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    EVEN-MORE-LOVE-BOYS-3                     "Of Indian Rutting"
    {Part #3 of 9}                            Copyright 1996 by Vince Water
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                              "Of Indian Rutting"

            | An entry in a tradesman's diary, this account is    |
            | undated, likely coming from the late 1700's. Henry  |
            | gives his first-hand account of the Eastern Indians |
            | with whom he traded with.                           |

       It's hard to believe what my eyes have seen. That "noble savage" often
    portraid by them romantics back in New England know not of their baser
    nature: the craving animal in redman skin let loose for base pleasure and
    lusty need. I speak of the Seneca heathen male.

       Said Indians have no morals, laws, or even a sense of shame. My eyes
    have seen their rutting places in the woods not far from their tribal
    camp. Young men and old don only breechclouts of meager flaps when
    scurrying to this place. Weapons are left behind and are taboo there.
    Neither women nor girls venture there though young boys often peek through
    the trees. As they mature, they'll also partake of the manly pleasures
    founded there.

       I came to learn of their practiced abominations from my trades with
    these savages. I took their fine animal skins in exchange for my shiny
    English goods: glass beads, copper pots and metal knives.

       Their spoken language is chaotic. Hand signs between us do well enough
    for what my mouth cannot explain. After a "few moons" of visits and
    travels through their green lands, I was asked by one good looking brave
    to accompany him to some Indian rite. This I had done from curiosity.

       My cotton shirt was asked be removed while my hand arms kept safe at
    the chief's lodge. Shoes too were siezed from me and placed with my other
    personals. I was left with only my jerkens. My companion wore less. Bare
    assed, the young brave eagerly led me to the mens' "hunting grounds" in
    the woods.

       Curious boys followed behind us. In summer, no lad under the age of ten
    wore even a small flap of hide to cover their sun darkened bodies. Older
    boys wore front and rear cloths while the warriors displayed war shirts and
    fancy elk leggings. The women always went about fully covered.

       I was led through the trees to a series of clearings. Their borders
    were marked for male entry only. Without lodges or other means of privacy
    ensured, I saw half-naked men laying with each other. It was a shock to
    witness acts that bespoke so openly of animal lust.

       Without breechclouts, war shirts, leggings or even head feathers and
    face paint, a proud warrior couldn't be separated from the simpler brave.
    All were equals here.

       Some men copulated. Many naked forms spread out on the soft grass under
    the sun. I had only to gaze in any direction to witness male loins in
    another male. No act was too debased for these savage men to perform or
    kept from sight.

       Hands pulled over each other's swollen manhood to wet the ground for
    only pleasure. I saw one young man consume seed from several of his
    heathen brothers, one right after the other! He kneeled before a man and
    took his need in mouth. Like pulling on a cow tit, the young man pulled
    over his companion's buttocks until the groaning men fed him.

       Not all Indians went entirely naked. Many kept on rear flaps, though
    scanty and not hiding much. Such coverings kept that part of their bodies
    unmolested from other men. Only their fronts remained uncovered; that part
    of them seeking relief in other men.

       The few men who were reversed in disposition of nakedness marked them
    for penetration. Butts fully displayed while their penises kept hidden
    under long flaps. I learned of their unusual nature and what pleasures
    that meant for the others.

       One of these, my young bare-assed companion, crouched on his knees to
    present himself to passing men. When taken up on the offer, a savage would
    mount him dog-like with his erection fitting tightly into the butt's
    entrance. Fierce bucking followed. The man's groans bespoke of the anal
    pleasure being achieved. It wasn't uncommon for me to witness successive
    mountings upon this handsome young brave. His butt hole took in much seed
    and was the more popular rutting act of the place.

       Boys too were sometimes honored to be brought there. Like myself, the
    youths simply watched while bolder ones partook of the lesser beastly
    acts. I recall a boy of twelve standing beside the brutal mounting of a
    man's ass. His hand slapped over the giver's butt as if directing that
    man's frantic pace of penetration. Soon after that man was spent, the
    youth kneeled behind to suck out the warm sperm, directly from the man's
    hole having just taken it!

       Youths presented their erected poles to be pulled on or have sucked out
    their clear boyish seed. One Indian boy of eight enjoyed having the men
    offer him countless spermless thrills. I suppose the very young don't tire
    from it.

       I once watched a bare-assed man try coaxing a boy into him. The youth
    didn't seem much interested in the act yet accepted the invitation when
    forceably sat on. Laid over the ground on his back, the youth was ridden
    by the squating man above him. Others came to watch the fine spectacle and
    hoot. It seemed to last a long while with sharp cries coming from the boy.
    Pain? or the obscene pleasure of his forced release. Who was the one being
    raped here?

       Never have I seen a boy receive a man. Even the youngest savage
    realizes the disproportionate connection of their sex. I've heard of war
    time rapes committed upon unfortunate youths. No boy spoke of liking it.

       With falling of the sun, the soft grass and shades under the trees
    would empty of Indian men. The more lustful and needing savages retired to
    a companion's tipi. The night became as active as their filled day.

       Boys were given sexual instruction in tipi subclussion as I'm told.
    Either from an older brother or his uncle. Few boys could claim virginity
    after their eleventh year.

       Fatherless boys could be found in certain warrior's tipis, especially
    those men with no lust for a squaw's service. The relationships wasn't
    that of a father to adopted son but as boy-lovers. It's said such men took
    only to boys. No women, men or even girls could interest them.

       As for myself, I often had to refuse a heathen's manly offering. My
    white skin set me apart. The curious savages wanted to partake of my
    foreign "medicine" with any act that would surrender it up to him. None
    succeeded. Yet, there was this one boy.

       He was of such unsurpassing beauty. More so than any girl of similar
    age. Thirteen summers old with black hair of length from his childhood.
    His skin was sun-kissed and his body well muscled from a savage upbringing.

       The youth had sneaked into my tipi one early morning to lay with me.
    His magical hands managed off my pants to that he eagerly sought. My
    excitement was readily seen and for him. I allowed the boy what no heathen
    before him could coax forth.

       Our naked embracings were a might better than my hand at need. The
    boy's lips surrounded my awakening and he didn't cease his efforts until
    that hungry mouth was fed. I saw such wicked eyes in him afterwards like
    that of a panther unto its fallen prey! So taken was I by the boy's charm
    that no pleasure was denied him.

       The youth spurned my offered mouth but rolled me over the sleeping mat
    instead. His need took him to exploring my rolling hills. He prepared the
    way with much spittle and fingering. I felt very much the virgin on her
    nuptial eve.

       Laid over me, I felt the boy's quick stabs like a pocket knife through
    my innards. I was fortunate that he was but a youngin' with an appropriate
    size.

       I felt no less a man from it. The boy gave me his all with only a bit
    of pain. He struggled hard at it for a long spell. I think he twice spent
    himself in me for that was what I had counted of his high-pitched cries.
    My butt was sure sore after that.

       Our morning together had been long and blistful. The youth offered
    himself to me in ways that weren't threatening as with his older kindred.
    We gave and took from each other such pleasures that seemed binding unto
    me. Yet approached the afternoon, I saw his departure and of him no more.

       I sought the savage's rutting places after that and readily partook as
    any redman there. The boy was the reason for it. He opened my heart and
    need to it.

       Much have I learned of the natural man. In the Seneca camps, a male's
    needs weren't abmonished as in the restricted confines of our Christian
    doctrine. Indian loins were for pleasuring and often flowed to each other.
    They had a variety of male rites to accomplish this. Their taboos only
    concerned putting seed into an unpurchased bride. A man was put to death
    for that.

       Years have passed since these memories are put to paper. The heathens
    have been pushed deeper into the forests. Forts defend our new towns. Yet
    I envision that somewhere there's a rising sun to warm the sacred places
    of Indian rutting.

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       {end of file: EVEN-MORE-LOVE-BOYS-3    The stories continue: -4}