Date: Sat, 28 Apr 2018 10:35:59 -0400
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: The Agency 4

The Agency 4
Part Four: The Men's Club
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, comments send them to
bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com

If you enjoy these stories. Please consider giving a donation to Nifty!


The Bartlett Club was an all but unknown men's club in the West End of
London. It was on a small, little frequented street flanked by a private
bank and a warehouse. It was a large but non-descript house identified only
by its street number.

The Bartlett had the normal rooms typical of a men's club, a dining room, a
card room and some bedrooms for overnight stays. It also had a locker room,
exercise space and a small swimming pool. It had an unusual
membership. Sustaining members tended to be well off but little known. They
shared some of the interests of Oscar Wilde, but not his fame. Indeed,
being famous was a disqualifier for membership.

Secondary members were less wealthy and successful but shared common
inclinations. They also tended to be more playful than the older
members. If you were to visit the Dining or Card room, this was a
conventional men's club. If you visited the pool or exercise rooms, the
club was less conventional.

The essence of the Bartlett Club was to be anonymous and to be not
noticed. Club members were known by a nick names, not by a given name. All
bills were paid in cash and records were coded.

I pride myself of being knowledgeable especially about men who shared my
tastes, but I had never heard of the club. The President of the Club, Ascot
Mandrake, came to me with a problem. Men were being harassed as they
entered or left the club.  Windows were being broken and some members had
been threatened.  While the club had a detective inspector from Scotland
Yard as a member, it was impossible to involve the police for obvious
reasons.

Ascot, who was as eccentric as his name, had two theories. The Oscar Wilde
scandal had generated great animosity towards men of a certain
inclination. Someone might have discovered the nature of the club and
decided to afflict the club members. His other thought was related to the
value of the club's property. London was booming, and speculation was
rampant. If the club were to move, that land would be available.

I joined the staff as a jack of all trades. My job was the take care of the
members any way possible. While the Sustaining members and the secondary
members were not of the same class, they shared common interests and were
open minded. I helped as a doorman, serving the mid-day luncheon and then
dinner, or working in the locker room doing whatever was needed.

The club was egalitarian in one way. While the goal of the club was to
provide friendship and sexual release for it members, that was not a part
of the staffs' duties. While the staff could engage in sexual activities,
when, where and with whom was the prerogative of the staff, not the club
members. I soon noticed that the staff was most generous sexually and quite
willing to connect with the members. I must admit I seemed to have the same
tendency to be generous.

Tommy joined me at the Bartlett Club along with a new employee,
Barnabas. Barnabas was slightly smaller than Tommy but was covered in curly
red hair. He had been a strong man at the traveling fair and once gave
massages in a fancy hotel. He left that job when he seeded a man who had
wanted his cock, but not the seed. Both men could serve as door men and
locker room attendants. One would think twice before harassing a club
member in the view of these massive men. They were also to wander the
streets and pick up gossip.

I was surprised at how easily we were accepted by the members. The
membership was quite small and stable.  Three well-endowed, new staff
members were exciting. I also met the Inspector, nicknamed the Searche,
from the Metropolitan Police.

Wilson, the head doorman was an older man who knew all the members. Most of
the waiters were young and friendly. The bar men were older and well versed
in making conversation with older men. The Main level of the club was like
any other English gentleman's club. The second floor had rooms for men who
had too much to drink or were too tired to go home. The third level was for
men who could climb three floors for less restful, but more intimate
entertainment. These rooms were rented by the more prosperous who were
entertaining friends. The club used the phrase, "Would you like a night cap
in my room?" as the invitation to the third floor.

The ground level was a locker room-shower, a weight room and a small
pool. While the servants were properly dressed on the upper floors, they
only wore a towel on the ground floor. Massages by Barnabas were
immediately popular. When I wasn't at the main door I was often cleaning in
the locker and shower rooms. Overt sex was mostly under water in the pool,
until Barnabas arrived.

Barnabas had a problem controlling his erections. The members of the
Bartlett club regarded this as an interesting natural phenomenon.  Ascot
Mandrake ruled that while overt displays were discouraged, Barnabas had a
physical condition that was acceptable since his member was soon buried in
a member's bum or throat. It was fleeting and thus not a vulgar display.

There was another rule that applied only to the pool. It was a sperm free
zone. Too much sperm would contaminate the water. The swimmers had no
problem with this rule if they swallowed the problematic seed.

A little more than a block away from the club, Tommy and Barnabas found a
disreputable pub called the Swan. This was a hangout for rogues and petty
thieves. My men looked like laborers.  It was not a friendly place, but
they were so big no one bothered them. At the far end of the block was the
headquarters of the Purity League. This was one of the neo-puritan groups
that had recently sprouted up in London. From time to time a man from the
Purity League would come by the Swan and hire a few men.

Even in the rancid Pub, Tommy smelled something bad. I contacted my office
asking them to check on the Purity League. I also sent Alfred to watch the
men.  Tommy and Barnabas were good men, but they were too big to go
undercover.

At the club, I encountered a man they called Uncle Sam. He was unlike most
of the members who were affable. He complained about almost everything. He
had an inflated view of his importance. His Uncle had been a founder of the
Club and Uncle Sam let you know it. I couldn't tell if his complaints were
real, or an aspect of a troubled mind. He liked to swim as exercise, unlike
most of the members who swam as a prelude to sexual activity. Discontented
men always interest me.

One of the unusual residents of the second floor was a young teacher,
Desmond Duke. He was a bland unassuming man. Wilson told me was from a
wealthy family who had discovered his inclinations and cut him off. His
Grandmother sent him an allowance, but relations with his Father were
"unacceptable" according to Wilson. Wilson was a tolerant man and
unacceptable was a harsh judgement for him. Desmond tutored boys who had
medical problems, so he had irregular hours at the club.

I was finishing my door man duties and going to the locker room when he
came back to the club. He was disturbed. One of his pupils had taken a turn
for the worst. I suggested he go to the lower floor and exercise. Activity
might be good for him.

"I've only been there once," he said. "I was shocked that the men weren't
properly dressed," he said.

I smiled, "They weren't dressed for the dining room, but they were
appropriate for the pool," I said. "Would I be right in assuming the dress
code at your home was quite formal?"

He nodded and whispered, "I've never seen openly naked men before. The pool
was a shock."

"Come with me, the pool will be almost empty at this time of the day," I
said. Desmond was a timid man. I was just a servant, but I think he was
uneasy about possibly offending me. We went to the locker room.

"The rules of appropriate behavior and dress are entirely different in the
club's lower level. They are informal," I explained. "It is acceptable to
wear little or nothing at all, indeed that is required in the pool. Some
men are of an affectionate nature. Let us just say, men often display that
affection. Often other men reciprocate that affection in physical and
intimate ways."

"I don't think I could ever do that," Desmond said.

"You do not need to do that. Some men enjoy physical responses, others may
only observe." I said, "You might note that some men wear towels around
their waists, other have it over their shoulders.

"They display their members?"  he asked.

"Good men have no need to hide anything, do they? I replied.  Luckily there
were only two men there, the Major, a former military man and Gramps, a
mellow older man.

"Come with us to the pool," they said to Desmond. He told them that he
couldn't swim.

"If I told you that you will be swimming in an hour, would you believe me?"
the Major asked. Desmond said he doubted that.

"You have insulted my honor Sir!" he said in the dramatic voice of a
Gilbert and Sullivan officer. "Come to the pool and prove me right or prove
me a Liar!"

"Desmond, I've known the Major for years. It's easier to do what he wants
than argue with him," Gramps said as he laughed. A few minutes later the
trio was off to the pool. The Major and Gramps had dealt with shy, unsure
men before. They knew how to ease from being helpful to overtly sexual
without offending their potential playmate. They knew more about Desmond's
needs and desires that Desmond knew. Desmond was only barely acquainted
with sexual pleasure.

Desmond learned how to swim and became erect at the same time. They
pretended not to notice his tool until Desmond was floating on his
back. "You have a handsome organ," the major said. "It is a beautiful
display." Gramps leaned over and kissed Desmond's bloated cock head.

"My friend gets carried away when he sees a young man's organ at
attention," the Major said. Desmond began to squirt, and Gramps quickly
made sure that no seed entered the water.

"I'm so embarrassed," Desmond moaned.

"We are all men here. You are doing what makes a man a man," the Major
said.

Gramps looked up. "I've taken most of it, but I think there is more of the
food of the gods left if you would like a taste, Major," Gramps said. The
Major took Desmond's tool into his mouth. I couldn't tell if Desmond had a
second orgasm, of if it was part of the earlier event. The Major enjoyed
whatever it was. Desmond became a regular visitor to the pool.

I asked the Searcher if he had any information about the Purity League.
The Searcher was not a trusting man and was naturally suspicious. He held
his cards close to the vest. He was a dumpy, quite forgettable man in the
card room. Naked he stood out. He was muscular and had a natural Billy club
hanging between his legs. While everyone admired it as a natural wonder,
few could take it.

Eventually we played, and I was willing to take his club. It wasn't exactly
painful, but it wasn't that pleasurable for me. While he was slightly too
big for me, my tight hole was prefect for him.  I asked him the slow down
his thrusting. That was better for me, but even better for him.

He was enjoying it so much, I began to enjoy his pleasure. I felt a warm,
affectionate feeling about him. He was almost glowing as he repeatedly
eased his oversize member into me. I often tried to grip a man's tool to
enhance the pleasure. I was so tight, I didn't need to do that. After a few
minutes, I felt him twitch and then project a powerful steam of seed into
me. Searcher was handsome as he seemed to inject the entire contents of his
balls into me. I began to ejaculate. My twitches seemed to excite
him. Searcher ejected still more of his man seed into me.

The Searcher was an intelligent man and helped my investigation as much as
he could, given his position at the yard. Several days after our
connection, he told me that while the League raised considerable sums of
money promoting Purity, that money went directly into the Society President
Malcomb Smyth-Warren's banking account. Malcomb's real name was Micky
Smith, and he was a fraudster.

I went to find Ascot Mandrake to give him this information. Ascot was being
massaged by Barnabas. I knew you had to be direct with Ascot, since he lost
his focus when Barnabas slipped into his bum and began the anal
massage. Ascot was sixty-four-years-old, but Barnabas had introduced him to
unexpected pleasures. Barnabas' tool was large, but well-shaped for
penetration.

Ascot was the fourth son of a high ranking noble and associated with men of
his class. Barnabas was a common, common man and his tool excited
Ascot. His forceful orgasms excited Ascot even more. He discovered that a
flood of laborer seed was superior to aristocratic cock dribble.

Ascot had connections in the banking and charitable world and said he would
investigate the Purity League. That was seconds before Barnabas' tool poked
into his bum.

Barnabas had changed the sexual character of the club. Ascot had not been
interested in back door activities. These activities had only taken place
in the third-floor rooms. Now that Ascot realized the potential, men were
more able to explore other activities.

Being dogged and persistent are good traits for a detective. I tried to
develop these traits. You can not develop luck.  It strikes like
lightening, unpredictable and random. Desmond had a student who lived on
Regents Park. The student was intelligent but delicate. Desmond was
entirely proper with his students and was deeply offended if anyone
suggested otherwise. Desmond came to know the boy's Uncle Rodney, and found
they shared common interests.

Desmond shared some of the skills he had learned from the Major and Gramps
with Uncle Rodney. Rodney was most appreciative. Rodney's sister and the
boy's mother, Elizabeth, thought her son's weaknesses were due to sin,
particularly Oscar Wilde's sin. In this modern age that was absurd, but
desperate people are not known for rational thought.

Rodney's sister was a donor to the Purity League. When she went to Scotland
on a holiday with her son, Rodney found her letters to and from the
League. When Desmond found out about them he invited Rodney to the
club. Visitors could only use the first and second floors of the club,
although the hosts could invite friends to meet the guest in his room. Four
men had to vouch for a potential member.

Ascot told me that the Major had twelve men support him. The major was
sexually generous and was able to accommodate a cock in his bum and another
in his mouth. He would have served every man in the club if he had time.

I had a chance to talk with Rodney. He loved his sister but despised the
Purity League. He knew the league was taking advantage of her. Smyth-Warren
sent her newspaper clippings of assaults and muggings with a note saying
things like, "The League takes Action!"

While that was a clue, Smyth-Warren was a fraud, and he might well take
credit for other persons' crimes. The fundamental problem of the League was
its reliance on petty crime. The Searcher said that the League had over
10,000 pounds in the bank. If the ruffians from the Swan were involved,
they could be bought for a few shillings.

The Major, Gramps and a third man, Marco came to the room to "interview"
Rodney. Apparently, Rodney had easily passed the oral exam. I had seen, but
not met Marco. He was young, handsome and sported an unusually long and
thin member. In an anal test, and I knew it was the diameter, not the
length that was a problem for most men. I left, but Rodney passed the exam
with flying colors taking one load in his bum and two loads in his mouth
simultaneously.

Elizabeth's brother, Rodney joined the League as a spy and made reports
back to me. Smyth-Warren assumed Rodney shared his sister's beliefs. The
odd outbreak of luck continued. Rodney became a friend of a man we called
Marlow. He was an older man with a thin member crowned with a large
knob. Rodney loved it. Marlow was a distinguished doctor, who became
interested in Rodney's nephew. He was a regular correspondent with Pasteur
and had a theory about the child's illness.

A year later an article in the Times described a medical breakthrough, by a
Dr. Melbourne in a childhood disease. Marlow was the doctor and Rodney's
nephew was the child he cured. One could say the child was saved by
Rodney's urge to take cocks in his bum.

Rodney was able to identify several of Smyth-Warren's thugs. Several of the
club members volunteered to be decoys as drunken club members on the way
home. They were under the watchful eye of Black Tommy and Barnabas,
assisted by the Major and the Searcher.

Gramps and Uncle Sam were the decoys. Gramps was able to imitate a drunk by
drinking a lot. Two thugs moved in on them and Tommy and Barnabas made
their move. The thugs were totally surprised and overwhelmed. Uncle Sam was
quite aggressive. He made use of his normal bad temper to attack the
thugs. The Searcher had told them that physical damage was acceptable, but
not death. Badly beaten thugs would lick their wounds and move away. A
death would bring in the Bobbies.

The Searcher knew several men on the force who shared his tastes. They took
care of another thug a day later. The rascals at the Swan realized two
shillings were not enough to do the League's dirty work. We had taken care
of the immediate problem, but Smyth-Warren was still making money on the
league.

I had no cases demanding attention, so I stayed at the Club with Tommy and
Barnabas. While I could keep an eye on the situation, I thought of it as a
vacation at a sexual resort. I grew closer to the Searcher; whose real name
was John Walters. He loved my ass.  It took a little while for me to fully
enjoy his oversized tool. With each penetration I became closer to him. He
wasn't demonstrative or emotional, but somehow his Billy club cock seemed
to exude affection.

I was shocked at how comfortable the club members and I had become being
nude and overtly sexual. Outside the walls of the club that wasn't possible
in foggy London.

Several good things happened. Ascot Mandrake dipped into his fortune and
bought the Swan and promptly closed the pub. The Searcher was trying to get
the Purity League for fraud. The Bartlett Club had an asset to assist in
that effort. A man called Dickens Hope returned to the club after a long
absence. He was a newspaper reporter who had been doing a series of
articles on visits to the distant parts of the Empire. Dickens was a short,
bland and unimpressive man. He was the sort of man you might talk to
indiscreetly not guessing he was a reporter.

Dickens had not been a regular patron of the Club. When he returned after
the two-year trip around the Empire the Club had changed. Dickens enjoyed
using a man bum to keep his member warm. In return for this service,
Dickens was willing to lubricate the warm tunnel with his own man seed.

Barnabas had opened Ascot's back door and he had no longer had an objection
to letting men enter through the rear. It had taken little time for the
membership to adjust to the new recreational opportunities. I had assumed
that most men would be aggressive, but not necessarily receptive. I was
wrong. The anatomy of the ass and the configuration of the male member are
varied.

Some men had organs that were designed for easy penetration. Other men were
surprised to find they felt intense pleasure accommodating another man's
tool. In the great variety of sexual responses, most discovered more
intense pleasure at the Club. Dickens was one of these men. He was short,
but his organ was not lacking. His balls were large, always full and easily
refilled. Four or five orgasms a night was possible for him with no
diminution of pleasure. He became popular. He was a great conversationalist
in addition to his sexual skills.

He spent most of his time on the ground floor, but he was a popular guest
in the third-floor bedrooms. He introduced some new men to the club, Ravi,
who was probably the son of an Maharaja, and Zulu, an African prince,
perhaps. The club members were not particularly open minded racially, but
both men were horse hung and pleasant. The members were dazzled by the size
of men men's organs, well before the discovered the men were pleasant and
"Good Chaps."

Tommy, Barnabas and I were with Dickens, Searcher, Ascot, Ravi and Gramps
in the pool getting acquainted.  Since Tommy had been mostly outside the
club, the men weren't that familiar with him. He was a well-endowed as were
Dickens, Searcher and Ravi and they shared a mutual admiration. Ascot,
Gramps and I were more conventionally equipped, but we were known to be
accommodating. I was becoming quite attached to Searcher but had discovered
I enjoyed watching other men squirming on his tool. His cock felt just as
good in my bum after he had played with other men and he usually saved his
seed for me. Tommy's tool visited Ascot bum. It was a tight fit, but Ascot
was smiling.

When I told Dickens about the Purity League and Smyth-Warren, his eyes lit
up.  Dickens could affect a complete poker face, or an enthusiastic look
that gave you the impression he was hanging on your every word. Searcher
gave him some of the information he had found.

Three weeks later the Times published a long article about questionable
charities and political groups.  It was factual and did not exactly claim
the groups were frauds, but no reader could have failed to come to that
conclusion. The Purity League was featured in the article. Two days the
Purity League's offices were empty, and Smyth-Warren had a one-way ticket
to France. His bank had put a hold on his accounts, so he left the country
without his ill-gotten gains,