YOUNG JEREMY TAYLOR - 7
Copyright 2006 by Carl Mason
All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author. "Young Jeremy Taylor" is strictly fictional. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. As in real life, however, the sexual themes unfold gradually. Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the author at carl_mason@comcast.net
This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both adults and teenagers. As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature, adults. If you are not of legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral dilemmas in your life, please leave. Finally, remember that maturity generally demands safe sex.
CHAPTER 7
(Revisiting Chapter 6)
As their Squad waited to march out on the field, Jeremy quietly joked with Kazan about nudity on Precopius, suggesting that it seemed to be the rule rather than the exception. With laughter in his voice, his friend suggested that he should work on not giving them so much to celebrate!
When they finally swung out onto the field at quite a stiff pace, the blond Earthman noticed that he was finally mastering the Precopian marching step. Yes, it was still something of a bumpy ride, but he was actually getting it! When they paused to add ceremonial spears to the drill later in the session, even Kazan complimented him on his progress. "You look and act more like a true Precopian every day!" he laughed. As the sweat poured down his naked body, a panting Earthman grinned with pleasure at his buddy's words.
(Continuing Our Story - Celebrations of Home)
True, the Emperor's words on what were termed the "sex regulations" didn't finally settle anything. The competing pressures were too deeply intertwined into the very fabric of the culture. Nevertheless, they did get Lieutenant Arius off Jeremy's back in Interplanetary Soc. That, and the fact that he was slowly, albeit fitfully and painfully, making peace with his sexuality introduced a certain peace into his daily life that he hadn't enjoyed for some time. He was even able to offer his apologies to Forenshii and at least reestablish that relationship open to somewhat wary friends. Had it not been for his mother's sudden death from an undiscovered and incurable cancer, it would have been a pleasant interlude in his life. Even that seemed to happen a long ways away and be handled by people he knew only vaguely. The important thing was that the Superintendent spoke with him, assured him of the Academy's support, and arranged for him to return to Earth for the funeral. While there, Jeremy was heartened by brief hyperspace messages from Kazan's family and from the Emperor. After a fortnight, however, he was glad to be returning...home.
The blond-haired cadet returned to a planet that was caught up in preparations for its most important celebration, a celebration that took place only once every four years, the "Precopian Games." As Kazan told him the story, Jeremy realized that this was a story he knew...albeit as the "Olympic" Games. Kazan grinned and recounted how archeological digs on Precopius suggested that both games developed at much the same time. Precopian lore held that there had been some contact between the ancient Greeks and the ancient Precopians, but the proof had long been lost in the mists of time. Jeremy was beside himself! He had wrestled for four years and loved the sport. He would compete. Kazan was forced to tell him that as the Olympic games had been open only to Greeks, the Precopian Games were open only to citizens of the Alliance. Even citizens of the wider Federation, including citizens of Earth, were ineligible. The look on the blond athlete's face promised trouble for someone!
Jeremy must have contacted 20 offices and a 35 or more individuals. In each case, the answer was respectful, and even regretful, but it was the same: "As the Olympic games had been open only to Greeks, the Precopian Games were open only to citizens of the Alliance." In desperation, the young cadet went to Kazan's father and asked him if he could possibly speak personally with the Minister of Sport. On the eighth day, a small, hand-carried envelope arrived. Noticing the Imperial seal, the young lad opened it with trembling fingers. Indeed, it was from the Emperor. The rules were the rules and could not be changed by the gods or man, it read. Nevertheless, a royal forebearer had taken action in the third century of the Common Era that might provide a precedent, even though it had not been invoked since. He decreed that a youth from a neighboring planet could compete, but only as a surrogate for the gods. If victorious, he would receive no prize, for it would have to be burned in the altar fires as a worthy sacrifice. Was Jeremy conceivably interested in this possibility? Birds and small creatures in the park where he was sitting abruptly disappeared as the blond youth let out a mighty shout, Y-E-S-S-S-S-S! and punched his fist high in the air.
Sadly, things were not all that easy for the new "surrogate" when Kazan told Forinth what had happened, Forinth told Estor who told Mubar who told . . . ad infinitum. Suddenly, students began bowing when he appeared, sometimes even going so far as to try lifting his shoe onto the back of their necks. On entering the library one day, two students ran ahead of him, throwing flower petals, while a third student blew on a great ram's horn. (A security guard had to quell the near riot that ensued.) Do not think that this nonsense was restricted to students! Two of his instructors began ringing small bells whenever he entered or began to leave the classroom. Even the Superintendent had a shit-eating grin on his face whenever he saw him. And Kazan, Toby, Sejennah, and Askurus? How about his dorm mates, Forenshii, and his other friends? Don't even think about it!
In truth, the whole area was gearing up for a major holiday. One Friday night, for instance, Jeremy saw some of the new facilities being readied from the air as he and Kazan headed across town for dinner. Hundreds of participants had already arrived to continue their training in the area. As thousands of guests began to pour into Precopius City, the excitement grew exponentially. Over the millennia, most people had taken to sleeping outside, under the stars, in the hills surrounding the city. Some of the wealthy and members of official delegations stayed with friends or in hotels in town, though many others erected elaborate tents and pavilions in favorite spots out in the country. Merchants, craftsmen, and food vendors arrived to sell their wares. They did not lack entertainment, for there was a busy schedule of ceremonies, speeches, recitals, parades, banquets, carnivals, and booster celebrations. There was something for everyone in the noisy throng. It was not a good time to try to move around town. It seemed that some Academy groups such as the band spent more time away from school than they did in their rooms and in study. Relying on food and drink brought in from all over the Alliance, not to speak of supplies purchased throughout the Federation, the Games Committee began the public feasts during the week preceding the opening ceremonies. (In earlier days, of course, these had been sacrificial feasts presided over by priests, but the years had seen them become increasingly secular.)
One tradition much loved by Kazan's family, other affluent families, and the nobility took place on the two nights before the opening. Following formal dinners, they traveled to a great pavilion that hosted one of the finest evenings of dance in the Galaxy. (Seats were passed down from father to son, and woe to the host who needed extra ones. Hours would be spent in chasing down rumors; significant amounts of gold would exchange hands when and if they were found.) Whatever else was on the program, it would always include some variation on two dances. The first of these, the gymnopaedia, had its origin in the education of Spartan youth on Earth. By dancing strenuously in the summer heat, Plato commented that Spartan youth were trained in both musical grace and warrior grit at the same time! On Precopius, it was always danced by young men in the nude to the strains of a flute. The second, the Pyrrhic dance, grew out of basic military training and was performed in armor. The steps originally trained young soldiers in the movements they would need to overtake the enemy...or to flee from him, to fight, and to leap high or vault in jumping ditches or walls. These were followed by the Tetacomos, a square figure with slow majestic movement. It, too, was danced by nude young men to the strains of a flute. (It might be noted that several suits of Precopian armor that were used in this dance dated from the very early days of recorded history on the planet.)
On the night of the opening ceremonies, Jeremy, who would dance in the mass spectacle, was in the performers' tent with Kazan who was helping him get ready. "You know we don't use jockstraps," Kazan noted, "but we do have a substitute that goes back into antiquity. When you're built as large as you are, my friend, you just can't have it flopping around during the dance." "I know," replied the blond. "That's been a problem during the practices. What do I do?" "The problem on this planet," Kazan continued, "is that the sight of the glans in an uncircumcised man is taken as evidence of sexual arousal. That's a major social no-no and opens you to charges of being a real brute, as well as being backward and little better than a slave who's probably circumcised. Hence, when you get into a situation where you need a little extra stability or you're afraid you might get a hard-on, you pull out one of these little things." With these words, Kazan pulled out a thin leather strip called a "kynodesme." "Yeah, and now what?" Jeremy muttered, interested despite himself. "Well, you've got two choices," Kazan continued. "If you don't have much down there, tie one end of the kynodesme around the end of your foreskin [prepuce] and then hook the other end around the base of your penis...like this. It just raises it in the air a bit and secures it so it won't bounce around. I'm sure it sounds strange to an Earthman, but it works!"
Scratching himself a bit, he said, "With you I don't really advise that." He grinned lecherously as he added, "You've got too much to get out of the way. It's much better to wear a belt of thin leather around your waist and bring the free end of the kynodesme upwards until you can tie it off on the belt. See? Your beautiful cock is then maintained in an upright position, slightly raising your balls and fully exposing and displaying your scrotum. Those idiots who write books on good manners say that is most pleasing to the eye." Smirking obscenely, his room mate reached down and drew his hand up over Jeremy's equipment from the heavy balls in the depths of his sack, up over the soft folds of the long crinkled pouch, and up the somewhat swollen shaft until his fingers reached the tied off foreskin. Not unexpectedly, he got a muttered oath and a good whack on the upper arm for his troubles - followed, of course, by a wide grin!
Everyone agreed that this year's ceremonies were spectacular. Preceded by the blaring of trumpets, the Emperor, riding in an open coach drawn by four magnificent horses that also held the Head of the Games Committee and, as a special honor, the Chief Magistrate of Mortonia, passed between double lines of handsome young men who held flaring torches. (A row of large gas-fired torches also ringed the stadium rim.) In the background, massed bands played Alliance hymns and songs of the Games. As soon as they had been shown to their seats in the packed, cheering stadium, the glorious Academy band in their scarlet berets preceded the contestants who walked informally with friends from their home planet and, perhaps, new friends made during training. Once the several hundred youthful athletes - their oiled bodies gleaming in the torchlight, their faces joyful and their eyes determined - had gathered in the center of the field, the Emperor declared the Games open. As artillery roared and the bands played the anthem of the Alliance, the Sacred Fire was relit and Isandrious IX administered the Oath.
The Head of the Games Committee gave a reasonably brief speech about values of the Games, expectations of participants and spectators, the location of several venues, and the role of the judges. He also mentioned that a team activity was included in program for the very first time. Open only to boys 14 and under, he assured everyone that the Muhrtog matches would not unduly detract from the individual focus of the competition. (Little did he know that 40,000 spectators would nearly fill the 50,000-seat stadium to watch 13 and 14 year-olds play in the Muhrtog final!)
The first evening of the Games concluded with a massed gymnastic dance spectacle that was brilliantly presented and thoroughly enjoyed by the 55,000 or so onlookers in the stadium.
Wreaths of Victory
For some days, everyone was thrown into great activity and concentration as the competition took place and wreaths of olive leaves, native to Precopius and several other planets in the Alliance, were awarded to the winners.
From the very beginning of the wrestling competition, Jeremy was a great favorite of the crowd. For a strongly built man, he moved with the grace of a cat. Time and time again, his muscles moved fluidly beneath his golden skin as he bent and stretched himself over and around to pin his opponent and win another match. Or the muscles in his oiled thighs would tighten as he made sure that another opponent would not escape. He had been comfortable with the kynodesme during the dance; he was as comfortable with it in competition. As Kazan had promised, everything was out of the way and he was able to concentrate on the challenge at hand.
Kazan was doing famously in the 150-kaypek (1500 meter) race, winning his first three heats. It was all on the line in his final heat, for the top eight men would race for the gods and individual honor.
The big surprise at the Games, of course, had been the "14 and Under" Muhrtog competition. It had been designed as something of a sop to those who wanted competition on something more than an individual basis, e.g., teams, regions, even planets. Their cause was to be downplayed by allowing only the youngest contestants to take part, while the Alliance's greatest players were kept on the sidelines. This ploy didn't work. The various matches were well subscribed and, from the noisy reaction of the crowds, the 13 and 14 year-old contestants could have been the finest athletes in the Alliance. As noted earlier, by the time that toss-in for the championship match neared, over 40,000 seats of the 50,000 in Precopius City's main stadium were full. The match fully justified the crowd's enthusiasm. Jeremy, who by this time was working with the Precopian team on which Toby played, said later that there were few matches in recent years that had so excited him. The Nescrolian team was good, but not that good!
As Toby and the other boys walked off the stadium floor towards the tunnel to the locker rooms, singing, their arms around their teammates, they approached the Emperor who had come down out of the stands. As he stood applauding with his entourage, Toby (his victory wreath securely on his head) saw him. In the euphoria of victory, paying not the slightest heed to the place or to who was involved, Toby broke into a wide smile and enthusiastically waved as he shouted, "Afternoon, Sir!" Isandrious IX smiled in response, stepped onto the track, and motioned for Toby to approach. The boy raced over and just about knocked the Emperor back into the stands as his sweaty body slammed against him. Kneeling on one knee on the muddy track, the leader of the Precopians gathered the boy into an affectionate embrace, one hand around his waist, the other hand resting on his beautiful buttocks. (At just that moment a photographer caught a picture that would go down in Imperial history. The Emperor would quickly sign one copy and give it to Toby in a gold frame!) After a moment, the Emperor whispered something private into his ear, gently slapped him on the rump, and sent him on with his fellows. As he stepped back, his entourage - indeed, all those who had witnessed the incident - applauded and cheered wildly. Toby, who was almost to the mouth of the tunnel, couldn't understand what all the fuss was about and kept going towards the showers.
At dinner that night in the Kazan home, custom called for Toby and Jeremy (who had won his wrestling wreath in a fantastic match against a much larger and stronger opponent) to wear their wreaths. Given the fact that Kazan had been nosed out in the championship race in the final blek (foot) - and his (Jeremy's) wreath had been burned on an altar by the High Priest of all the Precopians - they had decided not to. Conversation still centered on the Games. Askurus, for example, was asked if he and his mother had seen any of the final matches. Yes, he answered; they had seen all three of them. While he had enjoyed the spectacle, he did have a question. "Yes, brother?" Jeremy said. "Well," Askurus replied, "doesn't it seem immoral to you for two ckepski [Precopian slang for "foreigners;" vulgar and highly insulting] to win victory wreaths and for a great Precopian to come away with nothing?" Toby sat back in his chair white-faced. As hot tears ran down his face, Jeremy looked as if he was on the verge of being violently ill. Almost knocking the chair over, he got up and raced out the door that led to the garden.
Within minutes, Kazan found Jeremy slumped on the bench in the copse of trees and weeping bitterly. "No one believes what Askurus said," he quietly stated as he put his arm around the youth who had become his brother, his friend, and his roommate. "I don't think that even Askurus does. He was just being a little ten year-old shit. Before we're through, I suspect that he'll hear privately from everyone in the family. Besides, brother, I have to tell you that I sure as hell don't believe it!" Deeply hurt, the blond youth continued to sob as if his heart had been broken. The truth, of course, is that he had decided some time ago to petition the Emperor to be received as a citizen of Precopius. Besides, knowing how much he had missed siblings in his earlier life, his feelings towards his three new brothers were intense...something he would go to almost any length to protect. The blow, coming from such an unexpected quarter, had really unnerved him. Further, until this time, he had not dared to examine his feelings for Kazan all that closely. Intuition told him that this was an explosive matter.
Gathering him into his arms, Kazan quickly realized how deeply Jeremy had been wounded. Despite earlier oaths never to let the blond know of his overwhelming feelings for him, he began to kiss him, whispering how much he loved him and how impossible his life would be without him. Beginning to return Kazan's kisses feverishly, Jeremy felt himself becoming aroused. He wanted nothing less than to throw Kazan down on the ground and show him how deeply he cared and how much Kazan excited his passions. Just seconds before simultaneously pushing apart, they both exploded in their rehnaxi. "Well, that's something that I didn't count on," Kazan muttered in some surprise. "Yeah, but it's real and we're going to have to deal with it," his blond compatriot replied.
To Be Continued