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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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The Adventures of Stampley Plantation - 6
by WannabeWhitman (wannabewhitman@yahoo.com)
***
(mm-teens, intr)
DISCLAIMER: This story is a sexual fantasy involving
slavery in the antebellum South, non-consensual sex
with minors, and the occasional use of racial epithets.
The material is mostly of a homosexual nature, but does
and will continue to involve some bisexual themes. If
you think any of this might offend you, DO NOT READ. I
realize these stories might contain material
distasteful and offensive to some readers, but nobody
is forcing you to read it. Keep in mind these are only
FANTASIES based on America's racial history and my own
conflicted imagination about that history. My intention
is not to condone or encourage racism, sex with minors,
or rape.
Although this story is set in the antebellum South, I
have not done extensive research and cannot guarantee
complete historical accuracy. Most of the names,
however, are taken from actual records of slave-owners
and their slaves.
Any and all feedback is welcome and desired! I would
love to hear advice on how my writing might improve,
characters or scenes you particularly enjoy,
suggestions for future characters or storylines,
stories and fantasies of your own, and anything else
you might want to share. E-mail me at
WannabeWhitman@yahoo.com.
Chapter 5: Jacob
James was having a hell of a nightmare.
Dreams during daytime naps always seem the most
disturbing, but this was unusually intense. James
tossed and moaned in his sleep, the naked slumbering
bodies of Elijah and Thad still pulled against his
body.
James was kneeling on the dusty wooden floor, fucking
Elijah on all fours just as he had no more than an hour
earlier while the boy's little brother sat in the chair
and watched.
Only instead of Thad sitting on the chair, it was
James's MOTHER, who'd died from yellow fever when he
was twenty years old. Growing up, his father was always
away on long business trips to England, leaving his
mother to raise him alone. James had never been as
close to another human being as he'd been to his
mother, and it took him two years before his heart-
wrenching grief dulled into a more general, bearable
sadness.
James was horrified at his mother's unexpected presence
in this perverse, embarrassing context. He stopped
fucking Elijah and looked at his mother with the
shocked and apologetic expression of a toddler who's
just been caught in an act of disobedience. Instead of
looking angry and appalled, however, his mother
retained the calm, angelic expression she almost always
had on her face when alive. She merely looked sad and
disappointed, which made her son feel all the more
ashamed.
"James Arthur Stampley," she said in the scolding tone
no son ever wants to hear from the mother he loves.
"What are you doing??? I realize I've abandoned you for
the last ten years, but I know I raised you better than
this! Why are you hurting that poor Negro boy???"
James opened his mouth to explain, but no words would
come out. He tried to pull his dick out of Elijah, but
his body was frozen to his slave-boy's in mid-fuck.
"Didn't I teach you about the Golden Rule, son?" his
mother continued in a soft, sad voice. "Didn't I tell
you to treat ALL God's creatures with kindness, no
matter how dark or light their skin might be colored?
Didn't I raise you better than to do such vile things
to a helpless Negro boy?"
James struggled frantically to disentangle his body
from Elijah's, which now felt cold and limp like a
corpse's. Sounds of apology and explanation choked in
his throat.
"And such words I heard come out of your mouth!" his
mother exclaimed, shaking her head in disappointment.
"Such ugly, hateful words! Treating this cute little
Negro boy worse than you'd treat a dog or a horse! What
have you turned into, son?"
Tears of shame and remorse ran down James's face.
Finally words came to him and he cried out, "I'm sorry,
Mama! Please forgive me, Mama! I'm so weak, Mama, and
the temptation was so strong. Please forgive me, Mama!"
"You know what must be done, James," his mother said
quietly.
"What?!? What must I do, Mama? Please tell me what to
do!" James begged.
"You know what must be done," was all she said in
reply. She repeated this mysterious mantra over and
over.
"Tell me, Mama! Please tell me! I'm so sorry, Mama, I'm
so sorry! I'm so sorry..."
James was shouting his apologies when he felt two tiny
hands tugging on his arm.
"Wake up, Massuh James! You'se just havin' a bad
dream!" he heard a child's voice coming from above him.
James's eyes shot open in terror and confusion. He saw
the faces of Thad and Elijah looking down at him with
concern. As soon as he remembered where he was, he
bolted into a sitting position and looked at the wooden
chair still sitting in the middle of the bedroom. It
was empty. He lay back down, forehead still covered in
sweat and chest still heaving from the emotional
exertions of his nightmare.
Normally the presence of the two gorgeous slave-boys
still nude and sitting at his sides would have been a
welcome comfort after an unpleasant dream. But this
afternoon was different. Thad and Elijah were reminders
of his guilt, and he wanted desperately to be alone
with the thoughts of his dead mother. He looked at the
stopwatch on the table beside the bed and saw that it
was already 2:15 p.m., nearly time for them to leave
before Abel would come to clean the room.
"I'd like for you boys to go now," James said wearily.
Unmistakable looks of relief crossed both boys' faces.
Elijah and Thad scrambled to retrieve their scattered
clothes. James almost regretted his decision when he
saw Elijah's beautiful dick -- now crusted with cum,
spit, and his little brother's ass-juices - dangling
heavily as Elijah lifted his legs into his pants. James
glanced at Thad, whose perfectly rounded bottom wiggled
in the air as he bent over to collect his pants. The
recollection of Elijah's thick dark dick forcing its
way into the little bum flashed across James's mind,
making his dick stir with its own curiosity to explore
the forbidden pleasures of Thad's ten-year-old ass.
The memory of his disappointed mother chased this
momentary lust away, however, and he turned to stare
out the window at the afternoon sun. He looked back as
the two brothers, now clothed in their tattered rags,
started to leave the room.
"Oh, and Elijah..." James said hurriedly.
"Don't...don't worry about coming back tonight."
Elijah looked startled, and could barely disguise his
joy at the news. It had been ten nights since he'd
enjoyed a peaceful night's sleep in his own bed.
"I'm afraid I'm not feeling well," James added, looking
back out the window. "I'll send someone for you when I
want to see you again."
"You gonna look for Daddy, like you promised us?"
Elijah asked shyly, hoping his curiosity wouldn't
enrage Master James and ruin the night's temporary
freedom.
"I-I'll see what I can do, Elijah," James said
guiltily, still looking away from the boys. "I enjoyed
meeting you, Thad," he added, turning back for one last
look at the beautiful little boy he had so far just
barely touched.
"Thank you, Massuh James," Thad whispered, his eyes
frozen on the ground. His asshole was still throbbing
with pain, and he was impatient to get to the creek
where he could clean and cool its fiery discomfort.
After the boys left, James put on his clothes, stripped
the bed-sheets, grabbed clean clothes, and headed
downstairs to his private bathroom in the east wing of
the house. He'd ordered Abel to have a hot bath waiting
for him every day at three o'clock.
As he sank his weary body into the hot water of his tin
washtub - nearly twice the size of the one he'd seen
Abel use - James reflected on his behavior with Elijah
and Thad earlier that day.
In the calm of his sleeping sex drive (thanks to his
recently emptied balls), James's domination and
degradation of the two brothers seemed like the actions
of a cruel madman, someone separate from and offensive
to the sensibilities of the good person he felt himself
to be at that moment.
Deep down, James knew he still believed slavery was
evil. He knew he still believed in the ideals of human
equality that made America, still in its infancy, such
a unique and wonderful country. He knew that he didn't
REALLY believe a smart, handsome, good-natured boy like
Elijah was a "dumb nigger" or "dirty pickaninny."
In fact, he felt a strong pang of affection just
thinking of the boy's cute stories, told in that raspy
voice somewhere between a boy's and a man's. He wanted
to know every action, thought, and feeling of Elijah's
young life, inside and out. This is absurd, he thought
to himself. What would people think if they knew a
wealthy, now-powerful slave-owner like himself was
spending every waking moment obsessing over a 14-year-
old Negro boy?
Then again, he reassured himself, switch the gender and
his was a story countless other slave-owners
experienced in secret. He recalled reading the novel
CLOTEL by William Wells Brown, along with other
narratives of ex-slaves distributed by his Abolitionist
friends, and hearing numerous lectures by former slaves
in Boston. Even though people didn't talk about it,
everybody knew Masters raped their slaves. For proof,
all one had to do was look at the dozens of shades of
color in the Negro population. In 1855, it was nearly
impossible to find a purebred African anymore.
But what the slave narratives and lectures documented,
the thing that few white folks wanted to admit, was the
frequency with which Masters, sons, overseers, wives,
and daughters fell insanely and obsessively in love
with their slaves. With whites and Negroes living and
working together in such unnatural intimacy, it was a
wonder it didn't happen MORE frequently. Obsessive love
is destructive even in the most equal of romantic
partnerships, but add to it slavery's gift to one
partner of complete power over the other, and tragedy
was almost inevitable.
None of this offered much comfort to James as he
distractedly stood to scrub his body with the soap and
bristled brush Abel had dutifully laid on the stool
beside his washtub.
If he TRULY loved Elijah, why did he get such a thrill
from seeing the boy hurt and humiliated? Wouldn't a
true and noble love be willing to sacrifice his own
pleasure for the sake of Elijah's happiness? What was
it within him that found it exciting to witness the
corruption of Elijah and Thad's innocence? He'd also
never uttered hateful, degrading names for Negroes
before coming to Georgia. Was there something toxic in
the Southern air that polluted one's mind with ugly
words and callous brutality toward one's fellow human
beings?
James had only been at Stampley Plantation for a little
over three weeks, and already he'd turned into the
lecherous Mr. Potter, calling slaves filthy names and
laughing as he watched a Negro slave rape his little
brother.
Was this whole thing just a sick practical joke?!?
James laughed cynically to himself as he imagined Mr.
Potter, Elijah, Thad, his friends from Boston, even his
Uncle Walter, bursting into the room at any minute,
laughing and shouting, "SURPRISE!!!!" Then revealing
that the whole thing had been an elaborate trick to
test his TRUE feelings about slavery in the South. A
test he had failed miserably and inexcusably.
James winced with shame as he remembered the dream of
his dead mother. He wasn't a spiritual man, so he
didn't believe his mother had literally visited him
from the afterlife. But the vivid sight of her face,
blurry in his memory for so many years, looking at him
with sorrow and disappointment in her eyes, had filled
him with shame and self-loathing. He interpreted her
visitation as a message from his conscience, a message
worth listening to.
"You know what must be done, James." The chilling words
still rang in his ears. What exactly had his mother
meant by that?
His first thought was that she was telling him to do
what he'd intended to do three weeks ago when he first
arrived at Stampley Plantation: Free all 248 of his
slaves, sell the property, and enjoy the rest of his
life traveling and enjoying life as an independently
wealthy bachelor.
But James became dizzy and depressed when he thought
about turning his back on the temptations of his new
life, the possibilities he would never again have an
opportunity to explore. If he freed his slaves and
moved North, he'd be lucky to find two or three free
Negroes interested in having sex with him. And even
then, they'd probably be eager, sissy sodomites, not
masculine, virgin boys and men new and reluctant to the
world of male-male sex. He wouldn't be able to enjoy
boys as young as Elijah and Thad without fear of being
exiled or executed. He wouldn't have the same
uninhibited power to do and say whatever he pleased
during a sexual encounter.
A mother's rebuke is a powerful deterrent, but could he
really set free the 150-plus boys and men on his
plantation, knowing that as things currently stood, he
could enjoy every single one, and thousands more, in
limitless combinations, positions, and fetishes, every
single day for the rest of his life?!? Was he willing
to let his conscience rob him of the chance to sample
Thad's virgin mouth and near-virgin ass?
James's mind did somersaults to come up with a less
extreme and painful interpretation of his mother's
haunting words. She mentioned nothing of the other
slaves, he rationalized. She merely seemed concerned
with ELIJAH'S welfare. Perhaps she was simply reminding
him to keep his promise to the boy, to make up for the
child's suffering by reuniting him with his father. The
longer he thought on it, the more convincing his theory
seemed.
Yes, he eagerly told himself. He wouldn't do anything
as rash as freeing his slaves just yet, but he COULD
perform an act of kindness that would keep his word,
appease his dead mother/conscience, AND inspire the
gratitude, perhaps even love, of the boy he was
developing such intense feelings for.
Satisfied and relieved with this hasty and morally
dubious compromise, James finished his bath and resumed
his afternoon routine with renewed vigor.
He spent an hour rummaging through papers in his
Uncle's study, hoping to find records of slave sales,
or at the very least the name of the attorney his Uncle
used to arrange such transactions. He didn't have any
luck. It became quickly obvious that Uncle Walter
hadn't cared much for keeping records, or at least not
for keeping them organized. It looked like his Uncle
had consulted at least a dozen different attorneys over
the past five years, and none seemed to stand out as an
expert on the legalities of slave sales and purchases.
That night over supper, James asked Mr. Potter where he
could find the attorney most likely to have overseen,
or at least be knowledgeable of, all slave sales on the
Stampley Plantation over the past ten years.
After some curious teasing, Mr. Potter gave him the
names of three prominent attorneys and the owner of the
nearest slave-market. All of them resided in the small
metropolis of Columbus, Georgia, about a day's wagon-
ride south of Potter County.
Impatient to pursue his intentions before changing his
mind, James asked Mr. Potter to arrange a wagon and
driver for early the next morning. He would spend the
night in Columbus, conduct his business the following
day, and return to Stampley Plantation three days
later. Mr. Potter offered to accompany him on the trip,
but James politely refused. He knew the talkative man
wouldn't give him the time he needed to think, and
besides, this was something he wanted to do on his own.
The fresh air and change of scenery would do him some
good, James reflected as he went to bed later that
night, the first night he'd gone to bed alone for over
a week. It would help him clear his head and get some
desperately needed perspective on the past three weeks.
At the very least, it would get his mind off the slave-
boy that made his heart do back-flips every time he
pictured him.
Or so James hoped.
***
Only two things kept Jacob the stable-boy from stealing
one of the overseer's guns and blowing his brains out:
Fucking pussy, and hating white folks.
He loved the one as much as he despised the other, and
pursued both with equal enthusiasm. Other than his
little sister Laney, they were the only two things in
the world that made it worth getting out of bed each
morning.
He'd hated white folks for as long as he could
remember. As young as five, he was already cautious and
vaguely fearful of the ugly overseers, reeking of sweat
and alcohol, who would sometimes stroll through the
slave quarters and whistle obnoxiously at the pretty
girls and women. He remembered his first sparks of
anger and resentment when they'd disrupt a game of
marbles with a kick of their boots, laughing as the
marbles scattered in every direction.
When Jacob was eight, fear and annoyance flamed into
full-blown hatred. One day three of the overseers
thought it was funny to grab him from his playmates,
hold his little body upside down by the feet, and dunk
him head-first into one of the older women's tubs of
water, dirty from washing clothes. They held his head
under the water for up to a minute at a time, laughing
hysterically as his arms and legs jerked and flailed in
panic that they were going to drown him.
They pinched and slapped his cheeks every time they'd
pull him out of the bucket - water, snot, and tears
gushing from his face as he screamed in helpless
terror. The older Negro women who kept an eye on the
slave children while their parents worked in the
fields, were powerless to stop the sadistic prank. All
they could do was look at the ground and shake their
heads. At their age, the creative cruelties of white
men were no longer capable of surprising them.
But that was mild compared to what Jacob had
experienced at the hands of white men during his
eighteen years on Stampley Plantation.
At the age of fourteen, four overseers, obviously
drunk, stormed into his family's cabin late at night,
armed with whips and guns. Two of them restrained him
and his father and forced them to watch as the other
two overseers raped his mother and Laney, who was only
ten years old at the time. Those two switched places so
that the one who'd been fucking Jacob's mother then
fucked Laney, and vice versa. Then they took over
guard-duty for the other two, holding back the enraged
but powerless father and son while their intoxicated
buddies had their way with the mother and sister.
Jacob's mother drowned herself in the creek two days
later, and his father was a broken man from that day
forward.
Jacob's horror at what he'd been forced to witness, and
grief over his mother's suicide, quickly turned into a
fierce and suffocating hatred for all things white. The
only thing that stopped him from slaughtering as many
white men as he could before being captured, was his
deep love for Laney and his father. He knew they
couldn't survive the loss of another loved one, so he
repressed his desire for revenge to spare them further
tragedy.
At least his life hadn't been bad as far as physical
labor was concerned. Instead of being dragged off to
the fields at the age of 14 or 15 like his friends,
Jacob was trained by his father to be an assistant
stable-hand. He learned to feed and care for Master
Walt's horses and livestock, while his father worked as
a driver when Master Walt or one of the overseers
needed to head to town or take longer trips elsewhere.
Not only was it a rare privilege to work so closely
with his father, but it was also a job with relatively
little oversight by the overseers, and tiring but not
unbearable labor. Best of all, it spared him from
extensive interaction with white folks.
Until he was fool enough to get caught fucking Becky,
Master Walt's cook, one day in the hayloft when he was
17. It wasn't his fault. Becky's the one who came on to
him, and his horny teenage dick had never been one to
turn down easy pussy. He felt guilty afterwards,
thinking about Becky's husband Abraham and son Abel,
but he didn't know the half of it until Master Walt
caught wind of the affair.
Apparently Master Walt had a thing for Becky years ago,
and the more shameless gossips in the slave-quarters
even whispered that Abel was in fact the offspring of
Master Walt rather than Abraham. "Ain't nobody light as
that boy done come from an African-lookin' nigger like
Abraham," they concluded.
Unfortunately for Jacob, he was apparently the last
Stampley slave to learn of the rumors, and by that time
the damage was already done. Even though the affair had
supposedly died out years ago, the news of Jacob's
careless mistake awakened the passions of Master Walt's
younger years, sending the older white man into a fit
of petty jealousy and revenge.
The Master and overseers began to find fault with
everything he did or allegedly didn't do. Whippings, a
relatively rare occurrence under the ownership of
Master Walt, became a weekly, sometimes even DAILY,
occurrence, with Jacob as the sole recipient of the
punishments. Jacob's hatred fueled him with enough
adrenaline to endure his whippings, but it wasn't
enough to prepare him for Master Walt's next level of
vindictiveness.
One day his father was ordered by one of the overseers
to carry a bag of grain-feed from the wagon to the
stable. The overseer knew the load was too heavy for
the elderly man's frail shoulders, but made him do it
anyway. While carrying the unwieldy burden, his father
tripped and sprained his ankle. Claiming the man's
injured old bones were no longer useful to him, Master
Walt shipped him off to Columbus the next morning and
sold him for less than the price of a saddle.
Master Walt kept many elderly slaves on the plantation.
Jacob knew his father's sale was done solely to spite
Jacob for putting his dick in a piece of pussy his
Master fancied.
Not only did his father's sale mean more heartache for
him and Laney, but it also meant more work for Jacob.
Instead of purchasing or promoting a younger slave for
his father's position, Master Walt required that Jacob
perform the work of two slaves. If the Master or one of
the overseers needed his services as a driver during
the day, he had to make up for the lost time late into
the night, cleaning the animal-pens and feeding the
livestock.
At 18, Jacob played the role of "happy darky" well.
Hell, he'd been trained in it since birth, and his
nearly pitch-black skin added a nice touch to his
grinning, groveling performances. But beneath the "Yes,
Massuhs" and "I'se sho sorry, Massuhs," Jacob's hatred
for white people had turned into a seething contempt
and intractable animosity as natural to him as
breathing.
The only release Jacob found from this pent-up
hostility was through fucking.
He'd been fucking girls since the age of 13, and
considered himself pretty damn good at it. Sometimes
he'd have to go "steady" with one of the girls for a
couple weeks before she'd lift her skirts for him, but
the flings he preferred were the stolen quickies in the
hayloft, woods, or slave-cabins, sometimes with married
women who'd sneak away from the fields for an afternoon
fuck.
Sex provided Jacob an escape from the work and tragedy
of his life. He liked it because it was something he
could do with absolute freedom from the white man's
control. When he moved his dick in just the right way
to make the girl howl and beg for more, it gave him a
sense of pride and accomplishment, knowing that it was
a talent for which he could take total credit.
Of course he enjoyed the feeling of a tight, wet pussy
sucking on his manhood, but what he loved more than
anything was the moment of climax. Fucking became a
substitute for violence, his hips thrusting into the
girl beneath him with the ferocity with which he longed
to stab or beat a white man, any white man, to death.
Sometimes he'd even forget the needs of the girl
beneath him, clenching his eyes shut and visualizing
scenes of blood and violence as his black, sweaty body
slammed ruthlessly into her again and again. Once or
twice he'd opened his eyes to see the girl staring with
fear into his wild face with its distant, murderous
look, and she'd futilely strain to free herself from
the muscled body pinning her down.
When the moment finally came for him to explode his
steaming, pent-up load deep between the girl's spread
legs, Jacob took it as an act of divine compassion, a
chance for him to release all the pain and hatred of
his young, fucked-up life. In those first hours after
climax, Jacob always felt the least hateful and most
contented he knew he'd probably ever feel.
On average Jacob fucked a different girl a week,
sometimes as many as three different girls in one day.
Rumors of his sexual skills spread quickly, and the
slave girls and women eagerly threw themselves at him
most of the time.
One time when he was 16, however, one of his former
conquests, jealous and angry that he didn't want to
settle down with her, spread a false rumor about a
nasty infection on his dick, resulting in a pussy
famine that lasted for nearly a month. Being a teenage
boy accustomed to getting his dick wet any time he
wanted, Jacob suffered the loss sharply.
Eventually Jacob became so desperate that he
experimented with some of the plantation BOYS.
One of his buddies named Nelson had been purchased a
couple years back from a plantation where the Master
and several of the overseers preferred the mouths and
asses of Negro boys to the mouths and pussies of Negro
girls. Everybody knew it, but Nelson never liked to
talk about it.
But one late night during the infamous "pussy famine,"
Jacob, Nelson, Jacob's best friend Solomon, and another
buddy named Charlie, were hanging out together in the
stable. They were sitting on short wooden stools and
drinking some of the homemade liquor made secretly in
the woods on Sundays by some of the older slave-men
using dandelions or stolen corn as their main
ingredients.
After having a little too much to drink, Nelson started
telling Jacob and the two other teenage boys about his
experiences at his former plantation. He said that at
first he'd hated what the white bastards forced him to
do, starting at the age of 14. But then he went on to
say that eventually he got used to the feeling, and
started telling them in slurred words how a wet mouth
on a hard dick felt good no matter who the mouth
belonged to, and that a boy's ass felt even BETTER than
pussy because it was so much tighter. He even confessed
that sucking dick and taking dick up the ass wasn't as
bad as it might seem based on the jokes and good-
natured ribbing so common in the talk of Negro boys and
men. He said it actually felt good once you got used to
it.
Jacob was surprised when he first heard Nelson talk
that way, because Nelson always looked and acted just
as much a man as Jacob, and he couldn't imagine Nelson
on all fours sucking a guy's dick, or on his back, legs
spread in the air, while another boy or man fucked his
ass just like it was pussy. Jacob felt sort of sorry
for the kid, and could only figure that the white
motherfuckers on Nelson's old plantation had raped the
poor guy so many times that he eventually began
BELIEVING he was nothing more than a cock-sucking piece
of boy-pussy for men to enjoy.
Taking another swig of liquor from the large jug the
boys were sharing, Nelson suddenly looked nervously
around at Jacob and the other two and asked if they
wanted to get their dicks sucked or fuck him in the
ass. To see with their own eyes he wasn't lying, he
said.
Of course they all laughed and told him to "shut the
fuck up about that nasty shit," but those first moments
of drunken, dismissive laughter were followed by an
awkward silence.
It had been nearly three weeks since Jacob had fucked
any pussy, and three days since he'd jacked his dick.
He couldn't help but find himself at least a little bit
curious to see what Nelson was talking about. For a
teenage boy who loved sex as much as Jacob did, what
harm could come from it? As long as it felt good and
brought him to one of his fierce, ecstatic climaxes was
all that Jacob cared about.
And maybe it was just the dizzying effect of the
whiskey, but Nelson was actually looking good to him
just then. He had smooth dark skin, not as dark as
Jacob's but close; short crispy hair cut close to his
head; thick, purplish-red lips; and pretty, almost
feminine eyes. He would have been good-looking as
either a boy or girl, Jacob thought, but Jacob liked
the fact that Nelson still had a deep voice and
slender, lightly muscled build normal for a teenage
boy. He didn't sound, walk, or talk like a girl.
Jacob grabbed the jug from Nelson and took a long
drink, looking nervously at his buddies to see if they
shared his drunken curiosity. They looked back at him
with the same sheepish looks, nobody wanting to be the
first to admit what they all were thinking.
Sensing that his friends' curiosity was inhibited only
by their stubborn masculine pride, Nelson wobbled to
his feet, grabbed Jacob by the hand, and pulled him to
a standing position from the short wooden stool on
which he'd been sitting. Nelson dropped to his knees
and began fumbling with the belt of Jacob's dirty
cotton pants.
Jacob looked over at Solomon and Charlie with a nervous
smile, as if to say, "I can't believe I'm about to let
him do this!"
Delayed by his drunkenness but certainly not by any
apparent lack of eagerness, Nelson finally unbuckled
the troublesome belt, and yanked Jacob's pants down
till they rested around his ankles and bare feet.
Nelson wasted no time getting Jacob's dick wet,
swallowing nearly all of Jacob's thick eight inches
with his first gulp. Nelson grabbed the base of the
dick with his right hand and began sucking it with
ferocious eagerness, moaning and slurping on it just
like a girl.
BETTER than a girl! Jacob had enjoyed dozens if not
hundreds of blowjobs since the age of thirteen, but
none had swallowed his dick as deeply and eagerly as
Nelson did that night. Damn, Jacob thought to himself,
those white motherfuckers had turned the poor kid into
one hell of an expert cocksucker. Jacob felt a pang of
guilt for taking pleasure in the result of the white
men's perversions.
The warm, tight suction of Nelson's wet mouth quickly
chased away all reservations, however. Jacob leaned his
head back, closed his eyes, and slowly began rocking
his hips so that his dick pushed in and out of Nelson's
mouth.
Jacob loved the way Nelson took all of his dick in his
mouth, smashing his nose into Jacob's thick patch of
nappy pubic hair until the entire shaft was buried in
his throat. Nelson even choked and gagged like it was
all part of the fun. Most bitches were on their feet
and out the door the first second they even THOUGHT
they might gag, but Nelson was devouring his dick like
he was competing for a ribbon at the Potter County
Fair.
Just as Jacob was being transported to that place of
concentrated hostility and impending release, Nelson
pulled his mouth off his dick with a loud slurping
noise and took a deep breath. Nelson nodded his head at
Solomon to stand beside Jacob. Solomon reluctantly
complied, standing awkwardly next to his friend as
Nelson worked Solomon's pants to the ground.
Solomon was close to seven feet tall, with a wiry build
and light-golden skin. He had a long face that Jacob
knew the girls found attractive, with green eyes, thin
lips, and a thin layer of black fuzz above his upper
lip. Jacob glanced at his friend's now-naked dick out
of the corner of his eye, and almost laughed when he
saw how huge it was. It still hung soft from
nervousness, but even in its shrunken state it hung a
thin but impressive nine or ten inches at least, its
foreskin still closed around the tip. Clearly Solomon's
obvious white ancestry hadn't affected the size of his
manhood. Jacob thought it seemed a dick fitting with
his friend's tall, lanky build.
Nelson smiled up at Solomon and shook his head back and
forth in eager disbelief before scooping the sleeping
giant up in his mouth for a first taste. Solomon's eyes
looked drunk and dazed, but his dick sprang quickly to
life under Nelson's experienced tongue-swirling. Soon
it was a good eleven inches jerking toward the ceiling,
looking like one of the long cane-poles the boys used
for fishing. Even after years of cock-sucking, Nelson
could only fit a little more than half of it in his
mouth.
Jacob reached down and began stroking his own dick,
partly to keep it hard and ready for the return of
Nelson's mouth. But also because he found himself
uneasily aroused by the sight of Solomon's narrow dick
sliding in and out of Nelson's slobbery mouth, drool
dripping from the cocksucking slave-boy's chin every
time the dick slipped from out of his lips. Solomon's
entire body was comically tense, his eyes shut tightly
in embarrassment.
Charlie didn't wait for Nelson's invitation to join the
fun. He stood up, untied the string looped through his
ragged pants, and shoved them down around his ankles.
Charlie was shorter than Jacob, with a younger-looking
build that nevertheless showed some tight adolescent
muscles. He had a round boyish face, dark-brown skin,
medium-length wooly hair, thick African nose, and a
devastating smile he used frequently to woo the ladies.
His dick was a thick, stubby seven inches, and much
darker than the rest of his brown skin. Jacob guessed
most girls would be glad to get their hands on a dick
like Charlie's, but it looked absurdly small next to
Solomon's wakened monster.
Showing none of Solomon's nervousness, Charlie grabbed
the back of Nelson's neck, pulling the boy's mouth off
Solomon's dick and replacing it with his own rock-hard,
circumcised dick. Nelson took Charlie's manhood easily
into his mouth, sucking up and down the shaft with
gleeful ease.
The three teenage boys stood like that for what felt
like an hour, stiffly but closely together in a row,
pants in crumpled piles around their bare feet. Nelson
took turns gulping down each of the boy's dicks,
choking and slobbering with delight. While one boy
enjoyed the intense pleasure of his attention, the
other two continued stroking eagerly, sometimes
shutting their eyes in solitary reflection, at other
times guiltily staring at the dick of the friend being
sucked at the time.
Eager to see how far he could push the boundaries of
his buddies' curiosity, Nelson suddenly stood and
looked at his dizzy, horny friends with a mischievous
smile. He unbuckled his own pants, locking eyes with
the other boys as he did so. He dropped his pants to
his ankles, but didn't step out of them. His own seven
and a half inch ebony-colored cock jutted from his body
at an angle almost parallel to the stable's dirt floor.
Still smiling devilishly at his friends, Nelson snorted
a huge wad of spit into his mouth, then spit it
directly into the palm of his right hand. Still
standing, he then reached behind his back and began
rubbing the spit into the crack of his ass. Without a
word, Nelson grabbed one of the four stools on which
the boys had been sitting, and placed it in the middle
of that particular room in the stable. He then bent
over, pushed the smooth shiny half-globes of his black
ass toward his buddies, and grabbed the stool firmly in
both hands for support.
Jacob was embarrassed to admit it, but Nelson's taut,
hairless ass looked as round and inviting as any he'd
ever seen on a girl. For a second he worried about
getting shit on his dick, but figured Nelson knew what
he was doing and wouldn't tempt them if he weren't
confident they'd enjoy themselves. The three weeks
without pussy and three days without shooting his load
had worked Jacob into a horny frenzy. He knew his
friends were too proud to go first, so he thought "what
the hell," stepped out of his pants, and walked over to
Nelson's welcoming buttocks, hard dick grasped eagerly
in hand.
He stood there uncertainly at first, naked from the
waist down. He imagined one fucked a boy's ass probably
the same way one mounted a girl's pussy from behind.
With his hands he grabbed Nelson's hips, partly covered
by the boy's ragged shirt. He then pulled Nelson's ass
toward his crotch and clumsily began poking his hungry
dick into the dark crack of his friend's ass.
Having trouble finding his desired target, Jacob spread
Nelson's ass-cheeks with both hands until he could see
the small, black-purplish ring of his buddy's asshole.
It was the first male asshole he'd ever seen, but Jacob
thought it didn't look all that different from those
he'd seen on girls, visible and winking sometimes when
he entered them from behind.
Nelson's asshole was glistening with the spit he'd just
smeared around it. Jacob could smell the distinct funky
odor of a teenage boy's sweaty ass, but it didn't smell
like shit or anything foul like that. Better than the
way a lot of girls' pussies smelled, he thought with
amusement.
Impatient to release his pent-up load, Jacob showed
Nelson no tenderness as he pressed his dick against the
boy's tight opening and forced his way in with an
aggressive thrust. Nelson's body lurched forward to
escape the intrusion, then slowly eased backwards,
swallowing Jacob's dick deeper and deeper as it moved.
Nelson grunted in pain and surprise at the violence of
the first entry.
For a second, Jacob felt like a 13-year-old virgin all
over again, strange and embarrassed to have his dick
suddenly shoved up his friend's shit-hole. But his
experience and talent quickly took over, urged on by
the warm, squishy grip of his buddy's insides. Soon
Jacob was bucking wildly in and out of Nelson's half-
naked body, and the slurping, sucking, mini-farting
sounds of ass-fucking filled the quiet night air. These
were joined by Nelson's deep grunts and groans as his
body rocked forward with every one of Jacob's
aggressive thrusts.
At one point Jacob pumped into Nelson so furiously that
it knocked the stool from out of his hands. Solomon and
Charlie laughed, but Jacob only sped up his fucking,
forcing Nelson to rest both hands on his knees while
Jacob held him by the hips and slammed into him from
behind, Nelson's pants still in a pile around his naked
feet.
Solomon and Charlie were still standing and stroking
their dicks, watching the scene before them with a
mixture of surprise, disgust, and fascination.
Jacob knew it was gross to be fucking a guy, but when
he closed his eyes and imagined Nelson was a girl, he
really couldn't tell any difference. Jacob thought to
himself that for a boy who'd probably been butt-fucked
dozens if not hundreds of times in his young life,
Nelson still had a remarkably tight asshole. In fact,
Nelson hadn't lied... his asshole actually felt hotter
and tighter even than the handful of virgins Jacob had
been lucky enough to deflower.
Soon the new yet familiar pleasures thrilling Jacob's
body took him to the mental place where sex mingled
with violence and lust turned to hatred. He lunged his
body brutally into his friend, increasing the frequency
and intensity of his thrusts to such a breakneck speed
that even the experienced Nelson screamed out in
surprise and protest. Jacob was deaf to his partner's
cries, however, and continued pummeling the body before
him as if were every ugly, spiteful white man that had
ever hurt or insulted him.
Eventually he felt rising from deep within his balls
the build-up of the past three days, the physical and
psychological release he so desperately craved. Digging
his fingers tightly into Nelson's slender hips, Jacob
pulled the boy's ass firmly toward him, forcing his
thick eight inches deep into his buddy's bowels. He
stopped his thrusting and held Nelson's body still in
that position as he pumped a geyser of hot, thick-white
cum into his friend's thirsty asshole. He felt his body
slowly depleted of all repressed frustration and
hostility, until it was gradually replaced with a
pleasant, restful calm.
When he was confident every last drop had been
swallowed into his friend's rectum, Jacob withdrew his
half-hard dick, slimy with spit, cum, and a few specks
of shit. Jacob's euphoria was so intense that at that
point he no longer cared. He collapsed half-naked on a
bale of hay in the corner of the room.
Solomon, now more confident and comfortable than
earlier, wasted no time moving in to take Jacob's
place. With the lubrication of Jacob's cum, now leaking
out of Nelson's panting asshole, Solomon's gigantic
dick had no trouble entering his friend's ravaged
backside. It still had a good three inches of
unexplored tunnel, however, and Nelson moaned loudly as
Solomon forced his way deeper into Nelson's ass than
most men could ever dream of being.
Solomon looked awkward at first, but like Jacob he
rapidly adjusted to the new pleasure of fucking another
male's asshole. His height made the current position
uncomfortable, however, so he pushed Nelson to his
knees on the dirt floor, then flat on his stomach
against the ground. With both hands pressed against the
floor several inches above Nelson's head, Solomon lay
himself parallel to his buddy's body as if he were
about to do push-ups, his lanky arms rippling with
teenage muscles beneath his cotton shirt.
Once comfortable in his new position, Solomon pushed
his dick once again into the warm, wet cavern of
Nelson's ass. He fucked with long, slow strokes, each
time burying his eleven-inch manhood deep into his
friend's guts until his curly jungle of black pubic
hairs smashed against the sweaty clenched muscles of
Nelson's ass-cheeks. Nelson tucked his head beneath his
arms to muffle his moans of pain mingled with ecstasy.
From where he sat in the corner, Jacob had a full view
of Solomon's smooth golden buttocks as they rose up and
down above Nelson's prostrate body. Against Jacob's
conscious will, his dick stirred to renewed life at the
sight. He was confused and embarrassed to realize that
he was drooling over his best friend's ass like it was
a piece of good pussy.
Never before in his life had Jacob ever looked at
Solomon's ass that way. He'd seen it hundreds of times
at the swimming-hole growing up, but it had never held
any interest for him whatsoever, sexual or otherwise.
But now as he watched the muscles of both ass-cheeks
clench and ripple with every downward thrust, Jacob
remembered how good Nelson's ass had felt just moments
before, and imagined how much tighter, firmer, and
hotter Solomon's virgin ass would feel wrapped around
his own meaty eight inches.
Jacob's dick rose to a full erection, but he knew he
could only dream of plundering his best friend's
masculine, untouched asshole. It didn't matter how
close they were, Solomon would sure as hell punch him
in the face before letting Jacob anywhere NEAR his ass
with a hard dick. That knowledge didn't stop him from
enjoying the sight before him, and stroking his dick,
still greasy from Nelson's insides, as he did so.
His dick now eager for a second release, Jacob jumped
to his feet and walked over to where Nelson was
sprawled on the ground. He kneeled uncomfortably and
stretched his legs wider and lower until his dick fit
nicely into Nelson's mouth, muffling the boy's moans as
Solomon continued with his slow but brutally deep
strokes. Nelson wrinkled his nose in disgust when he
realized he was licking a dick still covered in his own
ass-slime, but quickly surrendered to the humiliation
and resumed his greedy sucking.
Jacob's new position placed him in an awkwardly close
proximity to Solomon's body. Solomon's upper-body
arched upward as his hips thrust downward, his hands
pressed into Nelson's upper back for support. Squatting
with his crotch stuffed in Nelson's face, Jacob found
his own face perilously close to Solomon's, so close
that he could see and smell the sweat from his friend's
light-gold forehead dripping onto the shirt covering
Nelson's back.
At first they were both careful to avoid eye contact,
uncomfortable with this strange and sudden intimacy.
Motivated by lust and alcohol, Jacob eventually dared
to lock eyes with his best friend. The two teenage boys
stared into each other's eyes, uneasily at first, then
with the intense affection of a lifetime's friendship.
It was erotic beyond Jacob's wildest imagination to
look at Solomon in this way - so new and yet seemingly
so natural - as they both penetrated opposite ends of
Nelson's body.
Jacob was shocked to find himself staring at Solomon's
red, wet lips, the lower lip bitten in concentration as
Solomon pushed in and out of the ass beneath him. Jacob
wondered what it would be like to kiss them, then tried
to shake the thought from his mind. Fuck, he thought to
himself. Three weeks without pussy and he was already
turning sissy.
But hadn't he always had a strong curiosity to try new
things? Hadn't he always tried to take the most
pleasure he could from his wretched life? So why should
this moment be any different?
The wisps of dark fuzz on Solomon's upper lip drew him
like a magnet. Jacob leaned a couple inches closer,
wondering how his best friend would react. Solomon
turned his head away and closed his eyes, focused
intently on the pleasure of Nelson's bubble butt
slurping tightly on his long pole of a dick. Jacob
realized with disappointment and embarrassment that
kissing his friend was out of the question.
Urged on by the wet sucking noises and occasional
gagging of Nelson's mouth, Jacob suddenly leaned in and
rested his head clumsily and nervously against
Solomon's shoulder. He could feel and smell Solomon's
sweat slowly soaking through the thin scratchy material
of his shirt.
His friend stiffened but didn't push him away. They
remained locked in that awkward but tender embrace for
several minutes. Jacob inhaled the scent of his best
friend's breath and skin as he enjoyed the feel of
Nelson's thick wet lips wrapped around his dick. For
the first time in his life, Jacob felt the onset of
orgasm without hatred or aggression. He felt nothing
but intense love for his lifelong friend, and grateful
pleasure from Nelson's talented mouth.
Solomon lasted longer than Jacob had the first time,
but eventually shuddered to an intense climax, spitting
out streams of cum to join Jacob's spunk still sloshing
around Nelson's rectum. Seconds later, Jacob spurted
five ropes of creamy cum down Nelson's open throat, his
head still laying on Solomon's bony warm shoulder.
Like Jacob before him, Solomon had no interest in any
further intimacy with the friend he'd just fucked. He
gently slid out from beneath Jacob's head, pulled his
dick out of Nelson's ass, stood up, cleaned off his
dick with a dirty rag hanging nearby, then hastily
returned to his pants and pulled them back on.
Charlie was still rock-hard and stroking, but shook his
head "no" when Nelson wearily looked back to see if he
wanted to take his turn. Apparently the idea of ass-
fucking was still dirty and unappealing, even for his
horny inebriated mind.
Nelson stood and walked over to him, cum dripping from
his ass to the floor, then kneeled to take Charlie's
thick, stumpy pole in his mouth. Charlie fucked
Nelson's mouth like the other two boys had fucked
Nelson's ass, and within a minute or two began
unloading spurts of runny cum into his friend's
enthusiastic mouth.
Timed almost perfectly with Charlie's climax, Nelson
oozed out a seemingly endless stream of thick cum that
ran sluggishly down his dick into a creamy white puddle
on the stable's dirt floor. He swallowed every last
drop of the load Charlie had deposited in his mouth,
then lay out on the ground in a satisfied heap.
All four boys remained silent after their explosive
climaxes. Everybody was afraid to break the hypnotic
spell that had made what they'd done seem okay. Nelson
was the first to break the silence with a quiet
chuckle. His chuckle turned into heaving, full-bodied
laughter. The other three boys looked at him as if he'd
lost his mind, then one by one joined him in his
hearty, reassuring laughter. It was laughter of
disbelief in what they'd just done together, but also a
laughter that told the others everything was going to
be fine, that they'd leave the stable that night with
their manhood and friendship intact and unquestioned.
It had now been nearly two years since that strange
night, and based on outward appearances, Jacob
sometimes wondered if he'd imagined the whole thing.
Nobody had spoken of it since, at least not as a group,
and they hadn't repeated the night's experimentation no
matter how drunk the four of them got together.
Charlie was loaned out to another plantation and only
returned to Stampley a couple times a year. Solomon
took up with a new girl named Cora, and a few months
later the two of them jumped the broom.
Jacob still let Nelson blow him every now and then, and
they'd even fucked in the hayloft a dozen or more times
in the past two years, but the rumors of Jacob's
infection eventually passed and he returned to pussy on
a regular basis. His encounters with Nelson were always
fun, but deep down Jacob knew he'd always prefer girls.
There was something about their softness and breasts
and plump, jiggling asses that Jacob always missed when
fucking Nelson.
Still, he couldn't deny there were times now and then
when he'd find himself picturing Solomon's muscled,
light-skinned ass or dark upper-lip whiskers as he
pumped his dick in and out of a girl's mouth or pussy,
in those moments wishing, if only for a guilty second,
that his best friend's mouth or ass was the warm
receptacle for his hungry cock that night.
These forbidden fantasies were at the forefront of his
mind as he lay awake on this particular night, waiting
for the sound of Laney's heavy breathing in the bed
across the room so he could stroke off a quick release
before falling asleep.
A booming knock on the door disturbed his thoughts. It
was the overseer Richardson, drunk and mumbling
something about Jacob needing to have the wagon ready
for the new Master at dawn the next morning. Something
about accompanying him on a three-day trip to Columbus
and back.
Richardson slammed the door and howled drunkenly at the
moon as he walked back to the overseer quarters,
oblivious to the dozens of exhausted slave parents and
frightened slave children he was waking from their
desperately-needed rest.
Fuck, Jacob thought angrily. That's just what I fucking
need right now: three days without pussy, driving
around Master Walt's sissy-ass nephew to God only knows
what corners of Georgia.
The news spoiled Jacob's mood for a quick jerk-off. He
eventually fell into a restless and troubled sleep,
dreading yet another day of forced service to the white
folks he despised.
***
Any and all feedback is welcome and desired! I would
love to hear advice on how my writing might improve,
characters or scenes you particularly enjoy,
suggestions for future characters or storylines,
stories and fantasies of your own, and anything else
you might want to share. E-mail me at
WannabeWhitman@yahoo.com.
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a
fellow convict in their local prison.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 46