Date: Tue, 4 Oct 2011 03:51:35 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Catfish Visits a Castle 5

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.