Date: Mon, 15 Dec 2003 16:36:50 -0800 (PST)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Private Journal 2

The Private Journal of Dr. Alexander MacAfee

Part 2

by Bald Hairy Man

This is an adult gay story intended for adult gay men.  If you are offended
by this or are not an adult, gay or a man, DON'T READ IT.  It has lot of
sex between adult men, many of whom are older, hairy, bearded, and in this
case of several different races.  If this offends you, DON'T READ IT.  If
you have any comments send them to bldhrymn@aol.com or bldhrymn@yahoo.com.

Our first problem was to get Williams in better shape. He began to shiver
when he got in the Chieftain's lodge. It was slightly cooler than the
outside, but only slightly.  I went to help him.  The Chieftain saw
Williams was in distress and called in a witch doctor. I couldn't tell if
it was the loss of his wife, the bad sunburn or the capture by head-hunters
which was the cause of Williams' problem.

The Witch Doctor took him away; I wanted to go with him, but the Chieftain
would have nothing to do with that. I sat on a great chair while the other
leaders sat in a circle. The chair was decorated with severed heads, some
old and leather like, and cocks.  Some were old and shrunken; others were
new, still covered in caked blood.  Men came in and paid respect to me.
The younger men prostrated themselves on the floor and chanted
something. The older ones bowed at me and slithered forward toward me, as
if they were afraid.  I had been brought up to rise when older men entered
the room, so I stood.

I was distressed to see I still retained my erection.  The older men bowed
and licked my cock head, then scurried away.  As luck would have it, this
was exactly what the aborigines wanted.  I got use to the licking, which, I
have to admit, did nothing to reduce my erection.

It's not as easy becoming a Great White God as one might think.  I had
fallen into a schoolboy's fantasy.  The penny dreadfuls were full of
stories of foreign adventure and well meaning men of stout heart.  They
triumph over a primitive people and bring to them the blessing of British
rule and Christianity.

As far as I know, none of these stories hinge on the size and configuration
of the genitals of the hero.  Perhaps the hero might marry the beautiful
and exotic princess.  Never do they encounter several hundred stark naked
head hunters, who have a warm spot for the god's cock and more particularly
for the seed in his balls.

My background in philosophy and ethnology did nothing to prepare me for
this.  I went to schools in Scotland, aided by private tutors.  I seemed to
have missed all the education in boy sex that seems to accompany English
Public School education.  I had no idea what to do.

Fortunately Ransom had some quite clear ideas about the way I should act.
He stayed at my side and gave advice, all good, as it turned out. When the
ceremony was done, we were left alone and I had a chance to talk with him.

"I feel out of my element.  I have no idea what they expect of me." I
said. "I am totally unprepared."  Ransom told me, I overstated my
weaknesses.  "You must know you handled the Chieftain perfectly.  You
couldn't have done a better job."

"It was accidental." I protested.

"Maybe you are a natural cock god." he said, smiling at me. "You mean to
tell me stroking his cock and eating his cum was accidental?"

"I guess you are right about that." I replied.  "I don't know what got into
me.  It was strange."

"Well let's hope for our head's sake it's natural." Ransom said.  "We are
captured by a tribe of head hunters which likes man sex.  You'd better get
a taste for cock quickly, or we're lost."

"I don't know if I can do that.  Do you think you could?" I asked.

"Not only can I do it, I have," he said.  "And many times too.  There
weren't many lonely nights on the Augusta."

I wasn't sure what to make of that comment, so I ignored it.  "What makes
you think it's going to be man sex?  It might be a single event, like a
coronation." I suggested.

"Pongo and I have had some good times together and in between fucks, he's
told me about his tribe.  They aren't exactly the same as this one, but
I'll bet they're damn close." Ransom explained.  "Pongo said, his tribe
worships a cock god, the god of fertility.  The man with the biggest cock,
typically becomes the Chieftain and rules the roost."

"The women live in one village and the men in another.  They are separate
except for a breeding period once a year.  The tribe picks the biggest
studs to get the women pregnant.  In the other months the men play with
themselves.  Apparently, they think a man's strength is transmitted by his
seed.  If your seed is weak, you get a stud to shoot some cock juice into
your ass, or mouth.

"If you have a weak son, you might get a hero to shoot some of the love
juice in his ass.  Pongo said, they have some rituals where the guys form a
ring, and feed a single man with their seed."  he paused in his
explanation.  "How did you feel while you were shooting off?"

"Good."

"Is that all?"

I smiled. I was embarrassed.  "A lot more than just good."

"And how do you think the Chieftain felt?  Did it bother him when you shot
into his mouth?"

"I think he liked it.  It was as if I was giving him an honor.  He liked it
all."

"Did it bother you when he shot off on you?"

"No, not at all, it seemed fair." I said.

Ransom laughed. "You Englishmen and your sense of fair play. Do you mind if
a white guys sucks on your cock?" he asked.  He didn't wait for my answer.
My cock had relaxed some so he swallowed the whole thing.  I don't know
what he did, but his throat almost massaged my cock.  I got hard again
quickly and Ransom pulled off as my cock enlarged.  After a minute or two
he was nursing on my cock head alone. It was intensely pleasurable.  Ransom
looked like a crude sailor, but he sure knew what he was doing.

He also looked as if he was enjoying me as much as I was enjoying his
ministrations to my genitals. I was going to thank him when my balls
suddenly tightened and I had another orgasm.  I tried to pull my cock head
from Ransom's mouth, but he wouldn't let me.  I shot a huge load down his
throat.

"Food of the gods!" he said. "food of the gods." Pongo entered the room.
He was smiling

"You are OhDong, the man god!" he said.

"I am not!" I said. My Sunday school scruples reared their ugly head.
Ransom looked at me sternly.

"Then you are the son of OhDong." Pongo replied.  This time I nodded. There
may be stronger men who would rather die than renounce God, but I was not
one of them. I might go to hell for this, but I would prefer to find out at
some time in the distant future, not today, or even this month.

"You were kind on the ship." Pongo said. "I should have known you were a
god. If I saw your cock, I would have known!"  He was looking at my cock,
still drooling cum from my experience with Ransom.  I was going to wipe it
off, but thought again. I held my half erect cock and offered it to
Pongo. His face beamed and he swallowed my oozing meat.

It took no more than a second or two to realize he was an even better
sucker than Ransom.  He had no problem taking all of my cock into his
mouth. As I got hard again, he had no problem with the bulk.  I was
enjoying this when my cock twitched and I had two or three ejaculations.
Pongo got some fresh man seed, in addition to the leftovers.

Someone said, all voyages of discovery end up being voyages of
self-discovery.  For no one is this truer than for myself. As a cock god, I
discovered I was well qualified. In England I had never been nude in public
and if truth be known, rarely in private. Here, I found out I enjoyed it
and being naked in front of perfect strangers made me hard.

I also discovered my balls produced an all but inexhaustible supply of
sperm. Not only was there a lot of it, but it was replenished in record
time.  I had thought of this as a problem as a boy.  It had been messy and
hard to conceal.  Now, the sperm was a positive asset.

Pongo knew the ranks of all the men and he taught me the words for the
proper titles, as well as some proper greetings.  I asked, if I could see
Williams.  Pongo seemed to think so.  He went off to locate the High Chief
and see if he could locate Williams.  He went off and two red headed men
entered the room.

Up until that moment, I hadn't realized red hair was a natural variant in
aboriginal people in Australia.  The two men were clearly members of the
tribe, but had brilliant red hair.  The hair was done up in elaborate style
and I suspected they were officials of some sort.  They wanted to look at
Ransom.

I am an academic man and learn best from reading books and from reasoned
discourse.  Ransom was unlettered but a keen observer of the world around
him.  He had noticed some things I had missed.

Ransom stood looking at the men and fondling his cock.  He then pulled back
the foreskin and exposed his cock head.  He had a thick cock with a broad
cock head the size of an English penny.  The two men did the same. Ransom
walked closer until his cock touched that of the bigger of the two men.
Whatever he did, it seemed to please the men.

The men began to feel Ransom's furry chest and Ransom tweaked the bigger of
the two men's nipples. My Irish friend had a big, bushy beard which seemed
to fascinate them. They were rather lean and muscular; Ransom was bear-like
and solid.  The two aborigines seemed to have recognized Ransom as being
related to them by virtue of their red hair, but saw him as some sort of a
distant relative.

As they poked and prodded each other, all three men began to get hard. I
hadn't seen the men at the ceremony, so this was their first exposure to
European meat. They all seemed to like what they were seeing. Ransom's cock
was thick and stubby when it was soft.  As he hardened, the diameter
remained constant, but the length increased to a solid seven inches or
so. His body was pink, but tanned by the sun.  Covered in copper colored
hair, the resulting color was odd.  His bloated cock head was a deep,
purple lavender.

The redheaded aborigines were the color of coffee with milk.  They were
much less hairy.  Soft, their cocks were pitch black and you could see the
cock head bulge a third of the way up the shaft, completely enshrouded by
the black foreskin. As their cock heads emerged from their skin, they were
the same size as Ransom's mushroom and were pink, the same color as
Ransom's skin.

By now, all three men were fully erect; the smaller of the two aborigines
held his cock against Ramsom's skin and compared the colors.  I am not a
particularly observant person, but I had noticed the cock heads of the
other men were either chocolate, black or deep purple. I looked at the two
dark skinned, red headed men.  You could almost see the wheels of their
minds figuring out the relationship between their tribe and Ransom.

The bigger man hugged Ransom.  Apparently they had decided he was an
ancestor, or progenitor of some sort. The man motioned to the smaller man.
The small man turned his back to Ransom, bent over and spread his legs
wide. The bigger man spit on his hand and then coated Ransom's cock with
the saliva.  The small man had his ass hole open and was twitching the
opening as if he were winking.

Ransom spit on his own hand and added his spit to that all ready on his
cock.  He walked up to the smaller man, positioned his cock at the hole and
shoved it in the aborigine's ass. I was shocked. I expected the small man
to scream in pain, but he didn't.  Ransom pulled out and shoved it in
again.  As he pumped, the small man began to hum. It sounded a bit like a
contented cat purring. After ten or twelve strokes, he began to shiver,
then chant.

Ransom began to join in the chant, humming in rhythm with his deep cock
strokes into the quivering man. I was not experienced sexually, but I knew
I was watching two men experiencing extraordinary sexual intimacy. I didn't
know how long they could go on, but soon their pace began to pick
up. Ransom bellowed as he shot his seed deep into the quivering ass of the
aborigine.  Of course all of th action was concealed deep in the ass of the
man, but there was no question what was going on.

While this was going on, Pongo returned and motioned to me to follow him.
It was getting dark and we crossed the village and went into the jungle.
We went up the side of a hill and then into a cave. There we found
Williams, half submerged in a pool of bubbling water.

"Thank God, you're alive." Williams said.  "Pongo said you had made it, but
I wasn't sure if I could believe him."

"How do you feel?" I asked.

"Alive," he replied.  "It may not sound like much, but it seems to be a
great achievement to me right now.  These shamans may look like the devil
incarnate, but whatever they did has helped."

"It must be a medicinal pool."  I said.  "Mineral water perhaps?"

"I don't know, everything hurt so much, I can't seem to remember anything."
Williams replied.  "Are they going to kill us?"  I explained our situation
to him and my elevation to near god status.  I expected a sermon on
idolatry.  Instead I got a short discussion of phallic worship in Greek and
Roman antiquity.

"I've studied it, but never thought I would have a chance to experience it
first hand." he observed. "To tell you the truth, I thought it was just a
curiosity of the ancient world, until I married Adelaide.  She wanted a
baby so much, she became fixated on my cock as the necessary tool of
procreation.  I came to understand the significance of the male organ.  I
had thought of it as the symbol of fertility, not the very creative tool.
I'm very confused, she died, didn't she?"

"Yes, she died." I said, "very peacefully and quietly."

"The doctors told her she could never have a child," Williams continued.
"It would have killed her to deliver it, they said.  That she was pregnant
was more than she could ever have expected.  She was happy."  The shamans
entered the room and lifted him out of the pool.  They carried gourds of
mud, which they coated over his body and gave him something to chew.
Williams fell asleep.

I was relieved to find the Priest to be of a Liberal bent.  I had a dread
of him proclaiming his faith as he was being boiled in a pot for the
non-spiritual sustenance of the tribe.  The Witch Doctors seemed to have
medical skills of a more substantive nature than I had suspected.

Pongo lead me back to the Chieftain's lodge.  It was now totally dark in
the village.  Ransom was alone and I fell asleep easily.  It had been a
long day.