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Subject: Milkweed Island – Part 3 Disclaimer: Persons under 18 should stop reading now. This series depicts a tribal society in fictional world with social norms, and biological and ecological realities different from anything that exists in our world. Events and persons are completely fictional. This story belongs to the author. Do not copy, adapt or repost outside this website. The Nifty Archives have provided a venue for many years, however, this cannot be done for free. Please consider a fty/donate.html. Feedback appreciated! father———-mother _______________________|______________________________ | | | | | | | Simal Pecha Betsu Akota Omi Kala baby -Simal- Simal wretched the last of the hide off the hog and drove his skinning stone into a stump. His muscled forearms were sticky with gore. His nose itched terribly but he couldn’t scratch it. He was hot and irritated. His father rose from butchering the organ meat and stretched his back. Both men were naked so as not to get blood on their loincloths. “Take the hide around back. Your grandfather can clean it while we butcher the carcass.” “Where is Pecha? This is his hog?” “Simal, I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to butcher your kill in exchange,” Father said, gesturing at the two dead rabbits with his chin. “I was out there just as long. He got lucky. There are hardly any hogs left on the island anyway, the way our numbers keep growing.” This was a thinly veiled dig at his father. A family of five sons and two daughters was large to the point of being inappropriate. His father’s piety shielded the family from some criticism but Simal still heard quite a bit. For all his talk about sharing seed with his fellow man, an awful lot found its way to Mother’s womb. Simal remembered a night nearly a year ago when he awoke to his father fucking Mother at the edge of the family sleeping mat. He could tell by the short breaths that they were near the end. Quietly he crawled over his sleeping brothers and sister and scooted his head between his mother’s spread legs where his father was thrusting. Although Simal was a big boy, nearly the size of his father, the man hardly seemed to notice and shifted his legs to accommodate. Then just as Father was reaching his climax Simal grabbed behind his balls at the root and pulled his cock out of his mother on the upstroke. His cheek was smashed against his mother’s slimy crotch, with his upturned mouth inches away from her gaping cunt. He deftly brought his father’s throbbing cock into his open mouth without missing a beat just as the man began to cum. The taste had woken Simal from his stupor: fish, metal and musk. But it was quickly replaced by the more familiar flavor of his father’s seed. Father had plunged his cock down his eldest son’s throat relentlessly as he came. Simal nearly choked. Once it was over father helped his son sit up. Even in the moonlight, Simal could tell the man was blushing beneath his post-coital flush. “Be careful my son. You could have made me spill seed or even injured my manhood.” “Does an injured manhood mean no more brothers?” Simal shot back, his angry face glistening with his mother’s juice and his father’s sweat. For a moment he thought his father might hit him. But instead he just left the hut, his thick semi-erect cock bobbing in the moonlight. In the end it hadn’t mattered though. They fucking continued, and not long after his mother announced she was pregnant and a season later she gave birth to his little sister, who was now on her breast. Simal could barely look at them without a feeling of disgust, and he felt a similar feeling when he saw his father’s big fruitful balls. Still, he swallowed his anger and as much of his father’s cum as he could in order to keep it from becoming yet another sibling in his mother’s belly. Eight children would be a scandal that even Father’s religious talk could not prevent. Just thinking of it now made Simal frustrated. He walked over to the stump where he’d laid his clutch of milkweed. The plant was the only thing that calmed him. He chewed it now nearly all the time, much to his father’s consternation. With his hands covered in pig guts he couldn’t pick up a stalk so he used his teeth to pull one out, and moved it to the corner of his mouth. The familiar, green, bittersweet, musky taste washed over him and he felt more at ease. As he stood, he caught the glint of sunlight flashing off the thin stream of precum that hung from his cock. It drizzled down unbroken past his knees and caught the breeze, getting tangled in his leg hair before it broke off from his foreskin. This is what came of his milkweed habit. It no longer gave him aching, swollen balls but his cock wept a near constant small stream of clear fluid. In his father’s eyes, it came dangerously close to the sin of spilling seed, but he had given up trying to scold Simal about it. Simal walked back to the butchering with the milkweed between his teeth and ignored his father’s grimace. Father had already taken the hide around to grandfather and now he and Simal two began stripping the boar meat from tendon and bone. “Omi caught Betsu spilling his seed alone in the woods today,” he said with a slight nod towards Simal’s drooling dick. “What concern is it of hers? She’s a girl.” “She’s concerned for our family honor,” he nearly growled. Then he lowered his voice. “I should have spoken to him sooner. I always forget his age because he is so small.” Simal grunted in agreement. The boy was a sickly runt with a weird, unpleasant manner. He stared too long at mens’ cocks and he was always mooning over some boy or another. It was fine to suck cocks and drink cum. It was necessary. But Betsu’s pestering enthusiasm for it made his older brothers loath to give him their seed. “Perhaps it is time for his ceremony.” “Father no! He’s a wimp. He’ll embarrass the family. Give him a few more seasons to grow.” “He is making seed. And it is thick and white. It is time for him to get his cloth.” “He doesn’t have any hair worth covering up. Everyone will laugh.” “He has hair. Take a closer look.” Simal looked at his father skeptically. They finished the butchering in silence. As he stood to leave his father said, “Go wash up and then find your mother. I want you to add your seed to the men’s porridge. Your uncle will have dinner with us tonight.” “I don’t want to. You do it.” Simal hated spilling his seed in front of his mother. “I’m spent son, and you are overflowing.” He gestured again to the shimmering strand. “No!” Simal stormed off. He washed at a basin and then spotted Betsu playing with a doll in the yard. Earlier, the boy had become queasy at the sight of the butchering and begged to be excused. Simal walked over to him. “Father says you are becoming quite the little man.” Betsu looked up startled, but his eyes quickly fell to the crystal thread swinging from Simal’s thick dusky foreskin. Then he looked away embarrassed. His awkwardness and lack of self-control angered Simal more. Father was foolish to suggest that this boy was a man. “Sit on your knees and open your mouth.” “No. I’m full. Father shared with me…” “A real man is never full of seed. This is an important time for you. You need to be strong. Now hurry up.” The pale bony boy with shaggy hair and dark wet eyes obediently dropped the doll and rolled onto his knees with his head thrown back and his mouth open wide. Simal watched as his little cock sprang to full erection in an instant. He could see the wisps of fine black hair that Father manisa escort spoke of. What a wretched creature. Simal began jacking his thick, blunt cock. With every downstroke his purple cockhead poked out of his veiny foreskin and more precum drizzled into Betsu’s upturned mouth. As soon as he tasted it, his shy queasy face turned hungry and intense. He raised up on his haunches and sucked Simal’s cock deep into his mouth. The roof of his mouth was tender and hot and he expertly wrapped his cheeks tightly around the sides of the bulky member, covering his teeth so that all Simal could feel was wet warmth. Simal was shocked at his little brother’s skill. The boy took his cock deep into his throat, burying his tiny nose in Simal’s dense thicket of pubes. Then he began a steady bobbing rhythm up and down along the entire length of his dick while wiggling and flicking his tongue against the veiny underside. Across the yard he saw Omi staring intently. The girl had seen what men do before, but it was rare to see it out in the open yard in the mid-afternoon sun. He could hear the birds chirping and cawing in the trees, and the intense pulse of cicadas. He hadn’t cum for several days, since the first night of the hunt when he and his friend Baku did a quick 69 before bed. The pleasure was powerful. All his senses felt heightened: the sour and bitter taste of onions and milkweed in his mouth; the musky stink of his underarms and the sweetness of blooming jasmine; the warmth of the sun on his shoulders, the heat of his brother’s mouth and the sensation of precum flowing from his cock like piss. Father walked out from behind the hut and saw them. He glared at Simal’s defiance. The look was all Simal needed. The feeling of triumph sent him over the edge and he began pumping seed down Betsu’s gullet. He could feel the shots violently hitting the back of Betsu’s throat. The boy’s gag reflex was incredible. Betsu tried to pull off a bit but Simal grab his small head with both hands and pushed it in his crotch. Once he was done shooting he shoved Betsu’s head backwards with both hands like he would a ball and the boy went tumbling backwards sputtering and coughing. He started to wretch but kept his teeth clenched tight and swallow what had come up. He looked up at Simal with hurt, tearful eyes. “Why did you hold me on there so tight. I couldn’t even taste it.” “What?!” Simal shouted in disbelief. “You… you are a freak.” Simal left his brother in the dust just as their father reached his side. “Betsu, are you ok? Simal, that is not the way we share seed. I told you to help with the porridge.” “We have to make that thing a man. He needs all the help he can get,” Simal shouted over his shoulder not looking back. He was almost to the woods when Pecha emerged from the path with Akota and his ghoulish little friend and several other boys around Pecha’s age. They all stopped short. Simal was suddenly aware that he had left his loincloth at the basin. Everyone was looking at his slimy, deflated cock. Pecha looked as though he was about to say something but Simal pushed through the crowd of naked and nearly naked boys with his sinewy arms and marched into the woods. -Gep- All the boys had been invited to dinner that night, Pecha’s four friends, Gep himself, as well as Akota’s uncle and two other priests. Islanders did not eat fresh meat very often and Akota’s family was generous and proud to share Pecha’s kill. The men and boys sat around the fire in the center of the hut. The fire was kept low and the smoke drifted lazily up into the rafters and seeped out through the thatch and spaces between the eaves. The hearth was not large and everyone crowded in to grill strips of boar meat over the embers. Kala sat in his father’s lap, Betsu sat between his uncle’s legs and Akota and Gep each sat in front of one of the visiting priests. The priest behind Gep was named Kiga. He was a lean noble man who looked to be the same age as Akota’s father. He sat on his butt with his legs on either side of Gep, and so close to the sunken hearth that Gep’s back leaned against his smooth rippled stomach. He grilled meat for the both of them, plopping greasy slices into Gep’s mouth while they were still sizzling hot. The women moved around behind in the flickering shadows: Akota’s mother, grandmother and sister Omi. Omi occasionally wriggled her head into the circle to listen, until her father shot her a warning look and she slinked away. The older men talked tribal politics and local gossip. Hunting had been good this season. Raids were few. The island was happy. As the men spoke, the smoke, the shadows and musky meat lulled Gep into a haze. He sank into the warmth of Kiga’s body as the priest began absently plucking at his tiny brown nipple with greasy fingers. The virile tang of wild boar mix with the considerable amount of boy cum in his gut to make a heady, gurgling stew. Eventually the conversation turned to the upcoming manhood ceremony. This was a topic that could interest Gep. He was too young for the ceremony, but the pomp and secrecy that surrounded it was a source of endless fascination. He looked around enviously at Pecha and his friends. Their fleshy, hairy genitals stuffed inside loincloths. He felt the bulge of Kiga’s special red loincloth brushing against his naked butt. Was it getting bigger? Akota’s father broached the subject of Betsu possibly joining the ceremony and being inducted as a man of the tribe. It was difficult for Gep to imagine a boy no much bigger than himself becoming a man. Although Betsu was two years older than him, he always imagined him as the same age or even younger, and also somewhat beneath him in the social standing of village boys. Could he really be given a loincloth to cover such boyish manhood as that? He noticed that Betsu’s uncle was gently groping Betsu’s penis as the conversation continued, as if to judge its maturity for himself. Betsu had his eyes closed and his little head was nuzzling his uncle’s neck. Perhaps he thought his chances in this discussion were better if he appeared not to be listening? Perhaps he really didn’t care about becoming a man. He was a strange boy after all. The priest behind Akota, a burly older man named Goro, wondered whether Betsu might be better suited for the priest class. “You say he has a special passion for the seed of men. Perhaps he is better suited for the life of a priest than that of a woodsman or a farmer. Do you think he has dreams of taking a wife and being a father?” Pecha’s nasty friend Toma stifled a snicker. Gep could still remember the sour taste of his clotted cum over all the other flavors of the night. His stomach turned. “Betsu,” his father said. “Do you wish to become a father one day?” Betsu awoke from his nuzzling. “I don’t know Father. Whatever you wish.” “How about a priest?” asked his uncle. “Would you like to be an acolyte and one day become a priest like me?” “Yes.” Goro nodded in approval. “It will be easier for us to petition for his induction into manhood if he plans to become a acolyte. What happens among us red cloths is less of a concern to the pride of woodsmen and village gossipers.” “Wonderful. Let me bring out the men’s porridge then.” Akota’s father rose to fetch the porridge which could not be handled by a woman’s hands once it had been seeded, but he was stopped by Simal entering the room carrying the wide flat beaten metal bowl. “Sorry I’m late Father. I blessed the porridge just now.” Simal’s face was meek and apologetic. “Oh thank you son. I thought you would have been tired after your… hard maraş escort work this afternoon. You didn’t need to do that. Our guests were kind enough to lend us their blessings.” Even Gep, young as he was, could hear reproach in the man’s voice. He knew that asking a guest to seed the men’s porridge, especially in a family of 5 boys was an embarrassment. Simal recognized the rebuke as well and dropped his eyes to the floor. His father took the porridge and knelt down to remove the grill and replace it with the metal bowl full of spiced rice porridge. As soon as the embers heated the bowl the room filled with the smell of rice, spice, milkweed and men’s cum. Simal’s fresh load which laid splattered on top melted into the mix. There was not a lot to go around with such a crowd, but the men and boys were already full on boar meat. Akota’s grandfather took the honor of doling out a small portion for each onto a cupped waxy green leaf. The leaves were passed around the circle until each man and boy had one. Then, following the old man’s lead, everyone raised their leaf to their mouth and sucked down the hot, steamy glob of porridge. The spices and the milkweed gave the glob a spicy bittersweet flavor. As it oozed down his throat he felt as though his belly was full to bursting with musky, manly seed. His cock and balls tingled at the thought. Then Akota’s father brought out a surprise: a flask of yam spirits in which the boar’s balls had been pickled all afternoon. Gep knew the man was not much of a drinker. He often heard him warn his son’s against the sin of drunkenness. But the occasion of Pecha’s successful hunt had inspired him to serve this potent spirit. As the flask was passed around among the men, Gep expected the boys to get passed over. But when Akota’s uncle finished his draught, he put the flask to Betsu’s lips and gave him a little sip. Betsu sputtered and coughed, eliciting more snickers from Pecha’s friends. Next Goro took a drink and then gave a sip to Akota. Gep could tell from his friend’s wince that the drink was flavorful and strong. Gep had tasted yam liquor before and knew it burned, but he had never had this virile boar potion. As Goro leaned over to hand the flask to Kiga behind him, Gep noticed that the old man had undone his loincloth and had been rubbing his erect cock against Akota’s lower back. Akota seemed unconcerned about this and his flushed face stared dreamily into the fire, his body pressed against the man behind him. Around the dwindling fire he saw that Toma and Roke had also slipped off their loincloths and were casually stroking their hardening cocks. Could they really be horny again? It was only a few hours ago that they had filled Gep’s entire mouth with cum. And the priests had shot into the men’s porridge no more than an hour ago. Perhaps the gamey meat and men’s porridge had recharged their loins. Perhaps priests never grew tired of cumming. Who could truly understand the power of the priests? Kiga took a long drink of the liquor and then began to cough. This made Gep nervous. If this holy man couldn’t handle it, how would he fare? He didn’t want Toma to snicker at him. Then Kiga brought the flask to his lips and manually tilted the boy’s head back and supporting his back with the length of his arm. As he tilted the flask up, Gep felt the priest wiggle his long middle finger under his butt, down the length of his crack and stop on the fiery heat of his hole. The liquor hit his mouth like a bee sting. It was hot and sharp, then sweet and rotten and finally rich and pungent and very gamey. The heat plunged straight to his belly as Kiga pushed his finger up and down in a pulsing rhythm against his tight asshole. He felt like two fires were rushing to meet in his belly where and ocean of thick white cum sloshed around inside of him. His head was spinning as Kiga withdrew the bottle from his lips. “This little one has quite a thrist,” said the priest. “He sure does,” replied Toma with a whisper. No one laughed. Those who had drunk the potion were transfixed on the fire. Those who hadn’t drunk yet were transfixed on the bottle. Gep felt Kiga remove his finger from his crack and fumble with his loincloth. Then the elegant priest arched his back and lifted Gep up a bit, sliding his hard man’s cock along the length of Gep’s crack. He uncrossed his legs so that he was sitting on his haunches with his feet on the floor and his ass hovering just above. The long hot cock ran the length of his crack and kissed the back of his tight, hairless scrotum. Kiga began a gentle thrusting motion. The man’s pubic hair tickled his ass. Kiga’s cock must have been drooling because Gep could feel his taint becoming wet and slippery. By the time the bottle made it all the way back to Akota’s father, everyone had removed their cloths. Little Kala had fallen asleep sometime before and his father laid him off to the side away from the hearth as he finished the last of the liquor. Betsu’s uncle had backed away from the hearth a bit and had Betsu’s head in his lap. The sound of slurping broke the silence. Then his uncle beckoned Pecha’s friends, Roke and Mika, to either side of him and guided Betsu hands to each of the boy’s cocks. Betsu didn’t pause his rhythmic bobbing for an instant. His pale bony back flickered in the dying firelight. His painfully thin arms were stretched to their full length as he masturbated the older boys. His left hand performed a deft twisting motion on Roké’s hooked phimotic cock while his right hand made the short furtive vibrations that suited Mika’s short inflexible foreskin. Gep could not help but be impressed with Betsu’s natural talent at pleasuring men. Gep watched sweet Palo crawl behind Akota’s grandfather and begin massaging the old man’s bony shoulders. The teen nuzzled his balding head as he wrapped his long willowy arms around him in a tender embrace. After a moment he began kneading and massaging the old man’s spine with one hand while the other undid the laces on his loincloth and fished out his semi-erect cock. Akota’s grandfather had tears in his eyes as he turned to kiss and nuzzle Palo’s neck and the sharp flare of his jawline. Gep was filled with emotion. Then he got a light kick and turned to see Pecha and Toma getting into position to 69 next to them. This surprised him. Although the boys called each other `friend,’ anyone could see that they didn’t really get along. Maybe Pecha felt he had to take care of his invited guest, and spare anyone else from having to endure Toma’s stink. The boys were positioned so that Pecha was on bottom with his head towards the fire. This saved Toma from having Pecha’s prodigious ballsac covering his face and smothering him like it had Gep earlier that day. Toma crawled on top, his thick pale body glowing in the darkness. He straddled Pecha’s head and lower his erect cock to it, spreading his butt cheeks open. Gep saw his light pink asshole winking out from the nest of black hair, a very different color from the darker brown assholes of most islanders, and for a moment was struck by how pretty it looked. Then a wave of sharp musk hit his nose nearly forcing him to turn away. Gep saw the grimace on Pecha’s face as Toma’s cock plunged towards his mouth. The thick filmy precum whose taste Gep would never forget was glinting at the opening of Toma’s foreskin. Pecha reached a hand up to keep Toma’s stinky balls off his face as Toma rudely crammed his cock down Pecha’s throat. The smell must have terrible for Pecha. Even where Gep was sitting it was bad. He watched as Pecha used his grip on Toma’s balls to try and prevent mardin escort the rude boy from choking him with his thrusts. Toma was humping wildly. The muscles in his pale, hairy legs were twitching. Pecha’s handsome face was locked in a painful wince. Gep felt sorry for him, and yet, some part of him wanted to be the one stuck under Toma. Something about that sour smell and the bitter slime that oozed from Toma’s veiny cock burned in his brain. Turning back to the fire overwhelmed, Gep searched for Akota. He felt dizzy and confused. His friend’s face was missing in the dwindling firelight. Then he picked out the priest Goro. But in his arms where Akota had been, Goro was hugging a monstrous headless creature with long wild limbs. Gep jumped backwards, crashing his shaggy head into Kiga’s chin. Only then did he realize that he was seeing his friend turned around and upside down. His chest was now his back, his arms were now his legs, and his butt was spread open in front of Kiga’s face. Kiga had taken Akota in his big strong arms, flipped the boy and brought him down, face first, onto his cock. Now while holding the boy firmly in place, he was scraping the remnants from the laid by porridge bowl and smearing them onto Akota’s smooth pink asshole, then licking it clean. Gep was shocked. He had never seen someone lick an asshole. Well, perhaps accidentally when caught up in sex play, but never like this. Kiga was not able to scrape much leftover porridge from the bowl, and yet he was munching and slurping and licking Akota’s ass like a pig at a trough. Akota made muffled moans into Kiga’s crotch. The priest’s cock must not be very big, otherwise his friend would be choking. Gep looked away embarrassed, suddenly very aware of Goro’s cock gliding along his crack, eased along by a trail of precum and his own sweat. Kiga took some boar grease and smeared it over Gep’s cock. As he continued his thrusts along Gep’s taint, he began pulling and teasing his hard little cock. He pinched and twisted the foreskin and even tried to skin it back for a moment before giving up and returning to the stroking motion. Gep moaned between his bucked teeth. Looking to the head of the tent, he saw Simal kneeling before his father sucking the big man’s dick. His father tenderly stroked his head and stood hunched and still while Simal bobbed on the thick cock and kneaded his balls with his hand. Gep watched as the two made eye contact and saw the look of forgiveness on the father’s face. Simal’s face was harder to read, but he seemed to be doing everything he could to give his father pleasure and pull another load of seed from his balls: the same seed that had given Simal and his three brother’s life, the same seed that Simal had eaten many times since he was a little boy. Despite the fact that the man had already cum twice that day, Simal knew exactly how to bring him off quickly and soon his father’s thick brown penis was pulsing between the his greasy lips. Gep looked back to see the Betsu’s uncle bucking into his nephew’s face. He couldn’t see Betsu’s face but he heard the pop as he released the cock from his suction. Mika announced that he was close. The words sounded strange amid the slurps and groans. Bestu moved to the blunt, greasy cock, wrapping his mouth around the whole thing and steadying himself with one bony arm clinging to Mika’s fleshy buttock while the other hand fished the teen’s nuts down from the tightened sac where they had withdrawn and gave them a sharp tug. This might have hurt other boys but somehow Betsu knew that this was what Mika needed. He shouted an incoherent moan into the darkening room as his body twitched and flinched as least twelve times. Gep felt a twinge of jealousy that Betsu was probably going to coax more cum from three cocks than he had received from five earlier that day. Betsu released Mika, casting him back into a crumpled heap like some kind of fairy tale wizard then turned to Roke. Roke’s foreskin nozzle stuck out from the underside of his cock, unable to open wide enough for anything but cum and piss. His big teen cock strained against the encasement, stretching the dusky skin shiny. Roke avoided letting other boys masturbate him because few could do it without it hurting. But Betsu had managed to do it expertly, left-handed and while jerking another boy and sucking off his uncle. Now Betsu brought the strange cock into his mouth, teasing the weeping foreskin nozzle gently with his cum-soaked tongue. He made the same twisting motion with his head that he had done with his little hand. In a few seconds, Roke was cumming. Perhaps aware that the entire room had stopped to watch, Betsu pulled off Roke’s cock and positioned his open mouth under the foreskin nozzle. A fierce stream of cum gushed out. Betsu caught it all. Grasping Roké’s thick dick at the base and milking up, he coaxed seed from his shaft and squeezed cum and smegma out of the foreskin casing. Then he tried to worm his little tongue into the nozzle to get at the slime that perpetually bathed Roke’s tender hidden cockhead, but the his cock had become sensitive and Roke pulled it away. Suddenly, Kiga stuck his hands in Gep’s armpits and lifted him up off his lap. Then he laid him on the ground in front of him. Gep dutifully opened his mouth as the man brought his dark purple cockhead to his lips. His face was kind but serious. Gep knew that it was important not to spill any of the his seed. He wrapped his tender pink lips over his big front teeth and sucked onto the cockhead like a teat. The heat of it was startling. Then Kiga squirted five shots of thick seed into Gep’s mouth. This was priest’s seed. It was probably very powerful. Gep made sure to swirl it around in his mouth before swallowing. It was thicker and more bitter than the teen boy cum he had swallowed earlier. He wished he could compare it directly to Toma’s pungent seed, but that load had been floating on top of a pool of cum already in his mouth. He had never tasted Toma’s cum alone. Suddenly he wanted to. He thought of all of the loads he’d swallowed in the past few hours. His stomach gurgled. Kiga helped him sit up. He looked across the fire to see Akota in a similar position lying on the ground. The other priest, Goro, was squatting over his head, squirting into his upturned mouth. Gep glanced at his friend’s butt and saw it glistening with greasy spit. He had many questions to ask Akota later. Pecha and Toma rejoined the circle, both with slimy mouths and slimy cocks. “Well brother,” Akota’s uncle said, clapping Betsu on the back, “I think this boy is priest material.” “He is very gifted,” Kiga observed. “I think he will be fine. The hair and the muscle will come if he continues to drink seed. He clearly has a passion for it.” “I don’t think the gods would give a boy such talents if he were not intended to serve them,” said Goro. “He can join the next ceremony.” Betsu beamed. Gep looked for Akota to read his reaction but the boy was in a red faced stupor. The liquor and the extended period upside-down had gone to his head. Gep wondered what becoming a priest involved. He had seen the public ceremony, but he knew that many more things happened in private. Did they lick each other’s asses? Did they fuck each other’s asses? He had heard rumors but did not know what to believe. The men and boys fell asleep in a tangle around the hearth as the fire burned down to ash. As he was about to drift off he felt a body crawl next to his and an familiar stink fill his nostrils. A thick rough hand patted his belly. “You got a lot of splooge in your gut today, didn’t you Frog? But mine’s the one that’s gonna put hair on that twat of yours. And we’re gonna keep trying till it does.” Toma’s fleshy arm wrapped around him. Pulling him into a hot, suffocating embrace. He lay awake in fear and disgust, his little cock as hard as a rock.

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