Date: Mon, 25 Sep 2006 02:04:43 -0400
From: carl_mason@comcast.net
Subject: YOUNG JEREMY TAYLOR - 9

YOUNG JEREMY TAYLOR - 9

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 9

(Revisiting Chapter 8)

As they waited in the Academy airbus, an Alliance battle cruiser slowly
settled down on the tarmac.  Unexpectedly, the Captain ordered the students
to come aboard immediately with as much of their gear as possible.  As they
took off, they could see two other battle cruisers and one carrier (a craft
that carried fighters, equivalent to an ancient aircraft carrier) in the
distance, all heading out from Estashi.  Within the hour, they also saw
great bursts of light and felt the rumble of explosions through the thick
walls and insulation of the battle cruiser.

On the way home, the Captain informed them that "rogue planets" had broken
the peace and planned to destroy the Academy's airbus and everyone on her.
The ships involved were either destroyed or sent scrambling.  The men on
all but one of the Alliance ships had been rooting for them in that which
the Captain said was the greatest Muhrtog match of all time.  They had been
happy to lend a hand!

(Concluding Our Story - All Things Must End)

Sitting in front of his open locker in the Sports Complex, Jeremy's
thoughts wandered back to that day, earlier in his last year, when the team
returned home on one of the Alliance's battle cruisers.  The terminal and
the area surrounding had been jammed with thousands of cheering Precopians
who also lined the streets that their land vehicle had taken on its way
back to the Academy.  Once on the Academy grounds, the crowds became their
own buddies in the Corps, the Superintendent and the other officers, and
the great band that lent so much color to Academy events.  But all things
come to an end.  For instance, here he was sitting naked on a bench in the
locker room after the last marching practice.  The other boys had showered,
dressed, and departed, but he was still there, sitting, wrapped in his own
thoughts.  Suddenly, someone came up from in back of him and clamped his
hands down over his thick shoulder muscles.  "You gotta take a shower,
bro," Kazan said quietly.  "You, too," the blond retorted.  "What's your
excuse?"  "Just talkin' with Sergeant Czenus," Kazan responded.  "He's
already headed back to the dorm.  Come on...up!" he commanded, putting his
hands under his roommate's armpits and lifting.  Side-by-side, two
beautifully built young men headed for the showers, pausing every now and
then to goose the other or otherwise drive him mad as only the best of
buddies can.

"We should always take showers like this," Jeremy said dreamily as Kazan's
fingers spread the soapsuds over his broad back and dug deep into his
muscles.  "Yeah," he murmured as his buddy's target shifted to his classic
ass cheeks.  "Oh, yeah!" Jeremy cried out, as he felt himself go hard
erect.  "You ok with this out in the open?" Kazan asked, a small note of
doubt in his voice.  "Nah," the blond answered.  "It's against the laws of
the gods and man!"  Evidently having heard all he needed to hear, Kazan
dropped to a knee in front of Jeremy and literally inhaled the heavy rod.
For a few minutes, nothing more was heard other than the sounds of happy
intimacy.  All too soon, of course, the blond grunted and rose up on his
toes.  As his body stiffened, he groaned and blasted a huge load deep into
his buddy's throat.  A few minutes later, he was in glory as Kazan accepted
his freely offered gift and began pounding into his firm, muscular butt.
Steadying himself against the shower wall, he fully enjoyed taking
everything that his roommate could offer.  After Kazan had also abruptly
inhaled, stiffened, and poured himself into his best friend, the two boys
stood there, their arms around each other, allowing the hot water to carry
their fatigue away.  "Oh, yeah," Jeremy softly moaned as he nuzzled the
crook of his lover's neck.  "Kazan...Kazan."

In full dress uniform and carrying the short spears that bound them to the
Academy's past, the Corps of Cadets marched into the packed stadium.  Wave
on wave of proud young men, marching in perfect harmony and in the
distinctive gait of the Precopian armed forces, halted before the stand
that had been erected at one end of the field.  The next two hours saw the
culmination of their basic academic preparation and their commissioning as
Jensii or, if you will, Second Lieutenants in the Armed Forces of the
Alliance.  (Jeremy who would take his oath of citizenship the next night
received a "delayed commission.")  It's doubtful than any of the young men
would ever forget standing hatless, their hair ruffled by the soft breezes
that rise at twilight on Precopius, and singing the Alma Mater.

(Scars Born of the Past)

Will our past - as individuals, as citizens, as a species - always hang
around our necks like heavy chains or can we look forward to being freed
from the past, absolved for the past, and judged solely on what we do
rather than what we are - or, worse, what we have been?  To what degree are
the answers to this latter question true for the gay man as well as the
straight?  These and other questions would occur to Jeremy before the night
was out.

The young Jeremy Taylor was determined not to miss the Cadet formal that
always occurred on the night of graduation.  Yes, he would much rather have
asked Kazan, but that wasn't possible in this world.  Consequently, after
discussing the matter with his beloved, he asked Sejennah.  Out of the
goodness of her heart, knowing him well - perhaps still wanting him despite
that knowledge - she accepted.

He could have worn his Cadet uniform even though it would have been
improper for him to wear the distinctive uniform of the Jensii, as many
graduates did.  Rather he chose to wear a handsome royal blue rehnax to
complement Sejennah's gold and white gown.  The brand new rehnax was a
magnificent piece of clothing.  The metal had been fabricated into fibers
so fine that they were barely discernible by the naked eye.  When woven
into a cloth by master craftsmen, dressing in a garment made from the
fabric was similar to dressing in a thin film of moisture, a film that
conformed perfectly to every feature of one's body.  In fact, other than
for its luminosity - and the sense of sophistication and luxury afforded
the person lucky enough to own it - the one-piece garment could have been
spray painted on the naked body of the wearer.  Clearly, it was not for
everyone.  If, however, the person who wore it had a body good enough, the
effect could be powerful...and devastating erotic.

The early evening went well.  The hall was beautifully decorated.  There
were many friends to greet and memories of past pleasures to recall.
Sejennah was having a good time.  She was woman enough fully to enjoy her
handsome escort and not above enjoying the consternation and envy of other
women in attendance.  The trouble brewed slowly over the course of the
evening as too much alcohol gradually got to several young men who should
never have touched a drop.  One man nearly tripped Sejennah when he
stumbled against her on the dance floor.  He immediately offered his
apologies, first to Sejennah and then to Jeremy, before extending his hand.
It seemed that the incident was closed.  Twenty minutes later, however,
Jeremy felt a hand on his ass.  Turning quickly, the blond stared into a
leering face only a few inches from his own.  "I thought only fancy women
dressed that way," he said loudly as he began to dance away.  Jeremy placed
a hand on his shoulder and got a curse and an elbow in the ribs for his
trouble.  "No more," Jeremy warned him in a grim voice.  "No more."  Less
than an hour later, another rough reached over and placed his hand on the
blond star's substantial basket.  Jeremy decked him.  As the man pulled out
a knife, friends grabbed the two of them and held them apart.  "He said
something obscene to me," the man whined, wiping the blood from his
dripping nose.  "I think this guy's a queer!  We don't need his kind
anywhere on this planet!"  Lieutenant Arius, who had been standing nearby,
stepped up and suggested to Jeremy that he and his date would do best to
leave.


After putting Sejennah into a taxi, the tall blond Cadet turned back
towards the hall.  Walking through the last group of trees and brush, he
was jumped by four or five low lives.  When two friends and their dates
found him less than a half hour later, he had been stripped and was hanging
upside down from the heavy branch of one of the trees in the garden.  He
did not appear to be harmed, although he was confused and his nose was
dripping blood.  Needless to say, at this point the police were called.
Within 20 minutes they had decided that Jeremy was completely blameless.
As a matter of fact, they captured two of the roughs, drunk as skunks, who
had stayed behind "to see the fun."  The other three were picked up within
the hour.  The blond athlete was checked out at the hospital and then
released to Kazan and his father.

By noon of the next day, Lieutenant Arius had spoken with the
Superintendent, suggesting that the Academy was now paying the penalty "for
failing to bring the Cadets' sexual energies under control."  Reading from
a police report on his desk, the Superintendent asked the instructor why he
had suggested that Jeremy and his date leave the dance.  Within a very few
minutes, Arius was under formal notice that one more report of such
behavior would see him looking for a new position.

The five roughs never came to trial, although 1) the two who were Cadets
knew that they would never again be welcome at the Academy, and 2) the
Armed Forces and prospective employers were notified of the assault in
general terms.  The fact remains that few schools are willing to deal with
charges of homosexuality, however unsubstantiated.  Hence, the suspicion
always lingers that there was something to the complaints.  Even fewer
schools, it might be added, are willing to suggest publicly that
homosexuality isn't even part of the problem!

(Into the Mists of Time)

After checking to see that Sejennah had returned home safe and sound, a
very sore and disturbed Jeremy Taylor went to his room, stripped, and threw
himself down on top of the covers.  Moments later, he heard someone open
the door, enter the room, and sit down on the bed beside him.  As he felt
the other person begin skillfully to massage his back, Jeremy mumbled,
"Thanks, Kazan.  That feels so good.  What a shitty ending to what could
have been a beautiful evening."  "Not Kazan..." the person mumbled.  "I was
hoping you'd realize that others in this house love you as much as he
does."  Lifting up, Jeremy saw that it was Kazan's father.

"I know that's true, sir.  It's just that I feel that all my dreams have
been crushed.  I had hoped after becoming a citizen tomorrow night that I
could ask you to adopt me into the family.  Now I guess you won't even want
me to be around the house."  Putting his hand around the back of the
blond's thick neck, the Imperial Counsel said, somewhat bitterly, "Why in
the name of the gods wouldn't I want you around the house, Jeremy?  Why
would I hesitate if you honored me by asking me to adopt you?  Don't you
know yet that I love you the same way that I love Kazan?  Don't you know
how very proud I am of you?" he asked.  Suddenly exhaling, the boy
partially controlled a sob and blurted out, "Tonight, sir, an entire hall
heard me referred to as a 'queer' and I was knocked out, stripped, and left
for others to find.  That's something I'll never live down...in this
culture or in many others."  "Hear me, my son: I couldn't care less whether
you are straight or crooked...or what OTHERS have done.  The elements of
character in which I am interested lie a lot deeper than that, and I'm
already convinced that you are one of the most honorable...and the most
lovable...human beings I've ever known.  Stop this nonsense and come here!"
Now crying softly like a little boy, the youth slowly turned over and
inched towards his father until some of his torso was lying in his lap
while the rest of his muscular body rested on the bed.  The man kissed his
blond hair and uttered a short prayer of thanksgiving and supplication.
"That's better," he growled.  "Now I want you to take this pill to help you
sleep.  You have a busy day tomorrow, yes?"  "Ok, dad," Jeremy said, wiping
his eyes with one big hand and tightly gripping his father's arm with the
other.

Just as the sun was coming up the next morning, Jeremy and Kazan were
awakened.  Without breaking their fast or speaking, they showered and
donned simple ochre- colored robes. In the company of their father, they
were then taken downtown to the Ministry of Citizenship's heliport.  After
he had hugged and kissed them, he returned home.  They were taken by land
to the oldest temple on the planet, a carefully preserved complex of
buildings on the cliffs high above Precopius City.

As the sun was just vanquishing the last of the early morning mist, a
priest with shaven head met their bus and directed the group of ten young
men towards the largest of the structures.  Rams' horns sounded from every
side.  Guided down hallways of dark stone that were lighted only by
occasional flaring torches, they finally reached a simple room in the
depths of the temple.  Though the room was large and strangely impressive,
it contained no furniture other than stone benches along the sides and a
freestanding stone altar in the very middle.  Their guide collected their
robes and silently departed.  With a hiss as it slid along the floor, a
portal opened and a naked priest quietly entered the room.  There was not a
hair on his highly oiled, superbly muscled body.

Raising his hand in an unfamiliar gesture, the tall figure greeted them and
reminded them of why they were there.  At the close of the day, he intoned,
they would stand naked before the Emperor and Precopian Society and assume
the full rights and responsibilities of Precopian citizenship.  They would
find, however, that they faced a full day of preparation.  The candidates
would first be shorn and ceremonially washed.

As a strange chanting filled the room, the candidates were led, one by one,
to the stone altar.  There the priest removed every hair on their bodies
below the eyes with a wicked looking, incredibly sharp knife.  This was
followed by being rubbed down with an odorless liquid that removed the last
traces of hair.  That task completed, the candidate was led into an
adjoining chamber where baths filled with heated, fragrant water were cut
into the stone floor.  As one slave played and sang strange and unfamiliar
songs on a U-shaped, stringed instrument, others - male and female - washed
the candidates' skin and hair with herb-scented soaps.  Jeremy labored to
remember where he had seen pictures of this ceremony, for it struck chords
in his deepest memories.  At that point, however, he had all he could do to
relax as a young slave was using both of her tiny hands to gently wash his
long scrotum and heavy cock.  The mass of light-colored flesh quivered in
the faint light of the bath.  A slave boy then took the head of his long
piece into his mouth, but simply tongued it and roused it to life.  As the
first stage of preparation was completed with the oiling of their bodies,
the ten young candidates were led back into the main chamber.

Their proud bodies gleamed in the flaring light of the torches.  By the
time the priest appeared, most - including the beautiful young blond - were
fully erect.  "You will now present an offering to the god Anubis," the
priest intoned.  Suddenly, Jeremy remembered where he had seen a picture of
these ceremonies.  He remembered how hard he had become as a very young boy
when he had come across it in a book about ancient Egypt!  And now...
"You!" the priest intoned, and a slave led him forward to the altar.
"Select one of your fellows."  When he pointed to Kazan, his brother was
led forward.  As he knelt on the altar, Kazan was directed to stroke him
until his seed splashed down onto the stone.  Led away to chanting, he
could just hear the priest telling Kazan, "Select one of your fellows."

When Jeremy came to, he was lying on the stone floor of another small room.
The walls had to be extremely thick, for he heard absolutely nothing.  He
did remember the strange smelling smoke of the torch as he returned to a
drugged sleep.  Over some time - he knew not how long - he remembered
awakening again for a few seconds or minutes.  Once he found his body being
anointed.  On another occasion, he found himself thrusting vigorously into
the warm, smooth ass of another person.  On a third, he was crying out in
pain as he felt himself nearly split in two by a massive protrusion that
had invaded his body.

When he next awakened, he was lying on a comfortable couch.  He felt at
peace although he was clearly exhausted.  A young priest sat at his side.
When he saw that the candidate was conscious, he began reading from a great
book.  Over the next two hours, the priest read to him of the history and
religion of the ancient Precopians, of their meeting with early Earthmen
who lived in cities and built great temples in the sand.  He heard of the
priest who had accompanied the explorers back to Precopius and guided the
building of this temple.  He was given a glimpse of his later life...its
challenges and its promise...and he was sworn to secrecy for the rest of
his natural life.  As the priest rose, he brushed the sweat off the
forehead of the young Earthman, saying, "You have had much to bear, and the
future will not be without pain.  You will, however, take part in guiding
our people to glory under the banner of the Wolf.  In the fullness of time,
Kazan will become Emperor Axelmodius VI and you will stand at his side."
With that the blond youth returned to a deep sleep.

Later that evening in the great throne room, he stood naked before the
Emperor who wore the jackal-mask of the god Anubis and the leaders of
Precopian Society who looked down on him from the balconies.  As Isandrious
IX came down the steps from his throne, a hymn arose from the throats of
those assembled.  The Emperor gathered him into his arms and welcomed him
as a true son of Precopius.

                             THE END