The Tribe
folder
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
41
Views:
6,116
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
41
Views:
6,116
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction about oral & anal sex between men and boys, aged 10-16. The characters, locations & incidents are fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coinc
Chapter 35
©2010 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.
.oOo.
Chapter 35
On the porch of the longhouse was a large table set out with pots and bowls and hot plates and all the ingredients for the cooking lesson. Standing behind the table was Chief Wallace. Over his breechcloth, he wore a white apron and on his head was a white chef's hat. The five fifth graders and their mentors took their place on the other side of the table, their asses pointed out toward the rest of the tribe which was sitting on the grass enjoying the view, for while all ten of them were also donned in aprons and chef's hats (which looked pretty goofy on Native Americans), the aprons didn't cover their rear ends, four of which were butt naked with feather collections above their asses.
"Now, Boys, look around you, how many squaws do you see in our tribe?" The lads giggled. "That's right, our tribe has Chiefs and Braves and right now one Rookie but pretty soon four more Rookies, but no bitches. So I don't want to hear any fuckin nonsense about cooking being women's work. In the tribe, you will learn to cook all kinds of delicious meals.
"Let's see how much you already know. What's this?"
Quentin called out, "a carrot."
"That's right. It's a fuckin carrot. Brave Harry, give your boy a yellow feather."
Shit, thought Chucky, who doesn't know that?? Duh!! He was going to pay close attention and get the next answer. He wanted those feathers.
"Now each of you pick up a carrot. Your mentors are going to teach you how to peel it and then chop it up without chopping off your fuckin fingers. I'm sure your fuckin fingers are delicious, just like your little dicks, but we don't want any extra ingredients in our stew."
Brave Billy picked up one of the carrots and aimed it at Conan's asshole, much to the delight of the tribe. Conan didn't notice; he was too concerned about chopping off his fingers. The mentors showed the boys how to use the peelers and then how to cup their fingers and hold the carrot while they chopped, and the lads soon got the idea. Chief Wallace watched approvingly. "You will each need two cups of chopped carrots." It took a while, but the audience was enjoying the show.
"Now, Boys, what's this?"
"Meat," shouted Chucky, expecting a feather for his quick answer.
"Not fuckin good enough. That's a half-assed answer. What kind of meat is it?" Chief Wallace handed it to Chucky who looked it over, shrugged and passed it on to Jackie.
"Beef?"
"Fuckin good guess. Wrong, but still worth a feather for trying." Now Chucky was getting angry. Ollie leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Remember the Wise Owl."
"Don't let my feelings cloud my brain," Chucky mumbled. Ricky guessed chicken which did not earn a feather. Chucky felt better. He knew it wasn't fuckin chicken.
"Brave Sly, tell us what meat we're cooking today."
"Venison, Sir." The boys looked at each other. What the hell is venison? Of course, Chief Wallace knew what they were thinking.
"Brave Norman, tell these fuckin idiots what venison is."
"It's deer meat, Sir." The boys looked at it with a mixture of abhorrence and awe.
"That's right. I took it out of the freezer this morning. One of Brave Howard's arrows downed this eight point buck last fall, and now the tribe gets to feast on his hunting skill. Brave Howard gives 110% for the tribe, Boys. Later, when you're eating this delicious venison stew, you be sure to thank Brave Howard. By now, I think you all know how to show your appreciation, and when you do Brave Howard might just stick a white feather in your ass." The lads caught the Chief's drift.
They learned to cut up their meat into proper sized chunks, toss them with olive oil and the Chief's "secret" herb mixture. Of course, every Pusscock knew the "secret" formula, but it was one of those things they were sworn never to tell anyone outside the tribe. They learned how to sear the meat and when the oil sputtered they were glad they had aprons over their vulnerable boydicks.
.oOo.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.
.oOo.
Chapter 35
On the porch of the longhouse was a large table set out with pots and bowls and hot plates and all the ingredients for the cooking lesson. Standing behind the table was Chief Wallace. Over his breechcloth, he wore a white apron and on his head was a white chef's hat. The five fifth graders and their mentors took their place on the other side of the table, their asses pointed out toward the rest of the tribe which was sitting on the grass enjoying the view, for while all ten of them were also donned in aprons and chef's hats (which looked pretty goofy on Native Americans), the aprons didn't cover their rear ends, four of which were butt naked with feather collections above their asses.
"Now, Boys, look around you, how many squaws do you see in our tribe?" The lads giggled. "That's right, our tribe has Chiefs and Braves and right now one Rookie but pretty soon four more Rookies, but no bitches. So I don't want to hear any fuckin nonsense about cooking being women's work. In the tribe, you will learn to cook all kinds of delicious meals.
"Let's see how much you already know. What's this?"
Quentin called out, "a carrot."
"That's right. It's a fuckin carrot. Brave Harry, give your boy a yellow feather."
Shit, thought Chucky, who doesn't know that?? Duh!! He was going to pay close attention and get the next answer. He wanted those feathers.
"Now each of you pick up a carrot. Your mentors are going to teach you how to peel it and then chop it up without chopping off your fuckin fingers. I'm sure your fuckin fingers are delicious, just like your little dicks, but we don't want any extra ingredients in our stew."
Brave Billy picked up one of the carrots and aimed it at Conan's asshole, much to the delight of the tribe. Conan didn't notice; he was too concerned about chopping off his fingers. The mentors showed the boys how to use the peelers and then how to cup their fingers and hold the carrot while they chopped, and the lads soon got the idea. Chief Wallace watched approvingly. "You will each need two cups of chopped carrots." It took a while, but the audience was enjoying the show.
"Now, Boys, what's this?"
"Meat," shouted Chucky, expecting a feather for his quick answer.
"Not fuckin good enough. That's a half-assed answer. What kind of meat is it?" Chief Wallace handed it to Chucky who looked it over, shrugged and passed it on to Jackie.
"Beef?"
"Fuckin good guess. Wrong, but still worth a feather for trying." Now Chucky was getting angry. Ollie leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Remember the Wise Owl."
"Don't let my feelings cloud my brain," Chucky mumbled. Ricky guessed chicken which did not earn a feather. Chucky felt better. He knew it wasn't fuckin chicken.
"Brave Sly, tell us what meat we're cooking today."
"Venison, Sir." The boys looked at each other. What the hell is venison? Of course, Chief Wallace knew what they were thinking.
"Brave Norman, tell these fuckin idiots what venison is."
"It's deer meat, Sir." The boys looked at it with a mixture of abhorrence and awe.
"That's right. I took it out of the freezer this morning. One of Brave Howard's arrows downed this eight point buck last fall, and now the tribe gets to feast on his hunting skill. Brave Howard gives 110% for the tribe, Boys. Later, when you're eating this delicious venison stew, you be sure to thank Brave Howard. By now, I think you all know how to show your appreciation, and when you do Brave Howard might just stick a white feather in your ass." The lads caught the Chief's drift.
They learned to cut up their meat into proper sized chunks, toss them with olive oil and the Chief's "secret" herb mixture. Of course, every Pusscock knew the "secret" formula, but it was one of those things they were sworn never to tell anyone outside the tribe. They learned how to sear the meat and when the oil sputtered they were glad they had aprons over their vulnerable boydicks.
.oOo.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.