
The Nature of Man

By Kenn Ghannon



The Rules

I thought, before we got to the actual reading of this story that we should
set down a couple of ground rules:

1) This story involves frank and explicit descriptions of sex.  If it is
immoral or illegal in your area to read about topics of this nature, please
quit reading here.  If you don't want to read about topics of this nature,
please quit reading here.  (I don't, by the way, agree with the legal
aspects of this.  I believe that the United States, as a society, has gone
too far in putting the onus of maturity on a rather arbitrary physical age.
I've known 13 year olds who were far more mature than some 40 year olds.  Of
course, this may be the exception to the rule, but still.)

2) If you are looking for a story where everyone is always happy all of the
time, please find another story.  If you are looking for a story where
everyone is always sad all of the time, please find another story.  Reality
is somewhere in-between these two extremes and I try to write as near to
reality as an erotic fantasy can get.  Do I succeed?  Only you can tell me.

3) If you are looking for a story that absolutely revolves around sex, sex,
and more sex, please find another story.  I *WON'T* write one of those.
There is sex here, but only as a function of the story.

4) Everything you read hear is fiction.  It never happened, so I am
definitely not writing about YOU.  J

If you've read this far, I hope you enjoy this.



Author's Note: I owe writing this story, and you owe reading this story, to
Frank Downey.  I've often read the stories in the erotic newsgroups -
usually one-handed as most males do - but I've never found one that
particularly satisfied me or made me WANT to read further.  That all changed
after reading Frank's "Naked In School" series.  For the first time, I
actually nearly skipped the sexually detailed writing in order to find out
what happened next.



To put it mildly, I was HOOKED.  I've since read ALL of Frank's stories
including his novel - and I've fallen in love with every one of his
characters.  I know it is impossible, but I hope that Frank never finishes
his novel.because the thought of not being able to read more of Sophia and
Warren's life is a horrible, horrible thought.



However, it was his stories that made me realize that it was possible to
write erotica where romance was more important than sex and story
development more important than anything else.  I will never be able to
bring characters to life as well as he can; I only hope that you might enjoy
my story/stories nearly as much.



--Kenn Ghannon, 06 Jun 2003.



Chapter 3

"Eric, do you know why we're here?" Angela asked the sullen looking boy
after Tom, Jean, Christina and he had sat down at the long conference table.



"Yea," he said quietly.  "I've been bad again."



"Well.  Sort of.  We're here because we just don't know what to do with you
yet."  Angela replied pensively.  Sitting here, looking at the boy, she wasn
't sure if her plan would work any more.  Still, it was a good plan...and you
never knew what could be accomplished by a good plan.



"What happened yesterday?" Angela asked, her eyes still on Eric.



"I knocked over one of Christina's dolls," his eyes went to his slightly
older cousin.  "Sorry." He mumbled.



Christina smiled.  "It's okay, Eric.  I've got others."



"No." Angela interrupted.  "That isn't why you're here Eric.  You're here
because you screamed at your aunt and uncle.  Again.  I thought you said you
'd try not to do that."



"They were hounding me." Eric began.



"Oh, and that gives you the right to yell at them after how nice they've
been?" Angela said, her voice rising.  "I don't know what's gotten into you,
Eric.  Your Aunt and Uncle take you in from off the street, they buy you
clothing, food.  They let you sleep in their house and this is how you
re-pay them?"  Angela's voice was thundering by the time she finished.



"Angela, take it easy on him," Tom interjected.



"I'm tired of taking it easy on him," Angela began her tirade anew.  "I'm
tired of us sitting here saying 'poor Eric, he's got problems', or 'poor
Eric, he's got issues'.  I'm done with poor Eric."  She turned towards Eric.
"You are responsible for your actions, young man.  You and only you.  You
understand me?"



"Yes," Eric's voice was barely a squeak.



Angela paused, pretending to catch her breath.



At a more reasonable level, she resumed.  "Do you want to live with your
aunt and uncle, Eric...or would you rather live in a home?"



"Aunt and uncle, I guess," he whispered.



"Fine, wait in the waiting room."  She watched as Eric got up and walked
into the waiting room, softly closing the door behind him.



"Now, see here, Angela that was..." his voice trailed off as Angela smiled at
him.



"That was what, Tom?  A little over-acted?  Perhaps.  Nothing else was
working, however."



"That was just an act?" Jean said, her eyes as wide as saucers.



"Of course.  You didn't think I was really upset with the boy did you?  Don'
t answer that.  I can see you did.



"Look, nothing else was working with him, so I thought I'd try something
different.  What we have here is a boy or young man who has lost his anchor
in life.  He is so used to being beaten down and called 'worthless' or worse
that he truly believes it now.  That is what we're fighting against.  When
you try to raise him up, he rebels against it.  Why?  Because that is his
world-view.  His world-view is that he is not as good as the least human on
the planet.  When you shake his world-view, it frightens him and he lashes
out...because that's what he's been taught to do.  What we have to do, then,
is find a way of building up his self-esteem without him knowing it.  That's
going to be hard work."



Angelas sat silently for a moment and then sighed.  "I'll tell you
something.  This is going to be really hard, because he is very bright and
deep-down I think he knows what we're trying to do and he's fighting us
tooth and nail.  The good news is, we're winning.  If we weren't, he wouldn'
t be lashing out and trying so hard to stop us."



"So, here's your homework assignment.  Find something for him to do.
Something hard, that will take a lot of work to do.  Preferably something
physical, so he can start getting some of that pent up anger out.  It needs
to be something that he can get better at, though.  Something that will help
him realize his own self worth."



"Well," Tom began.  "How about weight-lifting?  I've still got my old set in
the basement, and I use them from time to time.  I could get him started
there."



Angela chuckled.  "Well, I'm not sure I want him necessarily getting strong
enough to act out some of his more violent past, but let's give that a shot
and see how it goes.  Only you HAVE to force him to do it, even if he doesn'
t want to.  Don't give him any praise at all, at first though.  After a week
or two, let him know - very subtly - that you notice a little change in him.
Okay?"





The first day of high school started on a dreary, rainy day.  Eric
approached the new school year with a little trepidation.  He loved school,
it had provided his only release from his trials at home, but he was a
little afraid of starting at a new school.  Doubtless, there would be
bullies here, too, just waiting to beat him up like at the old school.  Oh
well, as long as they had a library, he'd have a place to hide.  It was the
one reason why reading was his favorite pastime.



Amazingly, school went uneventfully normal the first day.  He didn't make
any friends, of course (who would want to even be seen with him, he thought
dully), but he didn't make any enemies either.  Oh, some kids had looked at
him questioningly, but that was to be expected.  All in all, it wasn't bad.



Of course, the first day of school was on a Friday and it was only a half
day - just long enough to pick up his schedule and get the layout of the
school, but it was enough.  He had checked out the library and been happily
impressed.  They had a LARGE library with a lot of books which meant he was
sure to find interesting stuff that he hadn't read.  He preferred Science
Fiction to read, it allowed him to escape the world if only for a little
while, but he read almost anything.



He was on his way out of the school ready to go home when he nearly tripped
over his own feet.



The angel was talking with Christina.  He could remember her vividly in her
black one piece bathing suit.  Her hair dripping water down her back.  The
graceful way she moved, the swell of her butt, the way her breasts bounced
out of the water.  He had thought of her often in the week and a half since
that day by the lake.  He had rarely been able to stop thinking about her,
really.



There were several students around Christina, but Eric only saw the
red-haired angel.



"There he is now.  Eric," Christina called.  But her voice barely
registered.  He couldn't take his eyes from her.  He imagined her,
descending from the clouds like some goddess, flowers springing from nothing
wherever her dainty feet dared to kiss the earth.  He imagined her laughter
like a tinkling bell, her voice like the summer breeze whispering through.



"ERIC!" Christina yelled again, breaking through his reverie.  A brief flash
of annoyance fluttered across his face, but he moved slowly to Christina.



"Yea," Eric mumbled.  He felt so awkward, so out of touch.  He didn't know
what to say or what to do.  He wanted, badly, to speak to her to say what he
was thinking...but he couldn't handle the thought of her rejecting him.



"I'd like you to meet some friends of mine.  Daniel Radder, Evan Thyme and
Vic Barrow, and this is my best friend, Shawn Winters."



He shook hands with each of them in turn, but only her name registered
completely on his mind.  Shawn.  Even her name was beautiful.



"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said softly.  He was scared and awkward.
He wasn't used to meeting people.  He wasn't used to people even
acknowledging his presence.  Damn it, he LIKED being ignored.



"Hey, we're going to the coffee house on Mill and Grove.  Wanna come?"
Christina asked.



To say yes...would take more guts than Eric knew.  He wanted to be nearer her,
but was too afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing.  "N..n...no," he
stammered, his tongue thick in his mouth.  He dropped his eyes to the
ground. "I think Uncle Tom wants me home."



Christina looked at him, concerned.  She wasn't sure what she saw in his
face, but she knew that pushing him to go wouldn't help right now.  Well, if
he wasn't going to go.



"Okay.  Can you tell mom and dad that I'm going to the coffee house?  I'll
be home in a little while."



"Sure," he mumbled, his eyes never leaving the ground.  "I'll tell them."



"Okay.  See you in a bit."  She turned and walked away with her little crowd
of friends.



"Wow, Chris, you were right, he is really cute," he heard Shawn say as she
walked away.



He looked up quickly to try to figure out why she would be so mean as to
tease him like that, but they had walked, laughing, on up the street.



His eyes returning to the ground, he started walking to his aunt and uncle's
house.





"Hey, Eric," his aunt smiled at him as he walked in the door.  "How as the
first day?"



"It was okay.  Nothing big," Eric mumbled.  "Christina said she'd be home in
a little while.  She went with some friends to the coffee house."



 "Her second home," she laughed.  "Why didn't you go with them?"



"Well, I figured Uncle Tom would want me home," Eric spoke softly.



Jean remembered the weight-lifting course Tom was force-feeding the boy.  He
had been at it only a week, but her husband thought he might show a little
promise.



"I'm sure he wouldn't have minded," she smiled.  "You should go next time."



"Maybe."



It was hard pulling him out when he was like this, Jean knew.  But she
forced herself to try.



"So, what classes did you get?"



"I have English Lit first period, study hall, algebra, lunch, world history,
and biology."  He ticked them off like in a dull wooden voice.  He wasn't
really thinking about his classes.  His mind was still on Shawn.



"Well, sounds like a full load to me.  I didn't know they would start
freshman off so rough.  Anyway, Tom's in his office.  I don't think he'd
mind if you knocked to see if he's ready."



Eric put his books in his room and knocked on the study.



"Come in," Tom called and Eric entered.  Tom was hunched over his keyboard
typing quickly.



"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." Eric began.



"No interruption at all, Eric.  I was just finishing.  Ready to hit the
iron?"



"Sure."  His mind was wandering back to the peasant blouse she was wearing,
the way her hair was pulled back by the black head band.



He was still thinking about her when his uncle and he wandered into the
basement to lift weights.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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