Date: Sat, 13 Nov 2010 11:26:13 -0800 (PST)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Expedition to Mesopotamia 9

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.