asked. I suggested I might call Mrs. Smith and get Trixie to the University Hospital. I explained why I was there.
"Damn, you have been moving in some pretty elevated circles," the Sheriff replied. "Mrs. Smith knows something about this?"
"She knows nothing other than something is wrong here," I said. "She's a personal friend of Mrs. DeMont. She can get her the help she needs. It would be good if no one mentions Mrs. Smith."
The Sheriff and Calhoun had a nice county bumpkin air to them, but they knew their stuff. I made the call to Mrs. Smith and the Sheriff called the crime lab. A med-evac copter and full medical team were at the castle an hour later. They took Trixie off to the University Hospital. Sheila halfheartedly tried to stop it, but the Sheriff was firm and in command. Sheila was still out of it. The copter was to go to the Hospital and then return with the medical examiner's team.
Trevor was missing. Conroy had vanished after throwing up and the house staff members were all out of it with the notable exception of the kitchen staff. Dugan and Bruno were fine. When the troopers came, I went back to minding the generators. The real cops were in charge.
My head was spinning. I checked on the generators and decided to take a quick nap. I was in my bed two hours later when Calhoun came by with a trooper friend of his and asked if they could crash. They had been up for over 24 hours because of the storm and the Sheriff insisted they get some sleep.
I said that was no problem. I had a couch and there was room for two in the bed. They were exhausted but keyed up and excited. They got naked and both joined me in bed. It took perhaps as long as two minutes to realize that Calhoun and the trooper, Dwayne, were more than just pals. Dwayne was young, but more than willing. Calhoun went for my cock so I took care of Dwayne. I almost got whiplash Dwayne's cock got so hard so fast. He had a nice, average size cock, but oversized balls. Two minutes after I deep throated him the first time, he gave me a filling late night snack of man custard.
I popped too and Calhoun did a nice imitation of a man dying of thirst in the desert who finds an oasis. We broke apart for a few seconds, but instead of going to sleep, we just rearranged ourselves and went at it again. This time I took Calhoun's special brew and Dwayne sucked me. Usually it takes a while to build up a big load after a top of the line orgasm, but not this night. Three minutes later, we had a second round of orgasms. I fell asleep licking up the last dribbles of Calhoun's orgasm.
I woke at 6:00 the next morning feeling refreshed and relaxed. Calhoun was snoring up a storm, but Dwayne had cuddled up to me. His back was to me, but his ass was at my cock. I got hard and gently probed his rear entrance. The third or fourth time I probed my cock head slipped into a dark warm place. I didn't know if Dwayne had already lubricated his ass, or if I had oozed enough precum to make it an easy entrance. Dwayne whimpered a little.
"Do you want it all?" I whispered. He answered me by relaxing his ass. I slid all the way into his love tunnel. As soon as the last inch of my cock was in him, he tightened his sphincter. Dwayne was muscular and had buns of steel. I didn't actually fuck him; I just jiggled a little. That was enough. He popped and his constricting ass felt great. I rear loaded him.
"Dwayne, you've been holding out on me," Calhoun said. "I didn't know you bottomed." He wasn't mad; he had just discovered Dwayne had some unexpected skills. We got up and dressed. Outside there was activity everywhere. I had slept so soundly I didn't even hear an additional copter bringing more police to the Castle.
That morning things rapidly took a turn for the worse. Dallas and the boys had gone to work. It was business as usual for them. The events in the castle didn't impinge on them. They found Trevor hanging from a tree a half mile from the Castle. They cut him down, loaded him in a wheelbarrow and then brought him to the Castle.
Sheila saw them walking across the lawn and went to see what was up. She lost it completely. She didn't recognize her husband's face at first. It was badly distorted by the hanging. She had what appeared to be a near total breakdown. A female deputy tried to help but they eventually had to send her off to a hospital. I made sure it wasn't Trixie's hospital. In the back of my mind, I thought was a chance she was faking it as a way to get to Trixie again.
I later found out I didn't need to worry about that. Mrs. Smith had Trixie firmly in her grasp and had the best medical help available helping her. No one would get through without Mrs. Smith's personal approval. Mrs. Smith was one of those women who weren't exactly bossy, but she always got her way. Unlike some commanding women, she also had good instincts. Her concerns about Trixie were based on a slender reed, but she was right. There was something way out of whack at the castle.
"The medical examiner is coming in from Charlottesville," Calhoun said. "The Troopers are sending the mobile lab from Richmond. They have opened I-64 to the Parkway from the east."
Phil made a delivery of oil for the generators and I introduced him to the Sheriff and Calhoun. We had a nice discussion next to the pump.
"I assume the hope was to make it look as if Trevor committed suicide after killing Ferdinand," I said. "He must have been either dead or drugged before he hanged himself."
"This doesn't make much sense. If Trevor killed Ferdinand, and tried to frame Trixie, there was no need to fake a suicide. If Trevor killed Ferdinand and committed suicide, there would be no need to frame Trixie," the Sheriff said. "I wondered if there were two persons or groups of people involved who were both trying to cover up the murder, but were unaware of the other group's efforts."
The murders added a few more layers of complexity to the situation at the castle than I expected. I thought we were just about to rescue Mrs. DeMont and close in on the drug dealers. Suddenly we were in a much more complicated situation.
"I'm all but convinced Mrs. DeMont had nothing to do with the murder," I said. "Given the state I found her in, there was damn little chance she could have remembered that she had a knife in her hand long enough to stab a man. Ferdinand was a big man. He easily could have gotten it away from her or knocked the knife from her hands. I told her to drop the knife and she did. Ferdinand could have done the same thing."
"I agree," Calhoun said. "There were buckets of blood in the room. Trixie had almost no blood on her. The pattern of blood on the floor indicated the dead man was spurting blood. The blood must have covered the murderer. There are no footprints of high heels. The forensic group has a month of two of work to do on the footprints. Calhoun has already been checking shoes."
"Well, Trixie is safe in the University Hospital now, but the scheme I uncovered here at the Castle was complex before the murders. With embezzlement, sexual passions and drug dealing involved, everyone could be a suspect."
"Did you think murder was in the cards?" the sheriff asked.
"It didn't occur to me," I admitted.
"Murders are a commonplace event in the world of drug dealers and especially the cartels," Phil said. "They aren't opposed to gruesome deaths either."
"Aren't we dealing with Hillbilly Heroin here?" Calhoun asked. "They don't go in for Mexican or Columbian levels of violence. I think they like running a guy off a back road into a tree. "
It was possible the sexual situation in the castle was at the center of the murder. However, as I thought more about that, it seemed unlikely. I suspected Ferdinand and Trevor used the women in the house as a harem. Either one of them, or one of their partners could have become jealous of the other's relationships and snapped. Much of the staff seemed drugged. I didn't know if the men had a relationship with other women in the house. While Ferdinand's death was a possible crime of passion, Trevor's wasn't. It was hard to see a maid getting Trevor to hang himself.
Suddenly just before ten in the morning we had electricity again. That was just when I needed to deal with a problem with the boys. The boys found Trevor's body, but the police had scared them.
The Chief asked me if they might have done it. I told him probably not, but that if the police did things the wrong way they could easily get a confession out of them. They were easily led and could as easily get confused. They might confess to please their questioners or just assume they had done something wrong. They had no idea they were in a serious situation. He understood. The Sheriff let Calhoun and me work with the boys to see if we could get them to give a coherent story.
The boys were in hot water for taking down the body, but the sheriff understood. "Could they be convicted in a court of law?" he asked.
"Not even in Texas," I replied. Calhoun was unexpectedly good with the boys. He was in no rush and was relaxed. Dallas was helpful and showed him where they found Trevor. Since they had no imagination they told him exactly what they found. They all also wore the same construction type, steel toe boots and their tracks came from the woods, not the Castle.
Calhoun found prints coming from the Castle in the wet ground. These were not Trevor's footprints. He wore high style Italian shoes with leather soles. The prints coming from the Castle were rubber soles with a deep tread.
One of the Troopers had told Dallas it was wrong to cut Trevor down. Calhoun told them there was no way they could have known it was wrong.
"You couldn't just leave him hanging there," Dallas said. "That's not right."
"I understand," Calhoun said. "I don't blame you. I might have done the same thing. You could help me a lot if you told me if you saw anything."
"We saw him hanging from the tree!" Johnny said. "He was dead."
"Did you see anyone else there?" I asked.
"There was a guy in the woods. He ran away," Jimmy said.
"Did he work at the Castle?" Calhoun asked. Jimmy shook his head.
"No, he ran away from us as we came up." Jimmy said. "He had a Yankee's jacket. He ran down the hill." Baseball jackets were rare and Yankee's jackets all but unknown in this part of Virginia. Atlanta was the preferred team.
After an hour, we got what we could get from the boys. They hadn't seen the face of the man, but they knew he wasn't working at the Castle. They knew who wore what clothes and didn't recognize the clothes of the man. There wasn't a uniform for Castle employees, but jeans and plaid shirts were common. The man in the Yankee's jacket was wearing baggy polyester pants. Jimmy thought they looked like rainwear.
At noon, the police found Conroy sleeping in a ditch. They first thought they had found another body, but soon smelled the booze on his breath. They tried to question him without much success. They also questioned the security men. Most cops can smell an ex con from miles away, so the security staff didn't impress them much.
The night before the man who was supposed to put out the kitchen trash failed to do so. Dugan checked it out and discovered the food had been doctored. Someone had drugged the food that went to the castle staff after it left the kitchen. Most nights the castle had fancier food than the grounds and security staff. That night everyone shared the same menu, lasagna.
The kitchen, security and the boys were unaffected, but the Castle group got the doctored food. Dugan could smell the difference. That eliminated any potential that the deaths were a spur of the moment crime of passion. It also meant the perpetrator knew the Castle staff didn't mix with the outdoor staff.
That night Calhoun and Dwayne returned to sleep in my room. Dwayne brought a trooper friend with them, Larry. I guess you could say Larry was pledging our fraternity. While he wasn't experienced, he was willing to learn.
Dwayne had described me in glowing terms to Larry. Actually, he didn't describe me as much as he described a part of me. Larry was a novice size queen. Larry was 25 year old, but looked like a middle-aged man from a distance. He was beefy, pink, blond and bald already. He was better looking naked than dressed. What looked like a middle-aged paunch was solid muscle. Larry was built like a brick. He had broad shoulders, a broad chest, a broad waist and matching hips. It was all solid but graceless muscle. If he failed as a trooper, he could be a human battering ram.
He was also country. Fortunately, he was hard working, knows how to get things done and smarter than he looks country. He wasn't your modern, drives his truck too fast and drinks a lot of beer country. Larry and I got along well.