(Edited by qxvw198)
The Tale Of Tadpole Boy: Chapter One
The village was close to the water, but most villages were close to the water. Their front doors were facing the bays and lakes and their backs were sheltered from the wind by forest covered mountains. This village also had many totem poles in front of the houses, but that was normal too. Each family presented their bloodline and family history to visitors by the figures on the poles. Spirits, famous warriors, and stories decorated the poles—acting as both protectors and foundations for society.
One small house, tucked into one of the corners of the village, had a boy living in it. He was not alone, for he had a sister and mother who lived with him. But he felt alone—for his house was empty of furs or copper and was quiet much of the time.
Their totem was a small one, matching the small house, for their family was neither rich nor powerful. Only a Frog symbol was carved into the top of it, for he was of the Frog Clan. In fact his name was Tadpole Boy, having done little to gain a name of his own. It stood in front of the house, near the door, as weather worn and wind beaten as the planks of the house. The pale looking Frog waited, watching all who passed beneath him, as if examining their souls as they entered and exited the house.
Tadpole Boy came out of the warm house one day and sighed. Winter was coming soon and hunting had been bad. Well, to be honest, he was not very good at hunting. Or fishing. Or cutting down trees—they always seemed to fall towards him. After a few near hits he had given up on cutting firewood from the forest and had taken to collecting sticks and driftwood from the beach.
His mother had no brother and, therefore, he had no uncle to teach him these things.
Back in the house his mother and sister huddled close to the small fire. They were hungry and cold and were running out of firewood. They knew that unless Tadpole Boy did something fast they would very likely die during the winter. Because he was such a bad fishermen and hunter, and he had a fear of trees, they assumed they would die.
His father, the only son of another poor family, had died many years ago during a seal hunt. His totem crested canoe had gotten lost in the fog and it was believed, mostly by the older people in the village, that the Land Otter People had taken him. So there was nobody but himself, a untrained 17 year old boy, left to take care of the family, to care for his aging mother and younger sister.
Not that the others in the village did not try to help. The People were willing to help others when they could. But whale hunts only brought back so much meat and only so much wood could be collected during their spare time. They had their own families to think of, after all.
“I must do something,” he said to himself. “But what? The winter is coming and most of the fish and animals are gone. I have nothing to trade for food and oil and the trees try to kill me.”
“Morning!” croaked a voice from his totem pole.
Tadpole Boy turned around with glee. Maybe his totem pole had come to life to help him, to give him knowledge or magic.
On top of his house, very close to the carved Frog image on the top of pole, was a raven.
“Oh no,” said Tadpole Boy, knowing that the raven was in fact THE Raven and could not be trusted.
“Go away Raven.” said the boy with a wave of both hands. “Shoo! I will not be tricked by you.”
“I offer no tricks,” said the Raven as he tilted his head and seemed to smile. “I offer a trade.”
“Trade?” said the Tadpole Boy with a shrug. “I have nothing to trade. No otter furs or seal fat or copper. And even if I did, who would trade with you?”
“Hey!” said the Raven with a hurt expression and a soft voice. “I am insulted! I came in good faith. I truly have something to give you. And you have something to give me.”
Tadpole Boy frowned and thought. He knew that the Raven was a trickster but the lovely voice was getting through to him. Sometimes the Raven could sound harsh and ugly. Other times his voice could sound beautiful and hypnotic.
“What do you have to trade?” the Tadpole Boy said.
“My voice,” said the Raven. “Everybody assumes I am out to trick them. My voice, my lovely voice, has lost its power to persuade. They are so defensive—just like you were.”
“True,” said the boy.
The Raven has had a long and amazing life. He had brought light to the land, plus rivers and lakes. He had give birth to the first humans and had even invented sex. He had also stolen food, made love to other people’s wives, and had caused great harm and pain to many other creatures. He was a great spirit and a great pain in the behind. He was the trickster, the breaker of rules, and, outside of some of the more dangerous monsters, not very trustworthy.
One of the reasons he had gotten away with so many things was his quick wit. The other was that, when he needed to, his voice could sound soft, lovely, and very persuasive to the ear.
“But if you use my voice,” said the Raven, hopping about the top of the house, “you could make people do anything you want. They would give you copper and furs and whale oil and the best cuts from the seals and deer.”
“And what do you get out of it?”
“Oh,” said the Raven with a smooth voice, “you know me. I love food and women. Make the Chief’s daughters my play things. And allow me to share some of the good halibut, and salmon, and berries.”
Tadpole Boy thought it over and over, turning it about in his head. He failed to see anything wrong with the plan. He was a failure in most skills. While his spirit animal, the Frog, was not weak, it had done very little to help him and his family in the past.
“I agree,” said Tadpole Boy. “But how do I gain your lovely voice?”
The Raven laughed and hopped down to the ground next to the human. “That is easy. Bring me a small cup from inside the house.”
Tadpole Boy did was he was told, bringing a cup from inside the house and giving it to the Raven. The Raven took the small wooden cup to the shore and filled it from the sea.
The Raven drained the cup dry. He gargled. Then he spit all of the water back into the cup.
“There,” the spirit said in a harsh, crackling voice, “the voice that sings and dances and paints the air like a feather brush is now in this water. Drink it.”
Tadpole Boy took the cup and made a face. “Drink it?”
“DRINK IT!”
Tadpole Boy drank the water. It tasted awful, and he made a face, but he drained it all.
“Now,” croaked the Raven, “we must test it. Go test it!”
“But what if it does not work,” said the Tadpole Boy aloud. “What if I make a fool of myself?”
“GO TEST IT!” Tadpole Boy nodded and left the shore, heading into the center of the village. He decided the best place to test it would be with the wives and daughters of the Chief. If it was going to work he might as well start at the top!
Tadpole Boy met one of the wives outside the Chief’s large house. She was watching some of the house slaves cleaning a seal skin and did not seem to notice him till he was right next to her.
Omen had been a Princess from the Eagle Clan. A lovely woman, she still seemed noble and proper, even with a touch of white in her hair. Tadpole Boy gulped as she glared at him, no doubt wondering why he was bothering to even show himself in the village. She was dressed in fine woolen robes, for she refused to wear furs till the coldest of winter days, to show her discipline and stamina.
Like the other wives of the Chief and of other members of the village, she had come from another village. One always married outside one’s clan or crest. The Chief, being from the Frog Clan, had married wives from other clans. Being very rich, he had three of them.
The three wives had come with great wealth and great connections. The Chief was proud of his choices. For now he was related to three other great Chiefs almost as powerful as he was.
Like Omen, all of the wives felt themselves superior to almost everybody else in the village; which was, of course, proper and correct.
Tadpole Boy had to overcome years of training and manners to say what he said next.
“Take me inside and let me talk to all of the wives,” he demanded in a soft voice.
Omen nodded and started to walk to the doorway of the house. Even the slaves, who had not heard Tadpole Boy’s command, were somewhat shocked by how passive she seemed. Tadpole Boy himself almost forgot to follow her.
It was working! Tadpole Boy was overjoyed as he entered the Chief’s house, glancing about to see who was present. The other two wives were near the fire, teaching the four daughters about proper manners, cooking and other skills. All of them, like Omen, wore ear and nose ornaments.
The house was, of course, huge. While designed to hold many people, it was also meant to display the Chief’s power and wealth. Cedar boxes full of meat and fat, carefully folded furs and skins as well as piles of weapons and tools all filled alcoves found along the inner walls of the building. Goat wool was waiting to be made into blankets and goat horn was waiting to be carved into spoons and other tools. Tadpole Boy was amazed at how much there was and almost forgot what to do next.
All six looked up and seemed very shocked to see Tadpole Boy following Omen into the house.
“What is HE doing here?” said Mink, the second oldest wife of the Chief.
“Shut up and sit still,” said Tadpole Boy.
Not only did the other two wives and four daughters just sit there, even Omen suddenly sat down, without protest, right on the floor.
Tadpole Boy smiled and shouted up at the smoke hole in the ceiling, “Now Raven, come and take part of your payment!”
Of course, the Raven had been waiting on top of the house, after following the boy to the village. In he flew, changing into a young man. Not a normal young man, no, a man with soft feathers and a beak, but more human than bird.
“Make them obey me,” he croaked as he looked over the four daughters of the Chief.
“Of course,” said Tadpole Boy. He pointed at the young Princesses and said, “Obey the Raven’s every word.”
As the Raven had the Princesses move into one of the alcoves for some privacy, Tadpole Boy could not help but notice the three wives just sitting there. He became excited, for he was a virgin and his thoughts now turned to sex. The noises coming from the dark alcove, the Raven had wasted no time in enjoying his four play things, also added fuel to his lusts.
“You will obey my every word,” he said. Of course, this may seem like over kill as they would have obeyed his words anyway, but he was still new to magic.
Soon he had Omen, Mink, and Robin all undressing. Their shapely mature bodies were not the only things making him pant. They were Chief’s wives, not just fishermen’s wives, and their great status and the wealth they peeled off made it all the more thrilling to him.
He found himself pulling Robin towards him, his manhood hard and throbbing. She was the youngest of the three wives and her face still seemed young.
He found himself trying to push her legs open and realized that she was acting more like a totem pole figure than a real woman.
“Act like a real woman,” he demanded.
Robin screamed, “Help! Rape! Husband!”
“Shut up,” said Tadpole Boy quickly and she did so.
Tadpole Boy thought over his next command carefully and said, “You are horny and want me to fuck you.”
At that point her body became less rigid and more yielding to his touch and desires.
Tadpole Boy found his first time to be a wonderful experience and, of course, his magic made it so Robin found it a wonderful experience as well. In fact, instead of proper and well mannered, he had fun making all of the wives smutty and dirty minded. He started to try out new positions and new ways of saying the commands.
Tadpole Boy found out, for example, that Omen’s mouth was not just good at insults and lashing out at slaves. It was also good at sucking his member till he sprayed his seed all over her face and neck. Tadpole Boy made sure she enjoyed every second.
The Raven was NOT a virgin. In fact, his hundreds of years of sexual knowledge meant that the four daughters were as loud, if not louder, than their mothers.
The house soon became full of moaning, panting, and the sound of moist bodies smacking into each other. Tadpole Boy and the Raven had a grand time. In fact, their orgy lasted a tad too long.
The Chief and his four sons entered the house right when Tadpole Boy was trying to figure out how to have a foursome with the wives.
Even while the Chief and his sons roared, lifted their bone tipped spears and pulled out their shell knives; Tadpole Boy shouted, “Sit down, be silent, and stay still!”
The Chief, his sons, and much to Tadpole Boy’s discomfort, the three wives all sat down, shut up, and became very still. Tadpole boy had to disentangle himself from the wives, a somewhat slow and painful process.
“Be careful with that power,” grumbled the Raven as he too had to untie himself from the four daughters. “You need to be a tad more cunning if you want to become rich and powerful without being killed.”
Tadpole Boy nodded and tried to think up a command that would keep him out of trouble. The Raven got into trouble all the time, but he was narmauk, a spirit being, and could survive anything.
Tadpole Boy walked up to the doorway. Before exiting, he said, “We will leave. You will remember nothing of what has happened here today.”
Tadpole Boy quickly left the house, pulling his furs back on, as the Raven launched himself upwards. Turning into his original form, he flew out of the house, following the boy closely.
The slaves working outside saw the boy, with a raven, leave the house and shook their heads. They had heard all the noise and were surprised to see that the Chief had not punished Tadpole Boy.
“Now food!” shouted the ugly voice of the Raven as he landed on the boy‘s right shoulder. “I am hungry after all that fucking!”
“Yes,” said the Tadpole Boy. “I will pick the house of the best hunter. We will have his family feed us.”
“Be careful,” warned the Raven. “The hunters and fishermen are all back now. Be careful how you handle it!”
“I know that,” said Tadpole Boy, gesturing back to the Chief’s house. “Next time we will visit the women when the men are out hunting for seals or whales. That will allow us more time to have fun.”
“Good thinking,” said the Raven as they approached one of the houses that was smaller than the Chief’s but larger than Tadpole Boy’s.
Tadpole Boy entered the house, being somewhat rude in not announcing himself, and said to the family within, “You will feed me and the raven. You will feed us only the best food you have, from seal meat to berries. You will do so happily and without complaint.”
The family, whose mother and daughter had been about to give plates of food to the husband and his son, switched in mid motion and handed the plates to Tadpole Boy. They waited on him, making sure his cup was refilled with fresh water and piling more fish and meat onto the plates.
The men folk of the family served themselves and did not seem to notice anything wrong with this change in their daily life. Nor did anybody seem surprised at the fact that a bird was able to eat five times his own weight in food.
BURP went the Raven as it tried to move about, dragging himself over the floor to the next dish. “Oh yummy,” he croaked aloud. “Yummy killer whale meat.”
Tadpole Boy, too stuffed to eat another bite, said, “Fill one box with salmon meat, one box with whale fat, and one box with berries. Take them to my family as a gift.”
The father and the son of the household did as he commanded while he rested by the burning fire.
“Soon you will be rich and happy,” stated the Raven as he eyed the mother and daughter while they took up the dirty plates.
“Yes,” said Tadpole Boy as he thought of all the things he could now do for his family. Furs, firewood, copper, the best of everything could be theirs!
The Raven may have been interested in the shapely women of the hunter’s family but his body was not. He was so stuffed with food that he was having a hard time just getting to his clawed feet.
“When the men come back,” suggested the Raven as he wobbled about, “make sure the family does not notice anything weird about the fact that they fed you and gave gifts to your family.”
“I’ll just make them forget,” said Tadpole Boy with a shrug as he picked up one of the blankets. It was a lovely woven blanket, with black, green-blue, and pale yellow dyed wool. He wrapped it about himself and smiled, saying to the two women, “You will not notice that the blanket is missing.”
When the two men were back, he stepped out of the house, stopping only to say, “Once we are gone, you will forget that this had happened.”
Then he and the Raven left the house, the bird spirit having some problems navigating through the doorway, and walked down the pathway. They left the village behind as they approached Tadpole Boy’s home.
“I will meet you here tomorrow,” said the Raven a few feet away from Tadpole Boy’s home. “Tomorrow we will have more sex and food. Maybe we can get many more things for your family. Leggings made from porcupine hair and quills or some pine-nut cakes? Maybe mountain goat tallow?”
“Yes,” said Tadpole Boy, stroking his new blanket and thinking of his rich future.