Date: Tue, 29 May 2018 15:09:26 -0400
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: The Agency 8

The Agency 8

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!

Case 8: Highland Fling.

Boswell Island is an isolated speck in the North Sea. Hardy sheep inhabit
its 150 acres along with 15 to 30 men, depending on the season. The sheep's
wool was exceptionally weather resistant and close to being waterproof. The
residents were shepherds and fisherman. The last women left the island in
1815 during a particularly long and cold winter. Owned by Lord Boswell, it
served as a refuge for men who were most happy with the company of other
men.

The island was close to being uninhabitable, except for a cove on the south
side of the island. Sheltered by cliffs, this area was served by a thermal
spring. This spring provided warmth through the winter and the cool summer.

I thought Lord Boswell was the reincarnation of Beau Brummel, a Regency
fop. Lord Boswell made Oscar Wilde seem like a rustic farm hand. Inheriting
a large estate, he was an intelligent investor and he was now fabulously
wealthy. His Lordship was notably generous to his tenants and
employees. Anyone who might whisper anything about his Lordship's personal
life might well suffer serious bodily harm from his tenants.

The island had an ancient and eccentric legal status. It was an independent
state, with Lord Boswell the absolute owner and ruler. If the island were
to be abandoned, he would lose the title and the island would be owned by
the descendants of his grandmother's son. That man was General Wolfgang von
Babbleberg, a military aide to the Kaiser.

The Admiralty did not like that prospect. Undesirable as the island was, it
was 800 miles west of Germany. Were it to become a German Naval base it
would put much of Scotland and England in easy range Navy.

In 1892, Boswell Island residents began experiencing unusual events. Sheep
were dying, provisions were contaminated and there were assaults by unknown
persons. The British Admiralty believed these were not accidental or
coincidental.  They thought the German Kriegsmarine was involved.

There had never was any mention of the sexual interests of Boswell Island's
residents, but I was contacted to investigate. The Admiralty knew I would
like the residents. From time to time Lord Boswell sent his personal yacht
to tour the island. The passengers were friends who liked the distinct
character of the island and its men. They also just happened to share the
sexual preferences of the residents.

The residents enjoyed the variety provided by the passengers. The visitors
could enjoy themselves without fear of discovery, and often discovered new
pleasures. I am Rudyard Phillips and my agents Jamie, Barnabas, Little Tom
and a new agent, Woodrow, were with me. Little Tom was almost a dwarf. He
had a great sense of humor, and an incredible sex drive. Woodrow was a
masculine looking fellow, but he possessed lady parts and a small
penis. Some men found that interesting and titillating.

The yacht's Captain, Ronald Duncan, and his crew were like spirits and they
too enjoyed visits to the island.  The Captain said the visit was worth the
rough voyage. He told me that you always knew all your man parts were in
working order after a stay on the island.

After a three days voyage, we reached it on a good day. It was only
overcast and drizzling. Normal days were gale force winds, rain or snow. We
took a launch to the settlement, Boswell's Bay. The "mayor", Rockland
McIntyre, greeted us and showed us around. It was a cluster of low,
rambling stone buildings wrapped around a spring fed, enclosed, heated
pool. Rooms near the pool were warm. More distant rooms were cooler.

I was shocked by the men. They were mostly big, almost shaggy, not very
attractive and nearly naked when they were near the pool. Some wore just a
shirt, some only a loin cloth. Neither the shirt or the loincloth covered
all that is normally covered. There was another surprise. Men who looked
like those on this Island would normally smell like recent escapees from a
barn. These men were clean, there was no smell. I was with a man from the
ship, Jamie and Barnabas. The men stared at us and then smiled.

McIntyre looked at us. "Are you men interested in the pool?" he asked. "It
is the only interesting feature on the island. The entrance is on the other
side. As we walked, he leaned close to me. "I assume your men are of a
liberal disposition? Some of our local traditions are considered unusual by
some." I assured him that all was well.

The pool was an impressive stone room. It was a clever design that provided
water, heat and recreation for the residents. There were two naked men in
the water. The men we had seen as we entered, had stripped and jumped in
the water.

"Would you like a dip?" McIntyre asked. The sailor from the yacht had been
there before and he was naked and dove into the warm water.  This was
clearly what was expected. We joined the swimmers. The two unattractive
Island men took a shine to me. I wasn't sure about that until I discovered
the men had a feature I liked. Shep was a solid older man with a weathered
face peeking out between a beard, massive mustache and hairy eyebrows. His
friend, Robin, was younger, bigger and heavier. Hair cuts and trimmed
beards were not in style on the island.

Robin didn't talk, at least not with strangers, but he could suck cock
underwater. "It's his way of saying hello," Shep told me.

"I like that," I replied.

"Are you a friend of his lordship?"

"I know him. He said I would like the men on this island," I said.

"Did he tell you that we have our own ways?" Shep asked. "We have a lot of
fun here, when we aren't chasing sheep." Robin had come up for air. The men
on the Isle were barely literate and uneducated. During the months of long,
dark winter nights there was nothing to do except enjoy the warm pool enjoy
sex with their mates. They saw us as new, exciting toys.

"I think we can adapt to your ways, but my friends and I have some
experience. If you have some skills we have never encountered, we would see
it as a challenge, not a problem," I said.

I sat on the edge of the pool as Robin, Shep and another man sucked my
tool.

Sitting next to me McIntyre said, "Years ago, men played cards and
chess. Gambling reared its ugly head. As a general rule a nice exchange of
cock juices just before bed is better than a sleeping draught."

"Is jealousy a problem?" I asked.

"Not that I can tell. Sometimes men seek out their closest mates, other
time they help the man nearest to them. Once a week or so, a man will
volunteer to "take on some fuel." They take sperm from everyone." He
explained. "It a festive event."

"In the mouth or ass?" I asked. "I'm sorry, I assume you guessed I am not
entirely inexperienced in these matters."

"It is the volunteer's choice," he said. "Except for me, of course. I run
the place and sometimes I must I be a harsh taskmaster. When men pound your
bum for a while and leave a deposit, they also seem to leave their ill
feelings and annoyances deep in my ass with the sperm."

"Do you return the favor" I asked.

"I do leave birthday good wishes," he said laughing. He leaned close to
me. "Sometimes I leave the birthday wishes three or four times a
year. Robin likes birthdays a lot."

Later that day all the visitors and all the island men met at dinner. It
wasn't a gourmet feast, but the men loved it. After dinner, we adjourned to
the pool. The islanders fell upon the guests like Barbarians who discovered
a cluster of Roman virgins.

It seemed to me that could be a problem. I laughed to myself. My virgin
days were far in the past. Perhaps the other visitors were able to remember
their virgin past. After fifteen minutes in the pool, it was clear that
those memories were very distant.

Little Tom had a good time. He was a full-sized man with short legs and
arms. He was a novelty, but when the men discovered he had an outlandish
sense of humor and the sex needs of a bull in heat, he became more than
popular

Woodrow was handsome and affable. He was sensible, intelligent and
friendly. He was as normal as a man who possessed a cock, vagina and a bum
could be. He had a difficult life until a "patron" found him. The plan had
been to use him as a circus freak, but love intervened. The patron liked
sex with women and was also attracted to men. Woodrow was too attractive to
share.

Later that night, the Erlich Expedition from Berlin joined us. They were
investigating cold climate mammals. Professor Kurt Erlich headed the
expedition. He was with four students: Max, Jurgen, Rolf and Otto. Kurt was
courteous and spoke English well. His students were young, handsome and got
along with the men well. They didn't speak proper English, but erect cocks
are a universal language. I was soon discovered that one of the students
was Rolf von Babbleberg, the son of the General. There were two members of
the expedition who did not visit Boswell Bay. The German expedition was a
clue. It wasn't just a clue, it was a brass band playing at full volume
type clue. I suspected it was a red herring, but it needed to be checked
out.

Rolf was sitting next to me on the edge of the pool. His cock was dripping,
and I could tell it wasn't water. I leaned over and licked it up. He
shivered and shot a single blob of seed into my mouth.

"Ich bin sorry," he said. Apparently, he wasn't a linguist.

"It's good, very good," I replied. He smiled. I hunched down in the water
to take the rest of his load. I discover his arse hole was lubricated, so I
worked a finger in and played with the nut. Rolf loved that. I assume he
had been to a boarding school and had a well-used ass, but boarding school
fucking lacks refinement.

As I sucked Rolf, Shep came up behind me and eased his cock into my
bum. His cock had been hiding in the thicket of hair that was his bush. It
felt great. I couldn't see it, but it hit some new spots in my ass. Rolf
seemed to enjoy the view of the furry man pounding me. The flow of Rolf's
sex juices increased dramatically. Shep had a vocal orgasm and that induced
Rolf to feed me. I had never been filled from both ends before. Shep and
Rolf both enjoyed it. I was able to drain them completely.

This interlude had unexpected benefits for me. While Shep looked like
something the cat dragged in, he was an intelligent man and respected by
the other men. He was smart without a trace of formal education. He
observed and learned whatever he saw. I had let him enjoy me. That had not
happened with an educated man before. Shep liked me and thus the other men
liked me. I was tolerant of cock in my bum, and that indicated to the men
that I was a fine fellow.

Rolf had a different experience. Sex in German schools seem to be related
to rank. Rolf was a big boy and he was unwilling to shove his tool in a
younger boys' asses.  That relegated him to inferior rank. Speed and
brutality were the admired qualities for boy school sex. Rolf was shock
that I savored and enjoyed his orgasm. Mutual enjoyment was a new and
attractive idea for Rolf.

We were to spend a week on the island, looking and listening. I walked
around the edge of the island the next day. If you like austere landscapes,
it was beautiful. The sheep seemed happy and birds were everywhere.

I visited the German expedition's camp. Professor Erlich was interested is
sub-Artic wild life, and it had all the trappings of an academic
expedition. The two men we hadn't met were clearly German Army officers and
had no interest in wildlife. If they had been real spy's they would have
fit in with the academic types. I was convinced there was another source
for the problem. The north side of the island consisted of steep cliffs and
inaccessible beaches.

Duncan, the Captain, offered to take me and some of Erlich's people around
the island on the launch to look at the animal life at the bottom of the
cliffs.  The launch was well-built and suited for rough waters.

The north side of the island was dangerous. There were small places which
were beach like, but rocks and outcroppings made access difficult. Duncan's
right-hand man. Angus skippered the launch, knew all the dangers and tricks
needed to get to a beach safely. Duncan would drop anchor at a safe
distance, and Angus would take the dinghy in. The dinghy could carry four
men. I went in with Kurt, Rolf, Little Tom and Woodrow. Technically we were
overloaded, but Tom was small.

Angus got us in and found was might be called a beach. We were prepared to
spend the night because the place was only accessible at high tide in the
daytime. You couldn't see the rocks at night. A cave provided
shelter. While I was hunting for signs of German Military presence, Kurt
found a new species of gull. It was more correctly a cold weather variant
of a known species, but it excited Kurt and Rolf. This was not
feigned. They were genuinely excited. Little Tom was a superb rock climber
and he was able to get sample nests and broken egg shells.

I found a discarded package of a German Cigarette company and a button with
the Kriegsmarine crest. In the afternoon, Little Tom and I found a way to
get to the top of the cliff in a hidden crack in the cliff wall. The crack
had filled with rock and organic debris. It was steep but not a problem for
healthy men. near the top I found a cigarette butt.

That night we ate and made use of an odd, group sleeping bag. It was made
from the dense, warm wool of the local sheep[BW1].  The cave provided some
shelter from the wind. We ate and went to bed as a soon as it was dark.

The sleeping bag was a wonder. Individual blankets were almost useless in
the winds that penetrated the cave. The thick wool and the body heat of men
in the bag made it warm. We soon discovered that it was too warm.  We were
soon naked. We knew the sexual tastes of all the men and cuddling close was
no hardship.  Angus said vigorous activity would keep us warm, but we
needed to take care not to spill anything. The woolen bag was hard to
clean.

Kurt soon discovered Woodrow's anatomical oddity and he was more than
fascinated. Angus was also interested in Woodrow. His interests were less
scientific and more sensual.

Rolf was surprised at Little Tom's aggressive interest in sex. Tom wasn't
small where it counted, and this surprised Rolf. We all enjoyed the night,
but Woodrow and Kurt were the stars. Kurt's scientific and sexual interest
coincided. Woodrow looked like a man. Kurt found his prostate and wanted to
see if he could get Woodrow to ejaculate from his small, but well-formed
penis. Angus had a different interest. Angus' wife had died years earlier,
and Woody's vagina, brought back memories.

As Kurt's cock stimulated Woody's prostate from the rear, Angus' tool
worked the vagina. As luck would have it, Angus made love to Woodrow. Woody
was used to be considered a freak and he responded affectionately. Usually
making love among man is a just a euphemism for fucking. Cocks are better
at getting hard than expressing affection. Kurt's cock was an exception. He
had just discovered a new species and a true hermaphrodite. His cock
penetrated Woody's bum tenderly and gently.

Angus shot off and fell asleep. Kurt sucked Woody until he moaned and then
Kurt enjoyed the distinctive taste of cock juices drooling from Woody's
cock. He also ate Angus' sperm from the vagina before making his own
deposit. Later, it was drooling out some and I took care of the professor's
seed.

Rolf had discovered the joys of a non-dwarf cock in his ass. While Little
Tom loved fucking, Rolf like Tom's cock more.  When I got in Tom's bum, we
discovered that we shared the same approach to rhythmic screwing. We would
play for an hour, get over heated, sleep a while and then play some
more. Woody was so exciting Rolf had his first hands free climax.

Duncan picked us up the next morning. Angus joined the German expedition
camp for a few days. Kurt was deeply excited by Woodrow, as were the two
German officers. Woodrow thought they were not interested in men sexually,
and he was a nice compromise. He was a man with woman's parts, so sex with
him was acceptable. Kurt made sure the officers were gentle.

Woodrow said the men thought they were uninterested in other men, but that
didn't impact their orgasms and the seemed to like eating their seed from
his vagina and liked sucking his small penis. Woodrow also found that none
of the men in the expedition smoked.

Back at Boswell Bay, the rest of the crew and visitors had replaced the
first group. We returned before noon and things were calm. The frolics in
the pool began at about tea time. I set out on foot to look over the
pastures with Barnabas and Little Tom. Shep was our guide with two of his
mates, Manson and Harry. We all dressed in the heavy wool coats and looked
like some sort of artic apes. It was summer, but the winds were ten to
twenty miles an hour. The sheep were unconcerned.  Harry and Manson knew
the island well. We visited circular clusters of stones called the rings.
They were believed to have been ancient stone houses. Apparently, they had
been once common in England. Harry noticed a disturbed area of turf.

Someone had cut and removed the thick grass, and then replaced it. Only
Harry's hawk like vision noticed the disturbance. We removed the grass and
found fragments of ancient pottery three flint knives and a gold broach.  I
also found two inscribed pottery tablets. We collected these and returned
to the Bay.

Lord Boswell's friends were all a bit eccentric, and well educated in
obscure subjects. Some had been to the island before, for some it was a
first visit. Earl Standwell was young, handsome and much taken by
Sandor. Sandor was a giant of a man who claimed to be Hungary's greatest
sculptor. He was certainly the loudest and best hung. Edgar Billings was
small, slight specialist in dead languages. Grenville Smith was a retired
engineer for the Indian army. Jules LaMaire claimed to a musician and
spiritualist.

The permanent residents considered them to be almost circus performers sent
to the island for their amusement. All the visitors and crew members shared
a considerable interest in sex and a willingness to participate. Lord
Boswell had explained to his guests, that if they had any fond memories of
their lives as virgins, they needed to forget them, and if that were
selective about sexual partners, positions or techniques they would not
enjoy the trip to the island.

They understood that and were open to the sexuality on the island. Some had
never considered the possibility of being fucked by a boiler room
stoker. They all seemed to adapt. In England sex was rare and hidden from
view. On the island it was common and done in public view. Men would talk
and chat while sexually engaged. There might be a gap in the conversation
during orgasms, since sex was public, it was little noted, except for those
who attended to dripping genitals.

Encountering the warmth of the pool, I stripped and joined the men.  On the
side of the room, I found Edgar on all fours taking Billyboy's
cock. Billyboy was Shep's youngest and most disreputable looking mate. I
couldn't believe the cock would fit. A day later I knew that everyone fit
in Edgar's ass.  I showed him the tablets we had found.

Edgar looked at the tablets. He told me they were in an ancient Rune script
in a pre-German language. Billyboy's cock pounding into his ass had no
impact on Edgar's translating skills. Billyboy reached a crescendo and
induced Edgar's orgasm.  There was a rule against sperm on the floor. I
bent over and took Edgar's seed. He had a modest cock and oversized
balls. You could have used his sperm as A pastry filling it was so
plentiful and sweet.

As I licked up the post-orgasmic drool Edgar also told me they were a hoax
and were less than a year old. Humor in the world of dead languages is
rare. Several years earlier at Wittenberg University, the students had
published a collection of fake inscriptions. These included a letter from
Cleopatra with a recipe for Asp Aspic and Helen of Troy's letter saying she
would return to the Greeks if they could find a man with a bigger cock than
Hector's tool. One of the joke inscriptions claimed dominion over France by
an ancient German leader, Mustache Will, who had won France in a spitting
contest. Edgar recalled the Runic script of that hoax was particularly
skillful.

Earl Standwell, Grenville Smith and Sandow joined us with a shepherd,
Brutus. Brutus has a short, thick tool and Smith thought Edgar would like
it. Smith knew Edgar well.  As they screwed, Sandow looked at the
tablets. He knew the clay and said it came from Hungary. There had been a
discovery of ancient pottery near a clay pit near Budapest. This clay had
been marketed as "Hunic" brand clay and was popular with Hungarian
Nationalists. Sandow had done some figurines of mythical Huns catering to
the brief fad for Atilla the Hun art.

Adding modern "ancient" artifacts to a site was odd. I couldn't figure why
anyone would go it. Sandow and Grenville gave me a clue. England was
experiencing a "Jolly Olde England" obsession. There were not enough
buildings of the Tudor or Medieval periods to meet the need, so we were
building new Tudor and Medieval new buildings. If there was a shortage of
ancient artifacts, you could make new ones.

Grenville had encountered a similar event in India. In a border dispute
between two minor Princely States, one state buried ancient statues from
their past in the other state claiming that these statues proved they were
the original rulers of the disputed territories. It was discovered that the
ancient statues were modern and had been made from stones in a quarry
hundreds of miles away.

We were pondering the possibilities when Shep, Harry, and Mason came in
carrying Rolf's body. they found him beaten near one of the rings, he was
seriously hurt. McIntyre did doctoring, but the Captain sent for the first
officer of the yacht who has some medical training.

A group of the men went off to the expedition camp to get Professor Kurt
Erlich and tell them of the attack.  The Professor seem to have more
medical knowledge. They returned with the entire expedition.

Rolf was a bloody mess, but once we cleaned him up it was clearly only a
severe beating. Things were broken and bruised, but it didn't seem to be
life threatening. He was unconscious for two days and couldn't tell us
anything. I went to examine the scene with Barnabas and the two soldiers
attached to the expedition. Apparently, Rolf walked into men who were
depositing additional antiques and was attacked. The two soldiers and came
back very unhappy. There were several discarded objects that were German
Navy issue.

As soon as Rolf regained consciousness he was taken to the yacht and raced
to the nearest port. Some of the passengers stayed on the island, so they
would be room for the expedition members. At full speed the yacht made the
trip in little more than a day. A few hours later specialist from the
University of Edinburgh arrive to take care of Rolf. Rolf's father, the
General, arrived a day later with his wife.

Our medical efforts had saved Rolf's life. We knew it had been a German
attack on another German. It was probably accidental, but the Foreign
Office and the Admiralty said nothing, although there may have been knowing
glances.

General Wolfgang von Babbleberg was not a forgiving man. His wife was even
less so. Nothing was officially said, but the Foreign Office found the
outlines of the scheme by tracing men who were reduced in rank or
discharged. Several men were posted to New Guinea. It had been a
hairbrained scheme to take control of the island by establishing German
ownership in some prehistoric period. It was a stupid idea badly executed.

The German Army was not partial to the German Navy. The massive screw up
was a dream come true for the Army. Attacking a General's son was the least
of the problems, but the time the scheme was exposed. The case was closed,
and all was well.

In late spring of the next year Lord Boswell asked if I might enjoy a trip
to the island with some friends. He told me he had no ulterior motive,
there was no work to be done, it was for recreational purposes. He did
mention that Woodrow, Little Tom and Barnaby would be welcome too. I told
them about his lordship's offer and they were more than willing.

This time Lord Boswell was visiting the island with Edgar, Earl Standwell
and Sandow returning to the island along with my group, and some new
men. Caldecott Jones was a philosopher and was with his companion David, a
gardener.  Gustave White and Gordon were actors. At the last-minute General
von Babbleberg and his aide, Otto walked up the gangplank. Lord Boswell had
been courteous and attentive caring for the General when Rolf was
recovering. The two men must had discovered other shared interests. I knew
the islands residents tended to be egalitarian and wondered how his
Lordship and the General might react to that.

Captain Ronald Duncan went at near maximum speed and the ship was more than
shipshape. No German General was going to find a speck of dust in his
ship. The weather was good and the sky clear. On the ship everyone was
conventionally polite although there were some glances at Woodrow and
Little Tom. Woodrow was shy, but Little Tom was outgoing and
engaging. Little Tom spoke German, and apparently was funnier in German
than in English.

We had an island version of tea, cakes and beer. Lord Boswell's visit
insured good attendance.  Many of the men had difficult lives and the
island suited them well. they knew that was only through his generosity.

Lord Boswell looked small and slim in the collection of oversized men, but
he was average, pale, and blond, his body hair was all but invisible. His
cock was average too, but his balls were large and hung low. The General
was tall, with bushy mutton chops, a mustache, and muscular body, he was
physically imposing. He must have spent some time out in the air swimming;
his body was tanned, as was his aide, Otto. Caldecott was small. but in
good shape, David was taller and stocky. Hard work insured that there was
not an ounce of fat on his body. I was all muscle.  The actors were young,
handsome and elegant.

There was a lot of splashing and laughing. When that calmed down, the men
clustered in little groups. Lord Boswell was with several of the older men
and two of the youngest. The older men were holding one of the younger men,
so Boswell could fuck him. they were all laughing, including the
impressively erect young man who was talking the Lord's tool.

Shep, Harry and Mason were with the General. Mason was sucking the
General's tool. A little later the General was sucking Harry as Shep pumped
his cock into the General's bum. It wasn't the General's first time and I
knew enough to see Shep's cock was a good fit. Otto was taken with
Woodrow. I had a feeling that being with a handsome may while he pumped his
cock into him was good for Otto.

When I looked back at Lord Boswell, he was in a hammock like contraption
with his legs open wide. He was taking the cock of anyone who was
interested. That group included all the island's residents. The men were
polite and gentle and asked if he wanted to take their loads. He said yes,
and all was well. He, like the Captain, knew how to keep the men happy.

Rockland McIntyre was the last man to enter his Lordship's bum. "I keep
thinking it can't be better than last year," Rockland said as he
ejaculated. "It is better, isn't it Sir?"

"it is the high point of the year," Lord Boswell replied. "Who get to eat
it this year?"

"I won the lottery," Rockland replied. he dropped to his knees and began to
lick the drooling man seed. Rockland remembered all the men who had fucked
his lordship and made comments. "Shep had a few more beers than usual, this
year. Harry has been holding back, it's thicker than usual. The men laughed
as did his lordship. More of the creamy fluid drooled from his hole as he
laughed. At the end of the night, the delicate philosopher Caldecott Jones
was with Rockland eating the dried cum from his beard.



[BW1]