“Eyewitness History: Essays in Contemporary Pre-Conquest Literature”
Journal of Pre-Conquest Studies
University of --
Xóchitl Ana María Ferguson, Ph.D., Editor
EDITOR’S NOTE: This is one of a series of papers the Journal presents for scholars of pre-Conquest indigenous cultures and ceremonies in the Americas. Every effort has been made to verify the authenticity of alleged contemporary accounts. While the authenticity of the document itself presented here is not in doubt, i.e., that it was written at or around the date of the activities it describes, the events chronicled therein are at significant variance from other sources and contemporary accounts. Accordingly, the document’s very explicit, even lurid, descriptions of the activities accompanying the sacrifice must be regarded, pending further study, as unproven.
It is claimed that human sacrifice, often accompanied by public displays of extreme wanton sexual activity, was an integral part of pre-Conquest indigenous ceremonies associated with the crop cycle to ensure sufficient rainfall for a successful planting, growing and harvest. This article reproduces what is represented to be an authentic contemporaneous description of one such ceremony and sacrifice.
The young man selected for this ceremony and sacrifice as well as the priestesses charged with preparing him generally were barely past the onset of puberty, which according to most contemporary accounts occurred between fourteen and fifteen years of age. The later onset compared to the modern era is believed to be an effect of the borderline malnutrition common in pre-Conquest societies.
Being A True And Accurate Account Of Certain Festivities
And Native Celebrations
Witnessed By Reliable Observers And Faithfully Recorded Herein
Fr. Jacques M. Landrieu, SJa
Signed And Witnessed This 22nd Day Of July, Year Of Our Lord 15--.
Until the end, he heard the drums. For days they had been beating, it seemed to him, but the drink the priestesses gave him early this morning made everything fuzzy and he could not be sure. Now, in the evening, he remembered little from before, but before the drug had taken hold of his mind and his senses completely he remembered the torches at sundown, the warm humid night air and, always, the strokes of the young priestess. He tried to remember her name but it escaped him.
His belly was full. The feast day meant grilled meat from the private stock of the priests, and along with the drug in the morning he’d had his fill of the luscious chunks of lamb, he thought, but he didn’t really know. Anyway, as the drug took hold he no longer cared. He had no hunger for the first time in days, he was pleasantly satisfied, almost empty, in fact, from the ministrations of the priestess overnight, and he was at peace. Peace was a fuzzy place.
“Softly, my love,” she chanted as they circled slowly, their limbs in languid gestures, in the ceremonial courtyard at the base of the pyramid. She steadied him as needed when he wobbled, The two were nude, he was rampant once more after almost a full day of rest, his member recovered from the rigors of an active night with the priestess and her sisters. Also an effect of the drug, he thought, even if he couldn’t clear his head enough to be certain. About anything. Or perhaps from the distraction generated by the lithe body of the young priestess who moved against him in the most tantalizing fashion. She was experienced, even if not in intercourse, in keeping her male partner just under the very peak.
She’d drained him repeatedly through the night, her sisters with her and their laughter and giggles infectious as the boy fountained again and again, even as his eruptions waned when dawn approached. As custom demanded he had his last dry climax just before daybreak. She’d ceased her ministrations then and he welcomed the rest and relief from the stimulation by the priestess and her giggling cohort. She accompanied his rest with soft words and an occasional soft touch throughout the day. When the last drugs were given, his natural resilience and his ability to recover like most healthy teenage boys, plus the aphrodisiac administered along with a sedative, would ensure a full recovery and a magnificent erection, even as it mercifully fogged his wits. His recovery and his performance with the young priestess would be one the entire crowd could enjoy vicariously as she touched him during the dance and in between rest periods. If custom was followed many in the crowd would emulate her actions with their own partners. Finally, the drugs would ensure his ability to climax at the proper time when he lay on the altar, formidably erect but barely conscious, under the young priestess and embedded in her.
That final moment of power and glory would the true climax of his young life. If all went well his last seconds of life on this earth would be a psychological and physical sexual delirium and crescendo of ultimate pleasure.
He was young enough that he’d soon recover were he to orgasm again now, to feel that rush, but it was considered bad form for him to reach a climax after daybreak and before the critical moment of the ceremony. After a day of rest the young priestess come dusk had begun to stimulate him again to bring him close but not on the edge and to ensure he remained almost there until the final moment. Her movements were sure, alternate light and harder strokes, and she could tell by his breathing and by the thrusts of his penis when to slack off for a few moments to let him move a little back down this mountain they were climbing step by step, to rest before they resumed their ascent.
The boy and his friends when they were little had been permitted to climb here, even on this most sacred of sites, albeit not on the altar itself, whenever and wherever they wished as long as no ceremony was in progress. Children were given much license in this ancient culture, perhaps because of the demands of adult life which for almost everyone began at puberty.
Food seemed always to be scarce. There were good years, of course, but too often they came only after long periods of hunger. Everyone worked almost every day. The corn required tending, along with the beans. The few goats the high priests kept could not be sacrificed except in times of extraordinary hardship. That’s what everyone had told him and his friends, but there were persistent rumors the priests enjoyed a goat now and then whenever the mood took them.
He remembered one night when he and his best friend, through the fog he could no longer remember the friend’s name and that made him sad, ventured out after their meagre evening meal in their homes. They’d wandered down back alleys until they came to the large square before the largest pyramid.
“Smell.” His friend poked him. “Can you smell it?”
It took him a moment to recognize the aroma, he’d experienced it so rarely.
“Is it... ?”
“Yes. Let’s go closer.”
There was no chance they’d be able to get close enough to see anything, much less get close enough to grab a piece of the smoking meat that gave off an aroma that drove them crazy, but they maneuvered around until they found a ladder left leaning against the side of a mud hut. They scrambled up, hoping the noise wouldn’t wake the family asleep inside. Idly, he wondered how they could sleep anyway, what with that intoxicating aroma of grilling meat.
From the top the boys could see a corner of the feast tables. The meat was there, slabs of it, more than they’d ever seen in their lives. The aroma alone aroused them, but when they saw the dancers their bodies reacted instantly. Priests and priestesses, most of them barely dressed and few completely nude, moved slowly in a dance that mimicked the act of love. Indeed, a few had gone beyond mimicking. His own penis was erect. He looked at his friend, also erect, and without speaking they began to stroke themselves. They’d learned swiftly, as all boys do, to relish these new feelings, the ones that had come for the first time only a few months earlier.
In a society where very little was private the boys knew exactly what their erect organs could do and what it meant when after a few strokes they felt the wonderful convulsions that seemed to course through their bodies. Soon after their marvelous discovery, this miraculous feeling, they’d begun to ejaculate as well, and both boys experimented with how it tasted.
They’d experimented other ways, too, and he remembered how for the first time they’d helped each other with their hands and later on with their mouths as they imitated the acts they’d seen their parents and their older brothers and sisters perform. They practiced rubbing on each other, and in doing so they learned the pleasure smooth warm skin beneath their hands and bodies and mouths could bring.
That night the dancers began to move faster as the beat of the drums increased. The boys were fairly sure they knew what was coming next, and they were not to be disappointed. Two by two, and sometimes in groups of three, the dancers moved together and joined themselves. Usually men and women, but sometimes men with men and women with women.
The beat grew frenzied and the mating continued and the groupings formed and reformed as the dancers exhausted themselves. Some of the men evidently had drunk of the secret potion the priests were known to brew for themselves, and thus were able to remain hard and continue to satisfy their partners even after they had drained themselves.
.... There is more of this story ...