Excavating a Monastery 6 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.
The next few days were a madhouse, but the BBC staff and Sparky's people were efficient. Our own staff was good as always. Fergus and Nigel were helpful and squashed the bad ideas of the people on entertainment side of the BBC. Sparky's people were staying at Alistair's mansion with Olivia. She was both a good excavator and a diplomat. She solved problems and cleared up misunderstandings[BW1].
Big and Little Dick were available to guide the technical crew. Big Dick was a bit scary, and little Dick was a minor nobleman. That impressed the Americans. The technical crew accidentally uncovered a Viking grave. The two Dicks came to the rescue and salvaged the weapons and some of the remaining bones. They did it quickly and the technical crew all but adopted them. What had been a screw up was now an interesting footnote.
Roddy, my team captain, was helpful. He was a problem solver, and the technical group was used to laboratories, not Scottish hill tops on the North Sea. The MacCall brothers were exotic, space aliens to the Americans, speaking a foreign language. To some of them the MacCalls exerted a mystical control over the sheep as did Billy Boy and Cliff Queen, their Alpha dogs. The dogs were ambassadors of good will. The Technical team dopped exotic food and scraps to the dogs' delight.
The big day came. Dignitaries were at Alistair's house with computer connection to the excavation. As much as possible was done remotely with cameras and drones feeding monitors. A climate control bubble protected the site. The hydraulic lifts were in place.
The technicians turned on the lifts and they slowly connected with the top slab of the grave and began lifting it. Little bits of dust and grunge came loose, and automatic vacuums took care of that. When the top was clear of the base, the lifts quickly lifted in out of the way. Four bumble bee sized drones flew in and broadcast a view of the interior. A skull enveloped in a monk's cowl look heavenward.
Merlinus' robes were complete, and his skeletonized arms clasped a bible. At the foot was the book of his teachings. To one side was a processional cross, on the other was a chalice, and other objects associated with communion.
The little drones made x-rays and Merlin was six feet three. He was a foot taller than men of the period. Merlin was a giant.
At that point, our crew went in. The body was on an iron bed. That meant that the body could be lifted without much disturbance. Olivia lifted the chalice. It was gold encrusted with jewels.
When Mud lifted the book, it came apart. For a few moments it was shocking. The book was a gold encrusted box protecting the book inside. The book of Merlin's teachings was in perfect condition. Mud lifted the book in its wooden box and placed it into a carrying case. He and Olivia carried it to a high-tech enclosed vehicle.
The opening of the grave made for spectacular television. The newspapers referred to it as Star Wars[BW2] meets a Scottish sheep pasture. Later that day a camera recorded opening the protective box, removing the book, and opening to the first page. It was a portrait of Merlin, in his robes encircled by stunningly elaborate interlace decoration. The book was in near perfect condition and was written in Latin and a form of Celtic on opposite pages.
It seemed the Latin was in a pure style, and I suspected that Merlin was familiar with Ovid and Virgil. The portrait could have been that of a Roman dignitary. As with the fabrics in the cave chamber, the clothes were delicate, but mostly of fine local wool.
I was interviewed and said that Merlin appeared to be a monk, theologian, and teacher. He was apparently a scholar and preacher. Later on we found that some of the pages seemed to suggest he was a poet too. Fergus asked if I had found and incantations or spells.
I explained that from the richness of the burial, he was clearly much admired and honored. This was more typical of a king's burial, except a bible, cross and chalice were placed in the tomb instead of a sword and shield. While the usual view of the Dark Ages was as mysterious and barbaric, Merlin seemed to be a learned man, admired for his intellectual nature. The excavation was sensational, but it was a blow to the fake sorcerers, magicians, and the mystic-crystal crowd.
Two days later the high-tech equipment was on the way back to Skippy's laboratories in Philadelphia. We were back to digging and exploring. Skippy and Alistair's people were good. Excavations site was undamaged and largely undisturbed.
There was an odd byproduct of the broadcast. An interest in sheep seemed to sweep the nation. The sheep were charming and placid surrounded by the high-tech equipment. We had found sheep skulls on the site. DNA and radiocarbon dating indicated that they were indeed related to the modern herd. They were a living link to the Middle Ages.
I was possible when the original residents fled from the Vikings, several sheep were left behind. Angus MacCall told a BBC correspondent that no self-respecting shepherd would leave the sheep to the Vikings, but some would have been missed. I later learned that the interview was shown with subtitles in the United States. I could understand the MacCall accent, but it was a chore.
The technicians who worked outside discovered sweaters made of the local wool and discovered it both kept them warm and dry. There was a "Whiff of the Highlands" from the sweaters, but you were warm and dry. The described the wool as being up to the challenge. That revived interest in the wool market in the Highlands.
Roddy was running the field work and I was sent back to St. Andrews University to help with the translations. I had spent the last five years working with late Roman inscriptions and some Celtic fragments, so apparently, I was regarded as an expert in the language of the period. The number of people working on the period was small and I had discovered many of the surviving fragments.
Roger was still busy taking photographs of the manuscripts. They were spectacular. There was a second group working on the palimpsests, the erased documents that had been over written. This required specialized techniques. We knew the basic components of Egyptian ink, but since ink was handmade, it wasn't consistent.
Roger had an assistant, Leroy, who worked for Sparky. He had a scanner that could scan for particular chemicals and elements. It was possible to print out particular chemicals. Scotland had an entirely different set of chemicals and Elements.
Simply put, you could turn off the Scottish chemicals and turn on the Celtic period chemicals. You ended up with the Coptic items clearly indicated. This had to be adjusted every few days when the old ink was replaced with new ink of a slightly different mix. This was tedious, but both Roger and Leroy had a high tolerance for tedium.
I met a specialist in Coptic translations, Stephan Dover PhD. Stephan was a middle-aged man who I suspected had not seen actual daylight in years. He specialized in the Coptic language and early Ethiopian writing; that could be helpful too. Stephan was not a social butterfly, but he was conventionally polite and became quite animated when talking about dead African languages. When not talking about languages, Stephan was a fog, barely noticing the world around him.
We got along well since I could talk with him about his interests and give him background information on the excavation and on the Celtic background. He believed there was a connection between Coptic and Celtic monasticism. It was possible this document explained the connection.
Stephan and I both stayed with Magnus. His house was convenient to the library where the documents were stored, and Magnus had no problem with Stephan's irregular hours. I assumed he ate at some time, but I never found out when.
I had gone to a pub for a sandwich, become involved in a pub quiz, covered myself in glory and had returned to Magnus's house. I was taking a shower when Stephan returned. He walked in the bathroom; immediately stripped and joined me. Most of my cock was in his mouth before I knew what was happening.
I had a few beers at the pub, and the unexpected connection with Stephan didn't bother me at all. A few minutes later we dried off, went to my bed and I fucked him off and on for the next hour. I fell asleep after I had drained my balls in his ass. The next morning Stephan told me I fell asleep while I was ejaculating.
At breakfast Stephan told Magnus and me his life story. For fifteen years had had be the tenant and sex slave of a distinguished professor of comparative linguistics. He had died two years earlier, and he had no sexual experiences since then. While I was nothing like his late lover, my cock was a dead ringer for his lover's tool. Stephan actually said my cock was perhaps an inch and a quarter larger. Stephan was painfully precise. Only he would describe a cock in fractions.
"I assume most men wouldn't object to being sucked," he said.
"I assumed you wouldn't object to me shooting me load into your ass," I said.
Stephan had no sense of humor. "Not at all. Your orgasm was much stronger than my late partner's ejaculations. It was intensely pleasurable," he replied. Magnus was most amused. We had a productive day at the library.
The next night Magnus, Sydney and I had a good time with Stephan. Stephan had associated sex with his late partner and assumed the only cock that would satisfy him would be similar to his partner's genitals. Magnus was an impressive and commanding man. He was accustomed to being obeyed.
I thought this would shock Stephan, but Magnus had a good understanding of the sexual needs of strange academics. Stephan loved it. Sydney took a turn and that was good too. A little later I sat on Stephan's cock. He began spurting the second he slipped past my sphincter. He had never fucked a man before.
His partner a sexual Johnny-one-note. He fucked; Stephan bottomed. He kept on shooting as he slipped deeper into my ass. My entire ass was bathed in his hot sperm. It was a new and pleasurable experience for me. For Stephan it was an all, new world of pleasure.
While Magnus and Sydney were well experienced men, they both enjoyed the pleasure experienced by their partners. One way they judged their sexual skills was in the reactions of their playmates. Stephan felt pleasure, but I am not sure his late partner recognized that. Stephan had a new life.
Stephan went off to the library as usual the next morning but returned to Magnus's house at six the next evening. He was amazed at the amount of work he had done in a short time. I assumed he had unconsciously extended his time working to fill up his day. The prospect of sexual adventure had dramatically speeded up the process.
While Magnus and Sydney were notably over sexed, I wasn't sure if Stephan was their cup of tea. We went to a nearby restaurant and had a good dinner. I soon realized that I had misjudged Magnus. If you had a cock, you were his cup of tea. If you had a willing ass, you were his cup of tea with milk and sugar.
Magnus said he like to help men find themselves. That wasn't entirely false, but rectal therapy and multiple orgasms were not standard approaches to self-discovery. His approach worked for Stephan. Stephan had a personality when there was a cock up his ass.
The next day we were at a restaurant and we met one of Magnus's former students, Ian. Ian was thirty-four and a bit shy, until the subject turned to ancient languages. His strong suit was ancient middle eastern languages but included Coptic and Ethiopian alphabets. Curiously, he had discovered sex with Sydney and through him met Magnus.
We returned to Magnus's house, had a few more beers, and somehow ended up naked. I some ways Ian was more shy and up tight than Stephan. Being with three semi-erect men had an effect. I gave him a welcome suck and after a few licks I could almost feel the tension flow from his body. He appeared to have a stubby, short cock when he was soft. It grew to a thick seven. He was uncut and when the skin pulled back his knob was sensitive.
"We are all close friends, intimate friends here. Would you like to join us?" Magnus asked. "you could think of it as a playgroup for adult men."
"Oh yes," Ian moaned.
"We have been having fun for a long time. If we do something you don't like, just tell us," Sydney said. "If you do something we don't like, we will let you know."
Magnus laughed and said, "To tell you the truth, nothing has been a problem in years. I like to share everything, my cock, my ass, my mouth and the contents of my balls."
"Do you take it in the ass?" Ian asked in near whisper.
"I do it all. I hope we might become good friends," Magnus replied.
I think there is a fine line between being sexually generous and being a slut. Magnus, Ian and I all slipped into the slut mode and we had a wonderful time. Stephan came back later from the library and joined in. We all had deposited loads of sperm in an ass, and Stephan discovered sperm was a prefect lubricant.
Ian was totally unlike Stephan's late partner, but a common interest in dead languages and in ancient sexual practices enhanced the sexual attraction.
Next day I had a call from Eddie, the town constable. Scotland Yard found a strange outbreak of chat on the internet. A person called "the Spirit" claimed the BBC program had been faked and Merlin was alive on the excavation site awaiting rescue. Merlin was apparently in suspended animation. I assumed it was a joke, but Eddie's sources believed "the Spirit" had followers who were planning to raid the excavation site and free Merlin. People of a credulous disposition seemed to regard actual expertise in a subject as inherently flawed and internet ravings as gospel truth.
Scotland Yard gave Eddie the information but apparently were not sending people to help out. Eddie thought they regarded rural Scotland as a foreign country. Scottish authorities were busy policing the Edinburg Festival. There was talk of a bomb attack there. I wondered if the Moon was full. The loonies were restless.
The Chief Constable had two men available. That was it. Constable Douglass Miller and Sara Dudley arrived. Douglass was a month from retirement and had a heart condition. Sara was smart and eager, but small and short. Alistair had a good supply of security men available. He sent his head man, Rudolph Dieter to meet with us.
Dieter was a tall German who could have played Siegfried in a Wagner opera. I figured there was no way he would hit it off with Douglass, Sara, and Eddie. Dieter's father was a retired cop in Hamburg who had a heart condition. He was differential to Douglass, and he impressed Eddie and Sara by asking for their advice. Sara's boyfriend in London was monitoring the web, so we had an early warning system. Eddie knew all the locals and the site well.
Alistair wanted Olivia to stay away from the site. I assumed he knew that was hopeless. She had Penny as a bodyguard and Mud. Penny had once said that if anyone tried something with Olivia they would never find the body. Olivia was a hard worker and her access to fresh from the oven pastries made her popular with the crew.
Dieter told me that Olivia insisted she be treated like anyone else in the crew. He did ask me to tell him if I saw anything remotely problematic to let him know. He described himself as a problem solver. I suspected he made problems go away. Dieter was also a dog lover. That solved any problem with the MacCalls. Their dogs had standards, so if they liked him, the MacCalls liked him.
A good portion of the protection was invisible. Drones and heat detecting planes were high in the sky. Skippy was working on internet tracing software, so if a threat appeared online, we were warned.
I thought this was much ado about nothing, but Skippy's people were not so sure. There was a chance that it was decoy, and true objective was the objects in the museum storage rooms and laboratories. If the threat was real, I was worried about damaging the site and any finds in the ground. Most of the finds technically belonged to Alistair. This was in the gap period between discovery and the final dispositions. All the major objects would eventually belong to the government. A few works would go to museums in the United States and some Viking items to Scandinavian museums.
Dieter lived in what looked like a double wide. It was a high-tech command and communication center. Under the conventional vinyl siding was a composite wall system capable of surviving a bomb attack. He had a bedroom and siting room for his own use. Dieter was a conventional, corporate security type. He was wherever he was needed. That made conventional family life impossible. It was fine for a man without conventional sexual tastes. His private life was unknown to me, but he discovered that he shared some interests with Eddie and Mud. They told him I was a member of the fraternity.
I was at a late meeting at Dieter's command center with Eddie and Dieter. It was almost ten and I had mapped out the sensitive areas I wanted to protect. Dieter would tell his men to direct potential looters away for theses areas. This was a normal practice for him, although usually it was for gates or sensitive equipment.
There was a rapping at the door. It was Mud. He was on a social call and I could tell the meeting was to have been over an hour earlier. I got up to leave.
"We were going to have a drink and relax," Dieter said. "Eddie told me you might like to join us. I think you are friendly with them." He rubbed his crotch as he said that. I smiled and we went to his bedroom suite.
"It's late, I was thinking that we might dispense with the drink and get down to basics," Mud said as he stripped off his shirt. Dieter was a good looking, uptight man. He was always prim and proper every shirt looked as if it had been just pressed. His pants looked as if you might cut your self on the crease. I was naked when I saw him naked.
His body was that of a Greek god, his cock could have been used as a battering ram, it was thick, long and imposing. My own cock seemed delicate in comparison. I played hard to get by trying to swallow the entire organ. When I pulled back, I had a mouth full of precum. He looked cool and collected. His cock was ready for action. Dieter had a split personality. He was either all business and obsessively competent at his work, or a sexual sponge when he was naked and erect.
He didn't seem frantic or driven sexually. Dieter wanted to give and to get as much pleasure as possible in the relatively short periods of rest and relaxation.