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 Archive name: slave.txt (Mdom/m, inter)
 Authors name: Daniel Climins
 Story title : THE OVERSEER

 ------------------------------------------------------
 This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 1997.
 Please do not remove the author information or make
 any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-
 commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of
 commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
 ------------------------------------------------------ 
                          
 Just sittin' in my rockin' chair thinkin' back 'bout
 those young bucks I used to oversee on the plantation.
 This was before the war, of course. Then the Goddam
 Yankees came and screwed everything up really good

 My Daddy owned a large cotton plantation. I was born
 in the big house, a mid-wife helped pop me out. Lived
 in that house till I went to war. There was nothing
 to return to. The Yanks had burned the mansion down.

 At six years old I had my own slave. He was six years
 old too. He was called Atwood. Wasn't real uncommon
 for plantation owners children to have their own
 playmate slaves. Lots of times the slaves would grow
 up serving their master all of their lives. Atwood
 stayed as my servant until the war.

 Atwood was given to me at my sixth birthday party. He
 had been bathed till he shined and was wearing clean
 hand-me-downs my brother had cast away. He was led in
 just after I had blown out the cake candles. He had
 flashing eyes and a sense of awareness.

 "Ah's Atwood. Ah's your new slave and playmate. You'se
 mah new master. What's yo' name?"

 "You call me Master Jason and I shall play with you
 right after the party."

 Atwood was led away unceremoniously. Other than the
 housekeepers, a nigger was allowed to stay only
 momentarily in the main house living quarters. Another
 gift I received was a small whip so I could control my
 slave.

 After the party, I hurried to find Atwood who would
 now stay with the servants. "Come on, Atwood. I want
 to show you my fort."

 Atwood looked apprehensively at my whip. "You ain't
 goin' to whup me, is you?"

 "Not unless you get real uppity. My Daddy tells me
 if you get real uppity I can whip you all I want."

 "Ah won't get uppity, Master."

 Atwood followed me as I ran down the path to the log
 cabin fort my Daddy had built for me. It was small,
 but made from real logs and really looked like a fort.
 It had a room below with a ladder to the roof where we
 could look for imaginary Indians through the wall
 portholes. I would shoot at them with two imaginary
 rifles. After firing I would hand each rifle back to
 Atwood for reloading.

 Atwood and I played this game alot but one day our
 imagination sagged and we climbed from the roof into
 the main room wondering how we would kill time. A
 thought came to me. I wondered what Atwood's butt
 looked like.

 "Atwood. I want to see your butt."

 "But Master.."

 "I want you to shuck down. My Daddy says I can whup
 you if you get uppity.

 I giggled as I watched Atwood take off his clothes.
 I stared at his hard little black peter then touched
 it. I had him turn around and looked at his butt. I
 spread his cheeks and looked at his asshole. I dropped
 my pants.  " Here, Atwood you can look at me too."

 My little penis was also hard. Atwood put his hand on
 it. It felt good.

 "Do it some more."

 "Did it feel good when I touched yours?" I asked
 Atwood.

 "Uh, Huh," Atwood nodded.

 "Then let me touch it again."

 Our sex play had started. We spent a lot of time in
 the fort looking, examining and playing with each
 other in our childish ways.

 Between the ages of thirteen and fourteen things
 started to happen to my body. My dick started to
 grow. I was seeing signs of fuzz in my crotch. My
 dick seemed to be uncomfortably hard much of the
 time and every so often in my sleep something would
 be happen and my bed would be wet. Atwood was going
 through the same experience. Now, when Atwood and I
 fondled each other, our touching seemed intensely
 stronger. We learned how to jack each other off.

 Several years later, one day when I was lonely I
 decided to do a little cat fish fishin'. Dug up
 a bunch of worms and headed to the creek. Came upon
 a white friend of mine. My friend had his young slave
 with him. Neither heard my approach. My friend had
 his pants down. He was pushing his slaves head into
 his crotch.

 "Hey! Whatcha doin'?"

 "Gettin' my cock sucked. Come and watch."

 I moved in very close. This was fascinating. I dropped
 to my knees and put my head to about six inches to
 where the action was. I had to have a real close view.
 I watched as the slave opened his mouth and slid his
 masters cock inside. He then took it out and licked it,
 like it was an ice cream cone, his tongue moving around
 over and under the head. Really lapping. My friend
 started to moan, he pulled his dick out of the niggers
 mouth and started to furiously pull it.  The nigger
 stayed in front of him with his mouth open. Cum shot
 from the white boys dick into his slaves mouth. The
 slave swallowed, waited till his master was done pump-
 ing, then licked off the white stuff that remained on
 his dick. My friend held out his hand which was also
 wet with cum. The slave licked his palm and all his
 fingers.

 "Want to do it?" my friend asked? I was hard as a rock
 but too shy to drop my pants and be touched by just
 any nigger. I really wanted to but shook my head. I
 could hardly wait to find Atwood. I would try it with
 him.

 We were outgrowing the small fort, but it was still
 useful for our purpose. I took Atwood up the next day
 for more jackoff and peter play. Atwood didn't know I
 had new ideas.

 Both of our bodies had now developed into those of
 young men. I looked at Atwood. Contours of muscle
 development showed. Black hair surrounded his dick
 and balls. Fat from his butt had been replaced by
 muscular buns. He was a fine looking buck. One regret,
 his peter was bigger than mine.

 I stood still as Atwood's black hand felt and played
 with my balls, tickled my tip, and pulled my peter. I
 did the same to him.  Atwood was down on his knees
 fondling me. I moved my cock closer to his face.  "I
 want you to put my cock in your mouth and suck on it."

 "But Mass'ah, I've never done anything like that."

 "Put it in your mouth, Atwood."

 "But Mass'ah..."

 "Have I ever given you a real good whippin'"

 "No, suh, Mass'ah."

 "Then put my cock in your mouth."

 Atwood reluctantly moved towards my cock. I gripped
 the back of his head and pulled it forward breaking
 what resistance was left. Atwood pulled back my fore-
 skin.  Testing, his tongue came out and gave my tip
 a quick lick.  He paused before trying it a second
 time. His next lick was longer. His lips parted
 making somewhat of a round "O". He slipped my tip
 inside the "O". I could feel the warmness of his
 saliva lubricant. The roughness of his tongue pro-
 ceeded to cause intense, pleasurable, new strange
 feelings. In a sense of frenzy, I pushed his head
 farther against me, my cock slipping to the back of
 his mouth and down his throat. Atwood gagged but
 did not push me away.

 With automatic reflexes my hips started pushing back
 and forth as I held his head in a firm grip. It seemed
 like everything was spontaneous. The feelings were so
 intense I could not stop.  An explosion of cum made
 me feel I had momentarily lost my mind. Atwood removed
 his mouth, my cum running from his lips.

 "Did that feel good, Massah'? Did I do it right?"

 A tree house is a boys realm. What a boy does in his
 tree house is no one's business but his own. My fort
 served as my tree house. Now I was older I used my
 fort for one purpose only. Sex. Atwood was my usual
 guest.

 Since I had found the joys of Atwood's mouth, here
 was the perfect private place to go to get jacked off
 and get a blow job. Atwood was becoming an expert with
 his tongue.

 One day, I really had Atwood turned on. I had been
 giving him a real slow hand job...extra slow. As one
 hand slowly pumped his black dick, my other hand
 gently fondled his balls. I would stop for a moment,
 then start again, gently touching his sensitive
 private places, then resume, slowly pulling his prick.
 Atwood was squirming uncomfortably with his stored
 load. He was on the verge of coming, but I wouldn't
 let him get it off. His body was wiggling, his face
 contorted. I could see him flexing and working every
 muscle possible to relieve his distress by shooting
 his cum.

 "Oh, please, Massah', oh please make me come. Oh,
 please, Massah'............ SUCK ME!"

 A look of horror came over Atwood's face when he
 realized what he had blurted out. . Asking a white
 man to suck his black cock? What had he said? He
 knew he would be severely whipped.

 "Oh please, Suh', Ah didn't mean to say that. Honest
 I didn't."

 Anger surged over me. How could this slave think of
 such a thing. I glared into his pleading eyes. I
 reached for the whip and stood over him. His naked
 ebony body was prone on the floor, his legs drawn up
 and spread. My eyes passed down over his young rippl-
 ing stomach muscles, and then moved to his crotch.
 His black pouch held two, firm, walnut size balls.
 His large erected prick stood hard and throbbing. I
 stared with fixed eyes. I dropped my whip. I knelt
 down.  I was hypnotically being drawn closer to this
 display of ready black male anatomy. I grasped him.
 I pulled the skin of his dick back until it was
 tightly stretched. Its head grew even larger. I
 grasped his balls.  In a uncontrollable trance, my
 mouth opened and my head dropped down. His large
 throbbing muscle slipped into my mouth being quickly
 lubricated with my saliva. My tongue licked with un-
 controllable frenzy. I pushed his prick to the back
 of my mouth, far down my throat. The gush came.  The
 pumping and pumping of warm cum mixing with my saliva.

 I swallowed and swallowed. My head blanketed his
 crotch until his dick was limp. Even then I did not
 want to move my mouth from of his soft, limp stem. I
 snapped out of it.  I drew up realizing what I had
 done.

 "Ah's sorry, Massah'. Ah's sorry," Atwood moaned.

 A feeling of utter guilt came over me. I had sucked a
 dirty nigger slaves cock. Doing such a thing meant tar
 and feathers and being run out of town. This was White
 peoples punishment. I wanted to panic. I was angered.
 I wanted to whip Atwood within an inch of his life,
 maybe even kill him. This was serious. I blamed Atwood.
 It was all his fault. I yanked Atwood to his feet and
 slapped him. Atwood was wide eyed. I grabbed him by
 the shoulders and shook him. "You tell anybody about
 this and I will tie you up and personally cut your
 balls off."

 "Ah's sorry, Massah". Ah's sorry," Atwood kept repeat-
 ing. "Don't whip me, Massah", please don't cut me." My
 mind was spinning. My sexual arousal rose to match my
 anger. I looked at the naked nigger standing scared
 and helpless with his now limp ugly cock. I was really
 going to show him who his Master was.. He was going to
 be sorry for what he made me do.

 "Down on all fours."

 Atwood complied. I backed up and put my butt in his
 face. "Lick it!"

 Atwood feared for his life. He grabbed my hips and
 started rapidly moving his tongue up and down my crack.
 "Inside!. Deeper!. Lick my asshole!." Atwood's hard
 tongue splashing with saliva pushed firmly against my
 hole with rapid circular motions.

 "Get it inside."

 Atwood's gyrating long tongue pressed inward. He moved
 far up, his warm wet working tongue causing new sen-
 sations.

 "In and out!. Keep doing it!."

 I finally pulled away. I had fondled myself all of
 this time. I was hard as a rock.

 "Don't move Atwood."

 Atwood stayed on all fours.

 I walked around to his bare ass. "It's a sin to suck
 a nigger," I thought. "But it's not a sin to fuck a
 nigger. I spittled my cock. "Reach back and spread
 your cheeks." Atwood's hands came back, grasped each
 cheek, pulling them apart.

 "Wider."

 Atwood stretched them further. His black asshole was
 in full view. I placed the head of my cock on his
 target and pushed.  Surprising, my dick easily slid in.
 Atwood had a loose asshole. I wondered if all niggers
 had loose assholes. I moved Atwood's legs wider then
 repositioned my own legs. I grabbed Atwood's hips and
 started to thrust. With anger, my dick drove in and
 out, my hard snapping pelvis thrusts snapped his butt
 as I rammed with all of my might. I came in his ass.
 My body was sweating. I was breathing rapidly.

 I clung to him until I felt I could move again. I
 stood, put one foot against his dripping butt and
 pushed him to the floor. Atwood rolled back and forth.

 "Oh, please, Massah'. Oh please!."

 I sat down spent and exhausted. I tried to clear my
 brain. There had to be a way to silence Atwood so he
 would never tell. I had to put a scare into him. I
 tied his hands behind him. I ordered him to lie on
 his back and to draw and spread his legs. I removed a
 shoelace and gripped his balls, pulling them downward.
 I took the shoelace and wrapped it around its narrow
 area. Pulling tight, I knotted the lace.  His balls
 were squeezed downward, tightly against his outside
 skin.  They profiled clearly. Two big, firm nuts.
 Atwood looked on with wide eyed apprehension.

 I reached to my side and removed my knife from its
 leather sheath. I had just honed and polished it the
 night before. I put the knife in front of Atwood's
 face.

 "I've changed my mind. I'm gonna cut your balls off
 right now." I moved down to his crotch. Atwood became
 hysterical, thrashing, screaming and pleading.

 "Oh, please, Massah' Jason, don't cut my balls off.
 Don't cut me."

 I held the knife, slowly turning it in front of
 Atwood's horror filled eyes. Atwood kept pleading.

 "Please, Massah. Please!".

 "Then you'll never tell anyone I sucked your black
 dick?"

 "No, Massah'. Honest! I'll never tell. I'll be your
 best slave ever. Oh, Lordy! Please don't cut my balls
 off."

 "You'll never tell?"

 "I promise, Massah', never tell. Oh, please, put that
 knife away. Oh, lordy!"

 I reinserted the knife in its sheath.

 "Thank you, Massah'. Oh, thank you!"

 Atwood sobbed loudly.

 "You'll never, never tell?"

 "No Suh. Never. Never!"

 I again became sexually aroused. I wanted Atwood's
 asshole a second time. Since Atwood still wore his
 balls, he was more than cooperative.

 He dropped on all fours, put his head to the ground
 and poked his ass way out to receive me. As I pumped,
 Atwood was saying, "Oh, Massah' that feels so good.
 Thank you, Massah. Oh, Massah, don't stop. I'se here
 to serve you, Massah'. Thank you so much Massah'."

 Finishing, Atwood licked my dick clean. I turned, he
 spread my cheeks and again moved his tongue up my
 asshole.  I stood and let him do it to me for a long
 time..

 When I left the fort, Atwood was still muttering. "I'se
 here to serve you, Massah'. I'll do anything for you,
 Massah'. I'll please you in any way. I'se here to serve
 you."

 Walking down the path, I now felt I could depend on
 Atwood to never tell our secret.

			    *

 Time moved fast at the plantation. I and Atwood were
 now in our mid 20's. My daddy had made me a full time
 overseer in the cotton fields.  As was the custom,
 dependable slaves could be made assistant overseers.
 I had made Atwood my assistant.

 Atwood still catered to my sexual enjoyment, but we
 were both now engaging in outside sexual activity,
 sometimes together and sometimes singly.

 There were always young, second generation, husky
 ebony male bodies to be used. We'd pick them out as
 they worked in the fields. Lots only wore loin cloths
 that only covered their dick and balls. We'd view them
 from atop of our horses as they bent over exposing
 their ass while they hoed cotton. Any that presented
 attractive butts, had long, well shaped muscular legs
 and flowing biceps were carefully eyed. We'd find
 which shanty they lived in and take them to the barn
 during the evening hours. But, that is another story.

 Ours was one of the larger plantations. My daddy was
 very wealthy. He insisted on only the very best slaves
 be bought at the auctions. He let me do the buying.

 First, let me explain about our slaves. We bought them
 to work. In Africa, before they were brought over on
 the boats, they survived on roots and grub worms. Maybe
 some raw or half cooked animal meat. They killed their
 enemies with spears, clubs, or blow guns. The whippings
 we give them is nothing to the ways they were treated
 if captured, or the torture they performed on their
 prisoners. As far as we whites are concerned, they are
 animals in human form. No brains, but strong, usable
 muscles.

 As like other buyers, I inspected the merchandise
 before it was put on the block. The slaves were well
 chained, some still wild as Brahman bulls. It was very
 common for buyers to feel the slaves balls to make
 sure they were getting a buck with a large enough set
 to service the females and produce an abundance of
 little "suckers". The other buyers paid no attention
 when I'd pull back a foreskin and tickled a tip and
 watched a young buck squirm as his black cock slowly
 grew into a stiff, upward standing pole.

 "Hey, Jason! That boy's really got a big one."

 I'd grin and say, "Gotta make sure it'll go in real
 deep so it'll sprout a bunch of new little bucks."

 I'd open the slaves butts, checked their assholes,
 supposedly for hemorrhoids. The new male arrivals
 could really flex tight. Sometimes it took a lot of
 effort to pry those black cheeks open.

 At auction time,  I always got my bid. Money was no
 object. I'd head home with three or four slaves
 chained to the buckboard and present them to my daddy.
 My daddy always approved my pick. He always asked how
 I could find such handsome ones.

 The new slaves would be taken away, staked down and
 their training would start the next day, Atwood being
 in charge.

 Watching Atwood's training was always exciting. He'd
 bring a new slave in the barn cuffed hobbled and naked.
 He'd snap his whip ordering the young black to follow
 simple various commands. It was something like a lion
 trainer in an arena. "Stand up. Sit down. Lie down,
 Roll over. Atwood's whip would wrap around the slaves
 body if he did not obey. I had ordered Atwood to only
 inflict welts, not leave any permanent marks. I would
 want their bodies Free from scars.

 Days later, after the initial subduing, Atwood would
 start sexual obedience.  Submit to your master. I'd
 always get a hard-on watching.

 Up in the barns loft, Atwood had cleared away enough
 hay bales to make a working area. He ordered a black
 boy up the ladder. I watched his young naked ass as
 he climbed the rungs with some hindrance from the hand
 cuffs and leg shackles. Atwood followed with me being
 the last to climb.

 Atwood had built a crude stock with three holes. This
 would hold the slaves head and hands, the rest of his
 body being in a bent over position. However, Atwood
 had preliminaries to take care of.

 He ordered the naked slave to the floor on his back.
 Reaching in his pocket he pulled out a rabbit snare
 made of flexible wire. Rabbit snares are made so the
 noose only locks tighter when tugged. Atwood put the
 loop above the young slaves balls and tightened. He
 allowed several inches of slack and tied the remainder
 to an eye-hook which had been screwed into the floor.
 He was secured and ready for his first feel and peter
 pull.

 Atwood took the black dick, pulled back the foreskin
 and started stroking. The peter started to grow.  The
 slave squirmed. He jerked, pulling the noose tighter
 down on his balls, letting out a cry of pain.

 "Shut-up, said Atwood,."and don't you try to move no
 mo'."

 The slave kept still. Atwood continued to knead his
 balls, pump his dick and push his wet thumb over and
 around the slaves pee hole.

 I watched, awaiting the cum. Black newcomers, fresh
 off the boat, don't know how to jack off, or if they
 do, it's completely taboo. This virgin buck must have
 a huge load. Atwood kept stroking and fondling. The
 black dick was at now at its maximum, swollen and
 throbbing. The slave was squirming but kept from
 pulling his anchored balls tighter.

 Atwood kept pumping and playing until the buck let out
 a startled cry, and tried to lift his crotch. The
 snare pulled tighter on his balls. He came at the same
 time, gushing and shooting. Gushing and shooting cum
 like it was milk pouring out of a cows tit. It flew
 everywhere, covering his body, running down his sides,
 making small pools on the floor. Atwood grinned at me.

 "How was that, Massah'."

 Atwood untied the noose at the anchor ring, let the
 slave roll around a bit then snapped his whip with a
 loud crack, its tip raising dust on the floor by the
 slaves side. Atwood undid the restraints on his hands.

 "Now yo' crawl over to that thing I build and put yo'
 head and hands in those holes. Atwood snapped the whip
 again. "Hurry!"

 The slave crawled across the floor and did as he was
 told  Atwood slid down the top bar, securely locking
 his hands and head in place. The slave was bent over,
 his butt exposed and protruding for Atwood's complete
 pleasure. The noose was still locked tightly around
 his balls, the anchor wire swinging loose..

 Atwood reached for a can of lard, jammed his fingers
 deep, swirled them, withdrawing two heavily coated
 fingers. He spread the slaves cheeks and slapped his
 fingers up and down against his asshole leaving the
 lube around and in its black crevice. With another
 swirling motion of his index finger he entered the
 slaves butt hole. The slave yelled. Atwood grabbed
 the snare, and gave several hard yanks as his finger
 continued to rapidly move in and out of the asshole,
 twisting and turning. Two fingers were inserted. They
 easily slid all of the way into the wiggling young
 black bottom.

 "Yessah," said Atwood. "Yo's gonna make a good butt
 fuck. The Massah' will be pleased, but I'se going to
 loosen you up mo'.  Atwood reached for and greased a
 ten inch piece of broom stick. He put it against the
 black hole, pushed slowly, sliding it in half way. The
 slave cursed in African tribal language.

 "Yo's goin' to learn to like it," Atwood said, shoving
 it up another two inches. "And yo's going to wear it
 till yo' learn to suck my cock real good."

 He moved to the slaves head, held immobile in the
 stocks. Dropping his pants, Atwood stroked his dick
 to make sure it was at its hardest. "Now yo' open yo'
 mouth. I's gonna put this big thing inside and yo's
 goin' to start workin' your tongue fast as yo' can."
 The slave kept his teeth clenched.

 "So yo's gittin' uppity?"

 Atwood returned to the slaves butt, angrily swirled
 the broomstick in wide circles, grasped the snare,
 and again jerked the slaves balls downward.

 "I's gonna continue till yo' open your mouth, nigger."
 He gave two more jerks.

 Atwood moved to the slaves mouth. It had opened. He
 shoved his cock inside, pushing further and further
 until it caused gagging.

 I stayed until I saw Atwood shoot his creamy wad, then
 I had to leave. I had to get ready for a business trip
 to Durham. On my departure I kept wondering what else
 Atwood could have done that I had missed.

 I was gone a week. When I got back, Atwood was very
 much in command. Nothing had gone awry in the cotton
 fields in my absence.

 "And, Massah' I got a present fo' you. I'll be right
 back". Atwood returned leading one of my purchases, a
 boy in his late teens. He was a light tan.

 "I trained him as a special gift just fo' you,
 Massah'". He trained easy. His name is Ivory."

 Looking at Ivory's body, my dick instantly became hard.
 I couldn't wait. Ivory followed me obediently as I
 headed up the path to the log fort. We entered, I
 closed the door. Ivory knew what to do. Atwood had
 really trained him well. He shucked down immediately.
 I did not have to order him.

 My eyes feasted on his beautiful ebony naked body.  He
 was new.  He was fresh. He was all mine.

                               THE END