Date: Thu, 10 Jan 2013 19:37:30 -0500
From: Jake Preston <jemtling@gmail.com>
Subject: Wayward Island 11

Wayward Island (Part 11)
How Jake and Red Feather came to be toxophilites
By Jake Preston


      Reader restrictions: no minors, no readers who are offended by explicit
descriptions of gay sexuality. The story as a whole is a psychological study of gay
athletic hunks who love nerds, and the nerds who love them in return. The story
also deals with the problems faced by gay guys who live in rural areas. If these
themes don't interest you, there are many other great "nifty" stories to choose
from. Send comments and suggestions to jemtling@gmail.com. Jake will respond
to all sincere correspondents. Remember, readers, support nifty with your
contributions!

      This episode happened on the Wednesday before Jake's Ojibwe initiation.
In terms of chronology, it should precede Chapter 10, but Jake says was working
from sketchy notes, and had to reconstruct some details from memory. Hence the
delay. A "toxophilite" is a lover of archery. The word is used by Roger Ascham in
Toxophilus (1545), a contemplative dialogue about archery dedicated to King
Henry VIII.  -Editor.

      *   *   *   *   *  *  *

	Mrs. Ravitch called a work-session for me and Red Feather in the studio.
Our task was a play-reading -- Euripides's Alcestis -- as preparation for modeling
Apollo and Admetus in her painting. "Jake," she admonished, "you must
understand Apollo's character and become Apollo, just like an actor preparing for
a play. Red Feather," she told him, "you must do the same for Admetus."  We
were to think of the play-reading as research on the historia for "Apollo and
Admetus"-the narrative behind the painting-even though Euripides deviates
from the original myth. The play was first performed in Athens in 438 BC, but
Euripides was not responsible for the deviations. He followed the story as it
appeared in an earlier play by Phrynichus, whose his works are lost, but
mentioned in other Greek sources. For most of the Phrynichus-Euripides
deviations, the motivation was avoidance of the scandalous scene of Admetus
playing the role of erastes (a top) with Apollo, who played the role of eromanos
(a bottom). It was Mrs. Ravitch's intent to depict the original myth in the central
panel of the triptych-a three-part group of paintings that tells a story. Knowing
this made the play interesting, at least for us.

      Earlier, while reading Alcestis on my own, I noted that Apollo always
carried an unstrung bow and arrows. I'm not an expert archer, but on my farm I
have two bows. One is a recurve crossbow; the other is a somewhat shorter
composite bow. Recurve bows are just a technological improvement on longbows,
which date back to the Ice Age, 10,000 BC. Composite bows date back to Egypt
in 2800 BC. Apollo would have preferred a composite bow for more accurate
shooting, but mine looked busy and modern, so I chose the recurve bow, a simpler
talisman for Apollo.

      Randy, Tom, and Billy White Cloud came to the play-reading. Mrs.
Ravitch assigned them roles: Randy played the Chorus, Tom played the role of
Death (a personified character), and Billy played all the bit parts (servants, the
chorus leader, and Pheres, the father of Admetus). "While we're reading the
play," Mrs. Ravitch said, "we'll stop the action for comments or questions
whenever we come across some detail that might be relevant to the painting of
Apollo and Admetus. Our goal is to understand the characters as seen by
Euripides."

	She reminded us that Apollo drops out of the play after the first scene, but
Herakles takes his place, when he comes to Thessaly as a guest and a friend of
Admetus. "Symbolically, Herakles is really just an extension of Apollo," she said.
"On the Athenian stage, they were played by the same actor, so we can
understand Apollo by studying Herakles."

	I read the first passage, a long speech by Apollo: "This is the home of
Admetus, where I laid aside my divinity and took meals with slaves! The cause of
my misfortune was Zeus. He had struck Asclepius, my son, with lightning that
bolted him full in the chest, and laid him dead. In took revenge by slaying the
Cyclopes who forge the fire of Zeus. To atone for this, my father Zeus forced me
to labor as a slave for a mortal man. I came to this country (Thessaly) and tended
oxen for my host (Admetus). To this hour I have protected him and his livestock.
I am a god of justice. When I happened upon the son of Pheres (= Admetus), a
just ruler, I saved him from premature Death by tricking the three Fates. The Fates
vowed that Admetus should escape death if another corpse could be found for the
gods of the Underworld."

	Mrs. Ravitch stopped me from reading. "There is much to say about this
first passage," she said. "The Cyclopes, for example: in the Odyssey they are
cannibalistic brutes, but Euripides refers to them as the archetypal craftsmen who
brought the arts of civilization to man. That was their original function in Greek
myth. It's our first glimpse of and earlier myth that lurks below the surface of his
sanitized text. Alcestis is like "A Place in the Sun," a straight romance-turned
tragic in which Montgomery Clift uses gestures and dress as a way of signaling
his sexuality to gay men in his audience. The original story of Apollo and
Admetus was a gay romance. If we look for signs of this in Alcestis, our efforts
will not go unrewarded. Randy, since you will be the model for Asclepius in the
painting, what do we know about him?"

	"The lightning bolt strikes him in the chest and brings sudden death,"
Randy said. "That's a challenge. I hope you don't plan to give me an electrical
jolt! Beyond that, the first panel in the triptych should represent three generations:
Pheres, his son Admetus, and Admetus's son Asclepius. They signify the
continuity of human life in a family, which was cut off by the death of Asclepius.
But what does Apollo mean when he says that he tricked the Fates? What sort of
trick did he play?"

	"Maybe it's just a way of saying that he cheated Death," Billy White
Cloud suggested.

	"Maybe it means that he struck a bargain with the Three Fates," Red
Feather said. "In that case the translation could be improved."

	"That's possible," I said. "But whatever it means, the point is that Apollo
subverted Death by dealing with his subordinates, the Three Fates, so Apollo
comes off looking like a trickster. That would explain why Death is so angry
when he first appears to Apollo."

	"Very good," Mrs. Ravitch said. "Apollo calls himself a god of justice, but
he's a trickster. That's part of his character."

	"Serves him right to get fucked by Admetus," Red Feather laughed.

	"We should notice that Euripides deviates from the earlier myth in
important ways. Our painting will portray the earlier myth, not Euripides's
version of it. First off, Euripides has Apollo say that he got revenge on Zeus by
slaying the Cyclopes, the one-eyed giants who were the archetypal craftsmen in
early Greek myth. In the original myth, Apollo didn't attack the Cyclopes. He
raised Asclepius from the dead. That's the version we'll go with in the third panel.
Not only that. Euripides changes the sheep and goats into oxen, and he suppresses
the earlier story that Zeus punished Apollo by making him serve Admetus as his
eronamos for a year. Admetus had been the god's erastes, the older man who
fucked him. Apollo protects Admetus from Death, because they had been lovers.
There are hints of this theme in the play, but Euripides never makes it explicit."

	"There's something else," I said. "Pheres is still alive. Admetus must be
fairly young."

	"I would guess that he's your age, twenty-six, Jake," Mrs. Ravitch said.
"There's a sharp contrast between youth and age: Admetus's mother and father
are elderly. In his old age, Pheres resigned the kingship to his son Admetus-their
only child. In Alcestis, the conflict between Death and Life is enhanced by the
extreme contrast of youth and old age.

      "Admetus has a son and a daughter by Alcestis," Mrs. Ravitch continued.
"Remember that in the Greek theory of the life cycle, an aristocratic male goes
through a homosexual phase first, and doesn't become hetero until he gets
married. The homosexual phase consists of two parts: when he's younger, he
plays the eromanos. When his facial hair comes in, he's eligible to be an erastes.
Apollo signifies the youth as eromanos, while Admetus signifies the erastes.
Admetus has made the transition to hetero life, but these lovers still have a close
bond, so Apollo protects Admetus, even from cosmic powers like Death
personified."

	"Shouldn't Admetus have a beard?" Billy White Cloud asked.

	"He should, strictly speaking, but we won't ask Red Feather to grow a
beard," Mrs. Ravitch said. "Let's think Admetus as deviating from the social
norm. Apollo does, too, since he's a 'god turned slave' in the story, and slaves
don't participate in eromanos-erastes relationships. That's another unusual
feature of the myth in its earlier form."

 	After this discussion, Mrs. Ravitch let me finish reading Apollo's first
speech: "Admetus appealed to all his friends, one by one, and even his old mother
who bore him, but no one was willing to die in his place, except for his wife
Alcestis. Just now her spirit is waiting to break loose. She's in the house,
drooping on Admetus's arm. This is the day when she must die. See! Here comes
Death, Lord of all the Dead. He comes to lead her to the house of Hades. He is
most punctual. How well he remembered the day she had to die!"

	"So Death comes, personified, just like in medieval morality plays," Mrs.
Ravitch says. "The theme that Euripides develops here is called 'the death of the
substitute'. The Fates had marked a king or a hero for death, usually in battle, but
a substitute is found to take his place. Sometimes in ancient times, when a
prophecy or omen foretold the death of a king, a substitute was dressed up as a
king and sacrificed in his place; hence 'the death of the substitute'. There's
another example in the Iliad, when Patroklos fights in Achilles's armor, disguised
as Achilles, until Hektor kills him in battle. In Plato's Symposium, Socrates argues
that Patroklos as Achilles's erastes because he was older, and Achilles, a prince
and the Achaeans' champion at Troy, was Patroklos's eromanos. This seems
ironic, but in fact the Patroklos-Achilles relationship, as lover and beloved,
conforms to the Greek norm in the first two phases of manhood. In the Iliad,
Homer is silent on the question of whether or not Patroklos was still Achilles's
lover at the time of the Trojan War, but Greek playwrights liked to imagine that
he was. There was even a tragedy called Achilles in Love, but alas, it's known to
us only by its title, and the title suggests that Achilles was the erastes."

	"Like Alexander the Great and Hephaestion," I said. "Hephaestion was
older, so he must have been Alexander's erastes."

	"That's right, Jake," Mrs. Ravitch agreed. "We should keep these parallels
in mind: Patroklos and Achilles; Hephaestion and Alexander; Admetus and
Apollo. In each case the weaker man dominated his more powerful partner. They
signify that man-to-man love is a force that overcomed social norms. That must
be one of the themes in our triptych."

	It was Tom's turn to read a speech by Death, who came to claim Alcestis,
and tried to lay claim to Admetus, too, but was opposed by Apollo:  "Ha! Phoebus
Apollo! You! In front of this palace! How lawless you are, disputing the rights of
the Underworld! Aren't you the one who tricked the Fates and snatched Admetus
from an early grave? Does that not suffice for you? Now, once again you have
armed your hand with a bow, to guard the daughter of Pelias (he means Alcestis),
who must die in place of her husband!"

	Mrs. Ravitch stopped the reading, to ask if we learned anything new.
"Apollo has a bow," I said. I wielded my recurve bow as a stage prop.

	Mrs. Ravitch turned to me. "As long as you've got your bow and you're
playing the part, I think you should get into your Apollo costume," she said rather
merrily.

	"That's an invitation that Jake can't refuse," Randy laughed. I got naked,
and tried to hide my genitals behind the recurve bow.

	"That's perfect!" Mrs. Ravitch exclaimed. Tom, Billy, Randy, and Red
Feather gazed at my bow in a sight-line that led to my genitals. It was a comic
moment. I asserted my dignity by explaining the difference between recurves and
composite bows, using my hands to demonstrate places where a composite bow
would be shaped differently.

      "Ahem, hmm," Mrs. Ravitch said. "In the next lines, Apollo and Death
engage in stichomythian debate. When Apollo and Tom read these lines, notice
how godlike Apollo can be, challenging the power of Death, and how
sanctimonious Death can be when anyone dares to challenge him. He's a typical
gay- basher. He bullies others, but then takes offense when anyone dares to fight
back. Apollo may be a trickster, but he's a heroic one."

	"Listen carefully to Death's words, and Apollo's responses," Mrs. Ravitch
said. "Notice that Death is contemptuous of Apollo, even though he's one of the
Olympians' most powerful gods. His contempt for Apollo is a reflex of the earlier
myth in which Apollo had been Admetus's eromanos. Death is snide. He tries to
undermine Apollo's dignity because Apollo had been Admetus's boyfriend. Put
another way, this is a thinly veiled gay-bashing scene."

      Tom and I read the lines, playing the parts of Death and Apollo:

	Apollo: Fear not! I hold for justice, and proffer just words.
	Death: If you hold for justice, why are you armed with a bow?
	Apollo: It's my custom to carry it, always.
	Death: Yes, and you use it to guard this house unjustly!
	Apollo: I grieve for my friend's sorrow.
	Death: So you would rob me of a second corpse?
	Apollo: I didn't win the other by force.

	Mrs. Ravitch stopped the reading, to ask "Who is the other?"

	"Admetus," Red Feather said.

	"Maybe so," Mrs. Ravitch agreed. "But in the earlier form of the myth, the
'other' could have been Asclepius, Apollo's son, whom Apollo raised from the
dead. Euripedes's play is like my impressionist paintings. Clear off the top layer
of brushwork and you'll find a naturalist version of the same painting. Euripides
presents a sanitized version of the myth, but its original form shows through in
provocative details."

	Tom and I continued reading the stichomythian debate of Death and
Apollo:

	Death: Why, then, is he [Admetus] on earth and not in the Underworld?
	Apollo: He gives his wife in his place-the one you've come to take.
	Death: And shall take-to the Underworld, below ground.
	Apollo: Take her and go. I don't know if I can persuade you....
	Death: Not to kill her as I must kill? That is my task.
	Apollo: No, no! Let death be delayed for those who are about to die.
	Death: I hear your words, and can guess your intent!
	Apollo: Why shouldn't Alcestis live to old age?
	Death: I have rights, too, and I value them.
	Apollo: Yet at the most, you have only won one life.
	Death: Those who die young give me a greater prize.
	Apollo: If she dies old, here burial will be richer.
	Death: That argument is biased in favor of the wealthy.
	Apollo: What! Have you grown witty without knowing it?
	Death: The wealthy would gladly pay to grow old.
	Apollo: So you will not grant me this favor?
	Death: Not me. You know my nature.
	Apollo: I do: hateful to men; to the gods, a horror.
	Death: You cannot always have more than your due.

	 "What just happened here, besides the obvious quarrel between Apollo
and Death? Mrs. Ravitch asked."

	"Apollo signifies life. He's a life-force," Billy White Cloud said.

	"Ah, Life versus Death; and why does it matter that Apollo and Admetus
are lovers?" Mrs. Ravitch asked.

	"Sex is a life-force," Billy White Cloud replied. "Admetus and Alcestis
have children, who represent the life of the family. Apollo defends Admetus and
his family as a lover would do, because gay sex is a life-force, too. Apollo is
motivated by gay sexual love. That's why he defends Admetus's family. The
deeper meaning is that gay sex is not a threat to marriage or family values."

	Everyone approved Billy's insight. Even so, Mrs. Ravitch thought that we
hadn't yet unraveled the passage completely. "Why does Death accuse Apollo of
using his bow to defend Admetus 'unjustly'? Why 'unjustly'?" she asked.

	"Because Apollo thinks of himself as a god of justice," Randy suggested.
"Death is trying to deconstruct all that is good about Apollo."

	"Because Death wants us to think that Apollo is undermining the law of
Nature by avoiding mortality," Red Feather said. "But really, Apollo is opposed
to premature death, not death in general."

	"Death would rather take young people and leave the old folks behind,
even if they're wealthy," Tom said. "That's against the law of Nature, too. Death
is like the pot that accuses the kettle for being black."

	"It's part of the gay-bashing theme," Billy White Cloud said. "Death is
implying that Apollo has a hidden agenda. He's saying, in effect, 'You're only
challenging my rights because Admetus is your boyfriend'."

	"There are no wrong answers to my questions," Mrs. Ravitch said. "All
these things are true. In the central panel of 'Apollo and Admetus', their sexual
intercourse is an affirmation of life. The forces that oppose it are Death. That's the
major theme that emerges from the historia of the painting. But let's listen closely
while Jake reads the last words of Apollo."

	I read Apollo's last lines in the play, addressed to Death: "Cruel though
you are, still you must change your way here! For a man comes to Pheres's
palace, sent by Eurystheus to fetch a horse-drawn chariot from the wintry land of
Thrace. He'll be a guest in this house, and he'll take Alcestis from you by force.
You'll get nothing from us, even though you proceed with your evil deeds-and
may my hatred go with you."

	"Apollo is famous as a god of prophecy. He's prophesying the arrival of
Herakles," Randy said.

	"Apollo hates death. If the god had his way, human beings would live
forever," Billy White Cloud said.

	"'You'll get nothing from us', Apollo's last words in the play: he shows
solidarity with Admetus, even as he exits and Herakles takes his place."

	Earlier, reading our assignment in my cabin, I had googled 'Eurystheus'
on the internet. Standing center stage naked, I seized my chance to prove that
nude hunks sometimes have brains: "The man sent by Eurystheus is Herakles.
The reference to him situates Alcestis in the Twelve Labors of Herakles. His life
is parallel to Apollo's. After Apollo had raised his son Asclepius from the dead,
Zeus punished him by making him serve Admetus as a shepherd. Zeus's wife, the
goddess Hera, made Herakles go insane. In a drunken rage he shot arrows at his
three children by Megara. To purify himself, Herakles went to the temple of
Apollo at Delphi, where an oracle prescribed his penance for slaying his children.
He had to serve as a slave of Eurysthenes, the king of Mycenaea. Herakles was
gay, like Apollo, but he and Eurysthenes didn't become lovers. Instead,
Eurysthenes sent him on Twelve Labors. He was on his way to Thrace, to capture
the chariot and four horses of Diomedes, who later became an Achaean champion
in the Trojan War. That was his ninth labor, out of twelve, so by the time when
Herakles appears in the play, he is already famous for heroic Labors."

	"So Herakles has finished eight Labors," Mrs. Ravitch said. "He's up to
the task of rescuing Alcestis, if anyone can. He's a continuation of Apollo's
character in the play." For the rest of the play-reading, I was Herakles. He arrived
in Thessaly at a bad time, when everyone was in mourning for Alcestis. Admetus
was eager to please his guest, so he didn't tell Herakles that he had come at the
moment of Alcestis's funeral.

      A Chorus of Thessalonian Elders chastised Herakles for making merry
during the observance of a royal funeral. That's how Herakles learned that his
host had just lost his wife. As soon as he learned this, Herakles vowed to rescue
Alcestis from Death, by surprising him in the cemetery: "I shall watch for Death,
the black-robed Lord of the Dead, and I know I shall find him near the tomb,
drinking the blood of the [animal] sacrifices. If I can surprise him in an ambush,
I'll grasp him in my arm. No power in the world will tear his bruised sides from
me until he has yielded up the woman. If I miss my prey in the cemetery, I will go
down to Hades and rescue her there."

      Our play-reading came to the final scene. Herakles approached Admetus
and offered her a beautiful veiled woman. Admetus refused the gift, in a
stichomythian debate that resembles the earlier one between Apollo and Death.
Red Feather read Admetus's lines, and I read Herakles's lines:

      Admetus: Yet never more will I be called a bridegroom.
      Herakles: I praise your faithful love to your wife.
      Admetus: May I die if I betray her, even when she is dead!
      Herakles: Receive here then into your noble house.
      Admetus: No, by Zeus who begot you, no!
      Herakles: Yet you will be wrong if you do not take her.
      Admetus: If I do it, remorse will tear my heart.
      Herakles: Yield. Perhaps it will be a good thing to you.
      Admetus: Ah! If only you hadn't won her in the contest.

      Mrs. Ravitch stopped the reading: "It's obvious that Admetus and
Herakles are arguing at cross-purposes. How is this possible?"

      "The veiled woman is Alcestis," I said. "She never went to the
Underworld, because Herakles ambushed Death in the cemetery and rescued her.
The veiled woman is not a new bride for Admetus; she is his wife, brought back
from the dead to be reunited with Admetus. That's how the play ends."

	"Good," said Mrs. Ravitch. "Notice the double meaning when Admetus
says 'If only you hadn't won her in the contest'. He assumes that Herakles
captured this woman from somewhere else, during one of his Twelve Labors, but
in fact he seized her from Death in the town cemetery. Now the story of Admetus,
Alcestis, and Herakles occurs later than the time of our painting, but it gives us
details that might be applied to the story of Apollo and Admetus." She waited for
our suggestions.

	"Death is dressed in a black robe," Tom said, "and he lurks in a cemetery,
drinking blood from the altar where animals were sacrificed. Somewhere in the
painting, perhaps in the third panel, Death should be portrayed as a personified
figure in a black robe, and his hands and mouth are dripping with blood."

	Mrs. Ravitch gave Tom the highest compliment possible. She took notes.
"I hadn't planned to use a personification of Death in the painting, but now I think
I must," she said. "The third panel must be a cemetery scene in which Apollo
ambushes Death and rescues Asclepius, just like Herakles rescued Alcestis in
Euripides's play." We were delighted that our play-reading efforts were
contributing something of value to the painting.

	"The last scene is also a test of Admetus's character," Billy White Cloud
observed. "Just before Alcestis died, he promised her that he would not marry
again. He promised her that their children would not have to live with a
stepmother. He thinks that Herakles is bringing him a new bride, when in fact the
veiled woman is Alcestis. By refusing the gift of a bride, Admetus proves his
loyalty to his oath, and to Alcestis."

	"If I may say so," Mrs. Ravitch said, "some critics have seen Admetus as a
flawed character because he wants someone else to die in his place. That's not the
point. Euripides uses myth to lift the story out of the realm of human morality. It's
a cosmic conflict instead, a contest between Life and Death. Apollo and
Herakles--a god and a man--signify the Life-force. Death represents himself,
personified. Alcestis is the prize. Life prevails in this contest, because of the
power of male friendships in the triangle of Apollo, Admetus, and Herakles. For
the Greeks, there is no difference between heterosexual and gay love. Both are
examples of philia, and both are affirmations of life."

      "In our painting of Apollo and Apelles," Mrs. Ravitch continued, "the
Life-forces are Apollo and Asclepius, a god and a man. Zeus is the author of
death, but Death is his agent. Asclepius is the prize, raised from the dead by
Apollo. The central panel will depict the central theme: Admetus making love to
Apollo: the power of love over Death."

	I started to retrieve my clothes. Red Feather prevented me. He bundled
jeans, shirt, and underwear in a ball and tossed them to Randy, who sat on them in
the sofa. "Isn't it about time for some alcohol?" he asked. Tom poured whisky
into six tumblers. Billy White Cloud served them on a tray. After two hours of
play-reading, pent-up desire found expression in arousal. I lay on the carpet on
my belly with a whisky-tumbler at my side. This position concealed my erection
(unless someone looked closely), and was a modeling pose that Mrs. Ravitch was
considering for the central panel of Apollo and Admetus.

      "If we're modeling the central panel, shouldn't Red Feather get naked,
too?" I asked. Red Feather was aroused. I could tell from the longing look in his
eyes and the crease in his jeans. He stripped and lay beside me. He set his whisky-
tumbler next to mine. He lay on his side and coaxed me into position in front of
him, revealing my throbbing erection which was out of control, as anyone could
see. For Tom this was first-time eye-candy. Mrs. Ravitch had seen it before, but
there was no limit to her artistic interest in male nudes. Tom's gaze focused on the
pelvis, while Mrs. Ravitch studied our facial expressions while we fondled each
other.  "It looks like we're still at work, boys," she said. "For the central panel, we
need to define a position for Apollo and Admetus.  Apollos's body is the
foundation: the rest of the scene will grow from there." She stepped out of the
room and returned with a camera. Billy White Cloud helped her set up one of her
photography lamps, which did double duty as a welcome source of warmth for
two naked guys on the floor.

      Mrs. Ravitch didn't coax us to fuck. That was our duty, as Red Feather
and I knew well enough. Mrs. Ravitch knew that we would show her some poses
soon enough, when we were ready. Randy, a former boy scout, always prepared,
handed Red Feather a lube-tube. Red Feather ran a lubricious finger up my ass,
and coated his own cock, too. With a sly smile, he tossed the tube back to Randy.
"Always happy to help," Randy said. Like Sam Black Bear he had designs on Red
Feather's ass, but Red Feather kept his cherry intact. "You can't expect to fuck
every ass that you happen upon, just because you know it's virginal," I told him
once. Besides, he had Billy White Cloud at his side, and they were in love. If I
had anything to say about it, Red Feather would start college with his ass still in
mint condition.

      Red Feather thrust his cock all the way into me in a single resolute stroke.
It was obvious to our four spectators that Red Feather had mastered my body in a
relationship that was well established. Mrs. Ravitch was already familiar with our
anatomical interactions. Her photography focused on facial expressions. That's
why it was essential for us to fuck, and not just pretend in a pose. "The face is a
man's deepest mystery," she used to say. "A man's most intimate expressions
can't be faked. That's one of the things that makes men so beautiful." Her
approach to man-to-man sex had a woman's touch that gave it a depth of
eroticism previously unknown to me. "The countenance of a man during sex is an
erogenous zone that reaches into the mind." That was another of her proverbial
expressions. For her it was an artistic principle.

      "I'll do anything for art," Red Feather said while he fucked deep and
hard . It cost me a groaning. We forgot about our male spectators, and
concentrated on Mrs. Ravitch.

      "Take it easy, Red Feather," Mrs. Ravitch said. "Save yourself for some
other positions. Her intention wasn't to relieve my pain, but to prolong it under
the agony of Red Feather.

      I lay on my back. Red Feather knelt between my legs. We fucked face to
face. "That's a passionate scene, boys, but missioning is out, Mrs. Ravitch said.
" It's got to be from the rear. We've got three or four poses to choose from. I
think Apollo should clutch his bow while he's getting fucked, and maybe
Admetus should hold one of the arrows." The symbolism that we shared as
toxophilites needed no explanation. She brought me a kitchen chair to for support
while Red Feather fucked me standing up. I clutched the bow in one hand, and
used the other to support myself on the back of the chair. Red Feather held the
thirty-inch arrow crosswise to the bow.

      "How did we get from Euripides to eromanos and erastes?" I asked
playfully while Red Feather retrofitted my anal canal as a sex organ for his
personal enjoyment.

      "Easy to say," Mrs. Ravitch replied. "This scene was always implied in
Euripides's text, for careful readers." She was right. The friendship of Apollo and
Admetus was strong because of their history as lovers. Why else would a god bare
his soul to a man? The play-reading was intellectual foreplay. Mrs. Ravitch knew
it would be. That was her main motivation, although she had technical reasons for
requiring us to study Alcestis.

      "I can keep my balance without the chair," I said. Mrs. Ravitch took it
away. In the course of nature my body assumed slightly different positions while
Red Feather fucked me.

      "This is the position shown most often in Greek vase paintings," Mrs.
Ravitch said. "It has a kind of authenticity. But I don't think it shows Apollo's
physique at his godlike best. The painting needs to emphasize that a mortal is
fucking a god." Stunning at first, it seemed charming, the bluntness with which
Mrs. Ravitch used the word 'fuck' to define our interactions.

      "If Apollo lies face-down on the ground, that could symbolize mastery," I
said. I lay down flat, extended one arm and clutched my recurve bow. Red
Feather fucked intercursally, holding his arrow crosswise to the bow.

      Mrs. Ravitch took photos, but said, "Your prostrate position isn't quite
right, Jake. We're aiming for a scene of seduction, not humiliation. More
important, prostration is a compliment to your ass, but it hides your genitals.
The genitalia of both men will be essential in the painting."

      Red Feather and I tried side-by-side positions, and mounting positions,
more than just three or four. Eventually we found a position that met her criteria.
It had to emphasize the athleticism of my torso, with my chest and a nipple visible
on the side where I held the recurve bow. It had to reveal my genitalia, but also
the curve of my ass. I had to look like a willing eronamos, not a victim of rape. At
least half of Red Feather's cock had to be visible, and his scrotum, but the
youthful curve of his ass must be prominent, too. It required a bit of athletics on
our part, even gymnastics. It wasn't a realistic position, but we were looking for
naturalism, not realism. "You ought to include a label that says 'Don't try this at
home'," I joked. We couldn't hold the position for long, but Mrs. Ravitch
memorialized it in photos. Later, we used the photos to reconstruct the position in
our modeling sessions.

      One thing we couldn't complain about: Mrs. Ravitch knew how to
organize a party! Never before had I felt such an urgent need for release from
sexual tension. Red Feather felt the same. We forgot our spectators, fully engaged
in the moment. When Red Feather missioned me, olfactory traces of orgasm
wafted the studio. "Sécrétion magnifique," Mrs. Ravitch said, "the most
mysterious of all human scents, forbidden and so enticing!" Her aesthetic
appreciation of the male body made her a welcome observer during our most
intimate moments. Oblivious to all but Red Feather, I cosseted him in a leggy
embrace. He rutted and poured himself into me. Groans and moans harmonized.
Trapped close in my leg-lock, he lay in my arms and soaked his receding cock in
magnificently silken secretion.