Date: Mon, 4 Sep 2006 01:18:49 -0400
From: carl_mason@comcast.net
Subject: YOUNG JEREMY TAYLOR - 3

YOUNG JEREMY TAYLOR - 3

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 3

(Revisiting Chapter 2)

As the two young men walked up the broad staircase, Kazan chuckled in a low
voice, saying, "Oh, yeah, Jeremy.  Now you've met Sejennah.  She means
nothing bad by it, but she's never changed.  Did you have fun?"  "Hell,
man," the Earthboy yelped, "I'm about ready to jump out of my fuckin'
skin!"  "Ah-ha!" Kazan muttered.  "She's still a prick tease.  Come with
me, Lothario."  Just before he reached one of the doors on the hallway, he
stopped.  "The two serving girls are tied up until it's time to go, Big
Guy, but the boy is still free.  He's cute and he's helped me out before.
I know that it's not the same, but any port in a storm, eh?  Beats blue
balls any day!"  "Yeah, Kazan, thanks!"  the blond snorted, moved past
Kazan to abruptly push the door open, and entered like the Marlboro Man.

(Continuing Our Story - Of Reason & Emotion)

"How about it, Mr. Taylor?" Lieutenant Arius insisted.  "How do you react
to Mr.  Dendarius's argument?  Won't the rotten apple inevitably infect the
whole barrel of apples if it isn't quickly and vigorously removed?"  (We
rejoin the Interplanetary Sociology course that on the following Monday is
still struggling with the question of "homosexuality.")

"I'm not sure what the word 'vigorously' adds to the argument, sir, other
than, perhaps, to whip up the emotions," the cadet from Earth said
tentatively.  "I'm going to grant you that 'debating' point," the
Lieutenant said sharply.  "Now, if you will please react to the thrust of
the argument."  Jeremy looked down at his desk for a moment, then raised
his chin and stared straight into the instructor's eyes.  "Mr. Dendarius
assumes that homosexuality is something akin to an infection, i.e., rot,
that will attack an otherwise healthy body, i.e., the apple, and cause it
harm.  He offers no proof; indeed, he accepts the assumption as a 'given'.
Reason tells us, sir, that is an error, an error sufficient to reject his
argument."  Rustling throughout the classroom, coupled with a few murmurs
of agreement, met the lad's comments.

Lieutenant Arius drew back, his chin fixed, his eyes cold and threatening.
"Mr. Taylor, you are on thin ice, morally and legally.  As a loyal
Precopian, let alone an officer of the Academy, I am forced to ask you if
you personally support the presence of homosexuals in our society."
"Sir..." Jeremy began, but then hesitated as several students stood and
snapped to attention.  Everyone recognized a traditional and, normally, a
not-to-be-questioned demand to be heard.  Suddenly, a double chime sounded.
Wearily, the Lieutenant waved his hand towards the door as if to sweep them
out of it. "Get out of here, all of you," he growled.

As the students crowded out of the classroom, several quietly extended
their hands to Jeremy and shook his hand.

(On the Banks of the Old Raritan)

Kazan and Forinth, fellow members of the Academy's Muhrtog team, stood next
to Jeremy in the locker room as they prepared for the important match
against Estashi.  "Arius made a mistake," Kazan exclaimed.  "It's unethical
for an instructor to demand an answer from a cadet on a personal question
in the midst of discussion about an idea, but now he can't do much about
it.  Since students supported you, as honor demanded, his reputation is on
the line.  My bet is that he'll have to go higher with this one, and, given
the topic, Jeremy, that just can't help you."

"Well, we can't do much about it now either," Jeremy mumbled as he removed
his T- shirt and used it to wipe his chest before throwing it in the
locker.  "I still haven't gotten used to your custom of nudity in sports,"
he sighed.  "You will," laughed Kazan.  "It's all part of our belief that
there are two times when one must be 'naked before man and the gods': in
sport and at that moment when you are formally presented to the Emperor and
the People of Precopius.  The latter, of course, marks one's full
acceptance as an adult citizen.  At the Academy we add a third time, more
for discipline and developing a sense of brotherhood than anything else,
i.e., during marching drills."  The three youths laughed, stowed the rest
of their clothes in their lockers, and wandered over to the trainers'
tables where the team members were being rubbed down with oil that enhanced
their physiques...and kept the insects off them!

Finishing up before the others - and not seeing the coach - Jeremy wandered
over to a few small horizontal windows set high on one wall of the
partially underground locker facilities.  You had to stand on a bench, but
you could see most of the field and a portion of the stadium where
thousands of people were gathering for the match.  He had never tired of
the sight.  As he watched, the full Academy band marched onto the field,
playing the song that so reminded him of an old Rutgers University song
that he had heard as an earlier teen.  The band preceded the Corps of
Cadets, matching in perfect formation, singing the school song, and
sporting the jaunty scarlet berets that they wore on game days.  "Scarlet?"
Jeremy thought.  "That was Rutgers, too!  Seems that more than one Earthman
has been around here!"  A great interstellar ship slowly passed overhead as
he heard the coach whistling the team together.  Grinning boyishly, he
climbed down from his perch.  Just before he did, however, Kazan got a
quick glimpse of him from the gurney where he was being oiled.  "Man, what
a great guy and what a body!" he thought.

The coach was as clear as he was brief: "Have the courage, men, to play
hard, but play by the rules.  Officers and gentlemen do not deliberately
commit fouls or profit from them; officers and gentlemen do not argue with
the referee.  Compete with honor and uphold the team spirit.  I ask - I
DEMAND - nothing more of you."

Seeing the fleeting look of disbelief on Jeremy's face, Forinth asked, "Not
quite the Earth way, pal?"  "Well," Jeremy answered, "not quite the
American way.  Tell you what though, I think it's great!"

The team, running hard, burst out of the tunnel entrance and onto the field
behind the great scarlet banner.  Thirty-seven thousand or so of the forty
thousand people in the packed stadium went berzerk, waving scarlet pom-poms
and chanting Academy slogans.  The remaining three thousand, clad in green
and gold, had their moment shortly thereafter.  At the coach's signal, the
First 15 sprinted out on the field and set themselves for the toss-in.

As an official clad in a zebra-striped shirt threw the game ball (that
resembled a rather thick American football or, if you will, a slightly
thinner Aussie ball) into the center of the field, the attack forwards of
both teams immediately fell into a vigorous scrum.  As the ball squirted
out, Jeremy immediately gathered it up and took off for the Estashi goal.
Just before three brutes wearing green and gold armbands caught up with
him, he flipped the ball to a teammate who promptly kicked it through the
front upright.  Score: Estashi 0; the Academy 3.  While the crowd roared,
Jeremy walked back towards field center, past the three Estashi players
with whom he had almost had a collision.  "Wow," he thought, "what a stink!
I wonder what those guys eat."  He took his position as they glared at him
with their bright orange eyes.  Again, the scrum...again, the Academy's
Muhrtog team gained control of the ball, but after four minutes could not
score.  Estashi received a throw-in.  Slowly, the bigger green and gold
team pressed the Academy boys back towards their goal.  (They were good -
even if they did smell to high heaven!)  At minute 3.7, their largest
attack forward literally ran over Jeremy.  The big Earthman - to whom this
sort of thing didn't happen too often - watched from his back as the AF
first ran through the front goal posts and then through the back posts.  An
official signaled nine points!  Score: Estashi 9, the Academy 3. As Jeremy
struggled to rise, one of the Estashi players came over and gave him a hand
up.  Grinning and beginning to say thanks, he fell silent when the guy
showed his teeth and muttered (in an accent that would have been laughable
had it been fake), "You stink worse than the other Precopian dogs!  What do
you eat...your own semen?"  Jeremy thought, "You don't want to know, buddy;
you just don't want to know!" and trotted off as Forinth came on to give
him a short breather.  The rest of the First Third saw the two teams
surging back and forth with no additional scoring.

Following the First Break (taken on the field), the Academy team got down
to work.  Always managing to make a few yards, Jeremy, Kazan, and a third
AF were tossing the ball all over the field until a green and gold brute
intercepted it and rolled on the ground.  Estor, another close friend,
jumped on him before he could get up or get the ball off.  Their struggle
resulted in a toss-up that the Academy controlled.  At minute 3.4, Jeremy
managed to stagger through the first goals posts, but was mobbed by five
Estashi players before he could run through the second.  The official
signaled 5 points.  Score: Estashi 9; the Academy 8.  The Earthman was
helped to his feet again after the pile had been cleared, but this time
there were no insults.  A few minutes later, the team trotted back into the
locker room for the (longer) Second Break.

Hearing the band playing in the distance, Jeremy could not believe how sore
he was.  Assistant Trainers wandered through the team whose members were
sprawled out on the carpet, listening to the coach's analysis and
suggestions.  A look was all it took to get some soothing lotion worked
deep into a shoulder or a thigh.  As the team prepared to return to the
field for the Final Third, the coach (who had been at the Academy forever)
blew his whistle.  When quiet reigned, he said simply, "I'm proud of every
one of you."  With a roar that sprang from 30 throats, they leapt up and
headed for the door.

The first couple of minutes of the Final Third told everyone exactly what
the last period would be all about.  Men were being viciously (but legally)
blocked all over the field.  Two Academy players and one Estashi had to be
helped to their team benches.  Finally, the boys got the ball to Jeremy
who, from the furthest out he had ever scored, kicked the ball through the
first uprights for 3 points.  Score: Estashi 9; the Academy 11.  As the
stadium went absolutely bonkers and the band played the songs that excited
them all - though few would openly admit it - the Estashi coach called the
single time-out the green and gold was allowed during the game.  When play
resumed with an Estashi throw-in, their opponents' strategy became clear
immediately.  They played with an eye towards wearing the Academy down
while keeping an eye peeled for an error.  They got it when Jeremy fumbled
as he cut too sharply around the defensive line that Estashi had set up.
With only a minute or two to go, they were being forced steadily backwards.
With only four seconds to play, the Estashi captain kicked the ball through
the first uprights from an impossible angle.  Final Score: Estashi 12; the
Academy 11.

It was a good scene out on the field after the game.  Jeremy was
congratulated by every team member and coach for a fine game.  The Estashi
captain came up, commented that he was happy that their final game with the
Academy would be played on THEIR planet, and slapped Jeremy on the butt.
(Several other green and golds said that they hoped Jeremy would spend some
time in their dorm when they came over, for there was some real food - and
one girl - that he HAD to enjoy!)  As the team walked off the field towards
the locker room, they ran into Kazan's family.  Not the slightest attention
was paid to the boys' nudity - other than by Sejennah, who held an advanced
camera, whispered that she had gotten some unbelievable pictures - and
would like more - and then smiled demurely as her eyes carefully examined
every inch of the sweaty Muhrtog star.  Kazan's face said how seriously she
had violated convention!

(The Call Home)

Had nothing else happened, Jeremy might have taken the loss with a
reasonable level of equanimity.  Unfortunately, he returned to the dorm to
find a message that the Superintendent "requested" his presence in his
office immediately after breakfast on Monday.  Kazan's earlier words rang
in his ears.  In no mood to be "social," he asked for a rain check on a
trip into town and decided that, more than anything, he really wanted to
talk with his mother.

The most advanced electronic equipment at the Academy - equipment that
would allow him to place the call to Earth, wait for a relatively short
time, and then speak with his mother in real time with the two able to see
each other - was located in a carrel on the fourth floor of the library.
When he reached that building, he was delighted to find that the fourth
floor was deserted on a Saturday evening and that the electronic facilities
were available immediately.

After punching his ID data into the computer, he sat back on a comfortable
couch and awaited the signal that the call was ready.  When the chime
sounded, he went over to the carrel and picked up the phone.  As his
mother's face slowly appeared on the large computer screen, the sixteen
year-old just about lost it.  God, he was so far from home.  Realizing that
something was amiss - as mothers are wont to do - Mrs. Taylor quickly
expressed her love for, and pride in her son, and involved him in talking
about how things were going.  Finally, he was able to tell her about the
morning's class and receive her firm assurance that she thought he had done
the right thing.  In fact, she said that she was even more proud of him, if
that were possible.  After he had told her a few funny stories about the
Muhrtog game, they signed off before she had to take out a second mortgage
to pay for the interplanetary connection!  Exhausted, his head slumped
forward on the carrel desk and he began to cry quietly.

"I wish I had a mother with whom I could talk and who cared about me the
way yours cares about you," a voice said in a very quiet and unthreatening
way.  "Wha..." Jeremy choked out, "Who are you?  I didn't think anyone else
was on this whole floor."  Looking through his tears, he dimly saw a lanky,
freckled, kid whose hair is commonly referred to as "Titian Red."  "I'm
Forenshii," he said reluctantly and with body language that suggested he
feared rejection.  "No one else is up here.  No books on this floor... just
carrels.  It's more a part of the computer lab than part of the library."
"Why are you here, Forenshii?" Jeremy asked.  "Real tired after yelling all
afternoon at the game...I just had to get out of the dorm for a while...and
there's another comfortable couch a few rows over," the youngster replied.
"I don't really want to be alone tonight," Jeremy admitted haltingly.  "How
about going over to the Sweet Shop with me and having a milkshake?  My
treat..."  "Yeah...ok," Forenshii said and they were off.

As they came out of the library, Forenshii got his first good look at
Jeremy in the light.  "Oh shit!" he exclaimed, "You're the biggest jock in
the whole damned Academy!  The guy from Earth...Jeremy Taylor...right?"
"Right," Jeremy responded.  "Does that mean you already hate my guts?"  "No
way!" the lanky redhead exclaimed.  "Matter of fact, it may be good.  Looks
like you're 'different', just like me."  "Different?  What do you mean?"
Jeremy asked, feeling just a bit nervous.  "Oh, I don't come from Precopius
either.  I come from Sistraaneiah, one of Precopius's satellite planets.
Not much there other than rocks...and mines.  My father was a Precopian
miner.  My mother was a local woman whom he banged up.  I never knew her.
When he died in an accident nine or ten years ago, I was brought here by
the mining company.  I don't like the Precopians very much, but they've
given me everything, and I have a future.  They just don't like
'half-breeds'."  "So that's the reason for the red hair," Jeremy mused.
"Yep," Forenshii answered.  All the Precopians are dark-haired.  You and I
stand out like sore thumbs!"  "We sure as hell do!" the blond responded.

Over milkshakes, Jeremy learned that Forenshii was fifteen and a Third
Classman.  With a wide grin, he also admitted that the only thing he really
liked about Precopius was Muhrtog!  In fact, he was a Muhrtog fanatic and
kept the data on the best players throughout the Precopian Alliance.  "I
think I've got to add a new one," he allowed, grinning.  When Jeremy
invited him to work out for a while after supper one day - and, maybe, meet
some of the other team members - he just about wet his pants.

They sat talking for a while on the edge of the big fountain in Academy
Square.  Jeremy realized that the kid was lonely, but he was pretty sure
that he wouldn't stick to him like a leech.  Instinct told him that wasn't
his problem.  Maybe, he could help.  Eventually, he had to say that it was
probably time for him to get back to his dorm.  After they had exchanged
phone, room/dorm, and e-mail data, the kid was all smiles.  As he got up
from the fountain wall, he grabbed the back of Forenshii's neck with his
big hand and affectionately squeezed.  The boy giggled and pounded him on
the shoulder.  When Jeremy waved as he walked away, he called out, "Later,
friend."


To Be Continued