The Tribe
folder
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
41
Views:
6,117
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
41
Views:
6,117
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 36
©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 36
They began to earn more feathers as they identified onions and garlic cloves and tomatoes, and whenever they performed a new task especially well. Chucky felt better. They felt all grown up when the Chief allowed them to take a little taste of the wine before using a cup to deglaze the pan.
"Excellent, Lads. Now, that'll take about at least an hour to cook." Chief Wallace came out from behind the table and removed his apron and stood in front of them. "Now, I wonder if any of you fuckin smart kids can think of something to do while we wait." Chucky grinned. He was ready. He reached over and put his hand inside the Chief's breechcloth, knelt down on the porch, and opened his mouth. "Ahh, I somehow knew Dog Chucky would know how to thank me for teaching him to cook." As the tribe looked on, Chucky happily licked the old man's cock from balls to piss slit, and then went to work sucking. "Nothing prepares the fuckin palate for a good venison stew better than a mouth full of fuckin good man cream. That's the way, my Son. Old Chief Wallace is going to fill your fuckin mouth real fuckin good.
Quentin decided not to wait until the stew was done and went over to Brave Howard to thank him for shooting the deer. Thank him the Pusscock way with his mouth wrapped around the teen's schlong. The other two inductees found other members of the tribe to service to earn their white feathers. Ricky didn't need any feathers, but instead went into the longhouse where he took Chief Jason's cock up his ass. He was a full-fledged Pusscock now and he felt honored to give his puss to any member of the Tribe who wanted it.
As the midday sun beat down on the campsite, there was a strong scent of testosterone in the air, but even that was soon overwhelmed by the delicious aroma of venison stew. A long picnic table was set up, and the four inductees were invited to share their first meal with the tribe. By the time they sat down, each of their asses sported eight or nine yellow feathers and five or six white ones. After the filling meal, Conan, Chucky and Jackie all wanted to thank Brave Howard. The mighty hunter chose Chucky to go behind the Centaur on his breechcloth and get a mouthful of teen cream and another white feather. He promised the other two, he'd be ready for one of them in about an hour.
It was time for the tracking lesson. The tribe took off up the trail, which varied from soft sand to mud to dirt to gravel. There were many places where the four barefoot lads envied their classmate who already had his moccasins. "See?" Brave Greg said, pointing to a track in the mud. "What animal walked here?" The boys knew it was way too big for a squirrel or rabbit and Chucky knew it didn't look like a dog paw. Quentin finally guessed deer, but only after being reminded of their wonderful lunch. The boys studied its shape carefully. They learned the tracks could tell them which way the deer was headed, and even how long ago it had passed this way. They learned morning would have been a better time to look for tracks since many animals are active at night. "Now, come here, Ricky. Look up there. Your friend, the wise owl was perched up in that fuckin tree last night."
Ricky stared at the empty branches, along with his young friends. "How can you tell?"
.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 36
They began to earn more feathers as they identified onions and garlic cloves and tomatoes, and whenever they performed a new task especially well. Chucky felt better. They felt all grown up when the Chief allowed them to take a little taste of the wine before using a cup to deglaze the pan.
"Excellent, Lads. Now, that'll take about at least an hour to cook." Chief Wallace came out from behind the table and removed his apron and stood in front of them. "Now, I wonder if any of you fuckin smart kids can think of something to do while we wait." Chucky grinned. He was ready. He reached over and put his hand inside the Chief's breechcloth, knelt down on the porch, and opened his mouth. "Ahh, I somehow knew Dog Chucky would know how to thank me for teaching him to cook." As the tribe looked on, Chucky happily licked the old man's cock from balls to piss slit, and then went to work sucking. "Nothing prepares the fuckin palate for a good venison stew better than a mouth full of fuckin good man cream. That's the way, my Son. Old Chief Wallace is going to fill your fuckin mouth real fuckin good.
Quentin decided not to wait until the stew was done and went over to Brave Howard to thank him for shooting the deer. Thank him the Pusscock way with his mouth wrapped around the teen's schlong. The other two inductees found other members of the tribe to service to earn their white feathers. Ricky didn't need any feathers, but instead went into the longhouse where he took Chief Jason's cock up his ass. He was a full-fledged Pusscock now and he felt honored to give his puss to any member of the Tribe who wanted it.
As the midday sun beat down on the campsite, there was a strong scent of testosterone in the air, but even that was soon overwhelmed by the delicious aroma of venison stew. A long picnic table was set up, and the four inductees were invited to share their first meal with the tribe. By the time they sat down, each of their asses sported eight or nine yellow feathers and five or six white ones. After the filling meal, Conan, Chucky and Jackie all wanted to thank Brave Howard. The mighty hunter chose Chucky to go behind the Centaur on his breechcloth and get a mouthful of teen cream and another white feather. He promised the other two, he'd be ready for one of them in about an hour.
It was time for the tracking lesson. The tribe took off up the trail, which varied from soft sand to mud to dirt to gravel. There were many places where the four barefoot lads envied their classmate who already had his moccasins. "See?" Brave Greg said, pointing to a track in the mud. "What animal walked here?" The boys knew it was way too big for a squirrel or rabbit and Chucky knew it didn't look like a dog paw. Quentin finally guessed deer, but only after being reminded of their wonderful lunch. The boys studied its shape carefully. They learned the tracks could tell them which way the deer was headed, and even how long ago it had passed this way. They learned morning would have been a better time to look for tracks since many animals are active at night. "Now, come here, Ricky. Look up there. Your friend, the wise owl was perched up in that fuckin tree last night."
Ricky stared at the empty branches, along with his young friends. "How can you tell?"
.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.