YOUNG MISSIONARIES by Aihu Fist
-You! Hey You! Yes, the both of you, I shouted.
It was getting dark when in my village I noticed two young men dressed like some goddamn school teachers. They were too young in my opinion to be school teachers and what were they doing here anyway, in the middle of nowhere?
My people were getting ready to go to bed and they knocked on doors. Nobody in his right mind would open up for anyone at this time of the night.
I was the village vigilante, a job I inherited from my dad and he from his dad. I was good at it. spear in my hand, big all colored and braided. A huge boar bone through nose septum. Bracelets of ivory and panther fangs piercing my ear lobes. But the thing I was most proud of was the huge pointy gourd that pointed to the gods in the sky. It housed my Pride until I would feed the vultures with it, until my soul left my body for another one, as we all believe.
The boys turned around. They were white like ghosts. They had come before, very early in the morning on a noisy metal horse. Not the same ones, those were older and ugly. The women folk threw stones at them, one got hit on the leg and the other on the back. we never saw them again. They were lucky to escape alive, for we do not allow anyone to intrude our space.
Those two were really young and on foot, which was very brave of them to say the least. where was their metal horse, how come we had not heard the roaring of it? They spoke back in a very strange language.
-Yes, sir? one said.
I spoke my ancestor's tongue which they did not seem to understand either. They were from a very different world. They hid their body in strange cloth and only the colors of the ghosts and death. I saw no gourd pointing to the gods. Around their necks they had a kind of rope which was very dark like death. It seemed to strangle them, maybe they were death's prisoners. Were they bringing death to the people I protected? The only thing which was coloured was their eyes. One had the colour of the ocean and the other of the lunch green of our forest. I stomped my spear's butt twice on the ground and snorted.
-Come here!
They looked at each other as if they were scared or something. Then in trepidation they trudged toward me. I gasped when I stood face to face with them. The eyes sparked off like the sparkling stones we collect from the rivers. The hair was as light and soft as our fowl's feathers. The mouth was bursting with blood and looked like the red pebbles my people had collected from our neighbors, who were masters in making them shine. Oh, they were young...maybe sixteen summers. I touched their faces with my callused hands. They were not at ease with me, i could see that. Like an elephant that is just caught and does not like someone caressing his long and sensitive trunk. The skin was soft like that of a woman's. With my fingers I touched the girlish chin and walked them all around the lips, the ears. No decorations or piercing. Just plain boy faces. Unlike our boys they were not tattooed, or pierced anywhere. But they were sensitive all right. As I pulled at the ear lobes or pinched a nostril, the winced like a child. The boys exchanged glances of fear and mistrust of me. However, how could I be sure they were boys? I walked around them, observed them. The strange black cloth that covered their legs, the white cloth that covered all of their body up to the neck. how could they live in that? I decided to check it out. I dropped my spear against the wall of the shelter from where I had shouted at them. Grabbed the two ropes around the necks and pulled them inside the council house. Like two captured animals I led them to the centre of the dwelling. The sun had set and my novice had made a fire inside. Because at night we feel quite cold here. The boys began to speak, it did not make any sense to me as they spoke against each other, then to me, and then at the same time. So I told them to shut up, and they did. THEY WERE DESPERATE.
My young novice sat cross legged by the fire, mouth agape, watching my every move with the strangers. I took my big knife with which I had killed so many man eaters and sliced the ropes from their throats. I am helping you, I just got rid of the death that seemed to strangle you.
They were bewildered with my actions. Their eyes popped out of their sockets when I came near their throats with the knife. What did they think? That I was going to cut their heads off?
My grandfathers used to do that, we do not anymore, we live peacefully with our neighbors. We trade in boys with them, for we have too many women. women wine and do not hunt or fight. Our neighbors have too many men and not enough women, so we have a good deal going between them and us. So what are these creatures, white and blue eyed? I could see they were young, no breasts, no prides either? They looked strong though, but not manly enough like ours. Their teeth were not sharpened.I pulled at the long fabric that covered the arms, and tore the rest out of the black cloth above their hips.
"Off...all of it. Off, I said, now!" I ordered.
Again they exchanged glances and moved their heads up and down and then they both used their fingers on hard round things that sat in holes in the cloth. They threw the cloth on the ground. Another cloth hid their chest, but showed the arms to the shoulders. I lifted one arm and saw sun colored hair. His friend's had the colour like the hair on his head. The fire lit up some hairs above their lips and around the chin. It was very flimsy though.
"Off, I barked again, all off!" I had enough of the waiting.
Quickly that cloth lay on top of the others they had taken off. I pinched the skin and one said ouch. No girl tits, jut tiny little pink eyes. Interesting. I walked circles around both and touched their backsides. Stroking them lovingly. They were rounded and soft. They tried to pull them in or avoid my hand.
"No, do not," I said
Instantly they froze and looked down at the fire and my novice, who seemed to be enjoying my inspection of the strangers. He was only nine winters, that pupil of mine, but his boyhood stood erect, glowing with fire from within. One of the stranger's had a softer bum than the other. I had the impression they were starting to like my attention there, as the muscles responded to every touch, especially when I let my hand wander lower and between the legs.
"OFF," I shouted. I needed to shout, make them fear me. They must obey me. By now they surely should have understood my order of `off'.
They had a black strong rope they undid in the front. The thing had a pin and it shone. Never I had I seen such a material. Both strangers dropped the cloth to their ankles and just as with the chest cloth they were wearing another cloth underneath. What strange creatures they were.
"OFF," and I pointed at the white big cloth that hid their pride and backsides.
They hesitated, the facial skin turned pink like the nipples. They closed their eyes and mumbled something.
"OFF, NOW," I insisted.
Finally the ugly cloth came down and dropped on their feet. May our gods be praised, for they were truly boys! Ye gods, how many women could they fertilize in our village? One boy's pride was as long as my hand and the other looked like an elephant's trunk, thick and heavy but short. And they were only hanging, not pointing at the gods and give thanks to them for being so gifted!
I shouted it out, I danced, I jumped with joy, I celebrated the gods kindness to have sent us these boys. my novice followed me and together we hopped and hissed, stuck our tongues out to defy the demons who were surely jealous and would try to take them away from us. Occasionally I stood still and let my hands, my fingers, taste those fine backsides. I urged my novice to do the same, he had to learn so much from me.
I leapt and flitted around those two harmless strangers, I crawled through their legs and lay on my back looking at the prides and all the rest they had hanging.
Both my hands got hold of two prides. I wanted them to say thanks to the gods for being so well shaped. How would they look pointing at our fathers?
Why were these boys so shy, batting their eyelids, not looking at me or my novice when we played with them. Fleshy statues, not moving an inch. Ah but now something started to move. The flesh that covered their prides' heads began to roll back and I began to milk them at a steady pace. They began to grow in size and girth. Oh gods, they had lots of milk in those eggs, I was sure about that. Why were theirs so big, though?
I needed bigger sized gourds for them, to protect their prides against evil. My novice had taken the initiative to lick the backsides while I continued my vigilante's task of chastising the evil spirits they might have brought with them, to leave their bodies.
I called the novice back to come and watch me for the next treatment of the strangers.
Sit on your knees, I ordered and do what I do. My little one blinked with his eyes which meant I understand. I sat on my knees in front of the red-haired boy and brought his pride head to my mouth. I was going to swallow his pride and earn some tokens from the Gods, who surely had sent those boys to reward me for my work during uncountable winters and summers with my novices.
"Look, Papaoutai," open your mouth wide and swallow the gift of our gods. Don't allow it to leave your mouth, just suck as hard as you can, until you received the gods' reward.
"What is the reward, Suislechef?"
"The gods have surprises, you must learn how not to questions what they give," I said.
Papaoutai blinked twice, which meant I understand and I obey.
One of the strangers thought that by keeping their eyes closed they were not involved and that they were not sinning against Jahweh. Those savages would go to hell, surely. What an evil and savage thing to do. What was this? Were they being molested or was the boy being molested by them? Was this gay, were they now sodomites? How could they not be? The devil had taken possession of their cocks, they were hard, no denying in that! If they ran, they would be killed, surely! What now. Nothing, they would have to let go. Maybe it was god's will and part of the evangelising of these peoples. They were martyrs and victims of oversexed people. Let's gain their trust and then once they done this we can stay here and begin to translate the Bible and spread the word.
Both prides were now bobbing in and out an adult and a child's mouth. They remained hard, which meant that the strangers were enjoying the sensations. They began to lose control over the situation, they thought, as if they had had control to begin with. The stranger being smoked by the Suislechef had difficulties keeping his body in place. His feet wanted to move, his ass wanted to buck, his cock answered each and every suck and lick he got with a strong upward and forward movement. Now he felt he wanted to moan or grunt like an animal. He fought hard against it. But this was unbearable. His friend began to feel the same, even though he was fucking a child's mouth. He only got harder and bolder, and he was the one who undeniably responded verbally. Did he hear his mate moan?
"Yes, more," in a huff and a whisper...That is what he understood.
It could not be, Josh would never say those things: he was a good Christian, his father a dedicated preacher.
"Oooooh, oh, mmmmm, yyyyee..."
"Josh, please, don't say this, control yourself," Josh heard.
Suislechef ignored their babbling, he was going to get the sacred liquid from the gods gift. Maybe chewing would warm up his kid. Why, his novice was quite lucky to have this stranger make such erotic sounds. The sounds you make when you lay on top of a bitch on heat. Or maybe, Papaoutai was a natural and knew better then the teacher.
"Ahhh, mmmphfff..."
Now at last, he seemed to respond to a bit of violence, Suislechef thought. Maybe he needs this to start talking. A lttile more chewing and the boy squirmed, writhed like a worm in a flame.
"You are one of those, aren't you?" Suislechef asked without waiting for an answer.
The latter passed his hands to the boy's backside and clawed in the flesh.
"You like panther nails, don't you?"
My nails dug deep into the pores and the missionary screamed like a cat on on a hot tin roof.
"Good. At last."
Suck and chewing is what the missionary had to endure. He was going to cheat on Papaoutai. He wanted this boy to moan like the other. So he planted a finger between the buns and find the hole that would make him cry or beg to stop. The finger ground to a halt just across the threshold and began to drill it with steady speed.
"Ooooooh dear, on, please, please...sshhhh, ugh"
"For god's sake, Peter, enjoy this instead of fighting it. You just told me off and now you are moaning like a cheap Utah whore."
"Oh, shut up Peter,....oouch, ohwwwiee, goddddddd."
"MMmmmmmmmmyeah, godalmighty, boy, you can't have anymore....."
They were tuning in and magic was all about because of it. It sounded like singing and moaning combined, and both Papaoutai and Suislechef enjoyed it. The slurping and sucking got drowned out by the victim's utterances. Then, the finger went deeper as did the prides in their mouths. Papaoutai, felt something he did not recognize but continued blowing the youth as he was told never to take his mouth off the Pride. Josh just unleashed, bucking wildly like a stallion holding the boy's head steady. By then Suislechef had already managed to insert four fingers, and in the course, had nearly chewed off the Pride's head to which Peter started yelping so much which in turn excited the man's appetite for more of this. Finally, the missionary shuddered like a volcano in eruption, slamming his balls agains the man's chin and shot all he had. He jerked his head back and fucked some more. The divine seed was not to be spilt. Each and every drop was cherished and savored. The little boy had drunk his potion with devotion and religious zeal, as he was told. The youngsters kept their eyes closed and slowly came to their senses. Man and boy looked content and congratulated each other.
"Well done teacher".
"Well done pupil."
Both got on their feet and ambled around smirking, observing the young missionaries. The young boy's little Pride stood high and hard as a rock. His teacher's was the same but still cached in the adult gourd. The youths had given all but not received a token of thanks from them. Surely, the gods were waiting for that...a return of appreciation was logical, was it not? Papaoutai, looked at the clothes on the ground. They represented entities that were not wanted in his village and this world. Death and ghosts had not place in this home.
"Pick that up, boy," he told the boy, and throw them in the fire.
The flames eagerly consumed this strange fuel, higher and higher they went, sending heat to the four bodies. The missionaries had not once dared to look again. They had no idea their clothes had vanished into nothing, that they had turned into ashes...Suislechef felt them up; he loved those ass cheeks, he really did. The novice mimicked each an every caress the thirty something did.
"Like this, he said," and he grabbed the boy's little hand and pushed it between Josh's double faced moon.
"Keep your hand there and find his sacred entrance. Maybe you can get all of your fingers in there, but try one finger first."
Josh began wiggling his ass, it felt nice but he did not want to admit it. The boy's hand was just at the right height to be able to penetrate his virgin hole. Luckily the boy's fingernails were clipped. Peter however was not fortunate to be the young man's piece of choice. Suislechef had big fat fingers and his dick wanted to give them an extra hand....haha. He managed to coax the missionary to the centre pole from which all the beams departed that supported the thatched roof. He opened his eyes to see where he was walking...The centre mast which was probably about one three meters in girth had ropes made of hemp attached to it. They hung one meter from the floor. The man tied Josh to it with the rope going round his middle. There was enough rope left to tie the evangelist's hands behind his back.
Papaoutai had his eyes on the scene and his fingers in Josh's hole. Josh underwent it without fighting back. I think he was won over for this kind of sex. Why did they never do that at home with dad or his brother Tim?
He whispered; "Peter...Peter..."
No answer came back. Where was he? He opened one eye and saw two asses gleaming with light from the fire. Oh, dear god. What was going to happen to his friend. hang in there brother, for these savages do not know what they are doing.
Suislechef undid his gourd which was about forty centimeters long. From underneath appeared a pitch-black pride oozing with sacred semen.
From a fat pouch that hung from his snake skin belt he dug up a was of slime stuff which he buried in Peter's anus. The finger went round and round. The Pride thing was pink inside and was ready for its mission. he brought the gourd to the youth's lips and parted his lips with it.
The tribal lube began to send strange vibes up to his innards, which made Peter bite into the gourd that looked like a horn.
"That's good, boy, very good, but if you had sharpened teeth, you would leave your marks on it."
The more marks one had on one's gourd the higher the prestige in the tribe. Suislechef prided himself in hundreds of marks on it. he was known as the novice eater.
These boys maybe bigger than my young novice, Papaoutai, but I know they have not gone through the rituals he has gone through. The baby skin, with no tattoos, the white milky teeth of toddlers, hair around their pride, the hair in the sacred opening, the tuft of hairs above the lip...where should we begin to initiate them and make them full fledged members of our tribe? The best thing I could do, Suislechef thought, was a crash course, make them ready for battle, ritual female and male rape of the other tribes' best specimen.
Kissing was not part of the village curriculum for the Oriots. That privilege was reserved for the women and children. Paying the gods back was on his mind now. As he thought about how to shape those white strangers he tried to focus on what he was about to do. He brought the snout of his pride close to the crack. Peter had a battle on his hand with contractions in his ass and stomach. He had never felt this before and succumbed to them.
"Bite it," he said and pushed the gourd deeper into his throat.
The cock head found its way on the slimy path. it was an enjoyable and smooth ride, like fucking fudge.
You are a fruitcake, Peter, Josh thought. Papaoutai slapped him on the butt and hushed him up. The fingers just continued to rummage and play with the sphincter. He saw his teacher's ass' muscles twitch. he had a great backside, when he grew up he wanted the same. As his teacher slid in and out of Peter's anus, so did the boy's fingers, until Josh fell over and ended on all fours.
Teacher had heard that, looked over his shoulders and said; "Go on take him like I do."
The young boy had not enough dick to get far inside, it was nothing more than a joyride to the doorstep. But Josh enjoyed it and to an extent so did Peter, who was moaning louder and louder. The hairy ass of the man into the hairless bottom of the stranger. the monotonous slapping of balls against butt, the occasional gasps and huffs from Josh was finally paying off, when Peter had nailed his teeth into the gourd to the point the did not let go off it anymore. it was the moment that he got stabbed deeper and deeper and that teacher's Pride was so swollen and squeezed the life out of it that the semen had to rush and warp itself out and sacrifice themselves to the Gods.
"This isssss itttt," Suislechef spoke through clenched teeth.
Bucking back and forth, straining his thighs and abdomen, he gave all he got.
Josh witnessed all of it and he would never look at Peter the way he had done before. He realised, though, that he would be on the receiving end too.
Please donate to Nifty.org