The sun was going down as the ceremony in the Shewan longhouse deep in the Mohawk Valley began. It was announced with the beating of drums that required all woman and children of the tribe to leave the village clearing in the flattened hillock accessible by a secret cliffside trail and gather at the life-giving stream below to sing praises to the gods until they heard the end to the drum beats.

All was as prescribed by the chieftain, Nadie, as given on his deathbed following the previous spring's battle with the Huron. He had counseled that the Shewan were to retreat to a minor role in Iroquois affairs, subordinating themselves to the other tribes when they normally would take a lead in matters of warfare, until they had regained their strength and power, and, most important, the blessings of the gods that they had forfeited by losing to the Huron.

As he had neared death, Nadie told his warriors to look for a sign from the gods - a being with fire coming out of his head who possessed power and would transfer power to warriors who were worthy through ritual congress. In his dying breaths, he had related in detail the requirements of the ceremony.

When assurances were given that all of the woman and children had departed the village circle, the torches were lit in the longhouse of the chieftain.

The flaming-haired Rob Winston was led, a willing participant, into one end of the longhouse. He was nude except for a tight, strong leather belt around his belly of the brightest crimson that had dyed-red feathers and strong rings of gold attached to the belt at the side of his waist, fine red-dyed moccasins, and thick, red-dyed leather bands at his wrists, also with rings of gold attached to them.

He stumbled into the tent and would have fallen if he had not been supported by two young, strong, muscular braves who were helping him to walk. These braves were costumed in the identical minimal dress Winston had, except that they both also had long, sharp hunting knives in sheaths tied to their thighs by leather straps.

Winston had spent much of the afternoon drinking ceremonial cups of a potion that largely consisted of alcohol and herbs from the forest collected for their propensity to numb and block pain. The day before he had been plied with purgatives that emptied and purified his internal systems and had his channel packed with concoctions of the numbing potions that had been withdrawn mere hours before the ceremony.

Winston and his escorts approached the center of the longhouse, where an altar had been placed and covered with a blanket made of laced-together red fox pelts.

All of the adult men of the tribe were gathered in a circle around the altar, At the outer edge of the circle were the elders and the older unselected warriors, dressed in their usual leather breeches and jerkins. The only difference in their dress on this special ceremonial day from any other day was their long, black hair. Whereas a Shewan tribesman's hair customarily was tied back in a ponytail, with a feather in the band, now every man's hair was hanging loose below his shoulders. The torches lighting the ceremony were lodged in the ground behind this outer circle of men, which included much the greater number of the men of the tribe. At the four geographic points of this circle sat a set of two drummers each, maintaining a steady, slow beat to mark the duration of the ceremony.

Inside the greater circle of older tribesmen were twelve of the youngest, most fit brave candidates of the tribe, young men who had achieved their manhood only since the defeat at the hands of the Huron in the spring, newly minted men eligible to be fully blooded warriors but not yet initiated.

And standing next to each of ten of these young warriors was an older, fully blooded, peak-condition warrior. When Winston's two escorts had led him to the altar and lifted him on top, they went to take their places next to the remaining two novitiates.

The twelve most worthy warriors, identically attired to Winston save for the sheathed knives, were the twelve selected to carry out Otetiani's plan to aid Colonel Hampton - and not only to aid the plans of Colonel Hampton as promised but also to return the Shewan to the full favor of the gods of war.

Standing at the base of the altar, facing it, standing taller than any other, legs spread wide, looking stern and magnificent, was the subchieftain Otetiani, the tribe's war leader. Attired like the twelve of the chosen, he stood with arms crossed and leather hand whips, with multiple leads, dyed crimson red, held tightly in each fist.

At a signal from Otetiani, the two warriors who had escorted Winston into the longhouse vaulted gracefully onto the altar. They raised Rob to a standing position and moved him to the center of the altar. On either side of the altar here, strong tree-trunk poles rose from the ground up to the top of the barrel-roofed longhouse, serving as part of the frame of the structure. Each of these poles had a chain wrapped around it at the height of Winston's shoulders. The warrior on each side of Winston attached the end of the chain on each side to the ring in the leather band at his wrist and pulled it taut, so that Rob's arms were stretched out fully to his sides. There were chains lower on the poles that they similarly attached to the rings at the side of his leather belt. Winston now was held in a standing position at the center of the altar with little give of movement in either direction. The two escort warriors hopped back off the altar and took up their station beside their designated novitiate.

At a signal from Otetiani, the drums changed their beat; the warriors began a chant, one that had been prescribed for this phase of the ceremony by the dying chieftain, Nadie; and clouds of incense rose from the fires set under open vents in the sections at either end of the longhouse.

Otetiani opened his arms wide.

Swish. The leather strips of the hand whips lashed out in succession. Winston raised his head in drunken, nearly numb recognition of the start of the purifying scourging. Swish. Swish. Otetiani circled the altar, scourging Rob's flesh, arms, legs, back, belly, chest, buttocks, from each side in light strokes that didn't cut deeply but that cut deeply enough to raise welts and rivulets of blood.

Winston remained stoic throughout. The ceremony had been explained in detail to him. This was all necessary to Otetiani's plan. Winston couldn't be a soldier for the colonel, but there were things he could do, perhaps things that had a greater impact than a single foot soldier could contribute. Rob was determined to do what he could. And he had been prepared well for the ordeal. He would be in great pain later, when the alcohol and drugs wore off than he would be during the ceremony.

The ceremony of the purifying blooding was complete. Upon another signal from Otetiani, the ceremony of the congress, the actual transferring of the power from the gods through the vessel with the flaming head, began.

The two escorts vaulted back up on the altar, released the chains at Winston's side and loosened the chains at his wrists. He was still tied to the altar poles but each chain now had considerable give to it.

One of the warriors jumped down from the altar. The other one remained. The first to receive the power. The twelve chosen warriors, in succession, and, by prescription in different positions, and on the rhythm of the beating of the drums, consummated a congress with the flaming-haired gift of the gods. The first simply went down on his knees behind Winston's crumpled, scoured figure and pulled the young man into his lap and onto his hard cock and fucked him until the warrior's seed had been planted and the power of the war gods had been transmitted back into his body from the channel of the gift. The fucking had somewhat revived Winston, and the second warrior lay flat on his back and made Winston hover over him, feet and hands flat on the altar cloth and slide up and down on the warrior's pole. The third made Winston stand, folded over at the waist, the warrior supporting him with arms locked around his belly, and plowing him from the rear. The next warrior pushed Winston up on his knees and took him like a dog. With Winston collapsed on his belly from this taking, the next merely straddled his hips as he lay there and rode him like a horse, stroking hard between the young man's tightly closed butt cheeks.

The sixth turned him on his back and mimicked the White missionaries. Then he was pulled back up onto his feet and made to stand facing a warrior with a long, curved cock, who raised one of Winston's legs up the line of his torso and thrust up into him in a standing position. He was taken one of the poles with his legs wrapped around a warrior's waist, and the most solid, shortest of the warriors made Winston wrap his legs around his waist and his arms around his neck and he walked up and down the center line of the altar carrying Winston like a young child and thrusting up into him from below. He was side split from both sides and the most acrobatic of the warriors made Winston stand on his hands and held his thighs as he fucked down into his hole, the blood rushing to Winston's head and momentarily making him faint.

With each congress, the powers was passed through Winston to the chosen warrior, and each warrior was smeared in the blood of the gift that had been raised by scourging. At the end of each congress, Winston sank to the ground in gathering exhaustion while the blessed and empowered warrior unsheathed his sharp knife and took two locks of hair from the flaming head. Three of the warriors were especially blessed and, by being so were designated by the gods to be the subleaders of the raid they had been chosen to undertake. This designation came with the three ejaculations of Winston during the ceremony. The warrior rewarded with this sign of the gods' approval while they were in congress with the flaming-haired gift captured what ejaculate they could and smeared it on their cheeks as a special sign of favor.

After each warrior had received the power, he jumped off the altar and went and stood beside his designated novitiate.

When the twelfth had completed his part of the ceremony, Otetiani himself leapt up on the altar. At a signal to Winston's two original escorts, the chains at Winston's arms were pulled taut around the tree-trunk pillar once more, bringing Winston to a staggering standing position.

The drums beat louder as Otetiani bowed in front of Winston and then took the young man's cock in his mouth and just continued giving it suck until Winston had his fourth ejaculation and Otetiani had received the full force of the gods' approving nectar. Then Otetiani stood and moved behind Winston and pulled the young man's suspended body into him. He lifted Winston straight up with hands on his waist, crouched a bit to get under him and lowered Winston on his gigantic, throbbing tool for the transferring of the gods' power. As he did that, the two escorts stepped up to the side of the altar. Each took one of Winston's ankles in his hand and pulled Winston's legs back, around Otetiani's heavily muscled calves. Otetiani held Winston's torso close to his with one palm on his belly and one on his breast and took Winston in long deep glides, the rapidity and depth of the thrusts increasing with the increase in the tempo of the drums.

After Otetiani has spouted forth once, he had the escorts release Winston's ankles and then the chains on his wrists, and Otetiani gently let Winston down on the red fox pelting on his belly, without withdrawing his embedded cock. He covered Winston's body closely and gently rocked on top of him until once more aroused and then he took one last extract of power in a gentle fucking through thighs tightly encased in his own.

While Otetiani was completing the ceremony and taking his lock of the flaming hair, the short, secret segment of the ceremony was performed. Only Otetiani and the twelve chosen warriors had been told of this, concluding part, the initiation of the novitiates. As Otetiani was lowering Winston to the ground for his second taking, he signaled to the twelve, each of whom turned to the designated novitiate beside them, knocked him to ground and overpowered him.

Each blooded warrior then passed on part of the power of the war gods he had acquired by taking the novitiate's virginity by force, but, more important, lifting him up to full warrior status, and, in the end rewarding him with one of the flaming locks of hair they had taken from the gift of the gods. A privilege of this magnitude came only once in several generations. But for many drum beats, the confused, surprised, and initially angry strugglings of the prideful young men, heretofore not told that no warrior in the tribe reached full status with his virginity intact, reached a decibel level that surely could be heard down at the stream, as hard tools relentlessly dug out the last vestige of their innocence. What they were yet to find out was that they would be mastered again and again for the next three nights as part of the chosen warriors strength preparation for their mission.

The drums suddenly stopped. Loud trilling could be heard from the banks of the stream below, and the ceremony was complete.

Winston spent the next three days in a separate longhouse, recovery from the ordeal he had agreed to undertake to serve his struggling revolutionary forces, while Otetiani and his twelve chosen, now anointed and empowered warriors, prepared to go on the warpath - and the twelve newly deflowered initiates recovered from their manning into the tribe.



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