Expedition to Mesopotamia 1934 8
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, nor for persons who are offended by alternate life styles. This is 100% fantasy, so no effort at safe sex is suggested.
My virgin days were fast vanishing into my past. I still thought of myself as a rather shy and reticent scholar specializing in linguistics and deciphering ancient scripts. An impartial observer might be forgiven for considering me a sex-crazed libertine and spy. Fortunately, being a sex crazed libertine and spy doesn't affect your outward appearance. No one noticed, other than Otto, and my Arab friends. Even they knew only about my sex life.
I hadn't expected to be the stand in for an ancient sperm god, and because of a series of unexpected circumstances, I came to be regarded as a particularly efficacious god. I seemed to bring good luck.
My basic nature was to be agreeable and accommodating. I knew this, but hadn't guessed it extended to accommodating twenty or thirty sex driven men. As a child, I had liked Sunday school, and always was one of the best students. I hadn't even guessed I could be similarly accomplished in Pagan rituals.
After talking with Otto, I admitted to myself not only had I participated in these rituals, I enjoyed them. Apparently, I wasn't susceptible to sexual overload. My ass welcomed the Sheik's cock at the beginning of the ceremony and the last man's cock three hours later with equal enthusiasm.
I admit I enjoyed Rolf, Ali the Sheik's bother, Hamid the Camel drover and Ali the Smith's cocks with a bit more enthusiasm and personal pleasure, but no one was short-changed. Everyone gave me pleasure and I gave as much pleasure as I took.
As soon as I returned to the main camp, I was engaged in translating tablets and inscriptions. Rolf uncovered two separate collections of tablets. He found one batch in the trench that had collapsed and almost killed the Sheik's son. In cleaning out the debris, and widening the trench walls to prevent future collapses, there were perhaps 200 tablets. From the distribution of the tablets, they had been on shelves that had been pushed over or knocked over in a fire. The fire had been hot enough to turn the damp clay into a hard brick like material.
These were in a comparatively early Sumerian writing, but most were financial records, receipts for sales of an olive oil and wine merchant. These were of interest to specialists in ancient economies, but not of general interest.
The stone tablets of Enki, the sperm God were with a group of 300 to 400 tablets that probably had been a temple library. This was odd, since there was no temple mound or ziggurat associated with the library. Otto was looking for traces of this and had no luck. Even a small ziggurat is big, and many, such as the Ziggurat of Ur were huge. It was hard to believe it could have disappeared. Even the most aggressive conqueror could hardly have demolished one without a trace.
Some of the temple tablets gave a record of offerings to the temple and a list of donors. "Nabal gave seed to Enki three times for a good harvest," was a typical record. "Gilgal gave his seed to High Priest Enkiman three times in thanks for his son," was another. This sort of thing was recorded elsewhere, but usually it was more like, "King Any-man-i-pal sacrificed four bulls to Ishtar."
In the Bible God prefers the meat offerings to the grain or seed offerings, as in the story of Cain and Able. In the offering of seed to Enki, it was clear to me the seed offerings were acceptable, and the seed was not agricultural produce.
Seed could refer to the seed of your loins, but this could be either sperm, or the child that resulted from the seed. Spilling your seed could refer to child sacrifice. The story of Isaac and Abraham is a prohibition of Child sacrifice. Christians thought the sin of Onan, spilling his seed on the ground, was a prohibition on masturbation. This was almost certainly incorrect. Given the dangers of childbirth, women certainly needed periods of rest between pregnancies.
If Enki's worship required gifts of man seed to replenish the fertility god's supply, spilling seed referred to wasting it rather than giving it to the creator god. Male and female temple prostitutes were a well-known part of ancient Middle Eastern worship. Prostitute was almost certainly the wrong word. Could the "prostitutes" have been priests who received sperm offering for the gods?
After my experiences here, I could easily visualize a young father going to a temple to make a sperm offering in the ass of a priest of Enki. This would certainly make both the priest and the sperm donor happy.
It would also explain some of the puritanical aspects of Hebrew religion. They strongly rejected the religious practiced of other mid-eastern religions. Sumerian priests worshiped their gods naked. Thus, the Israelites had a horror of nudity. Sex was an intrinsic part of many religious activities. The Israelites rejected this completely.
I was pondering these connections when I came back to earth and had to deal with our Nazi's. Horst Grubberfeld and Maximilian were difficult men. Grubberfeld was much more courteous to the Arab's publicly, but he was a true and rabid anti-Semite. He saw them as lesser Semites, the children of Tamar, and thus at least half-Jewish.
In his heart, he hated Arabs, but loved their oil. He did enjoy sex with Arian men such as Guttman and especially Frederick, a Prussian nobleman. Horst was a member of the elite SS and disliked Bergman, who had been a SA member. Bergman he shunned. I think Horst may have lusted after Rolf, but Rolf's ancestry wasn't good enough. Horst was shocked and appalled at the thought of sex with an Arab. He was friendly with high status Arab's, but dismissive of the lower class he called Camel Jockeys.
Unfortunately, for him, he couldn't tell the difference between the two classes. We paid well and some of the diggers were in the clans of the Arab Grandees. A digger might be a second son of a cousin twice removed, but he was family. To dishonor him was to dishonor all.
When Rolf, Otto, Bergmann and I saved Hamid, the Sheik's son, in the trench collapse we established ourselves as good men in the Arabs' eyes. A laborer collapsed with heat prostration and Horst did nothing to help the man. He didn't even call for help. It was as if an insect was dying. Otto and Rolf came to the rescue, but they were too late. Otto's status rose since he was both a compassionate man and a scholar. I made a cash gift to the widow. It was fifty pounds and was regarded as a fortune. I had been away from the camp during the incident, but I wanted to help. In the odd way things work in that part of the world, my gift was a sign of special favor and the widow was able to re marry.
After Donnat's disastrous and fatal trip into the desert, Horst Grubberfeld had agents come to him at our camp. The Nazis very much excluded me from conversations in the camp, but I got closer to Otto, Rolf and Richard. I did spend most of my days in the camp deciphering tables while everyone else was in the dig itself.
Horst Grubberfeld and Max's room was under guard, but under Arab guard. There were not enough Arians in our group to do guard duty. Grubberfeld assumed the guards were under his command and thus would obey him. God works in mysterious ways. Given a choice between a nasty Nazi martinet, and a compassionate Englishman who was possible a representative on earth of the creator, the Guards had an easy choice. They also saw Donnat's death at the hands of the bandits as a clear indication of divine disfavor for the Nazis. I had free access to any room in the camp.
There were a number of locked drawers in Grubberfeld's office, but he left out a map showing a planned route for oil from Mesopotamia to Germany through Turkey, Bulgaria, Romania and then through Czechoslovakia. This struck me as foolish since the Czechs would hardly allow that to happen. That indicates just how unaware I was of Hitler's actual intentions. I also noted an unexplained blue line that included Germany, Poland, Austria, Czechoslovakia, the Low Countries and parts of France. By 1939, I realized that was the boundary of Greater Germany. At t eh time I assumed it marked a sphere of influence.
We had a visit from Professor Paul DeReuter of the University of Utrecht. He was working on a cuneiform dictionary. He was interested in the weather in Midlothian. The Royal Dutch Shell Corporation financed his visit. There was a much closer relationship between the British and Dutch intelligence operations than I had understood.
Paul was greatly interested in the maps. He seemed to know of the maps existence, but not the details. I have a very good memory and parts of the proposed oil route were a surprise to him. He seemed shocked when I mentioned the Netherlands was on the German side of the blue line. He understood its significance. We talked about European politics. "Albert of the Belgians died earlier this year," he remarked. "The new King Leopold III is an unknown." Albert was a hero of the Great War.
"How is King George doing?"
"Officially, he is well, unofficially he continues to decline," Paul said. "I doubt he will make more than a year or two. If Leopold of the Belgians is an unknown, the Prince of Wales is rather too well known." I told him Guttman knew the Prince. Paul realized the knowing was in the biblical sense, not a casual acquaintance. "Guttman is into domination and humiliation," I said. "He is not an attractive man, other than physically."
"The Prince's current mistress is a piece of work," Paul said. "She's much further down the food chain than his previous women."
While Paul was a spy, he was also a brilliant linguist and our finds excited him. He also helped me with translations of several texts.
Paul was Dutch, but could easily have passed for a Viking Chief. Horst tried to recruit him for the Arian Master Race, but Paul would have none of that. The Nazi also wanted to bed him, but Paul was all-top, and that wasn't on Horst's agenda.
Rolf was very much on Paul's list. Paul was a bit bigger than Rolf was, but they were similar otherwise. Paul also got along well with Otto. The four of us were together in the tablet room of the camp and Paul saw the Enki stone tablets. He could read the inscriptions. He knew about similar sperm cults in New Guinea, and in the primitive parts of the Dutch East Indies. As we talked, it became clear his knowledge of the cults was not just academic; he had participated.
Paul was a manly specimen, and would have been a near perfect model for Wotan. Apparently, his East Indian aboriginals saw him the same way. With his pink skin and golden hair, he was their ideal for their creator-sun god. They interpreted his gold hair as the sun's rays emanating from his body. He had been willing to take tribal sperm.
A new moon was a week away so we decided to test the waters by taking Paul to the Hamam. The steam bath would be a good test of his flexibility and adaptability. He wanted to participate in the rituals, but Otto and I didn't want to bring a man who wasn't adaptable. Paul was a professed to be a top and the rituals required a more open and inclusive approach to sexual activity.
Hamid and Abdullah, the Sheik's sons, had seen Paul around the dig and knew he was a masculine man. I told Hamid we would be visiting the bath. I was interested in seeing who would visit us there.
Ali, the Sheik's brother, was there as were Hamid and Abdullah along with their friends. It was a younger crowd. Many had been with Ali in the attack on the bandits, so these men were the Sheik's personal guard. Ali the Smith was there, he was making swords and daggers for the Sheik now. In battle, they used rifles, but the swords were status indicators, and the guard was getting larger.
Paul caused a stir. His golden hair was most unusual and distinctive, his physique was impressive and he was fully erect the second he stripped. He sported a thick seven inches of man meat that curved slightly downward. Paul was entirely at ease and comfortable hard.
If anyone wanted to find a way to make friends quickly, Paul had found it. All the younger men responded to the visual stimulation by getting hard. He spoke Arabic and was both out going and friendly. I think everyone would have gone to Paul if all things were equal. Everyone was polite and shared their attentions. Rolf was impressive, muscular and with white hair. Otto and I were the least attractive men there, but they thought I was a semi-god, and Otto was an older man and a Scholar. Simple politeness required they honor such a man.
Ali motioned to his nephews, Hamid and Abdullah, to go to me and attend to my cock. He motioned to another young man to come to him to get him erect. From that time forward the room subdivided into clusters of men, focused on Ali or one of the four Europeans.
The young men were excited, as were we. I found out this was the first time they had participated in an event like this. They enjoyed it. Young, spunk filled men had a lot to enjoy.
I came to a new understanding as Hamid slowly eased his cock into my ass. I had thought it was remarkable that so many men had homosexual urges. Then I realized this was not homosexual sex. It was sex between men, but most of these men would marry and have children. Sharing pleasure with a male friend was perfectly acceptable here. Women were locked away and only available after protracted negotiations with the woman's family. Men were willing, available and fun.
Donating your sperm to please the creator god was also acceptable, and not homosexual in the western sense. Offering your manly fluids to please the god was a required duty. The men with us were doing their part to insure good crops and fertile stock. That being said, the creator god in his divine wisdom certainly designed a form of worship designed to please. On one seemed to show any reluctance to join in the fun.
I soon saw Paul going to Ali and sucking the man's member. Ali was sitting so Paul was on his hands and knees. Paul made no effort to clench his ass; it was wide open. Hamid pulled out of me and went to Paul. Hamid's organ must have been a good fit, and Paul took it without effort or any sign of discomfort. He would have no problem at the full-scale ritual at the full moon.
Ali the Smith came over to me with two younger men. When I said no one showed reluctance, I had noticed some men were shy. Ali explained these men were unsure what was acceptable. Ali had taken them under his wing. They were afraid to come to me. Ali lifted my legs and entered me. He then pulled out and held me open for them. One of the men nosed his flared head into my ass. He twitched as squirted sperm into my ass lips.
"That's it my friend, fill him up!" Ali said. The young man did as he was told, and his twitching cock plowed into my ass. I squeezed my sphincter on his spewing cock and I saw his eyes roll back into his head. He pulled out and by then his shy friend was more than willing. He possessed a big knob on a curved, thin shaft. I couldn't tell if it was beginners luck or if he were more experienced than he said, but he played with my sphincter and prostate to great effect.
I looked around the room and saw Otto with a young man stretching his hole, and Paul was firmly skewered on Ali, the Sheik's brother's massive cock. He was wiggling his ass to massage Ali's organ and increase the pressure on his own prostate. Paul sat on the organ with his back to Ali, and his legs spread wide so everyone could see Ali's bull balls and his own drooling member. It was available for anyone's use. There was a line waiting to suck the blond man's cock. Paul wasn't new to man sex.
When we returned to the camp, Paul had a message he was needed in Basra, and the next morning he left the camp. He told me he would do his best to get back for another visit to the baths.
I never met any of Horst's visitors other than to say hello, but I was much more uneasy about them, than I was with Guttman and Donnat's associates. I knew Donnat's associates were spies and agents and a few may well have been assassins, but they were somewhat like the spies one encounters in novels. Some were seedy, some were urbane, and but all could pass in society.
Grubberfeld's new visitors were thugs and ruffians. These men were definitely not secret agents. There wasn't a guard, doorman or butler in Mesopotamia who would allow them to enter. Indeed, I doubt they could enter any respectable house. There was something wrong with these men, and you could tell.
I assumed these me were bandits who would be used to murder a man in a dark alley. I knew Hitler used ruffians to intimidate his opponents. Perhaps Grubberfeld was planning to generate trouble in the streets.
The day Grubberfeld and Guttman went to Baghdad to visit the German consul the Sheik visited the dig. The dig was on his territory and like any sensible man; he visited to make sure everything was as it should be. If anything of monetary value were discovered, he would get a share. He had no interest in tablets, although he did understand the scholarly import.
He toured the site with Otto and the crew. I remained in my tablet room, working on decipherments. A member of the Sheik's bodyguard stayed with me. "Are you hiring additional men?" he asked. "I have seen strangers around the dig. I hope our men are satisfactory?" Of course, he knew his men were satisfactory. The Sheik's own sons worked with us and certainly reported our activities.
"No we have hired no one new and your men are excellent workers," I said. "Otto told me they are among the best he has employed. He is very happy."
"The Sheik will be most pleased," the man said. "We did not get the impression these were men who would be very useful on a scholarly expedition such as yours. I believe they were dealing with Herr Donnat's replacement?"
"I have seen some rather rough looking men with him," I said. "Herr Grubberfeld does not confide in me."
"Might these men be a danger to our people?"
"I do not know that," I said. "If I knew there was a problem, I would tell you. You have been kind to us."
"You are suspicious?"
"I can't say that, since I do not know," I replied. "If you were to make that assumption out of an excess of caution that would seem reasonable to me."
"I understand," he said as he left. Grubberfeld had made the greatest mistake a spy could make. He had been noticed. The Sheik didn't like strangers and foreigners. Otto, Rolf and I were scrupulously polite with them. I certainly played any role he wished in furthering his own domestic politics. I did what he asked and rarely asked for anything in return. Grubberfeld brought strangers into the Sheik's territory, unwelcome strangers.
Grubberfeld and Guttman returned the next day. Two days later Gunter Bergman disappeared and a day later, an Arab found his body. Someone had beaten him to death. I wouldn't say I liked Bergman, but I didn't expect this at all. Bergman was a street thug who picked the right horse. He was crude and uncouth, but he was primarily an opportunist. He used violence as a means to an end, not as a recreational activity. He was the only Nazi to connect with the Arabs.
Grubberfeld put on a great show of anger at the Arabs. Albert, his servant, was desolate, but he was an emotional man. As his role as then camp medic grew, his role as a valet diminished. Albert was his own man now. Guttman was very disturbed. I saw him looking at Horst with concern several times. Guttman was very much not an emotional man. He was worried.
Bergman was a SA man. The SA was a band of thugs and ruffians who did Hitler's dirty work. They had been brutally purged earlier this year; there had been rivalry between the SA and the SS. Grubberfeld was a SS member.
A week later thugs attacked me. I was walking from the camp to the dig and three men appeared out of nowhere. They threw me to the ground, and kicking me in the side and face. The Sheik's bodyguard appeared and saved the day. I was unconscious. The guard carried me to the sheik's compound.
I woke up the nest day in great pain. I thought I was hurt quite badly, Albert said it was mostly broken ribs, painful, but not usually not fatal. Internal injuries were his worry, but if I was, still things should heal. "The concussion was bad, but you survived the worst of that," Albert said as he left.
Everyone was quite solicitous, except for Grubberfeld and Max, his henchman. They made a visit to my bedside, but had a hard time even pretending to be concerned. The British commissioner visited me. The Honorable Randolph Bittern was the fourth son of an Earl and was of much the same social status as me.
"Did you recognize any of the men?" he asked.
"No, it was very fast," I said. "They weren't local."
"How do you know that?"
"I know most of the local men, and I know the way they dress," I said. "Have they caught the men?"
"Oh yes," Randolph replied. "They caught them and dismembered them. I rather hoped to be able to question them. I spoke with the sheik's headman. Ali is it? He seemed to think they were dogs who deserved to die and it was a pity they died so quickly. My Adjutant told me they did not have a quick death by our standards. Apparently, they ate their own severed genitals at some point before the end. Is there a chance they were covering up their own involvement?"
"None."
"That is my Adjutants judgment too," Randolph's replied. He looked at me. "This hot weather is beastly; you must miss the cold rains of Midlothian."
"I'm getting use to it," I said. "I don't think the attack was related to my hobby directly. Some persons might be offended I am English."
"You're a Scot, aren't you?" the honorable Randolph replied.
"That is a subtlety they don't see."
"I take it you are rather the Sheik's pet?"
"I helped save his son's life," I replied. "In their minds there are obligations."
"Oh yes, there would be," Randolph replied. "As you well know, our control over this area is more a polite fiction than a reality. If that man Ali found out something important he would deal with it?"
"I think he would,"
"Would his Majesties' Government be embarrassed?"
"I rather doubt anyone would know," I replied. "He is all together more subtle than the ruffians who attacked me."
"The punishment didn't strike me a subtle," Randolph observed. "A Herr Bergman died in this area too?"
"One event was deeply offensive to the Sheik, and second event was beyond the pale. The deaths of my attackers are a warning sign to any unworthy men who might try it again."
"Very good then, I hope you recover quickly," Randolph said as he left. "I would shake your hand, but I gather that sort of movement is uncomfortable for you.
"I appreciate the consideration," I replied. "I am safe here. By the way, if you had some access to medicines, they would be appreciated by the Sheik."
"His Majesty's government can be generous to those who are so solicitous of his subjects' welfare," he replied. I fell asleep and woke several days later. I had trouble with blurred vision but eventually I made out a dark face wearing a turban. It wasn't an Arab turban; it was an Indian Turban.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"Sir William, you are awake and coherent, very good," the man looked like an Indian, but he sounded Scots I wondered if I was that coherent. "I am Dr. Harkan Singh. Sir Randolph sent me here to deliver some medicines and instruct on their usage. I found you in a rather precarious state, and I spent some time drilling a hole into to your skull. With great success, it seems."
"I feel rotten."
"That you feel at all is the good thing. You had a hemorrhage. If we hadn't relieved the pressure you would be dead," he explained. "I was educated at the University of Edinburgh. You may have guessed I originally came from Lahore in India. You must rest. There will be great celebration here that you are with us again."
I wanted to ask him more, but I fell into a deep sleep. He was still there the next morning when I woke. He was with Albert and the Imam giving them instructions on the medicines he brought. Otto and Rolf were translating Dr. Singh's instructions. Actually, Rolf was translating it into German and Otto translated the German into Arabic.
The room was filled with men. There were two Imams I didn't know, but I assumed they were doctors. Ali the Smith was guarding the door with a sword and a fierce look on his face. Two men attended to me. One man bathed me in water and the other fanned me. I felt cool and comfortable.
Harkan Singh seemed to get along with everyone in spite of the language differences.