Date: Mon, 13 Mar 2006 13:50:38 +0100
From: A.K. <andrej@andrejkoymasky.com>
Subject: The Closured Order 01/10 (sf - fiction)

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THE CLOSURED ORDER
by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2005
written on June 18th 1994
translated by the author
English text kindly revised
by Brian

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USUAL DISCLAIMER

"THE CLOSURED ORDER" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic
scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family,
opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to
read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or
because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed
guest.

-----------------------------

CHAPTER 1 - JARVIS' DESIRES

"Abrun Galil fath meron porek jabrilag sofer buroon..." the Singers
intoned.

At once the Interpreter proclaimed, "And said Galil the Prophet, the
Enlightened, in the third day of the ninth month of the tenth year -
Look at the spikes, each one regroups a similar number of seeds and each
one waves at the wind like the others of the same field. Look at the
ripe orange, each one regroups a similar number of segments and with the
others hangs from the tree's branches. In the same way, God-fearing
people, observe and learn what the Lord God teaches us through his
creation."

Jarvis was listening carefully. He knew that at the end the Controllers
would test some of them at random, and one had to have understood and
memorized, or else he would receive twenty blows with the cane. And had
to listen to it again from the start; shamefully and under the wrath of
his family, also forced to listen to the whole passage again, together
with its guilty relative. Happily he had a very good memory.

But, while looking at the flickering, smoky flames of the torches, he
asked himself why one could not study the Prophet's words at school like
all the other subjects, comfortably sitting at a desk, with the text
before one? Instead one had to stand up each night of the seventh,
fourteenth, twenty-first and twenty- eighth day of the month, in the
wide community hall, for three hours, to listen to the songs, and
lectures, and commentaries and then one had also to be tested? All the
ten books with the Prophet's sayings were read over seventy years. Some
did not hear all of them, not even just once, as they died before they
had been finished. Is this why it was said, "The lucky man lives seventy
years and seven days"? And then, why only the Keepers and the United
could read the sacred books at will?

"It has always been so". They unfailingly answered him. For five
thousand one hundred and twenty two years. That is, since the Prophet
had been seized by his arms by God who took him with Him so that he
could welcome the faithful servants.

"Perhaps it had always been in this way," the boy reflected. "But, the
language that the Prophet spoke is no longer the same as we speak today,
therefore this at least did change, and so today we need the
Interpreters". When he noticed this, and asked an explanation of his
teacher, the man as an answer slapped him with the back of his hand.

No, Jarvis didn't like the Keepers. Not even the Singers with their
green tunics, filled with conceit, and nor the pedantic Commentators
with red tunics, and not even the Councilors with their black tunic, so
deceitful, neither at last the teachers with their gray tunics, so
boring.

On the other hand he liked those who were of the United. There was a
United Convivial House, the Convivium, at the boundary of the village.
They were of the Order of the Mystics, the ones with a yellow and black
tunic. He loved their dances full of life and joy, their striking music,
the smile with which they welcomed everybody. He liked Master Trake, who
was always so kind to him. For sometime now he was conceiving within his
heart the project to go and ask to be received into the Convivium. Also
because he didn't feel like marrying, and regardless of his desires in
two years he had to take part to the annual Festivity of the Encounter.
His parents were already starting to ask him which one of the girls he
fancied - to which, if he answered at all, he said "none".

He found them all so flat, boring, not at all interesting. "Why are the
boys so lively, full of interests, of curiosity but not the girls?" he
asked himself. But also to this he was not able to find satisfying
reply.

The only one way to avoid marriage was to enter the United. And he liked
the Mystics. On the other end of the village there was also a Convivium
of the Donated, but he never went there, even if they often came to the
village to assist ill people, to help and sustain the poor.

No, he was fascinated by Master Trake and his contagious cheerfulness.
Usually, the grown up people made weigh the difference of age with the
youths, Master Trake, even if he was twice Jarvis' age, always treated
him as a peer, with respect and attention. Yes, he had to go as soon as
possible and meet him to ask what he had to do in order to be admitted.

The ceremony ended and everybody swarmed towards the exit, where the
Keepers chose the ones to test. He was lucky; he passed them without
fate fingering him. He would have been able to answer, but he didn't
feel like being subjected to the test. Joining his family they went back
home. He helped his mother to put the younger children to bed, while his
father with the elder children went to check the herd one last time.
Then they too went to bed. He heard his sisters talking in a low voice
in the next room, then heard an unmistakable noise - his elder brother,
the engaged one, was masturbating. He knew it was forbidden; at times he
also did it.

Who knows why it was forbidden? It was pleasurable and certainly it
didn't harm anybody. "Seed exists to generate" the Prophet said, "it has
to be thrown in fertile land, it must not be wasted." Anyway one could
not use all the seed he produced to generate, could one? There were
already too many children. Counting his brothers and sisters married
already, there were fourteen children. If his father used all his seed
how many would there be? Too many, that's for sure. Therefore the seed
doesn't exist only to generate. "If it was so, God would have created us
to produce less seed, wouldn't He?" If it was so, a man would make love
with his woman just a tenth of the time in all his life. He on the
contrary knew that his father and his mother made love every night.
Except on the Night of the Listening, who knows why! If he put his ear
to the wooden wall of his parents' room, he could hear them making love,
as he now heard his brother.

The thought of his father in action, and of his brother who was
masturbating, aroused him. And finally he also started. It was a while
since he discovered that if one brushed his nipples while masturbating,
he could feel a more intense pleasure. Who knows if his brother also
knew this? Their four younger brothers did not yet do it - two of them
were not yet of age, they still hadn't undergone the Maturity Rite. But
the other two passed the rite. Possibly, like him at first, they didn't
do it in bed but in other places. He, before, did it when he went to the
river, hiding amongst the bushes....

..... He well remembered the maturity ceremony. He had been blindfolded,
and then lead into a room where he could feel the presence of many
people, certainly all the Keepers. Then hands raised his tunic and
pulled it off, untied his ritual light blue loincloth, and a gentle hand
caressed his member making it harden and stand up. Then masturbated him
until the seed come out of it. The voice of Councilor Pakak said, "He is
ripe. Look at him, Keepers." A murmur followed her words. Then he was
brought to the ritual pool, for the purification with water, then to the
round fireplace to be purified with fire, and last he was covered with a
new tunic, the loincloth hanging on his shoulder. On it was the dark,
wet stain of his seed. He was then given back to his family. It was the
memory of that hand on his member that gave him the desire to feel those
pleasurable emotions again, so he started to masturbate. At first he
almost followed the same ritual - he caressed it until it was hard, then
he seized it and slowly stroked it. But when he became hard even before
caressing it, he just masturbated. Gathering his seed in his loincloth,
to avoid leaving traces in his bed. In the open he didn't have that
problem, he just spread his seed on the grass....

There was no maturity ceremony for the girls - when they shed their
first blood, the family just held a small party, hanging a red cloth out
of the door with the name of the daughter written on it. After maturity
four years had to pass, then there was the Ceremony of the Encounter,
(that he wanted to avoid) in which the couples that would marry were
united. The couple that had married could have sex at her home, in the
'not fertile days', for two years. Then the wedding would be celebrated.
If by chance they made a mistake and a baby was conceived, birth was not
allowed. Severe laws regulated the sexual behavior of the community.
Adultery and intercourse between persons of the same gender or with
animals were all punishable by the death. Incest, by death for the
parent and five hundred cane blows any seven days for one year, for the
child, on the Community Square. Sex before the Encounter was punished
like the child in incest. Masturbation was punished with one hundred
cane blows in the Community Square, just once. But the guilty youths
had, for one year, to wear a cap with "FILTHY!" written on it. It
happened very seldom, but it happened. And everybody had to marry, or to
become a United.

The United Conviviums were almost all for men. A few were formed for
women, by sterile women or widows. There were more men than women
excluding the married ones; therefore, it was logical that there were
ten male Conviviums per one female. The Keepers were all married. But
they married only amongst themselves. It was told that Galil, the
Prophet, at the beginning of time, had twelve sons - - one was the
founder of the Keepers, one of the United, the other ten of the ten
nations. The chief of all the Keepers, that of all the Orders and the
chiefs of all the nations were still called with the honorific title
"Galilam" that meant, in the ancient language "Son of Galil". Amgalilam
was the chief of all the Keepers, Bergalilam of all the United, then the
nations' chiefs were Fie, Gon, Jem, Kur, Sar, Mon, Vis, Tos, Fre, Kun,
that is, the numbers from three to twelve. Jarvis belonged to the nation
of Jemgalilam. He never met her, but his father met her once. It seemed
she was a really strong and wise woman. She was the two hundred and
forty first Jemgalilam. It seemed she was near her seventieth year, and
she had now been in charge for thirty two years. At her death all the
family heads of each village would gather and send their representative
to the town. Here gathered, the village representatives would choose
from amongst them the representative to send to the Capital. In the
Capital all the towns' representatives would choose amongst themselves
the new Jemgalilam. It had always so. As with everything else.

But Jarvis continued to ask himself, why, if everything had been so for
ever, immutable, was the ancient language different from the current
one? How, and why did it change? It was not true, hence, that everything
is immutable. Who knows if Master Trake would answer this question, and
many others? Or would he too give him a back-hander? No, not Master
Trake, he was sure. Master Trake was different from any other man of the
village. He really had to ask for audience with the Master, and ask him
what he had to do to become a United.

"What do you ask, young man?" the Professed who opened the door asked
him.

"To have audience with Master Trake."

"Master Trake is in exercise."

"In the Great Hall? May I go to assist?"

"No, he is giving an ecstasy demonstration to the Novices in the Middle
Hall. Do you know where it is?"

"Yes, I have already been there."

"You know you have to keep silent, don't you?"

"Yes, Professed. You are new in this Convivium, are you not?"

"Yes, I come from Logvillage's Convivium. Are you from this village?"

"Yes, I know almost everybody here, I come often."

"Then go. Behave, I recommend you!"

"Yes, I'll take off my clogs and keep silent, I know that I must!"
Jarvis said merrily, at the prospect of seeing the Master soon.

He walked along the corridor to the middle door, pulled off his clogs
and put them in line with others, climbed the steps and entered the
internal corridor. Barefoot on the smooth wooden floor, he reached the
Middle Hall's door. He heard the music, the yells, the noise of the
jumps. He shifted aside the first curtain, then the second one and
silently slipped inside, standing close to the wall, then going to sit
in the shadow in a corner.

Master Trake was in the center of the room, fully illumined by the
sunrays entering from one of the windows surrounding the room. He had
spread his black mantle on the floor and, to the sound of the
instruments of invisible players, he was dizzily twirling in his yellow
tunic that, in rhythm with his movements, opened like a bellflower,
fell, waved. His face was radiant and from his half open mouth come
mysterious sounds. All around the Novices were watching him, engrossed.
Jarvis knew that the music came from the annex room, and that it
reverberated on the dome surmounting the circle of windows, yet each
time he heard it, was amazed by the seeming miracle of hearing the music
as if it emanated from the same spot where the Mystic was dancing. The
music ceased and Master Trake stopped at once.

"Well, Novices, did you understand? At the 'daum dun dun daaum dum
daaaum' you have to invert your movements. There are exactly nine beats,
in three cycles. You have to feel, inside you that it is changing. In
the beginning you can count, but gradually it has to come by itself. You
are not training to become dancers in a theatre, but to become Mystics.
The difference is all there. The dancer is a technician who is able to
perfectly coordinate his movements. To him, each movement corresponds to
one or more beats. But not for a Mystic - during those nine beats the
change happens. With which beat I don't know but it's not important.
Today it can come at the fifth, tomorrow at the seventh or at the
fourth... The change has to be born inside you of itself, and emerge. In
day twenty three of the thirteenth month of the year five Galil says,
'You know it is about to rain, but you can't say when the first drop
will fall. But rather, here, it falls.' It is exactly so, do you
understand? Now, Novice Renne, it's your turn. Don't worry about doing
it right or wrong. Dance to reach illumination and to bring it to the
world. Nothing else matters. Our great Enlightened Sharet, who died in
3647, was ugly and misshapen, and also awkward. And yet he brought
Galil's light in his epoch thanks to his dance. And those who saw him
dancing saw in him supreme beauty and grace, and saw the work of God."
Trake left his mantle on the floor and gave its space to the Novice
Renne. He clapped his hands. The music rose, lightly.

Jarvis watched in fascination. Renne seemed skilled to him, even though
surely less than Master Trake. And yet, studying the expression on the
Masters face, he saw that he was not happy.

In fact, when the music ceased, he said, "Still too technical. Where was
your heart, Renne? If you don't free your heart from worry, you will
never enter the Mystical World. And look at the mantle, it is crumpled
like the sea under a storm! When your heart will be light, the mantle
also will remain smooth." Jarvis never realized that this was the reason
for the mantle on the floor, and was astounded. Certainly, dancing in
such a dizzying way on a mantle without making it crumple in the least,
had to be something prodigious. How many years of study could such a
skill demand?

When the exercises were over, the sun had just moved between two of the
windows. Master Trake took up his mantle and, while the Novices left
after thanking him, approached Jarvis.

"Welcome, my friend! Did you come to assist in the dances?"

"Master, I came to talk with you, if you are able to spare the time."

"Certainly, my friend, for you I will always find the time. Come, let's
go to the peach garden."

There, Jarvis broached the subject he had in his heart.

"Master, how do I become a United in the Order of Mystics?"

"I was waiting for such a request from you. I felt it was awakening
inside you. You have to apply to the Elder of the Convivium. But do you
know that one is admitted only when sixteen or more? Aren't you
fifteen?"

"Yes."

"And why do you want to become a United?"

"I don't want to marry! In two years I shall have to choose my spouse. I
don't want to, and there is no other way. Besides that, I like the
Mystics. I would like to become like you, Master Trake. Just your
presence relieves a persons heart."

"The study of mysticism is a demanding discipline. Dance is just its
external aspect, its visible result. A Mystic studies and dances from
sunrise to sunset. And often also in the night, on special occasions.
Life in a Convivium has strict rules to whom one has to subject oneself.
Do you feel you could live such a life?"

"I think so, Master. May I apply to the Elder?"

"Why don't you ask first to spend a month here in the Convivium, with
us? For instance, in the next exercises for laymen. Several men and
women come from your village."

"In the ninth month?"

"Yes, there is less work in the fields, and each family can release one
or two of its members. Your father and mother shall not deny their
authorization."

"Yes. I would like that. Thank you, Master Trake, you are always so kind
to me."

"Here eat these on your way back. And come back to see me soon." The man
said pulling from his sleeve a small bundle of leaaves and handing it to
the boy - they were very tasty sweets that he often gave him.

Jarvis took it and raised it to his forehead in the gesture of thanks
and, after a deep salutation bow; he ran away lightly, feeling happy. On
his way back he discarded the leaves and savored the sweets. Who knows
how the United were able to make such good sweets? Nobody in the village
was so skilled, not even his mother who was very good at food
preparation.

While he was returning to the village, he felt the desire to pass by the
river to hide in the thick bushes and give himself some pleasure. The
urge came so suddenly, he didn't even know why.

At times his member became hard and strained in his loincloth and if he
didn't have the chance to relieve himself quickly, he felt an ache in
his testicles for a while.

He changed his direction and cut trough a small wood until he was in
sight of the river. He went towards "his" place. From there he could see
in time if somebody was approaching, without them seeing him, so he had
the time to tie his loincloth again without any problems. Reaching the
spot, he looked around - not a living soul. He raised his tunic hitching
it under his chin, untied his loincloth and took his already hard member
in his hand. He started to slowly masturbate himself, closing his eyes
and enjoying the sensation that he was giving himself. With his other
hand he lightly and pleasurably teased his nipples. He was slowly
nearing the point of no return, when a rustle caught his attention; he
became still, opened his eyes and carefully looked around. There was
nobody, nothing was moving. "It had to be some animal," he thought and
started to masturbate again.

A new noise, but from the opposite side, put him on alert again. He
carefully looked around but again was unable to see anything unusual. He
shrugged his shoulders and resumed his pleasurable pastime. But suddenly
he heard noises again, now he saw two stooped figures walking amongst
the bushes, converging the one toward the other. He was about to gird
his loincloth again, but something made him stop and look again. They
were not coming towards him, it seemed they were going toward a cave,
and they were walking with stealth.

He recognized them, one was a boy from his village, Frest, who
celebrated the Ceremony of the Encounter that year; the other, it was
evident from the colors of his clothes, was one of the young novices
from the Mystics' Convivium, but he could not recognize him. Jarvis
thought all this was odd - what were they doing there, sneaking about
that way, with a clear intention of meeting at the cave? Possibly
they... Yes, perhaps these two... The thought excited him and he felt a
strong desire to see, to spy on them. If they entered the cave he could
not see them. But he would never enter there to do those things -
whoever arrived there could see who was inside and what they did, and
those inside could for sure not escape or hide or, above all, if the
intruder came from the back, they would not even know he was there. No,
they were going to the cave, but surely that was only their meeting
point. Where could they go, later? Jarvis knew very well the place and
possibly Frest also. The only safe place was exactly where he was. They
would almost surely climb up here. If he wanted to watch them, he had to
hide, but where? He well knew that there were no hideouts around there,
that's why he chose this place. Unless he... He hurriedly tore away
several branches from the bushes, crouched in the thickest and most
tangled undergrowth and created a screen in front of himself with the
branches he'd torn off, well placed so that they seemed natural. Then he
waited in silence, sitting with his legs widespread and massaging his
member so as not to lose his erection. Time passed and nothing happened.
He thought he had been wrong, so he started to masturbate again - it was
better to cum and return to the village. But suddenly the rustle came
nearer and in a short while he saw them reaching the place where he was
earlier. He also recognized the novice, it was Kempi.

"Here we are safe." Frest said in a whisper.

"Are you sure?"

"I often come here to beat off. Come." The boy said pulling the Novice
against himself and raising his tunic. Jarvis saw Frest untying the
other's loincloth and crouching in front of him, then saw that he was
taking the Novice's member in his hand, bringing his face close, and saw
that Frest was starting to lick it, to the obvious pleasure of Kempi.

The Novice murmured, "Ooh, you are skilled, really skilled!"

"I told you, didn't I?" the boy murmured and started again to lick.
Jarvis, his eyes wide, stopped to masturbating, but was terribly aroused
by the scene. Frest now let the full length of the Novices rod slip
inside his mouth and started to rock his head back and forth.

"Ooh, that's great! You are really skilled, who taught you? You are a
master. Oh, suck it... suck it, go on... make me cum!"

Frest stopped for a moment and, looking him up and down, said, "But if I
let you cum inside my mouth as you like, then you will let me shove it
all up your ass, won't you?"

"I promised, didn't I? Go on, suck, make me cum." The Novice said with
urgency, putting his hands on the boy's head and pulling it to his erect
member.

Frest plunged onto the hard rod again and started to suck it with a
will. Jarvis never saw a couple making love, and was fascinated and more
and more aroused. He started to slowly masturbate again, without losing
sight of everything the two were doing. He then saw the Novice starting
to tremble as if he had the fever, tilting his head backwards and he
realised that Kempi was emptying his seed inside his companion's mouth.
Frest was swallowing it all, almost greedily! Then he saw Kempi relaxing
and knew that the orgasm was over.

Frest stood up and cleaned his lips with the back of his hand, "Turn
around, Kempi, go on," he said, "Now it's my turn."

The Novice turned, pulling up his tunic and, uncovering his butt, bent
forward placing his hands on his knees. Frest spit on his fingers and
passed them between Kempi's buttocks. Then raised his tunic, pulled off
his loincloth and with it fixed his tunic so that it would not
interfere. Jarvis saw his mate's member - it was thicker and longer than
that of the Novice, and it was beautiful, smooth, perfect, slightly
bending upwards like the horn of a rhinoceros. And under it hung the
beautiful sack of his testicles.

Then Frest parted Kempi's buttocks with both hands, aimed between them
with his powerful pole and gave a hard thrust with his loins, slipping
completely inside him. "Hey, how many did you take before mine? he
asked, "I entered you as smoothly as an arrow into water!"

"Fuck me, go on!"

"Yes, sure. You have a wonderful ass!" the boy said, starting to hammer
inside him with determination.

Jarvis felt he was near exploding in an orgasm stronger than he ever
experienced before. Thus, with some difficulty, he stopped masturbating
- he was afraid to lose control and be discovered. It was not that he
had much to fear from these two, they could not report him for sure.
Frest was busying himself with evident pleasure. The expression on
Kempi's face was clearly one of enjoyment also. Jarvis asked himself
which of them was enjoying that union more. The Novice started to
masturbate himself rapidly and was moaning with pleasure. After a while
they both came, moaning, until they both completely unloaded. Then
parted.

Kempi picked up some tender leaves and gently cleaned the still erect
pole of the other who, looking at him, asked, "Tell me, Kempi, how many
cocks did you take, before mine?"

"Just one, that of my Professed - it is thicker than yours but shorter.
But yours... I like it more. Will you take me again?"

"Sure I will! But does he fuck you often?"

"Every day, after I was admitted."

"And where do you do it?"

"He is in charge of cleaning the oven, and every morning I help him,
so..."

"Don't tell me that you do it in the oven!"

"Yes. We go in there wearing just our loincloths, and from the oven
mouth it is not possible to see the part towards the chimney, so we are
safe."

"And does he give you head?"

"No, not he."

"Who then?"

"The Novice who sleeps between me and the wall, in the darkness at
night."

"But what if you are caught?"

"It is not possible. Only the Acolyte on watch has a lamp, and the door
is on the opposite side of our bed. We would see in time if he came. But
you, who taught you to give head so well?"

"An Acolyte of the Donated Convivium. He came to care for my father when
he was seriously ill. He spent hours sitting near his bed. He didn't
wear a loincloth. I slipped under the bed and from there under his
tunic, between his legs, and I give him head until he came."

"But didn't your family or your father notice it?"

"My father was unconscious. And at home there was no one, they were all
in the fields working. I had to go back home every day to warm the food
for lunch, to fill the water pitcher, and to take it all to the others
in the fields. Once he told me he wanted to teach me an amusing secret
game. I was thirteen, and had a great desire to play. But I had to
prepare everything without wasting any time. Then he said me, 'If you
swear to me you will keep a secret about what I do with you, I will help
you do all that is necessary, so we have time.' So he taught me to give
him head. I liked it a lot, he had a wonderful cock and his seed was
really tasty. So, we continued, every day. We did it in that funny
position to be safe - even if someone entered; I had the time to slip
away from his part of the bed without being seen. My father healed after
two years so he didn't come any more.

"But I had a strong desire to do it again. So one night I went to the
bed of my elder brother and did it with him. I feared his reaction a
little, but thought that in the dark he wouldn't know it was I - we were
six brothers who slept in the same room. He let me do it without
uttering a word. So I went to him the following night also. But after a
while giving him head, he stopped me. Without talking, he pulled me up,
I thought he wanted to beat me, or do who knows what bad thing to me,
but on the contrary he made me turn, rummaged in my small ass and
started to play in my little hole with his fingers wet with spit. I let
him. He started to masturbate and I followed suit. For two or three
nights, that's all that happened.

"Then one night, after letting me suck his tool for a while, and then
pulling me up and playing in my ass with his fingers, he pushed all his
rod inside my hole. As I was whimpering, he shut my mouth with his hand
while he was fucking me, and with the other hand masturbated me. I liked
it, even if it was somewhat painful. Night after night this went on, I
got used to it and liked it more and more.

"Then he married and again I didn't know with whom do it. Try it with
another of my brothers? I liked one of my brothers, the one who was one
year younger than me, and thought I could possibly also manage to put
mine in his small, nice ass. I too wanted to try that. Therefore I went
to his bed and made him feel my hard cock, but scared, he started to
scream, 'There is somebody in my bed, there is somebody in my bed!' I
just had time to go back to my bed and to ask aloud, 'What's up, who is
it?' and already my parents were coming with the lamp. We all were up
checking who could have entered. 'He touched me, I swear!' my brother
was screaming, but dad and mum, luckily for me, were telling him that he
just had a bad dream, the door was still shut and all seemed in order. I
was terribly scared. But the yen was still strong.

"Until one day, we were playing hide and seek, I was hiding with Sakor,
squeezed between two rocks and a tree, my friend was against me. His
small ass pressed, unwillingly, exactly here, on my cock. I could feel
its warmth and got a rigid hard-on. He felt it and said in a whisper,
'You have a big thing, between your legs...' I said, 'Yes, big and hot.'
He brushes his ass on it and says, 'Will you let me look at it?' and I,
'If you let me put it inside your nice ass,' and he, 'If I say yes, what
will you do for me?' and I, "I'll suck yours.' In short, it started
quite like between you and me."

Jarvis listened carefully. Only when the two had tidied themselves and
left could he relax in his hideout. He was somewhat dazed - so many new
things all at once, so many emotions. But how? It was forbidden and it
seemed that there were many doing it! Somewhat like masturbating. Many
more, anyway, than those who were caught. And even amongst the United.
Then Frest, Sekor. He too would eventually try it with them, couldn't
he? The idea excited him, and finally he came. Then scrambled out,
tidied himself and went quickly towards his village. He was thinking,
"Why not try with my elder brother who masturbates almost every night?"
he could slip into his bed, in the dark, and touch him while he was
masturbating, ready to rapidly go back to his bed if he reacted badly...
Jarvis was again aroused. Until then he had never had sexual fantasies,
but now they were running wild and he felt full of desire to try it with
somebody, with anybody.

In the village he came across Sekor. "Hi Sekor! How are you?" he
cheerfully greeted him.

The boy looked at him somewhat taken aback - between them there had
never been a real friendship. Sure, at the village they all knew each
other, but they never fraternized.

"Not badly, Jarvis..." the other answered hesitantly.

"Are you going to the fields?"

"No, today I have to work in the stable."

"Oh. I have a rest day. Can I come and give you a hand?"

"Why?" Sekor was suspicious.

"Well... er... so... I have nothing to do..."

"My brothers already help me."

"Oh, you aren't alone at work in the stable?"

"Surely not. You know that we have a big herd, don't you?"

"Well, bye, then." Jarvis said shrugging his shoulders and left thinking
he would have another chance.

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CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 2

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In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to
read them, the URL is
http://andrejkoymasky.com
If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English
translations, so that I can put on-line more of my  stories in English
please e-mail at
andrej@andrejkoymasky.com

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