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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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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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The Adventures of Stampley Plantation - 9
by WannabeWhitman (WannabeWhitman07@yahoo.com)
***
"A Northern Abolitionist inherits his Uncle's Georgia
plantation, along with its slaves, and discovers the
many temptations and pleasures his new lifestyle
provides. Realizing his power over the plantation's
boys and men, he slowly abandons his conscience and
surrenders to lust and obsession..." (previous
installments can be found in directory 46.) (Mm, 1st,
hist, intr, nc, reluc)
***
NOTE TO READERS: This is an ongoing series about
slavery in the antebellum South. It includes non-
consensual sex (sometimes with minors) and the use of
racial epithets. The material is mostly of a homosexual
nature, but includes some bisexual themes. If you think
any of this might offend you, DO NOT READ. I realize
some material may be offensive or unappealing to some
readers, but nobody is forcing you to read it.
The series covers a wide range of sexual expression,
however, so just because you dislike one chapter
doesn't mean you won't enjoy others. 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, and
I aim to be as realistic as possible, 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.
If you're enjoying this series, please let me know! I'd
love to hear constructive criticism, 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 WannabeWhitman07@yahoo.com.
If you share my obsession with the beauty and sexuality
of black males, check out my Google group! Explore your
TABOO fantasies about black males: slavery,
domination/submission, economic coercion, police &
prison scenes, adult/youth themes, and more. Discuss
your forbidden fantasies, share photos, and post erotic
stories. This is NOT your average interracial group.
Stay away if easily offended!
http://groups.google.com/group/black-boy-addiction/
***
Chapter 8: The Plantation Puppeteer
Two days earlier...
Elijah and Thad stumbled out of the Big House like
newborn calves struggling to stand on wobbling legs.
Neither boy spoke a word as they walked toward the
slave cabins. They were stunned and shamed by what
they'd just suffered at the hands of their new Master,
and their youth and innocence left them tragically
unprepared to process such troubling emotions. The
peace and quiet of a normal sunny afternoon presented a
sharp contrast to the dark depravities they'd just
endured, and the cheerful sounds of birds chirping and
leaves rustling in the wind seemed to mock their
disturbed states of mind.
Elijah had left the Big House with a heavy heart on
many afternoons, but today his shame and sadness was
far more severe than usual. Before today, he'd always
felt dirty and disgusted on his hikes back to the slave
cabins after being molested by Master James. But at
least on those days he could find comfort in the fact
that his shame was SOLITARY, something private and
detached that he could suffer ALONE, separate from his
ordinary life in the slave quarters.
But Master James had spoiled all that by dragging
Elijah's little brother into one of their encounters.
Elijah winced as he recalled his helplessness and
humiliation while Master James groped, fingered, and
raped him in front of the horrified Thad. He fought
back tears as he realized that his role as the strong,
perfect, admired older brother had probably been
forever ruined in Thad's mind by the image of Elijah on
all fours, having a white man's dick shoved in his
shit-hole while he called himself the degrading names
he knew Master James wanted to hear.
But that had been only half of the morning's nightmare.
Elijah's most intense shame came from the fact that
he'd cooperated in Thad's corruption, obeying the
Master's orders to kiss, grope, finger, and fuck his
own innocent little brother. Not only that, but
something deep down inside had caused him to take
PLEASURE in raping his younger brother, bucking into
Thad like a wild horse and shooting his juices deep
into his brother's bony little butt.
Elijah cringed as the memories of Thad's tears and
screams echoed in his mind. He knew his brother's
screams were only partly due to the pain caused by
having his asshole ripped open for the very first time;
they were also screams of disillusionment and betrayal.
Thad had looked to him for leadership and protection.
Thad had probably hoped Elijah would spit in the mean
Master's face and rescue him from such a horrible fate,
running far, far away from the evils of Stampley
Plantation. When Elijah failed to do that, Thad had at
least trusted Elijah's promises to be gentle and
caring, and surrendered for the sake of earning a
reunion with a father he could probably barely
remember. But possessed by some demon of desire, Elijah
had enjoyed Thad's body as enthusiastically and
selfishly as Master James had enjoyed Elijah's own body
so many nights before.
Elijah's shame could no longer be solitary. It would
now overshadow every look, every conversation, every
memory between he and Thad, standing as a constant
source of tension, distrust, and distance between them.
Even if Thad could forgive him, things would never be
the same again.
As the two boys stumbled their way in a gloomy daze
toward the slave quarters, Elijah glanced nervously at
Thad. The younger boy stared sullenly at the ground.
Elijah noticed there were still tearstains on Thad's
toffee-colored cheeks, and some of Master James's dried
spunk still caked in his hair. Instead of skipping
playfully across the grass, Thad dragged his feet
sluggishly and aimlessly forward, like a drunken man
seeking solitude and shelter. In the place of his usual
beaming smile, there was a look of troubled seriousness
far beyond his ten years of age.
"You...you alright, Thad?" Elijah asked gently.
Thad's head jerked up, startled by his brother's voice.
He mumbled something Elijah couldn't understand.
"You wanna use the outhouse?" Elijah asked kindly,
thinking of the urge he usually felt to get rid of the
Master's spunk after his ordeals in the Big House. Only
this time, Elijah thought guiltily, the juices Thad
needed to expel were Elijah's own.
Thad looked embarrassed and irritated, but nodded in
assent. As soon as they reached the outhouses on the
southern edge of the slave cabins, Thad dashed into the
nearest shack.
Elijah leaned against a nearby tree while he waited for
Thad to finish. Now that he was back in the familiar
environment of his everyday life, and aware of the
stench coming from the nearby outhouses, he felt
disbelief and disgust that he'd found his little
brother's bottom even remotely tempting in a sexual
way. In broad daylight, away from Master James's
oppressive presence, Elijah found the idea of putting
his fingers and dick in Thad's shit-hole to be gross
and unnatural.
Maybe the new Master was some kind of white conjure-man
who'd put a spell on him. How else could Elijah explain
that morning's sudden desire to mount his little
brother's ass the way he'd seen Jacob mounting Sophy
that afternoon in the barn?
Several minutes later, Thad exited the outhouse,
avoiding eye contact with his older brother.
"Follow me, Thad," Elijah said. "I'll show you the
secret spot where I always wash up after...after bein'
with Massuh James."
He led his little brother through the woods until they
reached the spot in the creek where none of the other
slave children ever swam or fished.
"This be the best place to wash up without nobody
disturbin' you," Elijah explained.
Thad nodded listlessly, like a boy in the midst of
sleepwalking. He stood staring blankly at the creek in
front of him, hesitating to remove his clothes.
"Well, hurry up, now!" Elijah urged impatiently,
hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt. "We ain't got all day,
Thad. We gotta be back 'fore Mama get home."
Thad shot his older brother a suspicious look, then
slowly unbuttoned his tattered shirt. Elijah hated the
palpable new tension between them. He and Thad had been
naked around each other hundreds of times before, but
this was the first time it had ever felt awkward or
unnatural.
"It hurtin' real bad, ain't it?" Elijah asked
sympathetically. Stripped completely naked, he stepped
into the creek and sank into its cool, soothing
embrace.
Thad's face stiffened in response to Elijah's question.
"Yeah, it hurts somethin' awful," Thad mumbled, still
looking away from his older brother. "It feel like
somethin' on fire down there."
"Yeah, it felt like that for me too, the first time,"
Elijah explained. "Sittin' in the water helps cool it
off, though."
Thad threw his shirt to the ground, yanked his pants to
his ankles, and hurriedly jumped into the creek to hide
his nudity. He gasped in pain as the cool water made
contact with his torn, burning asshole. He bit his
bottom lip to keep from crying in front of his big
brother, but despite his best efforts, salty tears
began streaming down his cheeks.
"C'mon, Thad," Elijah said reassuringly. "Things gonna
be alright, you'll see."
He moved forward to hug his weeping brother, but Thad
recoiled from Elijah's approach.
"I'se sorry, Thad, I promise I'se real sorry," Elijah
said desperately. "You know I love you and ain't wanna
let him hurt you like that. But we SLAVES, Thad,
meanin' we ain't got no choice 'cept to do what Massuh
say."
The tears flowed furiously down Thad's cheeks. Thad
jerked his head up from its sullen scowl, shot his
brother an angry look, and blurted out, "Yeah, but you
ain't have to LIKE it!"
Elijah flinched, painfully aware of the truth in his
brother's accusation.
"No, it ain't like that, Thad," he stuttered.
"Why was you pantin' and moanin', then, huh, 'Lij?"
Thad shot back. "And why was your thing all hard, just
like dogs when they be in heat? And don't think I ain't
feel you shoot that nasty stuff inside me, just like
Massuh did on my back! Looked to me like you was
likin' it just the same as him, and he nothin' but an
ugly, mean white man!"
Thad's tirade trailed off into angry sobs.
Elijah felt like he was trapped in a nightmare. It was
devastating to hear Thad so angry with him, because up
to that point he'd never expressed anything but
affection and admiration for Elijah.
"Naw, it ain't like that, Thad, you gotta believe me!"
Elijah pleaded, feeling even worse knowing it was
partly a lie. "I was puttin' on a show for Massuh
James, that's all, hopin' he'd like it and help us get
Daddy back. I ain't wanna hurt you, but you wanna see
Daddy again, don't you?"
"Yeah," Thad mumbled, sniffling and wiping his nose
with his hand.
"I know what Massuh made us do was nasty," Elijah
continued. "But for some reason he likes doin' gross
things with boys like us, and I was just givin' him
what he wanted. Everything gonna be alright when Daddy
get back, you'll see."
"You tellin' the truth, 'Lij?" Thad asked, his young
voice eager to trust his older brother again. "You
ain't enjoy puttin' your thing inside me?"
"I swear on Mama and Daddy," Elijah declared, sensing
that he was winning Thad over, at least for the moment.
Thad looked skeptical, but shrugged his shoulders and
sighed, "I just hope Massuh don't make us do none of
that nasty stuff ever again. That man give me the
creeps. And my butt hurt so bad I can't hardly walk."
The two boys slipped into silence as they scrubbed
their bodies and washed their hair. As they put their
dirty clothes back on, Elijah turned to Thad, and in a
grave tone of voice warned, "Don't tell Mama, Thad. It
be bad enough she know about me, but if she find out
Massuh been hurtin' you too, it'll prolly kill her."
***
The attempted deceptions of two young boys are no match
for a mother's intuition, and Phoebe had been home no
more than an hour that evening before noticing a
difference in the appearance and behavior of her
youngest child.
She first sensed something was wrong when Thad failed
to greet her with his usual smile and energetic hug
when she returned from working in the fields. Instead,
she came home to both boys sound asleep.
Her uneasiness grew when Thad spoke no more than four
words over supper, a sharp contrast to the lively
stories of his day's adventures that usually
entertained her each night. At first she thought he
might be sick, but he didn't have a fever, or seem to
be in any physical pain...except that he walked sort of
slowly and stiffly.
Sort of the way Elijah had moved after his first night
in the Big House.
At first she pushed the possibility from her mind.
Certainly the new Master couldn't be vile enough to
take pleasure from the body of a boy as young and
undeveloped as Thad! And even if his perversions DID
involve such extremes, what was the likelihood that out
of all the slave boys on Stampley Plantation, he'd
choose BOTH of her sons for his evil purposes?
Phoebe tried to stifle her rising panic when both
Elijah and Thad refused her friendly invitation to join
her in a game of checkers. She was used to such moody
refusals from Elijah, especially since his regular
visits to the Big House. But she couldn't remember a
single time Thad had responded to such an offer with
anything but beaming grins and celebratory acrobatics
around the kitchen table.
"What's the matter, baby?" Phoebe asked, pulling Thad
into her arms and stroking his crispy hair with her
hands. She tried not to let her voice betray the
hysteria rising within her chest.
"Nothin'," Thad mumbled, staring at the ground.
Phoebe had never known her son to be evasive or avoid
eye contact.
"You get in a fight today, baby?" she asked,
desperately hoping the answer was "yes."
Thad shook his head "no." His body was stiff beneath
her touch, and Phoebe noticed a rogue tear running down
his cheek.
That was all she needed to confirm her darkest fears.
She released Thad from her embrace, and staggered up
from her seat. The room was spinning around her. She
clutched the back of a chair and shot a quizzical look
in Elijah's direction. Elijah pretended to play with a
centipede crawling across the cabin's dirt floor.
"That bastard fetched Thad up to the Big House, didn't
he?!?" Phoebe could barely choke out the question.
Elijah looked up with an expression that revealed
everything.
What happened next was a nightmarish blur in Elijah's
memory. His mother let out the most heartbreaking
shriek he'd ever heard in his life, then collapsed to
the floor in convulsive sobs.
"Not my baby boy..." she wailed over and over. "Not my
little Thad, not my baby boy!"
The sobbing was followed by more hysterical screaming.
Phoebe had survived years of sexual abuse at the hands
of smelly, violent overseers. She'd endured the sale of
her husband to another plantation. She'd even stayed
strong when her 14-year-old son had been snatched away
to be the sexual plaything of the new Master, standing
helplessly by while his innocence and zest for life was
slowly snuffed out before her very eyes. She'd told
herself there was nothing the white devils could do to
spoil the joy she felt because of her two sons, short
of selling Elijah and Thad away from her.
But her imagination was no match for the white folks'
perversions, and Phoebe hadn't considered the
possibility of them snatching away Thad's innocence, at
least not for several more years.
This was too much, she thought to herself. This was it,
her breaking point. She'd rather be raped a dozen times
a day for the rest of her life, if it meant she would
spare her little boy his suffering at the hands of the
lecherous new Master. The thought of the white man
raping her young and helpless son broke her heart and
filled her with a desperate, wild rage.
"Not my little boy..." she muttered over and over, only
now it took on a more threatening tone.
All rationality completely fled her mind. She stood up
and looked frantically around the room, seeking out any
object she could use to inflict pain, and hopefully
DEATH, on the new Master. If she ran fast enough, she
could grab the poking stick from the fire, storm the
Big House, and burn out the new Master's eyes while he
ate supper. Then she would set the entire plantation-
house ablaze. If she was lucky, she could run away with
Thad and Elijah before any of the house slaves or
overseers discovered her crime.
She continued exhaling explosive screams, venting her
rage as she yanked the poking-stick from the fire.
"Calm down, Mama!" Elijah pleaded. This was a side of
his mother he'd never seen, and it scared him. He could
hear Thad crying in the background. "Massuh James gonna
help us get Daddy back! But he axed to meet Thad
first...so we HAD to do it, Mama, to help get Daddy
back!"
Phoebe whirled around, still holding the flaming
poking-stick. A brief, intense look of compassion
passed across her face. Then she burst into cackling,
maniacal laughter, which then morphed into mournful
wailing.
"Oh baby, my poor baby," she moaned. "White folks ain't
nothin' but thieves and liars, 'Lij. White men'll
promise you gold and heaven if they think it'll help
'em have they way with you. Your Daddy ain't never
comin' back, baby."
Elijah collapsed on his bed in stunned defeat, next to
the sobbing Thad.
Phoebe took a deep breath and wiped her nose with her
free hand.
"But the new Massuh's 'bout to be ONE white man who
gonna PAY for his sins."
Still holding the fiery poking-stick, Phoebe stormed
out the front door and proceeded to march down the
center lane between the slave cabins, toward the Big
House.
By this time, people were coming out of their cabins to
see what all the screams were about. Penny - Lil
Rooster's mother, who lived with her husband in the
cabin next door to Phoebe's - was one of the first to
see Phoebe rushing toward the Big House, and she knew
something terrible was about to happen. Not wanting to
see her friend whipped or hanged, Penny ran after
Phoebe, and tackled her to the ground. The tussle to
the ground extinguished the poking-stick's flame, and
Phoebe eventually surrendered into Penny's sympathetic
arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
Penny took Phoebe into Penny's own cabin, where she
fixed the distraught woman a hot drink made with local
healing herbs. She later informed Elijah that his
mother had taken on a serious fever, and that it would
be best if she spent the next several nights in Penny's
cabin, where she'd be under constant supervision and
prevented from doing anything dangerous or suicidal.
To make room for Phoebe in Penny's cabin, her two sons,
Lil Rooster and Spider, would need to stay with Elijah
and Thad.
***
When Penny escorted her two sons into Elijah's cabin
later that night, kissing them goodnight and
instructing them to behave, Lil Rooster responded with
a quiet, obedient "Yes, Mama." But the instant the
cabin door shut behind her, he turned immediately back
into his typically loud, cocky, obnoxious self.
"So I guess the rumors be true, about you bein' the new
Massuh's pussy-boy and all," he said matter-of-factly,
grinning and straddling backwards one of the kitchen
chairs.
Spider, a skinny little boy about Thad's age, with the
same piercing blue eyes, high cheekbones, "good" raven-
black hair, and high-yellow skin as his older brother,
sat quietly on the bed next to the sniffling Thad. He
wasn't sure what to say to comfort his friend.
Thad shot Lil Rooster an angry scowl, thinking about
their recent fight.
"Damn, 'Lij," Lil Rooster continued, shifting his chair
to face Elijah, who sat sullenly on Phoebe's bed in the
corner of the cabin. "They told me the new Massuh like
nigger-boys 'stead of pussy, but I ain't wanna believe
it. I see now it ain't no lie. Yo' Mama done lost her
damn mind, and seem to me there's only but one reason
for it."
"Shut your ugly yellow mouth 'bout my Mama!" Elijah
blurted out, standing up as if to fight. Elijah was
used to Lil Rooster always running his mouth, but
somehow they'd managed to remain friends. But now Lil
Rooster was taking things too far.
"Calm down, 'Lij, calm down," Lil Rooster said,
laughing and flashing a wide mouth full of pretty white
teeth. "Damn, boy, I see the new Massuh already done
turned you into a little bitch, whinin' and cryin' like
you ain't got no balls 'tween yo' legs."
Elijah slumped back down on the bed with a scowl on his
face.
Lil Rooster's words hit a nerve, partly because he and
the other slave boys always felt embarrassed next to
Lil Rooster when they'd swim together naked in the
creek, their own dicks looking like tiny worms compared
to Lil Rooster's gigantic gorilla. But his words also
struck a nerve because they articulated Elijah's own
sense that Master James had somehow stolen a part of
his manhood that first night his asshole was forced
open by the white man's dick, and had continued
destroying his masculine pride and confidence with
every degrading act he'd been subjected to since then.
"So what it like, bein' a pussy-boy for the new
Massuh?" Lil Rooster asked.
Even though Lil Rooster was grinning from ear to ear,
Elijah thought he detected a hint of anxiety behind the
question.
"Ain't none of your business!" Thad blurted out
angrily.
"What you gonna do, fight me again?" Lil Rooster asked,
laughing.
Spider shifted nervously on the bed, torn between
defending his friend and laughing along with his older
brother.
"You a feisty little nigger, Thad, and I can respect
that," Lil Rooster continued. "Too bad the new Massuh's
gotta go and make a little girl outta you."
"I ain't no girl!" Thad shouted defiantly. But the
memory of being forced to all fours while Elijah
mounted him from behind taunted him far worse than
anything Lil Rooster could have said.
"If you suck dick and take it up your booty-hole, you a
little bitch to my mind," Lil Rooster declared. "
'Specially if it be a white man's dick. Hell, ain't no
cracker dick comin' anywhere CLOSE to this nigger!"
Elijah chuckled dryly to himself.
"Somethin' funny about that, pussy-boy?" Lil Rooster
asked.
"Yeah, YOU'SE funny," Elijah explained, shaking his
head. "You be talkin' all 'white man' this, and
'cracker' that, when YOU'SE nearly a white boy
yo'self!"
Lil Rooster's bullying grin turned into a surprised
frown. Even though he and Elijah were the same age, he
always behaved like the older of the two, and he didn't
like having the roles reversed.
"Just LOOK at yo'self," Elijah continued, sensing he
had the upper hand, at least for the moment. "You
nearly just as white as Mistuh Snopes. You think you
some full-blooded African just cuz you got a big ol'
dick 'tween yo' legs? Ain't nobody come from Africa
lookin' yellow as you is! You lucky Massuh James only
likes hisself some REAL niggers, cuz you sho ain't
that."
For a second, Lil Rooster was speechless. He was used
to his blue eyes, high-yellow skin, and silky dark hair
being admired and envied by dark-skinned niggers. His
light complexion meant he was a SUPERIOR nigger; he
didn't like to think it might mean he was somehow LESS
THAN other niggers...or even worse, WHITE.
"FUCK you!" was the first thing Lil Rooster could think
to say in response, his nostrils flaring in defensive
anger. "At least I ain't some nappy-headed, monkey-
lookin', cocksuckin', dick-takin', pussy-boy nigger
like you is!"
Elijah sensed things were spiraling out of control. He
and Lil Rooster had put each other through plenty of
good-natured ribbing before, but this felt different.
There was a rising hostility in the exchange that made
him feel sad and regretful, like he was losing his best
friend.
"Take it easy, Roost," Elijah said nervously. "I ain't
mean nothin' by it. 'Sides, you the one started it."
But Lil Rooster was too hotheaded to calm down after
having his good looks insulted.
"'Take it easy, take it easy,'" he said, mocking
Elijah's peace-making with an obnoxious lisp. "Just
listen to you, backin' off from a fight like a little
sissy. Hell, your little brother more a man than you
is! I guess that's cuz you used to bein' on yo' knees
suckin' Massuh's dick all day long!"
"Shut up," Elijah mumbled, wanting this nightmare of a
day to be over with.
"Maybe I DO got some white in me," Lil Rooster
persisted. "But at least I ain't never had no DICK in
me! Never sucked no dick, and sho as hell never will.
And my booty-hole ain't but for one thing, and it sho
ain't bein' used like pussy. Hell, if that cracker even
THINKS of touchin' on me, he best be ready to lose an
eye first! Cuz I damn sho ain't no pussy-boy like you
or that nigger Nelson. You know Nelson?"
Elijah nodded. He only knew what Nelson looked like,
but he'd never noticed anything weird or bad about him.
"They say Nelson was a pussy-boy too," Lil Rooster
continued. "'Fore Massuh Walt bought him. And I heard
some other niggers talkin' 'bout how he STILL like
doin' that nasty shit. They say he be offerin' to suck
niggers' dicks, like the white folks done turned him
into a dick-suckin' ZOMBIE or some shit like that. Is
that what you is?"
Elijah blushed a deep purple. "It... it ain't like
that," he struggled to explain.
He felt a sudden need to prove to his friend, and
perhaps to himself, that he had no choice but to
cooperate with Master James's demands.
"It ain't that easy. You got no idea what the new
Massuh be like, Roost. The first night he...the first
night we was together...he told me he was gonna whip
Mama and Thad and sell 'em away from me 'less I did
what I was told."
Elijah's eyes welled up with tears as he recalled the
confusion and trauma of that first night in Master
James's bedroom.
"He just be sayin' that shit to scare you into givin'
it up," Lil Rooster scoffed, ignoring Elijah's tears.
"Ain't nobody can put they dick in yo' mouth or ass
'less you let 'em. So all's I can figure is that you
LIKE that nasty shit. That true, 'Lij? You like dick
'stead of pussy?"
"No," Elijah mumbled, still trying to fight back the
tears building up in response to the day's tragic
events - the ordeal in Master James's bedroom, the new
and awful distance between he and Thad, his mother's
nervous breakdown, and now the realization that his
best friend had turned on him.
"Huh?" Lil Rooster taunted, standing up from the chair
he'd been straddling. "I can't hear you. I axed if you
like DICK 'stead of pussy, nigger."
"Leave him alone!" Thad shouted, feeling sorry for his
older brother.
"Yeah, leave him be, Roost," Spider's high-pitched
voice chimed in.
But these interruptions only encouraged Lil Rooster to
take his verbal assault even further.
"Now see, ME...I likes the taste of pussy," Lil Rooster
boasted. "But sounds to me like you likes the taste of
big, sweaty dick. Hell, you prolly droolin' over mine
right now!"
Lil Rooster smiled the smile that had seduced dozens of
slave girls and women, grabbed his crotch with his
right hand, and shoved it forward with a playful, cocky
thrust.
Elijah looked away, embarrassed and uncomfortable.
"Awwww, c'mon now, baby, don't be shy," Lil Rooster
teased. "You know you been wantin' a taste."
Lil Rooster yanked down the front of his tattered
cotton pants, and pulled out his notoriously large
dick. Even though all three boys had seen Lil Rooster's
penis plenty of times before, they stared in wide-eyed
awe and envy. Beneath a curly patch of coal-black pubic
hair, hung a dick that rivaled the length and girth of
most horses. It was a rich, golden hue, darker than the
rest of Lil Rooster's skin, and circumcised.
Lil Rooster laughed at Elijah's blatant staring. "Look
at you, droolin' over my dick like it's Christmas
dinner! You really IS a cocksucker! Now let's see just
how GOOD a little cocksucker you is."
He stepped forward and jiggled his huge appendage just
inches from Elijah's face. Elijah squeezed his eyes and
lips shut in resistance and embarrassment. Lil Rooster
moved even closer, and rubbed his soft, sweaty dick
against Elijah's thick purple lips.
"You like that, bitch?" Lil Rooster taunted. "You like
lickin' balls too? Or just lickin' ass?"
Both Thad and Spider scrunched up their noses in
disgust. Ass-licking was an activity from which Thad
had thankfully been spared that morning, and he
couldn't imagine anybody, even Master James, wanting to
do something THAT gross.
"I just loves havin' my balls and booty-hole licked,"
Lil Rooster continued his obnoxious performance. "I
betcha the new Massuh done trained you to lick balls
and booty-holes REAL good, huh?"
"Leave me alone!" Elijah blurted out, ducking away from
Lil Rooster's dick. He exploded into loud, wrenching
sobs. He flopped onto his stomach and buried his face
in his mother's blanket, shaking with uncontrollable
tears.
Lil Rooster pulled up his pants in an arrogant gesture
of victory.
"Damn, boy, I was just playin' witchu." He laughed
nervously and looked over at Thad and Spider. Thad
glared at him resentfully, and Spider looked awkwardly
at the ground.
"That right there, boys," Lil Rooster said, pointing at
Elijah's body, now curled into the fetal position and
still heaving with sobs, "is what they calls a PUSSY-
BOY."
***
Elijah cried himself to sleep that night. It was a
restless night's sleep, thanks to the fact that he had
to share his mother's bed with Lil Rooster, whose lanky
legs kept kicking him throughout the night. He also had
to suffer through the sounds of the snoring Spider, who
took Elijah's usual spot in the bed with Thad.
Both Elijah and Thad spent the majority of the next day
in bed, while Lil Rooster and Spider joined the other
slave children in their normal outdoor games. Thad and
Elijah felt sapped of all motivation to do anything
beyond sleeping, eating, and using the outhouse.
At several points throughout the day, Elijah ventured
sleepily over to the cabin next door to check on his
mother, who was being nursed by one of the elderly
slave women while Penny and her husband worked in the
fields. But every time, he was shooed away by the nurse
because his mother was sound asleep.
Elijah felt like his life was spinning out of control.
All the comforts of family, home, and friendship had
been snatched away, replaced by instability and sorrow.
Every time someone passed by his cabin's door, Elijah's
body grew tense with anxiety, wondering if it would be
an overseer fetching him or Thad back to the Big House.
When night approached and there was still no word from
Master James, Elijah breathed a sigh of relief and
hoped it was a sign that the white man was keeping his
promise to find their father, despite what his mother
had screamed about such promises being empty lies.
Lil Rooster didn't return to the cabin until well past
midnight. He reeked of whiskey and bragged about how
he'd just fucked Laney in her cabin while her brother
Jacob was with the new Master on an overnight trip to
Columbus.
Elijah winced with jealousy at the mention of Laney's
name, wishing it had been HIM enjoying the pretty girl
instead of a cocky jerk like Lil Rooster. But petty
jealousy was quickly forgotten when he heard the news
that Master James was taking an out-of-town trip.
Elijah's heart skipped a beat when he realized this
meant that perhaps Master James was keeping his promise
after all. Perhaps he'd return with Daddy, Elijah
thought excitedly, and everything would return to
normal.
Hopeful daydreams kept Elijah awake for several hours,
but eventually he fell into a deep but troubled sleep.
He dreamed of flashbacks to the previous morning: Thad
was naked and on all fours, screaming and crying while
Elijah thrust his dick into his little brother's butt.
Despite Thad's cries of pain, Elijah was enjoying a
pleasure more intense than any he'd ever experienced.
He wished he could enjoy the warm, squishy ecstasy of
Thad's tight little ass for hours on end...
Elijah jerked awake, and felt guiltily disappointed
that he'd only been dreaming. His rock-hard dick tented
against his cotton pants. He knew such behavior was
wrong and repulsive; but to his dick, it was an
addictive pleasure he was eager to experience again.
What the hell's wrong with me? Elijah thought to
himself, sleepily rubbing his eyes. What kind of person
dreams about fucking his little brother? Still, he
couldn't deny it had felt good, far better than jerking
himself off had ever felt. Part of him, way deep down,
almost hoped Master James would order him to do it
again. The idea of never enjoying Thad's ass again was
disturbingly depressing. Was Master James's desire for
boys some kind of contagious sickness that he'd passed
on to Elijah? Two days ago, the idea of putting his
dick in Thad's shit-hole would have been nauseating.
But now he was wide awake in the middle of the night,
craving that very same thing. Maybe Lil Rooster was
RIGHT, and he really WAS turning into a "pussy-boy."
Elijah looked over to see if Lil Rooster was still
asleep. The moonlight coming through the cabin windows
illuminated the body of the shirtless teenage boy. Lil
Rooster was lying flat on his stomach, his head turned
away from Elijah, snoring in a drunken slumber. Elijah
noticed that at some point during the night, Lil
Rooster's pants had been pushed partway down, so that
the upper slopes of the boy's round ass-cheeks, and the
top inches of his ass-crack, were exposed.
Elijah stared as if hypnotized by the sight. Before
tonight, he'd never given a second's thought to his
friend's ass. But tonight it suddenly fascinated him as
a thing of great beauty, an irresistible temptation.
Transfixed, Elijah turned on his side to take a longer,
closer look at his best friend's ass. It was definitely
fuller and more muscular than Thad's bony little butt.
A sheen of sweat spread across Lil Rooster's back,
glistening in the moonlight and continuing into the
crevice of the teenage boy's ass-crack.
The sweat suggested warmth and moisture, and for a
brief moment Elijah wondered what it would feel like to
bury his dick between Lil Rooster's firm, sweaty
mounds. Perhaps pushing even deeper, into the tiny
clenched circle hidden between, shoving into the boy's
hot, forbidden insides. Elijah's dick hardened as he
wondered if Lil Rooster's ass would feel as good as
Thad's...perhaps even BETTER?
What the hell am I thinking? Elijah reflected with
shame and confusion. Lil Rooster's ass was probably
filthy and smelly, certainly not something worth
staring at or getting a hard-on about. He should be
dreaming about Laney's soft, pert breasts, or the
mysterious area between her legs, not salivating over
his best friend's ass.
Elijah felt an intense hatred for Master James, who'd
poisoned his innocent mind with such disgusting ideas.
But like it or not, the ideas were there, and hard as
he tried, he couldn't shake them out of his head long
enough to fall back asleep.
In fact, Elijah felt a sudden, irresistible urge to
reach out and touch Lil Rooster's butt. He was suddenly
possessed with the curiosity to FEEL the shape, skin,
and firmness of the half-naked ass just inches away.
Maybe he could do it gently and quietly enough that the
sleeping boy would never know. Thad and Spider were
sound asleep on the other side of the room, and Lil
Rooster had been so drunk that even AWAKE he probably
wouldn't know what was happening.
Elijah's dick twitched with excitement at the idea of
cupping Lil Rooster's half-bare ass in his hand. The
room seemed eerily quiet, and Elijah feared that even
the slightest sigh would stir Lil Rooster or one of the
younger boys from their sleep. But his aroused dick
chased all caution from his mind, and he knew it was a
risk he'd have to take.
Elijah's heart pounded in his chest as he reached
slowly across Lil Rooster's sleeping body and placed
his hand gently on the boy's left butt-cheek, resting
it there before proceeding any further. Elijah froze as
Lil Rooster mumbled something in his sleep, shifting
his sprawling legs before settling back into a deep
sleep.
Elijah laid his hand there like that for what seemed
like hours, not daring to make another move until
confident he wouldn't be caught. He shivered with a
strange thrill at the firm, fleshy feel of the ass-
cheek beneath his hand, and grew eager to continue his
forbidden exploration.
Holding his breath, Elijah cautiously lifted his hand,
then placed it down on Lil Rooster's right butt-cheek.
Its taut, muscular fleshiness felt about the same as
the other one he'd just touched. Instinctively, Elijah
reached his free hand beneath the waistband of his own
pants, and played with his own dick as he savored the
taboo thrill of fondling Lil Rooster in his sleep.
Emboldened by his success so far, Elijah began to
stroke and massage both of Lil Rooster's buttocks --
gently, breathlessly at first, then with lustful
urgency. He knew that what he was doing was weird and
gross, but he was caught up in a frenzy of inexplicable
curiosity and desire. The mounds of Lil Rooster's ass
seemed perfectly shaped, and he enjoyed the feeling of
their flesh kneaded beneath his palm and fingers.
Elijah's breathing grew heavier, and he stroked his own
dick with increased vigor. Occasionally, Lil Rooster
shifted and moaned in his sleep, causing Elijah to
snatch his hand away in panic. Only when Elijah could
hear his friend's drunken snoring resume would he
continue his clumsy, eager groping.
When massaging through the boy's pants grew tiresome,
Elijah boldly slipped his hand under the waistband of
Lil Rooster's pants, grasping at the naked, fleshy
mounds beneath. The touch of his friend's smooth,
sweaty skin was oddly exciting, and Elijah yanked on
his own dick all the more furiously.
Working himself into an almost feverish frenzy, he
pressed his middle finger into the tight, moist crevice
of Lil Rooster's ass-crack. But Elijah didn't dare push
deep enough to touch the boy's asshole, for fear that
sudden contact with such a sensitive body part would
almost certainly wake his friend and be met with the
most unpleasant of reactions.
Stroking his own dick faster and harder, Elijah closed
his eyes and savored the strangely stimulating touch of
his friend's muscled teenage ass. Running his fingers
up and down the boy's tightly clenched ass-crack,
Elijah fantasized about prying it open with his own
throbbing dick. He imagined plunging his hungry cock
into the private, tiny hole hidden between the two
mounds of bronze flesh, just as he'd done to his little
brother that morning.
Lil Rooster's macho pride and obnoxious bullying made
the idea of fucking him all the more appealing. Elijah
pictured Lil Rooster's cocky grin giving way to gasps
of pain and cries for mercy as Elijah ripped open his
previously unexplored asshole. The image of Lil Rooster
on all fours, his body heaving forward with every
forceful thrust, was enough to push Elijah over the
edge of orgasm. Realizing what was about to happen,
Elijah pulled his hand away from Lil Rooster's ass,
laid on his back, grabbed his dick in his right hand,
and shot three long ropes of creamy cum onto his
hairless, chocolate-colored stomach, stifling a cry of
concentrated euphoric pleasure.
He lay like that for several minutes, his bony
adolescent ribcage heaving up and down from one of the
strangest orgasms of his young life. Afraid that Lil
Rooster might wake up to see the puddle of cum on
Elijah's stomach, he hurriedly mopped it up with his
shirt, which had been lying on the floor beside the
bed.
***
The next morning, Elijah could barely look Lil Rooster
in the eye.
In the post-orgasmic glare of broad daylight, he felt
shame over what he'd done the night before. To Elijah's
great relief, Lil Rooster spoke of nothing but his
horrible hangover, and seemed barely able to remember
his sexual romp with Laney, let alone any unusual
occurrences while he slept.
Elijah was eager to rinse away the memories of the
previous night's compulsive behavior, and needed to
clean his shirt which was crunchy with dried cum, so
Elijah spent an hour or so that morning washing his
body and clothes in the creek.
Refreshed by his bath and encouraged by the news that
Master James was taking a trip to Columbus, Elijah
decided to enjoy an afternoon of fishing, something he
hadn't done since being subjected to the demanding
schedule of a sexual slave.
When he returned to the cabin after his wash, Elijah
found Thad still in bed, curled into the fetal position
and staring sadly at the wall, just as Elijah had done
after his first encounter with Master James. Elijah
asked his little brother to join him on his fishing
trip, knowing the fresh air and comfort of a familiar
routine would do the boy some good, but Thad shook his
head in solemn refusal. It pained Elijah to see Thad so
uncharacteristically sad and sedate, especially since
he knew he was partly to blame. At least Elijah gained
some comfort in his growing confidence that their
father would be home soon, and everything would be back
to normal.
These hopes were encouraged later that night. Lil
Rooster burst through the front door, breathless and
wild-eyed, and announced that he had some juicy gossip
to share. According to word spreading throughout the
slave quarters, the new Master had just returned to
Stampley Plantation, bloody and dirty after being
beaten and robbed by Jacob the stable-boy, who ran away
and was now the prey for one of Mr. Potter's notorious
nigger-hunts. But the strangest part of all was that
Master James showed up with a mysterious new slave,
whose age, identity, and appearance none of the slave
quarter gossips could agree on.
Elijah's heart pounded in his chest when he heard the
news. He looked excitedly over at Thad, whose tired,
sad eyes lit up with their first flares of hope in over
two days. Certainly it couldn't be mere coincidence
that two days after promising to find their father,
Master James returned to Stampley Plantation with a
"new" male slave.
After everyone had gone to bed, Elijah still couldn't
fall asleep. His mind raced in anticipation of the
reunion to come, imagining the joy and protection it
would restore to his life. He pictured his mother
breaking out of her illness to greet her long-lost
husband in a warm embrace. He envisioned Thad, laughing
and playing like a normal kid again. He looked forward
to a future when Master James would leave their family
to live in peace - father, mother, and sons -- while he
used some other boy to satisfy his cravings. Maybe
Elijah and Lil Rooster could even become regular
friends again. If anybody could make everything right
again, it was Daddy.
Elijah's excited mind expected a knock on the door at
any minute. He imagined throwing the door open and
jumping into his father's arms. If this didn't happen
by the next morning, he told himself, he'd run up to
the Big House to find his father and thank Master
James. Surely Master James wouldn't disapprove of such
an uninvited visit, not after going through such
trouble to bring his father back.
Yes, that's what he'd do, Elijah decided as he finally
drifted off into sleep. Tomorrow he'd visit the Big
House, and bring his father back.
***
James was enjoying his best night's sleep since
arriving at Stampley Plantation.
This was partly due to the fact that his battered body
desperately needed rest after the ordeals of the past
two days. But it was also largely thanks to the
presence of the mulatto slave sleeping in the bed
beside him, naked and snuggled against his body in a
way Elijah had never done when sharing his bed.
After rinsing off with a second bath the night before,
James had dried Abel off and led the nervous, naked
houseboy upstairs, where he instructed Abel to spend
the night with him. The warmth of the houseboy's smooth
skin pressed against his own, combined with the rhythm
of Abel's deep breathing, easily lulled James into a
peaceful night of pleasant dreams.
The sound of soft knocking startled James from his
slumber. He blinked open his eyes and glanced toward
the bedroom windows. The faint sunlight peeking through
suggested it was early morning.
His body froze in sudden panic, fearing it might be
Becky knocking on his bedroom door, wondering why her
son hadn't slept in his own bed that night. He dreaded
her reaction upon discovering that her only son had
been stolen away to be James's sexual plaything for the
night. Becky had treated him with nothing but respect
and affection since his arrival at Stampley Plantation,
and James felt a pang of guilt for betraying her naïve
but endearing trust.
James looked anxiously over at Abel, and was relieved
to see the boy still sound asleep. He scrambled out of
bed, wrapped a blanket around his nude body, and walked
toward the bedroom door.
"Who's there?" James whispered nervously.
"It's me, Massuh James," replied a familiar voice.
"Elijah."
James's brain reeled to pair the voice and name with an
actual person in his life. So much had happened in just
three days - the attack and rape by Jacob, his rescue
by Frank Turner and Lucky, seducing Abel the night
before - and the memories of the slave-boy Elijah now
seemed like scenes from another lifetime. This initial
murkiness quickly gave way to a rush of relief and
recognition, and James felt the tingle of butterflies
in his stomach. After all, it was less than a week
since James had convinced himself he was falling
hopelessly in love with the cute and adorable Elijah.
James opened the door and eagerly ushered Elijah
inside, closing the door behind him. Elijah stood
there, panting to catch his breath. The boy's eyes
glowed with a happiness and excitement that had never
before accompanied Elijah's visits to James's bedroom.
James smiled at the sight of the handsome slave-boy,
and his stomach leapt into wild acrobatics. Seeing the
scrawny, wooly-haired slave-boy standing in tattered
rags before him, James realized how much he'd missed
Elijah. Elijah's looks could never compare with the
golden Adonis lying in James's bed, but still there was
something surprisingly seductive about Elijah's
disheveled, dirty appearance - something vulnerable and
innocent - that Abel's groomed, light-skinned
perfection could never match. James felt a sudden urge
to seize the teenage boy in a big bear hug.
"I'se sorry, Massuh James," Elijah gasped, still
catching his breath. "I know you said to wait, but I
ain't hardly sleep at all last night I'se so happy, so
I 'cided to come see you first thing this mornin',
hopin' you ain't gonna be mad at me for not waitin',
cuz they said you was goin' to Columbus, and then they
was sayin' you come back with somebody new, so I was
thinkin' it can't be nobody but Daddy, since you
promised, and I was just burstin' to see my Daddy again
and take him back to Thad and Mama, who's sick real bad
from bein' sad and all, so I just couldn't wait no
longer, and..."
Elijah spoke so quickly that James could barely keep up
with him. When James finally realized Elijah's
misunderstanding, his heart sank and his amused smile
turned into a troubled frown.
"Elijah, I'm afraid you've got it all wrong," James
explained softly, knowing he was about to break the
young boy's heart. He hated himself for getting
Elijah's hopes up in the first place.
"Your...your father's not here," James continued,
wincing as he watched Elijah's optimism fade into
confused disappointment. "I tried to keep my promise, I
honestly did. But on my way to Columbus, where I hoped
to speak to the people who could help me find him, I
was attacked by my driver. The new man I brought back
with me is the slave who helped rescue me, not your
father."
Elijah staggered backwards, and for a second James
thought the boy might faint. His mouth hung open in
shock and bewilderment as he struggled to find his
voice.
"You mean...you mean my Daddy ain't here?" Elijah
asked, his raspy voice breaking with disappointment.
"I'm so sorry, Elijah," James said sympathetically. "I
truly am. I tried to find your father, and I promise
I'll CONTINUE trying to find him, but he's not here
now, and there's still no guarantee we'll be able to
find him."
Elijah was dizzy with shock and grief, like someone had
just punched him in the gut. He wanted to dash out of
Master James's bedroom, run deep into the woods, and
curl up in some hollowed-out tree-trunk where he could
cry. Tears burned in his eyes as he thought of his
ecstatic hopes from the night before, hopes that now
seemed reckless and foolish. Nothing had changed after
all: his mother was still sick, Thad was still distant
and depressed, and his best friend considered him a
"pussy-boy." As hard as he tried, he couldn't fight
back his tears, and finally burst into explosive sobs.
James rushed forward to comfort Elijah with a
compassionate embrace. Elijah pressed his head against
the white man's naked chest, while James tried to
soothe him by stroking his tangled, wooly hair.
Although James embraced Elijah with the sole intention
of comforting the distraught slave-boy, he couldn't
deny deriving a selfish pleasure from the intimacy with
Elijah's warm, trembling body. As he petted Elijah's
head, he breathed in the unique smells of the teenage
boy's greasy, nappy hair and sweaty Negro skin. His
dick twitched guiltily at the feel of the boy's small
body wrapped in his arms.
What the hell's wrong with me? James shuddered with
shame and annoyance. This poor, heartbroken boy needed
James's sympathy and support, but in a matter of
seconds James was selfishly craving the slave-boy's
flesh. The sickest part was that James was actually
AROUSED by Elijah's grief and vulnerability. Seeing
Elijah's distress and helplessness reminded James of
his power over every aspect of the boy's life.
Perhaps it was a mistake to give Elijah's feelings any
legitimacy in the first place. James's Northern
sensibilities insisted on the equality and humanity of
ALL individuals, regardless of skin color or social
class, but perhaps such idealism was unhealthy and
impractical in this brave new world of the South. If
only he could rid himself of antiquated notions like
"equality" and "compassion," and adopt the amoral
attitude of a man like Mr. Potter. After all, to men
like him Negroes were the equivalent of land and
cattle, and one wouldn't worry himself over the
"feelings" of a cow or horse.
But the scared young man, shaking and blubbering in his
arms, still seemed all-too-human to James, and wouldn't
it demand a sacrifice of his OWN humanity to ignore
Elijah's suffering and pursue his own selfish pleasure?
James was still debating between sending Elijah back to
the slave quarters, or throwing him on the bed and
taking pleasure from his body despite the boy's tears,
when he noticed that Elijah's noisy crying had waken up
Abel. The mulatto houseboy was sitting upright in bed,
rubbing his eyes and looking sleepily at the odd scene
before him.
Elijah noticed for the first time that there was a
third person in the room, and he stopped crying. He
recognized Abel as the houseboy he'd seen on a couple
occasions when sneaking away from Master James's
bedroom. Elijah noticed that Abel appeared to be naked,
and was surprised to feel a slight pang of jealousy. As
much as he despised Master James, Elijah felt strangely
hurt to realize that the older white man had abandoned
him for another slave's affections so soon.
Jealousy was quickly replaced by anger and panic,
however, when Elijah realized that James's fickle
interests might seriously jeopardize the search for his
father. Elijah knew that his sexual appeal in the eyes
of Master James was his only leverage on Stampley
Plantation. But what if this light-skinned houseboy
took that power away from him, sparing Elijah from
Master James's unwanted affections, but spoiling all
chances of bringing back his father?
James was caught off guard by this unexpected meeting
between his two favorite slave-boys.
"Ummmm, I, er, uh...Abel, this is Elijah," James
stuttered. "Elijah, this is Abel."
Elijah mumbled a greeting but averted his eyes to the
floor. Elijah had been raised to believe that House
Negroes were smarter, cleaner, and better looking than
other Negroes, and almost as powerful as white folks.
Abel nodded shyly in Elijah's direction. It was
extremely rare for him to meet other slaves, especially
boys around his age.
James was amused by the awkward exchange between the
boys. He wondered what each boy thought about the
other, and felt a mischievous urge to watch the
uncomfortable social interaction play out further.
"Elijah, why don't you have a seat on the bed next to
Abel?" James suggested.
Elijah furrowed his brow skeptically, wiped his wet
cheeks with his sleeves, and nervously sat down on the
edge of the bed, facing James.
"Abel, why don't you come out from beneath the sheets
and join Elijah on the edge of the bed?" James asked.
Abel's eyes grew wide in surprise and embarrassment.
"But, Master James," Abel stuttered. "I-I don't have
any clothes on, remember?" Despite the previous night's
initiation, Abel still thought it was wrong to be naked
in front of other people.
James chuckled at Abel's endearing modesty. "Don't
worry, Abel," he said calmly. "Being naked's nothing to
be ashamed about. Besides, Elijah's seen me naked
plenty of times before. Isn't that right, Elijah?"
Elijah blushed and looked at the floor without
answering.
Abel struggled to comprehend the circumstances that
could have led to Elijah's familiarity with Master
James's nakedness.
"Don't worry, Abel," James continued. "Here in this
bedroom, there's no such thing as rules or shame or
modesty or morality, do you understand? In this bedroom
we're free to be ourselves, to make up our OWN rules,
and I say it's perfectly fine to be naked in front of
each other."
And with that, James dropped the blanket he'd been
holding around his waist, and stood completely nude in
front of the two boys on the bed.
Abel looked nervously away from the older white man's
nakedness. Worried that he might sabotage his newfound
camaraderie with Master James, he crawled out from
beneath the sheets. He swung his smooth, lanky legs
over the edge of the bed, and sat next to Elijah,
modestly covering his crotch with both hands. Both boys
now sat on the edge of the bed about a foot apart,
facing James.
"I just want to help the two of you get better
acquainted," James explained, pulling up a chair to sit
about five feet from the bed. "I like you both very
much, so it's only natural that I'd want the two of you
to get to know each other. There's no need to be so
shy."
Both boys stole nervous, skeptical glances at one
another. Neither boy knew what Master James wanted them
to say to one another.
"How old are you?" Abel asked quietly, uneasy with the
awkward silence.
"I'se fourteen," Elijah replied, making brief, wary eye
contact with the older boy beside him. "You?"
"I'm sixteen," Abel answered. After another long pause,
he asked, "Have you been at Stampley all your life?"
"Yeah," Elijah mumbled, intimidated by the houseboy's
"proper" speech.
"Me too," Abel said. "We probably played together when
we were little, before my mother stopped letting me
play with the other children."
"Yeah, I reckon maybe we did," Elijah replied. He
vaguely remembered playing with a white-looking boy
when he was little, until the boy mysteriously
disappeared from the group one day. "You got any
brothers or sisters?" Elijah asked.
"No, it's just me, mother, and father," Abel explained.
"How about you?"
"I got a little brother named Thadeus, but we calls him
Thad," Elijah said gloomily, remembering the
circumstances of his previous visit to Master James's
bedroom.
"You're lucky," Abel responded, forgetting James's
presence for a moment. "I wish I had a little brother
sometimes. It gets kind of lonely up here, without any
friends or brothers or sisters."
"Yeah," Elijah shrugged. "But 'least you gets to sleep
in the Big House, and get all the food you want, and
take baths, and...and wear nice clothes," he added,
looking down at his own ragged shirt and pants in
embarrassment.
Abel felt bad for sounding so ungrateful, and both boys
fell into another tense silence.
James enjoyed this clumsy exchange more than any play
he'd ever seen in the Boston theatre-houses. Before
coming to Stampley Plantation, he'd watched teenage
boys from a distance as they played baseball in the
schoolyard, sat next to him in the streetcar, or hung
out on street corners. He'd always longed to know the
secrets of their lives: how they talked with one
another, befriended one another, played with one
another, fought with one another. It was a social world
he was forbidden from entering, but his new position as
slave-owner now gave him the power to FORCE himself
into that world.
The curiosity to watch Abel and Elijah together began
innocently enough, but observing their awkward
interactions suddenly prompted James to pursue his
social experiment into a more taboo and thrilling
realm. Seeing Elijah's rough African handsomeness next
to Abel's refined mulatto beauty presented James with
an opportunity too tempting to ignore.
His conscience nagged him with the memory of his
disapproving mother in the dream that had inspired him
to travel to Columbus in search of Elijah's father just
three days earlier. He remembered the regret after his
sexual assault against Jacob went violently, tragically
wrong. Wouldn't he be a fool to ignore such glaring
lessons, such generous opportunities for redemption?
Could he really dismiss Elijah's sorrow, or Abel's
sweet, kind spirit, all for his own selfish pleasures?
But the temptation to explore the two specimens of
handsome Negro flesh sitting just several feet away was
too intense for James to resist. He couldn't escape the
awareness that he OWNED the young men in front of him,
meaning he could use and enjoy them in any way he
pleased. It was a privilege too enticing, too
overpowering to relinquish, at least for now.
"I think that's enough small talk for now," James said
nervously, shifting in his chair as his dick twitched
slowly to life. "I think I'd like to see you both
become even BETTER acquainted."
Abel looked up, puzzled by the odd change in Master
James's voice. Elijah shot James a skeptical look,
recognizing all too well the early signs of one of the
white man's mood swings.
James gulped apprehensively. Where should he begin? His
mind reeled from the possibilities. He could instruct
them to do ANYTHING. He could make them crawl on all
fours and quack like ducks if he wished. He could order
them to fight like roosters in a cockfight, or dance a
jig, or piss in each other's faces. He was the
plantation puppeteer, and Elijah and Abel were his
marionettes.
"I'd...I'd like to see you kiss one another," James
said hoarsely. His heart throbbed wildly in his chest.
"On the lips."
Abel looked dumbfounded. "You want us to do WHAT,
Master James?" he asked, honestly thinking (and hoping)
his hearing was playing tricks on him.
"You heard me," James said sternly. "I want to watch
while you and Elijah kiss one another on the lips."
Abel's body grew tense. It was weird enough kissing
Master James the night before. He'd cooperated then
because it was with a white man, whose affection and
approval he greatly desired. But now Master James was
asking him to kiss another NEGRO boy. Elijah seemed
nice enough, but he was still a common, dirty field
Negro, one of the "jungle creatures" Abraham was always
claiming they were superior to.
Abel was confused by James's behavior. He'd convinced
himself that the night before was some kind of fluke,
something the new Master did in a moment of extreme
stress and exhaustion, like the drunken nights of
illicit passion he read about in Master Walt's bawdier
novels. He imagined looking back on it as a strange,
embarrassing episode in the early chapter of a
wonderful friendship with Master James, an encounter
never to be repeated. But now Master James wanted to
watch while two Negro boys KISSED?
This could mean only one thing: Master James actually
LIKED doing unnatural, immoral things with boys. It
also probably meant that the new Master had already
done such things with the slave-boy sitting next to
him. Abel felt a sharp pang of fear and sadness.
Perhaps Master James didn't think he was special, or
want to be his friend after all. Maybe the night before
had been just one of dozens, maybe even hundreds, of
similar encounters with other slaves.
"But Master James," Abel protested feebly. "If you
don't mind, I have other chores I should be attending
to this morning. Don't you want me to empty the
chamber-pot, or get your bath ready, or serve you
breakfast?"
"You know I appreciate your diligence, Abel," James
explained calmly, a hint of impatience creeping into
his voice. "But your job is to please me and do what I
say, do you understand? Some Masters only have slaves
to cook or clean. Others buy slaves for breeding, or
harvesting crops. But me, I have...OTHER jobs for my
slaves. Elijah here knows all about that, don't you,
Elijah?"
Elijah nodded sullenly, and gave Abel a look as if to
warn him, "It only gets worse, and we might as well
cooperate." As much as Elijah dreaded another day of
male-on-male degradation, he realized this might be his
only chance to stay in James's favor long enough to
ensure the continued search for his father, and Elijah
knew he had to make the most of it.
Elijah scooted closer to Abel on the bed, and looked
closely at the mulatto boy's face for the first time.
He noticed Abel's sparkling green eyes, red lips of
medium thickness, and a slender nose speckled with
freckles. His skin was even lighter than Lil Rooster's,
and Elijah marveled at how much Abel resembled a white
boy.
Knowing there was no point in hesitating any further,
Elijah leaned toward Abel's face and pecked awkwardly
at the older boy's lips. Abel tightened his lips in
instinctive resistance, but Elijah dove in for another
peck, then another, and another. Abel shut his eyes and
tried to reciprocate by leaning his head forward to
meet Elijah's stiff kisses.
James laughed at the sight of the two teenage boys
pecking at one another like two drunken roosters. Their
clumsiness was oddly arousing, but James was impatient
to see more.
"That's more like bobbing for apples than kissing,"
James teased. "Let me show you what I mean when I say
'kissing.'"
He stood up, walked over to the bed, and dropped to his
knees in front of Elijah. He grabbed the boy by the
back of the head with both hands and lunged at him with
hungry, sensuous kisses. He licked Elijah's salty,
tear-stained cheeks, nibbled on his ears, sucked on his
thick, fleshy lips, and pried open his stunned mouth
with his tongue. He licked every corner and crevice of
the young man's mouth, as if probing for hidden
treasure.
Abel watched with disgust and fascination. It pained
him to see Master James showering a common field Negro
with the same affection he'd shown Abel the night
before. Nothing in Abel's sheltered life had prepared
him for the sight of sensual intimacy between a man as
pale as James and a boy as dark as Elijah.
After a minute of ravenous kissing, James released
Elijah's head and pulled back for air.
"Now THAT'S what I mean by kissing!" James declared,
grinning. "Elijah, I'd like you to show Abel what
you've learned," he instructed breathlessly. He stayed
on his knees so that he'd have an intimate view of the
show.
Elijah apologized to Abel with his eyes, took a deep
breath, and grabbed Abel by the back of the head with
both hands, just as James had done to him. He then
proceeded to assault the mulatto boy's face with
awkward but earnest kisses. Elijah lapped at Abel's
neck, and sucked on his Adam's apple. He covered Abel's
moist-red lips with his own thick-purple lips, sucking
on them like Master James had done to him so many times
before. Elijah used his tongue to force his way between
Abel's lips, and darted it around the insides of Abel's
mouth. Abel tasted faintly of fried chicken and morning
breath.
At first Abel stiffened defensively, but eventually he
surrendered to Elijah's kisses, opening his mouth a
little wider and wiggling his tongue in a kind of
playful sparring match with Elijah's. As he grew bolder
and more accustomed to the sensation of kissing another
boy, Abel pushed his own tongue into Elijah's mouth,
swirling it around in nervous exploration. He tried to
push from his mind the awareness not only that he was
kissing another boy, but also a dirty Field Negro. The
flavor of Elijah's saliva was disgusting at first,
tasting like fish and cornbread, but eventually Abel
grew used to it and licked at Elijah's pearly white
teeth and purplish gums more enthusiastically.
James was delighted by the dramatic improvement in both
boys' performances. It was thrilling beyond belief to
see two normal teenage boys, with healthy appetites for
teenage girls, slurping on one another's mouths simply
because he'd ordered them to do so. His dick now arched
its reddish head toward his stomach, and he stroked it
from time to time as he watched his two beautiful
slaves devouring one another's faces.
But James was dying to explore as many of the moment's
erotic possibilities as he could before reaching
climax. This was like one of the illegal sex shows that
he'd read about, the risqué performances that took
place in Boston's underground clubs. Only it was his
very own private show, the actors were his slaves, and
HE was the director of the action.
"That's enough," James said excitedly.
Abel pulled away from Elijah, gulped for air, and wiped
off the drool that was sliding down his chin, making
sure the other hand still hid his dick from Elijah and
James. He hoped that the worst was over, but gained no
reassurance from the wild look in James's usually calm
and friendly eyes.
"Take off your clothes, Elijah," James ordered.
Elijah stood up and fumbled with the buttons on his
shirt. He shrugged it off his shoulders and tossed it
to the floor, then pushed his pants to the ground and
stepped out of them, completely naked. He reached
instinctively to cover his crotch, conscious of Abel's
curious eyes taking in the sight of his naked body.
Abel was struck by the deep, chocolaty brown of
Elijah's skin, as well as his scrawny build and
protruding ribcage, so different from his own light
skin and muscled, healthy build. He felt sorry for the
boy, thinking guiltily of his own hearty dinner the
night before. Despite his sympathy for the boy, Abel
thought Elijah looked dirty and unhealthy, and hoped he
wouldn't be ordered to touch the Field Negro any more.
"I want to see you roll around on the bed together,"
James ordered. "Continue kissing, but rub your bodies
together at the same time."
Abel looked disoriented, and sought in James's eyes
some sign of sympathy, some confirmation that it was
all just a playful prank. But all that met him there
was the cold, unfamiliar stare of a man in a crazed
state of desire. The expression filled Abel with dread
and sorrow, for it was the same expression he'd seen in
the face of Master Walt's friend three years ago,
before the man tried to rape him.
"Abel, lay on your back," James commanded gruffly.
"Elijah, I want you to rub against his body like you
would if he was a pretty girl."
Abel resented being cast as the girl, but he knew he
had no choice but to resign himself to the assigned
role. Scowling, he inched slowly back on the bed and
lay flat on his back, still covering his crotch. Elijah
walked reluctantly to the edge of the bed, and he too
was still shielding his dick from Abel's view.
"Enough with the goddamn modesty!" James barked
impatiently.
Abel flinched, unfamiliar with this darker, angrier
side to Master James.
"But Master James," Abel pleaded. "Boys aren't supposed
to be naked around each other, at least not like this.
This isn't you, Master James. You're not yourself
today!"
"Nope, it's him alright," Elijah mumbled, hoping only
Abel would hear.
"From this point on, you're only to speak when spoken
to, do you understand, Abel?" James snarled angrily.
Gone were the fantasies of romance and companionship
with his charming houseboy. James knew he was
sabotaging the tender friendship he'd initiated the
night before, and he hated himself for doing it. But he
was a man possessed by demons. The desire to enjoy,
abuse, degrade, and control the beautiful mulatto boy's
body was far more intense and overpowering than the
lapse of reason that for a split second had seduced him
with the dream of true friendship or romance with a
Negro.
"Consider this an EDUCATION, Abel!" James continued
feverishly. "And this bedroom is your classroom. I'm
trying to give you an education that will prove far
more valuable in your future life at Stampley
Plantation than anything you'll find in my Uncle's
library. Do you understand?"
Elijah shot Abel a look that warned him not to argue
any further.
"Yes, Master James," Abel sighed, staring at the
ceiling and struggling to fight back tears of
disappointment and disillusionment. Master James was
destroying all his hopes of equality and companionship
with the white man.
"Now both of you...remove those hands!" James ordered.
Elijah shut his eyes in embarrassment and dropped his
hands. Abel gasped at the sight of the young man's
massive six inches, hanging long and thick over two
enormous, dark, low-hanging balls. He'd seen plenty of
male genitals in Master Walt's art books, and caught
glimpses of his father's from time to time when the old
man got dressed in the morning, but he had no idea that
a man's dick could be so big, let alone a 14-year-old
boy's.
Abel shyly uncovered his own dick, even more insecure
and embarrassed now that he'd seen the monster dangling
between Elijah's legs. He thought his own four soft
inches looked shriveled and inferior in comparison.
Elijah climbed onto the bed, and clumsily positioned
himself on all fours over Abel's reclined body. He
looked sheepishly over his shoulder at James, as if
hoping the man had changed his mind.
James stood near the edge of the bed, pumping his red,
erect dick.
Elijah looked down at Abel, whose eyes were shut as if
he were trying to meditate his way out of the
unpleasant circumstances. There was no denying the
young man was handsome, even handsomer than Lil
Rooster, and if Abel lived in the slave quarters he'd
probably be more popular with the women than any buck
on the plantation. Elijah felt self-conscious of his
gangly build and African features - his wide nose with
its flared nostrils; his thick, chapped lips; his
crispy, kinky hair; and his huge, dark dick. He envied
Abel's refined, "white" features.
Elijah could tell Abel was scared, so he leaned down
and whispered in the older boy's ear: "It feels real
gross at first, but if we give Massuh what he want,
it'll be over soon enough, don't worry."
Abel shut his eyes tightly and nodded nervously for
Elijah to proceed. Elijah slowly lowered himself until
the entire length of his body was pressed against
Abel's. He lay still for a moment, wondering what he
should do next. He nuzzled Abel's neck and tensely
kissed the older boy on the lips.
Abel stiffened, remembering Elijah's dirty appearance
and thinking the boy had a distinct, greasy odor. He
took Elijah's advice to heart, however, and wrapped his
arms awkwardly around the dark-skinned boy's sweaty
back.
As Elijah kissed Abel more deeply, he relaxed his body
and moved his hips in a sensual, circular motion. He
grinded his crotch against Abel's smooth, muscular
stomach. He tried to imagine it was Laney beneath him,
but the firmness of Abel's body frustrated his
fantasies and kept his dick from getting hard. He was
still aware of James's ogling eyes, however, and since
he was desperate to stay in James's favor, Elijah tried
his damnedest to put on a satisfying show. He lowered
his head to suck on Abel's taut, dark-brown nipples,
inspiring a moan of surprise from Abel. As he licked
the golden houseboy's nipples, Elijah pressed his hips
deeper and faster into the body beneath him, squishing
his dick against Abel's stomach.
James stroked his dick eagerly, delighted by the sight
of Elijah's gorgeous brown bubble-butt, covered in a
light sheen of sweat, rising and falling, rising and
falling. He laughed at the two boys' stiffness, but
found their clumsy discomfort intensely arousing. Part
of him wanted to join in on the fun, but he decided to
wait, knowing his involvement would break the erotic
spell of their awkward fumbling.
As he rubbed his body against Abel's with increasing
speed and intensity, Elijah moved too low, causing his
dick to slip beneath Abel's balls and push against the
smooth, sweaty crevice of the houseboy's ass. Abel's
eyes shot open in surprise, but Elijah pretended not to
notice and continued poking his thick but still-soft
dick against the older boy's ass-cheeks.
The warmth of Abel's most private region reminded
Elijah of the pleasure he'd felt when fucking Thad, and
the fantasies he'd entertained while fondling Lil
Rooster's half-naked ass in the middle of the night.
For several minutes, Elijah completely forgot about
Abel and Master James, and lost himself in a fantasy
that it was LIL ROOSTER lying beneath him. He imagined
that it was Lil Rooster's cocky, masculine face that he
was devouring with kisses. He decided it was Lil
Rooster, not Abel, moaning and shifting uncomfortably
beneath his gyrating body.
As he lost himself in these fantasies, Elijah's dick
expanded against his will until it was a throbbing nine
inches poking at Abel's ass-crack, rudely demanding
entrance. Elijah savored the sweaty warmth of the fold
beneath Abel's balls, and guiltily imagined how good it
would feel to push deeper and enter the older boy's
most private of places. He kissed Abel more deeply,
moaning and licking the slick roof of Abel's mouth. He
thrashed wildly up and down, prodding against the
houseboy's backside with greater insistency.
Elijah wondered if Master James would be upset if he
attempted to fuck Abel without permission. He knew Abel
wouldn't like it, but better him than me, Elijah
thought guiltily. He was pretty sure SOMEBODY was going
to be fucked before the day was over, and he sure as
hell didn't want it to be him.
Abel grew accustomed to the weird but tolerable feeling
of Elijah's sweaty body squishing against his own, but
he became alarmed when he felt the younger boy's dick
lengthening and hardening as it pushed against his ass.
It was one thing for Abel to let Master James put his
dick inside him when he'd had no other choice, but
there was no way he was about to let another boy,
especially a lowly Field Negro, degrade him in such a
painful way. When Abel felt the head of Elijah's dick
pry open his ass-crack and nudge against his asshole,
he couldn't take it any more. He pushed Elijah off of
him and bolted upright in the bed.
"I can't, Master James!" Abel exclaimed, pointing to
the stunned and embarrassed Elijah, now flat on his
back and sporting an enormous erection. "I know I let
YOU put your thing inside me, Master James, but please
don't make me let HIM! He'll split me in half with that
thing!"
James stopped pumping his dick long enough to smile at
Abel's sincere terror and catch an eyeful of Elijah's
expanded manhood.
"Now THAT'S what I like to see," James said, winking at
Elijah. "Somebody's ready to play."
"No, it ain't like that, Massuh James," Elijah
stuttered, looking apologetically at Abel. "I mean...I
was just...I didn't mean to..."
"No need to apologize," James said, smiling devilishly.
"You're just showing Abel how these sessions are
supposed to work. What do you say we give Abel here his
first taste of dick?"
Elijah looked hesitatingly in Abel's direction.
Abel gulped and shook his head vehemently. "Please no,
Master James! I can't...I just can't, Master James.
I'll get sick, I'll throw up."
Abel hated that his lifetime of flawless, faithful
service to white folks had all led up to this threat of
disgusting degradation, this one act of service he had
to refuse. He desperately wanted Master James's
attention and affection, but not like this. Anything
but this. Just the THOUGHT of putting his face near
another man's dick made him nauseous.
"I'm sure Elijah thought the same thing before HIS
first time," James assured him. "And in less than a
month, he's already turned into quite the expert
cocksucker, ain't that right, Elijah?"
Elijah's body stiffened in shame and annoyance,
remembering Lil Rooster's insults.
"I 'spose, Massuh James," he agreed, not wanting to
jeopardize the search for his father.
Abel looked at Elijah in amazement, dismayed as to how
any self-respecting boy could brag about doing
something so degrading.
"Why don't you show Abel here how it's done?" James
suggested, jumping to join them on the bed. Kneeling,
James grabbed a handful of Elijah's tangled, wooly
hair, shoved the boy down to all fours, and pushed his
hard, pulsating pole against the slave-boy's unwilling
lips.
Abel stared on in shock and disgust as James jabbed his
dick past Elijah's thick lips, still wet from kissing
Abel, causing Elijah to cry out in alarm as it hit the
back of his throat. James slowly withdrew his dick,
covered in slimy spit, and shoved it back in again just
as deeply. Elijah's eyes were squeezed shut in
miserable endurance, and he moaned and choked with
every brutal thrust.
At one point, Elijah gasped for air, and pried James's
hands from the back of his neck.
"I wanna show him another way," Elijah mumbled, looking
up at James for approval. With his right hand, he
grabbed the base of James's dick, and slurped on the
upper half like a boy who hadn't eaten in days. He
settled into a bearable rhythm, bobbing up and down
energetically, using his hand to keep the lower half of
James's dick enclosed in a warm, wet grip.
James leaned across Elijah's sloped back to grab a
handful of the boy's fleshy brown butt-cheeks, kneading
and slapping them with surprising aggression. Winking
lecherously at Abel, James sucked his middle finger
into his mouth, then leaned over and slid it between
the dark, clenched line of Elijah's ass-crack. He
repeated this several times, each time pushing his
finger deeper and deeper between the folds of Elijah's
ass-cheeks.
Abel felt so sorry for Elijah that he had to look away.
He also dreaded the possibility that he'd be in the
very same position within minutes. James caught him
looking away and yelled at him to watch. Elijah let out
a muffled gasp of pain as James pushed his slick middle
finger past Elijah's tightly sealed asshole, resistant
to invasion after a three-day vacation from violation.
Elijah slobbered on James's dick, trying his hardest to
show the enthusiasm he knew Master James desired, while
James smacked, groped, and fingered Elijah's ass.
James relished the sloppy, eager sucking of Elijah's
thick lips on his dick, and he concluded with
satisfaction that the boy had developed some impressive
skills over the course of the past month.
But James was ready to bury his dick in a fresh virgin
mouth. He slipped his dick out of Elijah's mouth, and
nodded for Abel to take the boy's place. Elijah gasped
for air and collapsed on his back in exhaustion and
relief.
Abel stared at James's dick, slick with saliva and
precum, and thought for sure he was going to throw up.
But never in his life had he disobeyed a white man, and
he couldn't start now. Doing so would only get him
exiled to the fields, or worse. He knew he had no
choice but to submit to this unexpected fate, to learn
how to complete these new tasks with the excellence and
diligence that had earned him such a stellar
reputation.
Abel positioned himself on all fours, just as Elijah
had been, and looked fearfully at the throbbing red
creature staring him in the face. It was slick with
Elijah's saliva, and Abel grimaced at the thought of
ingesting the other boy's spit. He nervously grasped
James's dick in his right friend, shut his eyes
tightly, and placed its tip between his thin, trembling
lips. He held it between his lips like that for a
moment, not sure what to do, but grateful that Master
James was letting him take his time.
James's cock tasted slimy and salty, and bittersweet
precum oozed from its tip. When Abel stopped to think
what he was doing, he started to gag, and had to take
the dick out of his mouth for a gulp of fresh air.
Master James stroked his crispy dark curls, coaxing him
to continue.
He put the dick back in his mouth, and attempted to fit
another couple inches. But again, the intrusion was too
much, causing him to choke and sputter in disgust. Abel
looked back at Elijah, as if to ask, "How the hell did
you do this?" But all Elijah could do was shrug
sympathetically and nod for Abel to continue lest he
should provoke Master James's impatience.
Recalling Elijah's trick, Abel formed a fist around the
bottom half of James's dick so that he wouldn't have to
worry about taking it all in his mouth at once. He
wrapped his lips around the head and proceeded to bob
up and down, like a hen pecking at seeds. In this way,
he developed a system that could keep him from
vomiting. James had to warn him a couple times about
covering his teeth with his lips, but eventually he
figured out how to please his Master while sparing his
own mouth the severity of a full-on assault. When the
stench and taste of dick became too much for him, he
pulled off to gasp for air, enjoying a desperately
needed rest by licking up and down the base of the
shaft, or swirling his tongue around the dark-pink
edges of its circumcised head.
James sighed and hummed like it was the best blowjob
ever. Abel wasn't as experienced or talented as Elijah,
but knowing that James's dick was the first the young
man had ever tasted, more than made up for the
occasional teeth-scratches. The sight of the gorgeous
mulatto boy on all fours, worshipping his dick with
grunts and gasps and winces of embarrassed pain, nearly
pushed James over the edge of orgasm. To avoid bringing
the morning to a premature halt, James pushed Abel off
his dick and gestured for Elijah to take James's place.
Abel winced when he realized his Master's intentions.
Still dazed from the assault on his own young body,
Elijah crawled over to James and perched on his knees
so that both he and James were kneeling side by side,
with Abel before them on all fours.
Abel's eyes widened with anxiety when he saw Elijah's
dick up close. Even though it was now soft again, it
still looked like a menacing python, threatening to
coil and strike at any moment. Abel also noticed the
patch of curly kinky hair above Elijah's cock, and felt
grateful for his own nest of soft, crow-black pubic
hair. Abel lifted the heavy member with his right hand
and placed the tip of it in his mouth.
Elijah sighed with pleasure at the feeling of his dick
being engulfed in a hot, wet mouth. James had only
sucked his dick once before, and while Elijah
remembered it feeling good, it was also frustratingly
brief and incomplete. The feel of Abel's lips
surrounding his thick manhood felt terrific, and he
found himself wishing the houseboy was more confident
and experienced, so that Elijah could bury his entire
shaft down Abel's throat.
Abel sucked tentatively on the tip of Elijah's cock,
like a kitten testing a bowl of milk presented to it by
a stranger. Abel's clumsy licks and slurps and sucking
brought Elijah's cock quickly to life, until it looked
like a thick tree-branch slapping and poking Abel in
the face. Abel stretched his mouth as wide as he could
to receive Elijah's manhood, but he could only manage
two or three inches at a time without gagging.
Elijah was torn between sympathy for Abel and the
urgent, selfish need to enjoy the pleasures of the
older boy's body. He knew firsthand the difficulty and
humiliation of taking a dick in one's mouth, but he
also craved the pleasure he knew it could provide. As
his enjoyment mounted, Elijah's selfish desires took
complete possession of him. He seized Abel by the neck
and rocked his hips, gently at first, then more
urgently, thrusting his dick deeper and deeper into
Abel's panicking mouth.
For some reason, the houseboy's light skin only fueled
Elijah's frenzy. All roles were thrillingly reversed:
House Nigger serving Field Nigger, Older worshipping
Younger, Mulatto in submission to African. Elijah
shoved his dick in and out of Abel's mouth with
increasing speed and violence, watching with guilty
excitement as slobber and precum oozed out of the
corners of Abel's mouth and dripped down his chin.
While Elijah pummeled Abel's mouth, James turned his
attention to the handsome houseboy's muscled, hairless
ass. He looked down and shook his head in breathless
amazement that any young man's ass could be so perfect.
Crouching behind Abel, James buried his face between
Abel's firm, perfectly rounded buttocks. He inhaled the
sweet, musky scent of mulatto-boy-ass. He sniffed
hungrily at Abel's asshole, savoring its smell of soap
and sweat. Eager for a taste of the young man's near-
virgin rosebud, James darted his tongue deep into
Abel's ass-crack until it poked against the tightly
sealed opening buried inside.
Abel cried out in surprise, but in doing so he only
allowed Elijah's cock easier access to the back of his
throat. Abel remembered James's bizarre fascination
with his shit-hole during their bath the night before,
but this was taking things to a whole new level. Abel
could only conclude that any person deriving pleasure
from licking another male's asshole must be afflicted
with the gravest of mental illnesses.
But James was deliriously happy as he lapped greedily
at his 16-year-old houseboy's asshole. As he pressed
his tongue against the tiny opening, demanding entrance
to the secret treasures of Abel's rectum, James smacked
and grasped at Abel's firm buttocks. He still couldn't
believe that such a flawless ass belonged to HIM. He
owned it, and could enjoy it as many times and in as
many ways as he wished. He could massage it, lick it,
spank it, finger it, whip it, or fuck it any time he
felt the inclination. He could take pleasure from
Abel's body hundreds, maybe even THOUSANDS, of times
over the next few years, until the slave-boy no longer
held any physical appeal for him.
Deep down, James knew Abel was more than just a pretty
ass. He recalled with a pang of regret the young man's
eager friendliness the night before. James acknowledged
that Abel was a smart, sensitive young man with hopes,
fears, and dreams just like anyone else. If James chose
to free Abel from slavery, he knew the young houseboy
could easily become a successful writer, politician,
teacher, or businessman. But the possibilities within
James's reach were too seductive to pass up, and James
realized with shame that he lacked the moral strength
and willpower to do the right thing. Still, there was
something liberating in this conclusion, and James
surrendered to the carnal pleasures of the moment.
Intoxicated by the musky smell of Abel's teenage ass,
and worked to a fever pitch of desire by the sounds of
Abel slurping and moaning and gagging on Elijah's thick
cock, James decided it was time to plunder the treasure
that had offered up such exquisite pleasures the night
before. He spit into his hand and stroked his dick
until it was slick with saliva. He spread Abel's
buttocks and aimed the head of his dick at the
houseboy's tiny pink asshole. With one brutal thrust,
James broke past its protective opening and slowly sank
his dick into the warm, ecstatic squishiness of Abel's
bowels.
Abel screamed from the pain of the unexpected
violation, and shot James a careless look of anger and
resentment.
James felt badly for hurting the young man, he honestly
did, but the sensation of Abel's asshole clutching at
his dick was just too intense to resist. He pushed his
dick in slowly at first, circling it around Abel's
rectum in deliberate exploration. The urge to possess
the boy's body completely soon overwhelmed him,
however. He grabbed Abel's hips and accelerated the
speed and force of his thrusts until he was bucking
violently into Abel's backside.
Abel smashed his face into the bed, hoping at least to
have a reprieve from Elijah's oral assault while James
slammed into him from behind. Elijah was close to the
brink of orgasm, however, and unwilling to abandon the
addictive pleasures of Abel's mouth. Elijah grabbed
Abel by the chin and shoved his throbbing manhood deep
into Abel's weary mouth. Impaled on both ends, Abel
lurched painfully between James's dick pumping in and
out of his aching asshole, and Elijah's dick stretching
his sore mouth.
As Elijah watched James thrash into Abel's asshole like
a madman, he felt suddenly envious. He had a nagging
curiosity to know if the mulatto boy's ass felt as good
as Thad's had felt. He wondered if James would allow
him to sample Abel's ass in addition to Abel's mouth.
He didn't want to betray a fellow slave. But at the
same time, he knew that since Abel had no contact with
the slave-cabin community, this was a rare opportunity
to explore his new desire in a way that wouldn't hurt
his little brother or expose himself as a "pussy-boy"
to his friends.
Elijah made sheepish eye contact with Master James.
"Massuh James," he spoke up nervously. "I was hopin'
maybe I might... ummmmm... you know... try doin' what
you'se doin'?"
Abel grunted in protest, his mouth still full of dick.
There was no doubt in his mind that taking Elijah's
monstrous cock up his butt would almost certainly kill
him. At the very least, it would cause irreparable
damage to his insides. He shot Elijah a look of
surprise and anger for betraying him so casually.
James paused in mid-thrust, and broke into a surprised
smile. He felt a mix of shame and satisfaction about
Elijah's transformation. In less than a month, James
had taken an innocent, naïve Negro boy, shocked and
disgusted by all forms of sex between males, and
corrupted him to the point that he was now practically
BEGGING to fuck another boy in the ass.
James could never have imagined such a change was
possible on that first night with the scared, reluctant
slave-boy. He wondered if THIS was the ultimate power
of slavery, the ability to completely alter another
human being's personality and desires. It was a
tantalizing idea, and James found himself eager to
watch the evolution continue, not just with Elijah, but
also Abel, and Thad, and dozens of other slave-boys and
men whose lives he could disrupt and transform with
just a snap of his fingers.
Without saying a word, James pulled his dick out of
Abel, moved to the side, and motioned for Elijah to
take his place. Elijah removed his dick from Abel's
mouth and hobbled on his knees to position himself
behind Abel. Abel rested his head on the bed, his taut
golden butt still arched into the air.
Elijah's heart raced wildly in anticipation of the
conquest to come. He looked down at Abel's wrinkled
asshole, still sloppy-wet from James's spit. Elijah
watched it open wide, then shut, wide, then shut,
panting in anticipation of another assault. Elijah knew
he should find this repulsive, but for some reason he
felt only awe and lust at the sight of the strange,
private body part.
Nervous and inexperienced, Elijah fumbled to place the
tip of his cock against the inviting entrance. James
kneeled nearby, eagerly watching Elijah's every move.
Elijah pushed clumsily against Abel's asshole. Already
loosened to accommodate James, it stretched to receive
the much thicker head of Elijah's dick. Elijah
shuddered with pleasure at the first sensation of
penetrating the houseboy's insides.
Abel moaned in response to the increased size of the
violation, and grasped at the bed-sheets in a kind of
silent scream.
Elijah pushed with all his strength to sink his thick
manhood past the stubborn resistance of Abel's narrow
rectal walls. He watched in delirious pleasure as inch
by inch of his massive pole was sucked deeper and
deeper into the houseboy's slippery dark intestines.
As soon as the invasion was complete, with all nine
inches lodged in Abel's clenched asshole, Elijah jerked
like a wild stallion trying to toss its rider. The
sensations of having his dick entombed between the
firm, golden round globes of Abel's buttocks were even
better than he remembered them being with Thad, and
Elijah wished they could last for hours.
He slammed his body mercilessly into the body beneath
him, pulling Abel backwards by the hips so that his
dick was swallowed to the hilt with every eager thrust.
Elijah once again imagined Lil Rooster in Abel's place.
He wanted to prove himself by stuffing his dick in the
ass of the cocky boy who had so obnoxiously and
hurtfully challenged his manhood.
Abel screamed like a woman giving birth. He felt Elijah
stabbing his insides like a dagger, and he half-
expected Elijah's dick to rip through his throat and
burst out of his mouth at any minute.
Afraid that Abel's violent screams would wake the
entire plantation, James hobbled forward on his knees,
lifted Abel so that the boy was on all fours again, and
waved his dick in Abel's face. It was covered in a
thick coating of spit, precum, and ass-slime, and Abel
dry-wretched at the sight of it. He was thankful he
hadn't eaten anything since the night before.
Abel shook his head desperately, wanting to please
Master James but incapable of cooperating with such a
revolting request. James pressed his dick insistently
against Abel's lips, smacking them with it and wiping a
string of pre-cum and ass-juice across the boy's chin.
Abel shuddered in disgust. But conscious of nothing but
his own compulsions, James used his hands to pry open
Abel's mouth and fill it with his messy appendage. Abel
crinkled his nose in disgust at the taste of his own
insides.
James stuffed Abel's mouth with his prick, rinsing it
off with every thrust down the traumatized boy's
throat. James could tell by Elijah's quick, raspy
breaths that the boy was going to explode at any
minute, so he adapted the pace of his pumping to match
the speed and intensity of Elijah's fucking.
Abel's stiffness and screams subsided, and his defeated
body now lunged limply in whatever direction the dicks
impaling him demanded. For a moment, James wondered if
the boy had fainted from the assault. For several
minutes, the room echoed with nothing but the sound of
Elijah's large testicles slapping against Abel's
sweaty, slimy ass.
The sight of Abel's body, stretched in submission
before him, was too much for James, and he flooded
Abel's mouth with thick, tangy cum. Surprised and
disgusted, Abel reared back from the rush of hot fluid
filling his mouth, but James gripped Abel's head so
that his dick stayed lodged in his mouth, dumping every
last drop into the degraded boy's mouth and throat.
Abel stubbornly sealed off his throat, which caused him
to sputter and choke so badly that cum and slobber
spilled out the corners of his mouth.
Elijah saw James's climax and worried that the selfish
white man might conclude the show before letting Elijah
enjoy his own climax. Elijah bucked vigorously in and
out of Abel's ass, deep and hard and fast, until the
warmth and friction of Abel's insides became so intense
that he could feel his juices rushing toward release.
He pushed Abel flat against the bed, collapsed on top
of him, and nuzzled the houseboy's neck.
With one final, furious jerk of his body, Elijah spewed
what seemed like bucketfuls of his steamy 14-year-old
semen into the houseboy's prostrate body. His scrawny
frame literally shook with pleasure from the most
powerful orgasm of his young life. He followed this up
with several mini-thrusts to wring every last drop from
his dick, savoring the sweet euphoria of spilling his
seed deep inside another young man's body.
Abel burrowed his face into the bed in humiliation as
he felt Elijah's scalding juices splattering deep into
his bowels. Next to his face was a puddle of semen and
slobber that had leaked from his weary mouth.
Never before had Abel felt so dirty and degraded. His
throat was raw and swollen, and his asshole felt like
it was engulfed in flames. Even worse than the PHYSICAL
trauma, however, was the despair and humiliation of
being exploited and degraded like a common animal.
After all the years he'd taken pride in his dignified
service, proper speech, fancy clothes, and refined
manners, this is what he'd been reduced to: a naked,
helpless "nigger" with dicks crammed into his mouth and
ass.
But was this what he'd ALWAYS been? Had he simply
deluded himself to think he deserved the respect and
admiration of white folks? When Master Walt called him
"special," or white people praised his good looks, was
this what they pictured? If one took away the nice
clothes and special privileges, wasn't he just a dirty,
common nigger like Elijah? If Master Walt was still
alive, would he rush to Abel's rescue, or join his
nephew's sadistic fun? Abel felt more alone and
abandoned than he'd ever felt in his life, and a stray
tear escaped down his tan, freckled cheek.
Elijah lay atop Abel's body, panting with relief and
exhilaration. Before meeting Master James, he never
imagined such pleasure existed in the world. Surely
fucking a girl couldn't feel any better? He felt guilty
for showing Abel so little mercy, but rationalized it
by telling himself he was only PERFORMING for Master
James. He was playing a part, as a strategy to stay in
James's favor and ensure the continued search for his
father.
Still, he'd VOLUNTEERED to fuck Abel, which sort of
made him an accomplice, not a victim, to James's
abusiveness. Maybe Lil Rooster was right, Elijah
reflected uneasily. Maybe Master James was actually
turning him into a "pussy-boy" after all. But he only
enjoyed GIVING dick, not TAKING it, Elijah reassured
himself. At least he wasn't like that slave Nelson that
Lil Rooster was telling him about. At least he didn't
crave sucking dick, or getting fucked. At least not
yet.
James collapsed beside the panting, sweaty bodies of
his two slave-boys, and threw his arm across Elijah's
back. He felt dizzy and elated. The air was thick with
the smells of sweat, saliva, semen, and teenage Negro
flesh, combining to create a rich, musky, intoxicating
odor.
This was the closest thing to paradise on earth, James
thought to himself: this unrestricted access to a
limitless supply of beautiful Negro boys like Abel and
Elijah. It staggered the imagination to picture a
future of day after day, month after month, year after
year of mornings just like this, infinite possibilities
for erotic adventures with boys and men of all ages,
smells, sizes, skin complexions, and personalities.
Just as he'd corrupted Elijah and degraded Abel, James
could determine the fates of every single one of
Stampley Plantation's 248 slaves. He could orchestrate
erotic entanglements involving countless combinations
and taboos: older with younger, friend with friend,
friend with enemy, father with son, daughter with
mother, brother with brother. The possibilities were
endless.
Sure, the slaves on his plantation were complex,
breathing, feeling human beings. But they were also
players in a private theatrical production he could
manipulate and enjoy for the rest of his life. Because
they were his puppets, and he was their puppeteer.
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 46