Date: Thu, 3 May 2018 14:36:47 -0400
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: The Agency 5

The Agency 5

Case Five: Gresham Palace
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!


It wasn't a palace, but it housed a prince, an Indian Prince. Gresham's
Palace had caused its builder to be beheaded by Henry VIII. The builder had
been too presumptuous. Henry left the house as an object lesson to those
who over reached their positions.

Ravi and Davi were the second and third sons of a Maharajah. When he died
their older brother became the Raja. Traditionally the new Raja would
execute his brothers to eliminate potential plots. The Raja had visited
England as young man and viewed the Sceptered Isle as a hellish place of
cold and rain.

In place of the traditional execution, he exiled his bothers to Kent. He
bought them a small house, Gresham Palace, and gave them a small
allowance. The Raja's interpretation of a small allowance was 10,000 pounds
a year. That would not have been considered a small sum in England. In the
same way, Gresham Palace would not be called a small house.

Both men went to Cambridge.  Davi, who was called David at Cambridge,
studied linguistics. Ravi excelled at Cricket and Polo. In England being a
foreigner is bad but being a superb athlete is good. They were handsome men
who looked like any well-dressed Victorian gentlemen except for the dark
skin tone and turbans. From the Raja's point of view, they had another
attractive trait. They enjoyed the company of men in sexual
situations. This eliminated the potential for additional heirs or rivals.

I had met Ravi at a Club in London. I eventually became a member of the
club, so I saw Ravi a few times a year. Ravi came to see me and said there
were problems at Gresham Palace. David had been injured in what was said to
be a hunting accident. Ravi was suspicious. They got along with their
neighbors. He knew them well enough to know a hunting accident was
unlikely. They might not like their Indian neighbors, but being careless
or, ever worse, having bad aim would be a disgrace. I agreed to visit and
check out the situation.

My friend the Searcher, John Walters, had retired from the police. He
intercepted a bomb thrown at the Prince of Wales.  It was a small bomb, but
he still lost his hand as a result. He received a full pension and several
medals, but when he said that losing his hand was a bit painful, he got
national coverage as a prime example of British understatement. We shared a
house and he worked for me now when he wanted to work. The accident did not
affect his manly organs at all.

John went to East Gresham, the nearest village to the palace and stayed at
an inn. He told them he wanted fresh air. I joined the Palace Staff as
Ravi's valet. They needed additional staff because David needed more
care. Tommy became a part of the grounds crew.

I stayed in the staff quarters at the rear wing of the house. The staff was
half English and half Indian. Much of the English staff lived in the
town. It was soon clear that the English and Indian staff who lived in the
house shared Ravi's sexual preferences.

The house had been renovated, with modern plumbing, a dynamo generating
electricity and American style central heating. The male household servants
shared one bath with four modern shower stalls in the servants' wing. The
staff was mostly friendly. There was a similar arrangement in the Stable
block.

I took a shower the first night with a footman, Gerald and T. D., David's
valet. T.D. was Indian and his name was difficult to pronounce. T.D. was an
acceptable compromise. Gerald was a big 20-year-old son of a farmer. For
him, being a footman was moving up socially. He liked what he saw when I
came in to shower. Like most young men, his cock responded. I was twenty
years older than he was and my cock did the same.

When T.D, entered he smiled, "Rudyard, you have noticed that we are all
friends here," he said.

"I can be really friendly too," I replied. By then Gerald was fully
erect. "Are there any limits to how friendly I can be?" I asked.

"Not in the shower room," T. D. replied. His tool was rising to the
occasion. "We are not very shy here."

I soon had two friends, and a little later I had another friend when
Johnny, an older footman joined us. Since I was new I took care of Gerald
and Johnny as a friendly gesture, taking their loads. They had never fed
their seed to another man before.  A white man had never done the same to
T.K. and when I took his load I immediately knew he was experienced in
sexual techniques.

When he took a break, Gerald asked me in a whisper if he had to eat my
seed. I told him, that was up to him. I liked it all.  He dropped to his
knees and gingerly licked my knob. I was getting excited, so I told him I
was close. He pulled away, but T.K. took his place. He had no problem
taking my seed.

"I've never taken a White man's seed before," he said. "Ravi told me you
were a good friend. Are you offended that you are with lowly valet?"

"Would I shock you if I said I am more interested in man's cock than his
rank," I replied. Gerald and Johnny laughed; T.K. smiled. Tommy had a
similar encounter in the stables. Most of the staff seemed to share the
sexual interests of their employers.

In the town John found that the residents may not have liked foreigners
owning Gresham Palace, but they agreed that Ravi and David paid well and
were fair to their employees and tenants. They also suspected that the
shooting wasn't accidental. Many people worked in the house and on the
estate. Shooting the prince seen unlikely to have been an accident.

The former owners of Gresham Palace, the Thomas family, lived nearby. They
had owned the House since the 1830s and had lost it due to a gambling
habit. While gambling is a self-inflicted wound, that is not the way a
gambler sees it. You can still be bitter even if it's your fault.

John returned to London to check with Scotland Yard, the India Office about
potential problems. He was greatly respected and was well connected.

David had taken care of the day to day operations of the estate, so those
duties fell on Ravi. He was uneasy, tired and of course upset. After is
morning bath I added a pre-breakfast orgasm to his schedule. That relaxed
him and started the day on a happy note. David was interested in modern
devices and the house had a telephone. They had a special line run to the
house as well as the police station and the County magistrate.

John called and told me there were Indian rivals to the Raja, but it seemed
to me that Indians would have a hard time mixing with the residents if they
weren't wearing the Gresham Palace livery. Anarchists were a possibility,
but David would be a very minor figure. John thought that anarchists were
prone to kill minor figures, since they were easier than important public
figures.

John also thought it might be an England only group. These were typically
anti-Irish and anti-Catholic. "I doubt they would object to being
Anti-Indian, Anti-French or anti-one-legged-man-with-red-hair. They usually
dislike anyone who isn't a relative," he said.

"Is anti-non-Christian a possibility" I asked.

John laughed. "I assume it is, but I think they concentrate on being
Anti-Semitic," he said. "That can be a full-time job for some of them." He
said he was trying to find a more direct connection to Gresham Palace.

Gerald was handsome, poorly educated, ambitious and over sexed. A local
boy, he knew all the local stories. It seemed as if he was related to 50%
of the local in habitants. He also knew who held a grudge. Old Smitty
didn't like anyone, and that included the residents of Gresham
Palace. Since David was shot at three in the afternoon, Old Smitty would
have been drunk and unable to aim, according to Gerald.

A Corporal Frank and his buddies were veterans of the Afghan wars and
generally disliked anyone from Asia. Gerald thought they were all talk and
no action. Frank had been a cook, and that stretched his intellectual
capacity. Gerald didn't think a local was involved.

In general, Gerald didn't like Indians, but that was a traditional
countryman's opinion of any outsiders, and note related the owners of the
palace. Ravi paid more than anyone else in the area and tended to be
polite. Being polite to servants was a rarity in the area. He liked working
there.

Gerald was interested in sex, but his knowledge about sex was limited. He
had discovered women, but a false pregnancy was the result of his early
efforts. He played a little with other guys, but that was jerking off
mostly. He told me he liked men more because they were not trying to get
married. I don't think he had realized yet that his interest in men was not
just fear of impregnating a girl. I was the first man to suck him off and
take his load. It wasn't a little, polite spurt.  If he could have shot his
balls through his cock he would have done it. He loved it.

 While talking with the Indians he had heard about the Kama Sutra. One of
the men thought it was bad since it was un-Christian to enjoy sex. I shared
a bedroom with Gerald and his friend Roger. They shared an interest in
anything that could be classified as sex. They thought of me as a worldly
old sage, wise in the sexual arts.

I had taken Gerald's seed, and when I sat on his tool a new world of sexual
pleasure open for him. I did the same for Roger who shot off as his knob
had barely passed my sphincter. Later Roger asked if he had the play being
a woman for me. He assumed he had to reciprocate. I told him he would have
to take it like and man and love it like a man.

The next day the two of them shared sucking me and shared my seed. They
remained hard as they licked up my cream. A little later that night Roger
opened his bum for my tool. It took my time and he took it. While he lost
his erection at first, it returned once I was in. I pulled out before I
seeded him. I went to Gerald and popped his bum hole. The next morning, I
left a deposit in Gerald's behind. He told me it hurt a little, but he like
having me in him.

I wasn't investigating as much as I was watching. Everyone at the Palace
knew there was a potential threat and they were watching too. The Game
Keeper, Big Roger, was aggressive as was typical for a man who was
continuously after poachers. He was almost as big as Tommy. Since he was on
patrol in the fields and woods, he was in good shape and more
muscular. Tommy was heavier.

Big Roger and Tommy became friends. Roger had lost his wife, and his
youngest son, Gerald's Roger had left home. Big Roger saw Tommy as a like
spirit. They looked at the world in the same way and shared the same
inclinations. Both dominated most men. They discovered that sharing the man
juices of an equal was particularly satisfying.

I had a message from John who had been in touch with the India
office. While the Viceroy represented the Empress, some of the princely
states were restive and hoped to regain their powers. This was unlikely,
but they seemed to enjoy being disruptive. Ravi and David's brother, the
Raja, was regarded as a modernist who betrayed the traditions of the
princely states.  He also was married to only one woman who had produced
three girls. That was a curse sent from the gods. Multiple wives and sons
were a blessing.

Since the Raja's brothers were still alive, the throne would descend to
them, not to a cousin who was married to one of the Raja's opponents. It
was a complicated scheme, with comparatively little chance of success, but
since much of the governance was done by advisors sent by the Viceroy,
there was little for the princes to do but plot.

The India Office had sent this information to Lord Summerly, the local
Justice of the Peace, and magistrate and told him of the plot. He said he
would ask the local police to be on watch. I gave the same information to
Ravi. It made sense to him. He was well acquainted with his Indian Rivals.

Ravi asked me if I had found any entertainment at Gresham Palace. I told
him that I had, but I didn't think they were skillful enough to meet his
standards.  The men we had associated with at the club, were most
skilled. "Do you think they might be interested?" he asked." You have never
objected to our play. You are white, but you have never objected?"

"As I recall, your manly juices are white?" I said. He smiled.

"Several intimate friends are joining me for a little festival tonight. You
are welcome," Ravi added.

"I assume this is like the Bartlett Club?" I said.

"It is more of an Indian version of the Bartlett Club. You remember the
club's initiations?" he asked. I nodded. "This is a bit like that but might
be more intense. They have never been with an Englishman before. They all
might want to enter you. If they like you, they might leave a gift."

I knew this might be sexual marathon, sexual rituals were historically part
of the culture. To be included was an honor. I also suspected the rituals
were inventive and unusual. I was curious. I agreed to join in the
festival.

"It might be too much for you," Ravi said.

"If I said that I think too much sex would be a good thing, would you be
surprised?" I asked.

"I think you are a man that likes a challenge," Ravi replied as he laughed.

I went to the Princes' suite at 8:30. The event was related to the sacred
Lingam, a stone in the shape of a penis. It was more correctly the shape of
a thick penis. It was the symbol of male fertility, and while it was an
orgy to a European man, it was a celebration of men's creative organs and
juices. The men were cheerful, joyful and happy, not somber and subdued.

Ravi was a prince, but the men included T.K., Ravi's secretaries and well
as guards, servants and stable hands. The twelve of fifteen men were
dressed in bejeweled Turbans, necklaces, bracelets and even their ankles
were ringed is gold. They were otherwise nude. I stripped and was similarly
adorned. We drank and ate fruits and little sweet cakes. I think the drinks
were potent, but I couldn't tell of they were alcoholic or used other
potions to relax. A young man named Sanjay stayed with me. He spoke English
well and he served as a translator and told me what was expected. There was
a small band of musicians.

The men began to dance, and a large muscular, bearded groom came to me. He
was not bejeweled. "His name is Manish. He wants to dance with you," Sanjay
said. "If he fondles your privates, he wants you as a partner."

"He is huge. He is proud of his man parts?" I asked. Sanjay nodded. We
danced arm to arm with the other men in circles. When we stopped, he
caressed my cock. I saw that several other men had caressed and then kissed
their partner's genitals. Manish was as big as Tommy, so I dropped to my
knees and kissed the puckered tip of his foreskin. I worked my tongue into
the skin and tasted the sweet juice oozing from his cock. Manish was
already excited.

I pushed my tongue in deeper and caressed the underside of his cock head. I
didn't know if that was too much or too forward for the ceremony. Manish
loved it. An hour later I knew that nothing was too much for him if it
related to cocks or sperm worship. This was a celebration of men's organs
and man sex.

I had many good experiences sitting on Tommy's cock, bouncing, moaning and
shooting.  Sometimes he fucked me, sometimes he stayed still and let me use
my ass to massage him to an orgasm.  Tommy was reserved sometimes. Manish
was a wildly enthusiastic, responsive to every movement and seemed to have
an extensive repertoire of different ways to fuck and be fucked.

He had an unexpected ability to know when I was on the cusp of an orgasm
and slowed his drive to a climax. I remained teetering on the edge of an
orgasm for what seemed like hours. This was a part of the technique of
Indian sex.

Manish was not my playmate accidentally. He and his oversized organ were a
test. They thought the English were prudish and incapable of true sexual
satisfaction. I was to have been shocked by Manish's super masculinity and
left the room in tears, to nurse my violated bum. While they have been
disappointed in my reaction you can only be so disappointed in finding a
new, enthusiastic playmate with a hard cock, a willing mouth and an open
bum.

I was unable to keep track of every man who fucked me or fed me their
cream. T.K. was an accountant and he kept score. I had swallowed the seed
of eight men and a twelve had filled my ass. Manish had returned to my hole
three times. At the end of the night four men lifted me up and sat me on
Ravi's cock. I was barely aware of what was going on, but I did feel him
shooting his princely seed into me.

When I woke the next morning, Manish's oversized tool was still in me. He
provided the plug to keep the accumulated sperm in me for the night. When
he pulled out, David was there. He was weak and didn't look good, but he
was hard.  Ravi, T.K. and Sanjay guided his cock into my sperm filled
hole. They believed that the seed of many men would help to restore him to
heath. I was surprised when he began to thrust and then deposited his seed
in me.

I know all of this was little more than old wives' tales, but David did
improve after the event. They attributed that the to gods. I think that his
orgasm reminded him that he could still feel pleasure after the nightmare
of the attack on him.

As I took part in sexual rituals, the India office, Scotland Yard and the
police in India made progress. Ravi and David's brother had twin boys. That
was clearly auspicious and a clear sign of the approval of the gods. The
plot began to fall apart.

The anarchist group responsible for the attack on the Prince of Wales and
John's loss of a hand was said to be raising money through murder for
hire. The group was based in Germany, but informants said there had been
contacts with Indians. Even if the plot was falling apart, information
travels slowly from India to Germany.

John was deeply suspicious of Anarchists for obvious reasons. He thought
the political aims of the groups covered the sadistic tendencies of the
members. He thought they were not pursuing a political objective; they were
satisfying sexual urge to hurt and maim. Ravi and David were not
significant political figures, and their deaths would have no impact on the
future of India.

Tommy and Big Roger were walking the estate looking for traces of
poaching. They found a nest, a hiding place which overlooked the Palace and
had been used by several men. Big Roger knew that no poacher who knew him
would ever leave evidence. For Roger a broken twig was all he needed to
hunt down a poacher. A nest was the equivalent of trying to sneak a
Dreadnaught up the Seine to attack Paris.  It was inconceivable.

Big Roger's son Roger, Gerald's friend, was a tracker. After two hours,
every footstep of the intruders was traced to the point where they entered
the estate and back to the Village inn. I had misunderstood the character
of the Indian staff. They were fiercely protective of the Princes and were
well trained. There was no shoot-out or dramatic event. I never heard a
sound. The anarchists vanished without a trace.

Gresham Palace was classified as part of the Indian Princely state when
Ravi and David were in residence. John told me that the anarchists provided
some useful information that T.K. supplied to Scotland Yard, but the
anarchists vanished. There was no mess, no blood, no bodies. They became a
rumor. I did see a trace of a satisfied smile on Manish's face, but that
was all.

The capture of the anarchists seems to have brought the English and Indian
staff members together. Working to defeat a common foe builds trust. The
local Englishmen liked the somewhat draconian punishment favored by the
Indians.

David's health improved day by day and the staff attributed that to my seed
filled bum. I didn't understand their thinking, but it certainly improved
my status with them. I told John, Gerald, Roger, Tommy about my
adventures. John and Tommy were aware of my sexual openness. I was afraid
the others might be shocked, but that wasn't the case at all. I realized
they would like to participate in similar activities.

Ravi had enjoyed the pool at the Bartlett Club. While I was at Gresham
Palace I had been unaware of the construction of a Boat house on one of the
estate's ponds. I was getting ready to return to London when he told me he
was having a party at the new facility. It was to be at ten, after the
servants who lived in the town left. The guests included the English and
Indians who worked for the estate. The boat house was a place to store
boats for paddling on the pond, but most of the building was now a glass
house over an interior pool, perhaps four times the size of the club's
pool. It was a nude pool.

Swimming naked was typical at the time, so this was not considered
unusual. After the tension of David's shooting and the anarchists' visit,
it was to be informal and relaxed. Since all the guests shared similar
inclinations, there was an assumption that not only the dress code was
informal, but that the men would be free to amuse themselves.

That evening was a full moon. It illuminated the pool with the aid of a few
candles.  While everyone and every activity was in the open, it was
possible to be discrete. The Princes and the senior Indian staff wore the
jewels they had worn at the festival, and the lingam was on display. The
Englishmen were just plain naked as were the Indian servants of lesser
status. I thought there might have been a problem when Tommy and Big Roger
met Gerald and Roger, but it was fine. Both Big Roger and his son Roger had
been hiding their sexual tastes from each other. They realized they didn't
need to hide their interests anymore. Roger liked Tommy and Big Roger liked
Gerald. Manish and his friend, Krishna, a former wrestler and who was now a
forester liked them all.

Here were several aspects of the event I hadn't understood. The first full
moon of the summer was especially auspicious at this time of the year. My
openness to accepting Indian sperm in my person indicated I was a "Good
Egg." I had not realized some English terms were in common use in
India. When David's genitals slipped into my sperm filled hole, it had
initiated a miraculous improvement his physical condition.

Opinion was divided on whether it was the manliness of the sperm in my ass,
or my bum's ability to hold the accumulated sex juices which helped David's
recovery. T.K. explained it complicated thinking behind the event. I know
that I should have been shocked and rejected the strange ritual. I might
have done that if I hadn't enjoyed it so much. I felt like a whore
confronted by scores of millionaires bearing jewels and gifts if only I
would give them pleasure.

Manish and Krishna took change of me for the night.  They made sure that my
cock was the subject of near continuous veneration, and that my bum was
well occupied. Krishna made sure no sperm escaped my ass, with Manish
helping. All the men were gentle and careful until the urge to climax
seized them. Several English men joined in, perhaps to feel my sperm
lubricate hole. Big Roger, and Tommy took turns. Roger also sampled me.  He
shot off quickly. I assumed using his father's seed as a lubricant as good
for him.

Several Indian men of the lowest orders participated. T. K. told me they
had sickly sons or nephews they hoped to help. I said that they could
participate. I again realized that impressive man parts were not only given
to wealth men. One of them had an impressively extended orgasm. At the end
of the evening Ravi was sucking me as David used his cock to gently massage
my bum.

The when the sun rose on a beautiful day, my friend John fucked me to
sleep.