Miscellanea Sensibilium

The Memoirs of Tarquin C. Ferret

(Lampeter Student 1822-1984)

Book 72 in a series of 34.
Tarquin becomes a man, or, Terror from above
(Crumpet forks at dawn)

Imagine, a brisk windy day in autumn. The sun shines down upon the trees that ring the Quad, bringing forth a cacophony of colours from the dying red gold leaves. Then, imagine if you will, a boy, firm of thought and strong of purpose, filled with youthful resolution and an earnest look to his ruddy cheeks. This was the scene that fateful Thursday morning back in 1835. Young Tarquin (myself) is thirteen, and is faced with the first real test of his burgeoning and swelling manhood. This trial by fire takes the muscular and rampant form of Rupert Camisole Chesterfield III, or, as he was better known to his friends (although he had few of those, and gained respect by his reign of terror and his always warm toasting fork), Geraldine. Why he had gained this moniker was unknown to the lower years, and those who dared to ask were whisked away to the room for a sharp lesson in manners.

Young Tarquin had managed, through his cunning and wit, (and perhaps his stout new running shoes sent by his Uncle Sheryl) to avoid the attentions of Rupert throughout his first three years at Walford-Bryn Preparatory School for Boys; but this had only served to pique Ruperts interest, and to swell his desire for the young Tarquin from a vague stirring in the loins into a throbbing, almost overwhelming, bonfire of lust and heady passion.

This undesirable turn of events came to a head when young Tarquin took longer than usual in the communal shower that morning. Whilst pulling his jockey shorts over his youthfully athletic buttock cheeks, he sensed a movement behind him. All the other boys had long since left for breakfast. Tarquin was alone. Turning, he felt a vague sense of fear and loathing, and there was an all-too-familiar scent of animal-like musk in the air. His suspicions were confirmed: it was Rupert, his face pink with anticipation, impending conquest and triumph.

Tarquin began to quiver. He had known this day would come, but had hoped he would be able to squeeze a few more drops of joy out of life before facing his nemesis. Then, remembering the oft-repeated words of his Uncle Sheryl (the black sheep of the family, but Tarquin had always been fond of him. And vice versa.), "Never take a bull by the horns when you can squeeze his balls." Tarquin took careful aim, and delivered a mighty blow with his oft-praised right foot, right to the core of Ruperts rearing manhood.

After a heart-pounding flight through the corridors of the Leonard Nimoy Arts Building, closely followed by the three-hundred-pound mass of expectant lust that was Rupert, Tarquin found himself trapped in the little-used Northwest corner of the Quad. With nowhere to run, Tarquin turned and defiantly raised his buttocks in the air wanting to get the horror over with. Rupert, faced with compliance and submission, became confused, his long-held fantasy of forceful conquest shattered in the face of utter posterior passivity. After a short while of holding his breath, waiting for the inevitable breach of his purity, Tarquin stood up. Turning around to see what had become of his foe, he was greeted by the cheers of the lower school, peering from the windows of the Mary Tyler Moore Science Building. Tarquin was the hero once more. Rupert left shortly afterwards, his reputation in tatters (He later became the Member of Parliament for West Spalding-on-the-Moor).