HERITAGE DAY - Chapter 1

[Miguel85]

Heritage Day - Chapter 1

As the leaves began to turn outside tiny Willow Creek Middle School, excitement buzzed through the hallways. The annual Heritage Day Pageant was just around the corner — a celebration of family histories and a showcase of traditions passed down through generations, performed by that year’s outgoing 8th grade class. Ms. Johnson, the long-serving history teacher, wielded her authority with a vigor that was both amusing and almost fanatical. The school, almost entirely white, was a tapestry of European ancestry, showcasing descendants from various nations. Ms. Johnson called the planning meeting, and her enthusiasm dripped from every word.

“Okay everyone,” Ms. Johnson declared as she clapped her hands together, her voice booming in the cramped auditorium, “this is going to be the best Heritage Day this school has ever seen! Each of you will represent your heritage through a costume. I want you to embrace the rich tapestry of your backgrounds. This is your chance to shine!”

The students – a total of 74 for that year’s graduating class – had been waiting for this day for months. At Willow Creek, the Heritage Day pageant was a big deal, it gave most students what they really wanted: a chance to show off, to be a star, to be the center of attention.

“Can I wear my grandma’s Victorian dress?” asked Lydia, an excitable girl with golden curls and an abundance of confidence.

“Absolutely,” Ms. Johnson replied, noting down the costume ideas on her whiteboard. “And remember, let’s keep the historical accuracy in mind. I want to see real representation!”

Excited chatter erupted as students exchanged ideas. Timothy, with his Mayflower lineage, was thrilled to don a pilgrim outfit. "I'm going full-on Thanksgiving! A big hat and everything," he beamed. Next to him, Emma raised her hand, her sparkling blue eyes wide. “Can I dress as George Washington? I have a great coat at home!”

“Absolutely, Emma!” Ms. Johnson encouraged, her lips curling into a smile. The rest of the class chimed in, describing regal French gowns and Shakespearean attire.

Among the excited chatter, Carlos, a quiet boy from South America, lowered his gaze. He had recently immigrated with his family, escaping economic hardship and seeking a better life. But as the joyful laughter echoed around him, he calculated his heritage was the polar opposite of what his classmates celebrated.

“Ms. Johnson, what about me?” he asked timidly, his heart pounding beneath his chest. “What should I wear?”

“Carlos, darling, you’re from South America, right?” Ms. Johnson moved closer, practically beaming with the excitement of discovery.

The boy nodded. “Yeah, from… from Peru.”

“How thrilling! Well, so, you must represent your lineage!”

“I don’t know what my ancestors wore…” Carlos mumbled, his voice small. “I think my dad’s grand--”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it figured out!” she interrupted with exuberance. “Carlos, you're from South America, so that means your ancestors were Indians!"

The other students turned, glancing at Carlos, and he felt the heat rush to his cheeks.

Ms. Johnson continued: "And that means you'll be dressing up as an Indian!”

“Uh, I dunno, Ms. Johnson, I think we’re just… regular people… from Peru, so--” Carlos started, but Ms. Johnson cut him off.

“Now, now. We can’t mix things up, Carlos. Indians have rich traditions, and I think a traditional outfit would be fitting, don’t you?” Her eyes sparkled, but they were also empty of understanding.

"Uh," the boy mumbled. "I don't know, I – I guess, Ms. Th--"

“Oh, don’t be shy!” She waved her hand dismissively. “You’ll be dancing. Feathers! Everyone will love it!”

Carlos was absolutely not the type of student who wanted the spotlight, to show off, to be a star. He was naturally shy, and was mostly ignored by others, even though everyone knew him since he was the one student to stick out like a sore thumb in their midst.

[Miguel85]

Heritage Day - Chapter 2

Students were to spend the rest of the week researching, sketching, and gathering materials. Ms. Johnson helped out the students that didn’t have any clear ideas.

In the days leading up to rehearsals, the weight of his assignment grew heavy on Carlos’s shoulders.

The boy tried his best to explain that he wasn’t a Native American, he wasn’t “an Indian,” but Ms. Johnson wouldn’t hear of it.

Soon it became clear to Carlos that she had no idea what she was talking about. She showed Carlos pictures of Native Americans, but they were all stereotypes – brown people in face paint and headdresses and loincloths. "This is what you'll be wearing for the pageant," she said, handing him a picture of a Native American in a loincloth. “Look at this Indian, isn’t his headdress impressive!?” she said with a misunderstood air of appreciation.

As rehearsals approached, Carlos was filled with dread, gripping his notebooks and scribbling notes that would never fully express his anxiety. He spent a few days working on the only part of his costume that actually needed work – the headdress. He carefully cut dozens of feathers out of construction paper, and glued them in various rows, creating something surprisingly impressive. But mostly he was consumed by his nerves: he was gonna have to dance in front of the entire 8th grade, wearing nothing but a loincloth, face paint, and a paper headdress? That sounded like maybe the most humiliating thing he could do, he did not want that kind of attention on him, on his… body.

By the end of the week, it was time to finalize the costumes. Ms. Johnson gathered the students in a tight circle.

While some were still sketching ideas, many were already busy creating their themed costumes—the honor of wearing royal attire from Europe, or suit up as explorers and brave stewards of history.

“This is your chance to showcase true heritage!” Ms. Johnson boomed.

“Let’s talk about Emma’s costume. Emma, stand up!” she motioned to the girl, who happily hopped onto her feet, in complete George Washington regalia, wig and everything. “Now, Emma is… well, she’s practically done, aren’t you Emma?”

“Yes, Ms. Thompson,” Emma said smugly, “I borrowed my great-grandmother’s coat and I got this wig at the costume store...”

“See, now that’s what we’re looking for here, class, that sort of…” she looked at Emma proudly, beaming “...that sort of dedication.”

Carlos swallowed dryly. He had a headdress… and that’s it. He couldn’t bring himself to ask her any questions about… loincloths.

"Ok, now, let’s talk about Carlos’ costume.”

Carlos’ felt his face turn red.

“See, Carlos’ ancestors were Indians, so he can’t come in just any outfit, it has to be something authentic, something that will really make an impact!”

She pulled out a National Geographic magazine and flipped through it. She found the page she was looking for and held it out for everyone to see. A wave of giggles swept through the room. This wasn’t the picture she had shown Carlos before, it was two Native Americas standing side by side. The headdresses was similar, the face paint was similiar, but there was one glaring difference: these guys were not wearing loincloths.

Carlos broke into a cold sweat.

“Wait, wh-wh-wa-what ab-ab-about the uhhhh.. uhhh… t-the loincloth, right, I was thinking, maybe I can wear a speedo or ma—”

The stuttering made a dozen nearby kids giggle. Ms. Johnson continued:

"No, no, Carlos. I thought this over all week, and you’ll wearing face paint and a headdress, just like this, and that’s it!"

“Uhhh… wait, and nothing else? Bu-bu-bu-but, y-y-you showed me a p-p-ph-picture, and and, and the guy had on a lo-lo-loin—”

The loincloth… which felt like the most embarrassing part of this 10 minutes ago, was now a lifeline the boy desperately clung to.

“Yes, but I did some more research, and class, it turns out, that real Indians, they don’t wear anything at all!” she said matter of factly.

Carlos felt his vision go black. Was this really happening?

“No, it’s ok, Ms. J-J-Johnson, I’ll wear a loincloth, I think tha-tha-that’s really au-au-authen-- authentic!”

“No, it turns out, it was the white man who made them wear those loincloths, because the white man were imposing their rules on the Indian!” she said ‘white man’ like they were the villains in this story. “But in reality, the Indians wore absolutely nothing, because they were comfortable with their bodies!”

“It’s okay, Ms. Johnson. I can wear something from home, my ancestors were just regular peop--,” Carlos pleaded, hoping to diffuse the conversation.

“Nonsense! You will dance in traditional attire… your... lack of costume will be your costume!” Ms. Johnson announced with a grin, a manic energy flickered in her eyes as she added, “You already created a beautiful headdress, Carlos, all you need now is some face paint, and… maybe a spear!”

Carlos' entire body burned with embarrassment.

Carlos’ voice cracked, laughter bubbling from the others. “You want me t-t-t-to go... nuh-nuh-nuh... naked?”

“Of course! It’s authentic! Imagine the impact!” she insisted, clapping her hands again. Giggling and stifled laughter went through the auditorium.

The boy couldn't believe what he was hearing.

[Jonjon2]

A great start to this story. I can't wait to see what costume he ends up wearing as an Indian. I'm sure his teacher will help him with his costume. And if your other stories are anything to go by, I'm hoping he will be embarrassed by not being a well endowed Indian and that that will become obvious to all the onlookers.

[NudeBaG]

Similar premise to my story Heritage Day Gone Wrong.
A really fun premise.

[tim409]

Heritage Day - Chapter 2



Carlos’ voice cracked, laughter bubbling from the others. “You want me t-t-t-to go... nuh-nuh-nuh... naked?”

“Of course! It’s authentic! Imagine the impact!” she insisted, clapping her hands again. Giggling and stifled laughter went through the auditorium.

The boy couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Sounds like a good ah great plan to me. Many of the Indians did go naked but it was mostly males and some of the women did go topless but they did practice a CFNM lifestyle which would be great to do today but make it a pure CFNM lifestyle with the women and girls being modestly dressed while all the males are naked.

[NickTwisp]

When I was in Scouting, we had the Order of the Arrow pledges perform at campfires. In the warmer weather they just wore loincloths. Usually, they wore briefs (or sometimes jock straps) under the loincloths...but not always. If there was a breeze that night some unintentional exposure could occur.

[Jeepman89]

"And if your other stories are anything to go by, I'm hoping he will be embarrassed by not being a well endowed Indian and that that will become obvious to all the onlookers." I vote for him to be well endowed actually. The onlookers would have more fun seeing his big cock rather than a little peepee. Keep in mind that he will be embarrassed just the same having a big dick.